Keep your hands to yourself

Location: Rat's nest
Condition: Tired but wired
Beverage: Decaf PG Tips
Recently read reading material: Fall Carleton Voice

About which this post is. Not the TSA groping, as the title may have led you to believe.

Don't get me wrong. Carleton was stellar. My only "academic" complaint would be that somebody who worked as little as I did shouldn't have gotten my GPA. My classes could have been a little more hard core, but I think that they had to be dumbed down just a smidge to accommodate for how bad some people's French and Spanish language skills were. Both my "science for dummies" classes kicked my ass, as did Chaucer. I hate the Canterbury Tales and I hate the kind of English they're written in and I think it sounds stupid when you pronounce it correctly. So there.

People at Carleton were cool: nice and smart and liberal. BUT. There was a vibe going around that made me cringe. A lot of people there were way too touchy-feely for my taste. Those of you that know me (everyone who reads this) know that I am not this way. Please do not offer me a backrub, greasy creepy druid. (And please, 4th Hue neighbor, please for all that is holy, do not approach me to participate in the back rub "chain".) Please do not meow at me as you give me a bone-crushing hug, VAXlab dude. (What oh what was I doing "working" at the VAXlab?) I have had to mentally block out other examples.

So anyway, what do I read in the shiny new Voice? Carleton students challenged the guinness record for: most populous group SPOONING! Over 500 students (I think this would have to be about 20% of the student body) gathered in the Bald Spot (self-explanatory name), lay down, and "spooned" with their arms around the person in front of them. This lasted for about 5 minutes. As I say OOOOOOOOOOOOOO-NO, I am also signing it in American Sign Language. How typical, yet how wrong. How glad I am that this did not happen 15 years ago when I could have been there to witness it. Ughety ugh, ugh ugh.

PS: Mac Shack Man

Medical update:
Visual: My gut, not very attractive at the best of times, is covered in big purple bruises. This is thanks to low whites (need for jabs) and low platelets (easy bruising). Some very short hair on my head. Lots of nasty extra skin hanging down due to too-rapid sickie-related weight loss. Crone-like puckering around the mouth. This is ugly.
Mental: Not bad, perhaps thanks to happy pills.
Ospedale: Back on Friday. If I need platelets, I will have to check in, will probably waste the weekend there, miss the arrival of the handyman.
Jelly legs: Check.
Next mustardy chemo: 2 weeks?

Lest you should get the impression from the above that I am limping lamely but surely towards death's doorstep, I include a photo from the KAS archives to prove I am happy (jutting-out chin indicates I am smiling) and absorbing maximum Kazzie power on an almost daily basis! Here we are seen in our viewing station (peanut gallery), from which we watch others do housework. We offer moral support and commentary.


So it sounds like the handyman is going to work one of his crazy detox, exercise, cleanse, whatever regimens when he gets here. He is also going to help me start getting a little exercise myself to facilitate the passage of no power jelly legs to amazing Kazzie-power strength. Speaking of exercise, G and the Spaz, the two of them have decided to become training buddies (G's suggestion, no objection from the joey). I don't know if G will be able to keep up because she is strong. Really strong. And she has been doing calisthenics every morning for the past 16 weeks whereas the handyman has been playing with pumpkins. (Just kidding no offense to the Greatest Glow on Earth!!!)

Let's keep embarrassing the handyman now that we know he reads the blog.
Ya know how I always say things come full circle. Well, my sibs have both been involved in the Christmas light business in the past, and there's a chance G will pick it up again next holiday season. And guess who's gonna be out in the cold on the perch wrapping branches while yours truly sits on her backside drinking hot spiced apfel sapf? (And holding the joey while K gets roped into helping.) Anyway, full circle. The following pic was lifted from the perch and scanned recently.
The handyman testing the lights our first Christmas in Wilmette. Full circle. Don't worry--we got rid of that carpeting as soon as the still-packed boxes were out of the living room.