Pakistan Bananastand

My mind flooded with adjectives yesterday on hearing the news of the assassination (learning of it first on LJ, of course). Sad. Predictable. Angry.  Frustrated.

Then I got in the car and heard a reference to this part of the story, which is when "frightened" moved to the head of the parade:

US President George Bush telephoned President Pervez Musharraf on Thursday to discuss the situation in the wake of the assassination of former prime minister Benazir Bhutto, AFP quoted a spokesman as saying. Bush called Musharraf from the Texas ranch where he is vacationing for the rest of the year, spokesman Scott Stanzel said, giving no details on the conversation except to say it was “brief”.

Gee. What do you THINK two unscrupulous military commanders, with histories of stealing elections and suppressing civil liberties, might have to chat about?

Hey, Perv, it's yer ol' pal Dubya. Hey, sorry about that power-sharing thing not working out. Now just keep blaming al-Qaida for everthing and keep the turr-orist threat level up there at red, or purple, or whatever that top one is, and if you play yer cards right you can postpone them pesky elections agin and get yer President for Life ambitions right back on track. Yep, us manly men with fingers on the nuculur buttons gotta stick together.

Nah. They probably just talked about the Patriots-Giants game being on free broadcast television this weekend.

Unsafe at Any Speed

Can you get Alzheimers in your cerebellum, I wonder? If it's possible, I think I'm ready to turn myself in as a test subject.

It's now been two full weeks since the Winter Storm Pratfall, just outside the gym, where I finished my workout with a rather unorthodox stretching exercise in the parking lot and slammed my ass, back and head (in that order) into the icy pavement. Today was the first time since then that I felt better enough all around to go in for a full run of cardio and weights.

After going to work first, of course. This time, on a clear, sunny day, on perfectly dry pavement, I managed to trip on a crack on the wheelchair curbcut in my own fucking office parking lot, this time slamming myself down from the front. The head stayed up and away from impact this time, and nothing was broken, but I managed to annoy virtually every joint on my entire right side. My wrist, knee and ankle all still hurt, hours later, but the worst was where I cut my right thumb, right up against the nail.The bleeding stopped quickly, but it still hurts like hell, and there's nothing like moderate loss of function in an opposable thumb to remind you just how close you are to being an oversized monkey.  Even putting paper into a three-hole punch becomes far too much of an adventure.

Yet I am nothing if not determined, and after waiting for the day's mail to not come (grrrrr) and getting my last day of outgoing mail in the slot (including the first of the American Cinema packages- watch your snail and email, Terri), I headed over to the gym.

As I opened my car door, I saw, on the ground, exactly where I was about to plant my left foot,....



I know an omen when I see one. I shut the door and came straight home. Safely, I might add.

I'll go back tomorrow. Probably wearing combat boots and night-vision goggles.