Friday, June 03, 2005

Insane In The Membrane - Part II

Like an ass, I’m reading several books at the same time. Not at the EXACT same time, Mateo wouldn’t have married me if I had 8 pairs of eyes, but regardless, there's books all over my house. In the bedroom, in the living room, in the dining room…etc.

In addition to the books, Mateo and I have a ridiculous number of magazine subscriptions, which means silly-girl magazines, news-y publications, and science periodicals tossed all over our fire-trap of a living room.

Funny thing is, not so long ago, I couldn’t bring myself to even read the paper. Somewhere in my 2nd year of college (GO BRUINS!!!!), the ‘reading-is-vital’ section of my brain shouted “Fuck you, Pendeja!”, and bailed. There wasn't time to read what I wanted during school (again, fucking Farie Queen’s fault), and when I finally had time after I graduated, My Brain balked at his former duties.

“You’ve been reading everything in sight since you were 4 years old," whined My Brain. "I’m fucking tired now, so kiss my ass. I'm out.” Oh, shit. He was serious.

“What the fuck?” I spluttered, “You’re cutting me off? What am I supposed to do? There’s words everywhere. How am I going to read restaurant menus? What about the billboards on LA’s mean streets? How can I determine the nutritional information on the outside of the pickle jar if you won’t help me?”

“Tough titties. I’m checking out for awhile. Why don’t you go get drunk or something?”

And get drunk I did. While I'm pretty sure I wasn’t an true alcoholic (I never hid booze, lied about drinking or drank by myself...hey, maybe I’m a GROUP alcoholic), I was drunk alot until I got married. I still like being drunk, but about 3 years ago My Brain showed up on the doorstep again...

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” tears rolled down my Brain’s arachnoid membrane, “You’ve gotta take me back…”

“I ain’t got to do a DAMN thing, Brain! There’s nothing but grenadine and cocktail straws in the space you once occupied.” I was pissed so I pulled out the big guns, “And your friend Liver is DEAD. DEAD I TELL YOU!”

“It doesn’t matter,” cried my Brain. “Please baby, we’ve gotta work this out. There’s a scary president in charge of the US, there’s a war on, and you’re gonna be 30...”

“Asshole.”

“I just think it’s time you settle down and actually pay attention to the world around you.”

“Fine, but if you leave again, I’m donating your ass to science.”

And thus, My Brain and I were re-united and we've been reading the backs of pickle jars with relative ease ever since.
__________________________________
Random Pickle Fact: The Pickle

You know you love pickles. Don't try to front.

"Cucumber pickle factories usually ferment cucumbers in large outdoor vats of salt brine. Surprisingly, these vats have no cover, and are wide open to falling bird droppings, insects, and other airborne objects."

OK. Maybe I need to scale the pickle love back a little bit. Learn lots more about pickles, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 6/03/2005 06:56:00 PM

11 Comments

  1. Blogger Candace posted at 7:24 PM  
    Mmmmmmmm, pickles. My gramps used to make the BEST bread 'n' butter refrigerator pickels. Yumdillyicious.

    As for your brain, all I can think is when Homer says, "Brain, you and I have never gotten along...."

    Genius.
  2. Blogger mrtl posted at 8:02 PM  
    My brain works like bad satellite reception. Sometimes I'll go for months reading voraciously, then go for years without touching a book. He is, however, no where near as well spoken as yours, and he's quite content to have the breaks.
  3. Blogger Aurora posted at 9:37 AM  
    Ack! But i love pickles!!! That is so nasty.
    What's your favorite book series by the way?
  4. Anonymous Anonymous posted at 10:40 AM  
    Great Spury-izzy. I learned a lot about the fascinating world of pickles...

    I found this quote especially curious

    "the Scottish buried kegs of butter in peat bogs, slowly fermenting it for seven years before eating it;"

    What the fuck does this mean really????? Do you eat the fermented butter raw or spread it on bagels?

    El Guapo
  5. Blogger marybishop posted at 12:08 PM  
    Great post...

    Big fat green torpedo-sized Kosher pickles are my favorites...

    I am a passionate drinker, planning my cocktail of the evening right along with my dinner.

    At one point I was a wit, but I'm such a big wine lover I'm now a half-wit.
  6. Blogger Caroline posted at 6:15 PM  
    Pickles are icky.
  7. Blogger Torrie posted at 12:09 PM  
    Um, yeah, I like you.
  8. Blogger Susie posted at 4:10 PM  
    I, for one, hope your brain stays. I can't bear the thought of you donating your brain's ass to science.
    I read too many things at once, too.
  9. Blogger Spurious Plum posted at 10:49 PM  
    Misfit: I'm squarely on the dill side of the sweet vs. dill pickle debate...but homemade? Intriguing...

    MRTL: Who said my brain was well spoken? I was totally paraphrasing. He's kind of a dumbass. Like me!

    Airea- Sorry if I wrecked pickles...Right now my favorite bunch-o-books is The #1 Ladies Detective Agency series by Alexander McCall Smith.

    Guapo- Um, ew. Thanks for giving me something else to think about on sleepless nights.

    Marybishop- my pickle-eating, half-sauced sister!

    Caroline: Oh, you don't mean that. All pickles?

    Torrie: Said with such conviction! Like you back!

    Susie: I'd have to find my brain's ass first I suppose...
  10. Anonymous lawbrat posted at 7:03 AM  
    Your brain is showing up, knocking on the door...mine has been lost. Does your brain know where mine is? Please have your brain tell my brain its time to come home. I could really use it.
  11. Blogger Squirl posted at 12:28 PM  
    That's hilarious. I love this post. I, too, am a multiple-reader (does that sound right?). I always have books, magazines and newspapers going at one time. This means that I don't always finish them. I have books I started reading years ago and have never finished. Those are reference/nonfiction books, though. I usually devour novels. I also devour pickles and will have to put your open-vats story right out of my mind. At least I think my brain is still in there.

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