I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.
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Thursday, January 22
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BITTERSWEET OPUS
I hate that the only time my family is together is when someone is in the hospital.
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The Sister was kicking some gnarly abdomen pains that had her end up in an emergency room very early this morning. Hours later, a surgery. Hours later, she's on her way home. It's a Christmas miracle.
I've been awake for more than 35 hours.
The no-sleep dementia kicked in around three hours ago, when a very old lady in a neighboring hospital room started yapping about how much she hates Barack Obama. I couldn't help but eavesdrop.
"Damn democrat -- going to raise our taxes. A lot."
She is in a hospital room. Complaining about taxes.
The only tax she should even remotely be thinking of is the estate tax. Too early?
Post-surgery-The Sister was upset at me this afternoon because she was sore, and I, in hindsight, an asshole, didn't skip a beat to make her laugh. I just want to die knowing that I made someone laugh so hard that it made them hurt.
Hugo Hospital Highlight:
HUGO: Don't fall asleep.
THE SISTER: Why?
HUGO: They put some morphine in your ivy thingie. If you go to sleep, there's a good chance you won't wake up.
THE SISTER: OH MY GOD ARE YOU SERIOUS????????? And scene;
Hospitals are fucking gay, man.
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