The last fourteen years have been the most amazing of my life, but Lovely Wife Sara and I have come to different places in our lives with different goals in mind.
She and I are separating.
This is entirely amicable; we both love each other very fucking much and will be best friends forever. We’re happy, and we’re both going to have amazing lives.
We’re both exploring new relationships right now; mine is with Nadja Robot, aka fairyarmadillo .
Of course there are still some sad moments, but basically, be happy for the fantastic years she and I had together, and be happy because we are.
benjamin and Sara
Some highlights of the comments:
"so does everyone in IL rock the michelle obama arms?" - interdisciple (LWS kicks it with her lean-muscle arms)
"Don't kid yourself. She could bolt any day...but she HASN'T...and that says something." - ar901 (probably says something bad about her mental state for sticking with me)
"She looks like a Grecian Goddess. :D " - mamagaea (POLISH goddess, thank you...)
"We still talk about your wedding as one of the best/most memorable that we've ever attended." - rinifer (We loved yours, too!)
"Five years is the wood anniversary. GET TO IT!" - carrot_khan (Pretend I said something filthy that she'd kick my ass if she read)
"LWS makes me confused about my sexuality." - pilliwiggan (You're not the first one to say that)
and of course, from that classiest of individuals, thewalkingman :
"I'd hit it."
Me too, man. Me goddamned too.
Why a weirdass weekend has to cap itself off with extra-weird shit only hours before it ends is beyond me.
Why did it involve me having to speed away from a fast-food drive-thru--throwing my card through the window and shouting that I'll be back--so I can confirm the license number of and follow, on behalf of the 911 dispatcher I'm talking to, the car that was in front of me in line? The one where I just saw the female passenger shout "What did I do wrong?!" and the male answer "Everything!" before grabbing her left arm and twisting it behind the front seat. That was when she screamed and the little girl in the back seat screamed.
They realized I was following them and were driving around strangely trying to lose me. Indeed, a cop would later tell me that we had been driving in the opposite direction of their house.
Gotta watch the police blotter for a few days.
Anyway, I wrote you a story:
Neil lowered his gun and pointed it at little Johnny’s forehead. Behind him on the ground, chest blown open, was the body of Johnny’s dad.
“You go on ahead now, boy. You nurse that hate into something monstrous. Then you come find me.”
It would be eleven years before they met again for the last time.
When John saw who had ordered the coffee at table seven, he ran back into the kitchen and was sick in the mop sink. After letting out a few short sobs, he wiped his mouth and stood up. He picked up his tray again and spat in the mug.
By the time he got back out to the dining room, Neil had already paid and left.
Anyway, I wrote you another story:
These things fly like a dream, Brian thought to himself.
My hands fit perfectly around each one, and all I gotta do is keep ‘em over my head, and fwoosh, off I go.
The guy I got ‘em from said they had some sort of experimental new battery in ‘em, could fly for a hundred years without refueling. There’s not even any exhaust or anything, the guy said that they repulsed matter on a molecular level to produce the necessary thrust for liftoff and actual flight. Or some shit like that.
He said they worked because of some sorta nanotech he’d wired to the muscles in his calves and feet. After I killed him and broke his legs off at the knees, it only took a little experimental squeezing around the ankles to make just the right connection.
It took a bit, but I got ‘em figured out, and boy, do these things fly like a dream.
Anyway, I made a Valentine's Day Sheet Of Paper for Sara:
Also, I write myself a lot of weird notes, sometimes on the back of Red Lobster receipts
A) I love it when designers--graphic, garments, web--get together and do awesome shit.
Click on the Travel the World of Hermes link and prepare to blow at least fifteen minutes of your day mousing around. Probably more, actually.
B) taran_the_giant has done it again, cementing my ability to say that my wife is a fetish model. :D
C) The Big Shill continues! I highly recommend that you go revisit the entry.
Start at the last page and work your way backwards so you won't burn out before you get to the end, as there's some really incredible stuff that's come in during the last few days that you won't have seen.
If you don't mind, let me know if you've made sales--via e-mail, if you prefer; email@example.com. I know of at least a half-dozen transactions, but I'd love to have a list.
AND DON'T FORGET TO TELL YOUR FRIENDS!
D) I love my new icon. MANESCHEVITZ-FUELED WIFE FTW!
My wife is a goddamned samurai, motherfuckers.
Here she is centering herself and preparing her stance as she tracks a pinata by scent alone.
Myofascial Pain Syndrome is neither degenerative nor fatal.
I cannot express to you how happy Sara and I are right now.
Here's a very basic rundown:
The doctors at the Mayo Clinic theorize that all of this started with some sort of viral infection that was attacking her body, resulting in an elevated temperature, muscle pain, elevated ANA levels, et cetera.
Once it had run its course, it had done some damage to the fascia of her muscles and set her brain permanently to the "pain" setting. This means that even though most of the damage may actually be over with, her brain is still registering her muscles and joints as being in a state of horrible pain and weakness.
It has some crossover with fibromyalgia, and sometimes people who have that also have myofascial pain syndrome.
Sara just started two medications to keep things under control and has been given an exercise, stretching, and joint movement regiment in order to keep her muscles in shape and to help with healing.
There is a good chance that she'll at least get her current state under control, and some people on medication and exercises can head for nearly complete recovery.
Thanks to everybody who offered words of encouragement, prayers, positive thoughts, et cetera.
They meant so very, very much to us, and kept us smiling and hopeful.
Six months of this has been extremely difficult, but I'll keep you updated on her recovery, and I'll be keeping her updated on all of your responses to this entry.
