Scrubs Quote ofthe Day

Of course I'm holding back! I'm insane, you idiot! Remember the other day, when you told me that I had pit stains? Well, I have cried every fifteen minutes on the half-hour since you told me that. I am wracked with self-doubt. I have panic attacks. I'm claustrophobic, germaphobic, phobiaphobic. I talk to myself. I talk to my cat. I talk to three separate shrinks about the fact that often my cats respond to me in my mother's voice.

And yesterday, when that stupid pretty surgical nurse handed you a pair of latex gloves, I almost killed the guy whose leg I was stitching up because I couldn't stop thinking about the two of you having sex on a box of steaks! Why a box of steaks? 'Cause my dad had an affair with a female butcher! And, as I mentioned before, I am insane. There! I opened up! Are you happy?

- Elliot

I'm Guessing

Everyone at one point in their lives looks around and asks, "What does everybody else know that I don't?"

I'm in limbo - and not the fun, get grandma drunk, put a party hat on her head, see how far she can lean back before her artificial hip breaks kind - but the depressing confusing kind.

Quote ofthe Day

"As she rubs Louis's back, Clarissa thinks, Take me with you. I want a doomed love. I want streets at night, wind and rain, no one wondering where I am."

from

The Hours

by Michael Cunningham

10 Things I Think About

10 Things I Think About While Waiting to Board an Airplane

1. Who sitting around me has a fear of flying

2. How many people just said goodbye to someone they love

3. How many people are on some form of medication

4. How many people in the terminal are unhappy

5. Why some people prefer window v. aisle

6. Who is flying to see someone they love

7. Will we hit turbulence & will it be the fun kind or the scary kind

8. Who is the person that I'll end up sitting next to & will I get to find out

9. How many people just said goodbye to someone they are glad to leave

10. What do other people think about when they wait to board a plane

Poem ofthe Day

The Lucky Criminals
By Kevin Prufer

We are not equal to our criminals. A raftful floats by every day,
dainty blue canopies flaring in the breeze. Cigarettes dangling

from downturned mouths, eyes screwed to the shore -
the criminals are slim and beautiful, draped

in their lawnchairs so their fingers leave trails in the river water.
They are sentimental and lean, shirtless and droop-eyed.

Oh to dig my tired toes into the soft mud of the bank,
the pickpocket says. To drop coins in the river and retrieve them,

to retrieve all the coins that have ever been dropped in the river.
The others are silent, smoke leaking from their mouths. Wishes

are everything to criminals, and the burl of black clouds over the trees
is unimportant. My father was buried with a mouthful

of stolen gems, the con-man replies, swiping his guitar. I dug
one hundred holes in the yard before I found them. The black clouds

curl into mouths that rustle the trees. Around their feet,
fifteen bags of coins. The hacker picks his golden teeth, the falsely accused

stares hungrily to our shore. Our women are in love with criminals.
They have the soft glow of lamplight on pavement on clear nights after rain.

How we envy criminal ambition. We are strung like pearls
on the weedy shore, white-faced and furious as they pass.

Our dinner burns, our children cry, and the wind cools
as the storm sweep over. Justice, justice, we call to them.

But the long-fingered criminals in their gorgeous swimsuits,
the lawless with their guns draped over their chairs, the shifty-eyed

and doomed with bare chests, the exciting - they'll never notice us.

The End of the World

Since January I've had the recurring nightmare of an Apocalypse. They vary in degree of scariness, locations, people I interact with...but I wake up with the same physiological reaction each time.
The first one I had in January was the most horrifying. Very reminiscent of Cormac McCarthy's The Road. I was with my family. The sky was a blanket of ash. Headlights shone through the dust and soon huge trucks came rumbling towards us. The people running nearby were being shot down.

Since this nightmare I've seen the Golden Gate bridge engulfed in rising water as a steamboat crashed through it's lines. I've seen skyscrapers collapse all around me as the sun turns deep red with smoke. I've seen mankind turn into cannibalistic robots who repair the destroyed cities every night only so they can ruin them again the next day. I've run from splitting asphalt, ducked behind buildings, jumped off bridges, cried in countless friends arms, and watched several people I love be captured or killed.
And in each dream there is always someone holding my hand throughout it all. This person varies as well. It's usually a male, sometimes a familiar face, sometimes a stranger.

I wake up and I'm always shivering always terrified. The first few times I had this dream I woke up and said "fuck The Road," but now I wonder..
I always wake up with a racing heart and feel like "they" are outside my room waiting to hear me breathe.
I always want to call people from my past to make sure they are still alive and I always wake up and realize there is nobody holding my hand.

Pre-Death List

I was cleaning out a drawer in my childhood room and came across my List of Things To Do Before I Die

The very first thing on the list is "Flying Lessons." Really? That's the first thing I thought of? I'm sort of scared of flying. Although maybe that's why I wanted the lessons..

I wrote the list in High School. It was exciting to see I'm able to cross a few things off:
- Ballet lessons
- Sky dive
- Get a manicure & pedicure (wtf? lame.)
- Be an extra in a film
- Walk across Golden Gate & Brooklyn Bridge

A few others I realized I may have to re-evaluate:
- Be on "Price is Right"and get kiss from Bob Barker
- Meet Tom Cruise (oh Tom, how you've fallen so)
- Work at Disneyland as Belle (pssh yeah right)

It may be about time I write a new list.