One year from today we’ll wake up knowing who our next president is.

I drove Harper to school this morning and as I listened to Quichotte on the way home, an Italian cricket started talking to the imaginary black-and-white boy who is now able to stay awake when the man who imagines him is asleep—and it was just so wonderful. When I pulled into the garage and searched for the blue peanut M&M that Harper had dropped (she’s 14 and can choose her own breakfast food), I decided I would visit Fluid Pudding today. (I didn’t yet find the M&M, and the key word in this sentence is YET.)

It has been a while, hasn’t it? Here’s a gigantic photo of my nose taken to show you that I added another hole to it.
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I told myself I’m entirely too old for a double-pierced nose, but then I told myself that California is on fire. And then I thought about the Kurdish student who talked to our political science class back in 1991 and I bet his family has better things to worry about than noses. Just remember: Nobody cares about your nose.

I tried to do Inktober during October, but then I accepted the fact that I can be lazy with commitments.

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After graduating from college, I worked as a unit secretary in a surgical intensive care ward. When patients returned to the ICU from heart surgery, I was the one who ordered chest x-rays and EKGs and post-op meds. I knew that Dr. C’s patients required much less aftercare than Dr. S’s patients. I was working when the on-call anesthesiologist showed up drunk in the middle of the night as a patient was being prepped for emergency surgery. (Fun side notes: An orderly who also volunteered for the eye bank once asked me on a date to join him as he harvested eyeballs. I declined. I sometimes wore a stethoscope.)

Anyway, tomorrow my dad is going to be a patient and I’m going to be bringing annoying nervous energy to the waiting room for at least four hours. (I wouldn’t choose my nervous self as a friend. I don’t like her very much.) Dad’s surgeon is very good and the hospital is very good and isn’t it so strange how things can feel far away and close up at the same time?

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Last weekend I spent some time heating up needles and poking them through the hands of tiny plastic babies. We have 180 tiny plastic babies in the house and each and every one of them is delightful, as tiny plastic babies often are.

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7 thoughts on “One year from today we’ll wake up knowing who our next president is.”

  1. I’ll be praying for you and your dad. Some people knit when they’re nervous – and sometimes that works for me – but sometimes I can’t even do that……so I’ll pray for a center of peace in the midst of the nervous.

  2. Prayers for you and your dad. We have been spending a lot of time lately in cardiac waiting areas. I highly recommend anxiously baking cookies to eat and/or hand out to nurses in hopes of preferential treatment. Re babies: are you making 182 neonatal nose rings?

  3. Hi, I hope your Dad is now out of hospital and on the mend. I also hope it wasn’t a ” too” serious issue why he was in hospital and it was something easily dealt with and nothing reoccurring.

    Until this past month I had no idea you were such a great artist. The bossy art teacher in me wants you to keep your sketchbook practice up m’kay.

    I am not fazed by the announcement you have been poking holes in tiny baby dolls, too late for Halloween, but my interest is piqued for the final outcome. Inquiring minds want to know.

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