We love all of you, my monkeys, and I love my wife.
For Halloween, I was a Chinese vampire; a hopping corpse.
Yes, I know that they only wear black robes. Shut up, I love this robe...and don't own a black one.
I highly recommend that you watch the Hong Kong film Mr. Vampire (literally Mr. Stiff Corpse) right over here, online, for free. It's completely nuts. Taoist magic is crazy, even though they made some of it up for the movie. Trust me, I've read books about the stuff...
Oh, here's me trying to suck the life-force out of Sarah Palin. Thankfully, Chinese zombies don't need to eat brains.
Sara went to Chicago yesterday for a rheumatology appointment that she has today.
She and her mother go up to Minnesota tomorrow for four more days of Mayo Clinic.
I'll have some shots from the first trip up some other time, but here's one to tide you over.
On a shitty-but-not-really-that-surprising note, people who bomb abortion clinics aren't terrorists says Sara Palin.
She still decries Ayers and the Weather Underground, though.
Which group has killed more people?
In conclusion, you have granted yourself another six hours of life for this, humanity:
It is clear that she does not understand romance.
Driving to Chicago tomorrow afternoon, then back to C-U on Saturday.
Results from Mayo Clinic?
They've done everything from electrocuting Sara's muscles to making her sweat until she is stained purple (not joking) but they aren't going to be able to analyze the results.
Not until they do more tests.
For which she needs to come back in about a week.
For another week.
And I won't be able to go.
Fuck all this fucking shit.
EDIT -- I read her this entry and she said, "You forgot to mention how they drew 36 vials of blood in one sitting."
She needs that stuff.
They drew something like 30 vials of blood about half an hour ago and before that they scraped her skin for allergies and to make sure that all of her immunizations, et al, are still functioning.
She had to do some heavy exercise stuff yesterday and with lots of walking around this massive complex her legs are killing her today, particularly one knee.
We decided to see a scary movie last night--we had to discount W. because Sara's stepfather wants to see it with Edwina, Sara's mom, who is here with us--so we ventured to the very-fucking-edge of town to a nearly empty theatre to watch Quarantine.
I don't mind horror movies with stupid plots. I really enjoy horror movies with great plots, but sometimes a crappy one can be fine.
This one, though? I wanted to poke every character in the eye at one point or another. They all behaved as though they were retarded 8 year-olds, the movie was riddled with vaguely-racist cliches, and...just...
Yeah, it had some absolutely terrifically scary bits but ultimately, no. It collapsed under the weight of acting that alternated between really good and terrible, camerawork that made me feel sick--and I was totally fine with Cloverfield--and the vast stupidity of the characters.
I can only be so scared if I can't believe that the people in the movie could possibly be functioning members of society.
Anyway, I'm off to read more of Devil in the White City and maybe do some shitty drawings.
Been in Chicago for the last 36 hours, will be driving up to Rochester, Minnesota, to the Mayo Clinic in a few hours.
Our hotel has internet, and I bet the clinic does, too, but who knows how often I'll be able to e-mail, et al.
If you've got something important, e-mail or text or call and I'm sure I'll possibly maybe get back to you.
Will produce art during spare time when not reading.
Cross fingers, et cetera.
Truth be told, she's still slowly getting worse. Pains that she only had in her right arm now occasionally travel to her left.
Going to a few stores wears out her legs and any time that she has to stand for very long she ends up having to find somewhere to sit.
She's been tested for everything from Lyme disease (three time) to Myasthenia Gravis to Sjogren's Syndrome and nothing has come back with any clues.
We've been figuring out ways to make things easier for her--i.e. baths instead of showers and once she gets on the couch for the night I am officially her bitch--and we've also been getting back into doing things that we've missed doing, like involved cooking and occasional trips out just to show that she can still do it.
It sucks, but she's not giving in to this garbage.
The big news that we've been holding back on is that she has an appointment with Internal Medicine at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, the week of October 22nd. Internal Medicine is the department where a bunch of people test you for a bunch of things before narrowing it down. It could take two days, it could take four, we don't know. We'll be up there as long as they need us to be.
So that's where we are right now.
My lovely wife Sara is fighting this shit, and she's going to win.
Love from us,
Ad on TV: "What if I'm carrying your child!"
ME: "THEN PUT IT DOWN!"
ME: "I'm like Indiana Jones and Sherlock Holmes fucked and made a fat guy with short hair."
SARA (very sleepy): "Noooo...you're not faaaaaat!"
SARA: "I'm not royalty, I'm just awesome."
B) HOLY SHITTENSTEIN, EVEN MORE INTERNET MONKEY KING ARTS!!! I love you guys so much. With my penis.
First, by eyemage , an accurate representation of me at work...albeit almost entirely sans anything that smokes these days. Perhaps make it whiskey or a white russian:
Second, his_spiffyness provides MonkeyKingity AND political commentary.
Up yours, John.
Today is Sara's birthday.
She is the most bestest person I know.
See Also: most talented, sexiest, funniest, smartest, coolest, most-likely-to-be-okay-with-me-calling-
I love her so hard that I sometimes think I might get some sort of embolism.
If you wanna leave her birthday greetings, do so here. :)
In the mean time, please enjoy some fruits and vegetables from Joe Jackson's Michigan Fruit Stand.
Also there is a picture of my wife, but you are not allowed to enjoy her.
PS -- Don't tell Sara that I put this photo up until it's too late to remove it. She vetoes 97% of the photos I take of her. :(
AKA Your Internet Monkey King