Dena Taylor’s Musings

-I woke up feeling uncertain, almost fearful, sort of unworthy, tired and fat

-My stomach is protruding at least 3 inches and I seem to have a case of the belches

-I looked at my cat and got teary about how cute and furry she is and how much I love her even though she’s really kind of a bitch to everyone and completely dysfunctional because she didn’t complete the weaning process before being swiped by her evil captor, a.k.a. me, out of my desire for companionship but mostly out of guilt

-the young college boy with bedhead, baggy sweatshirt and shorts and flipflops (yes, in November in Austin) looks completely sexy hot hot potatti

-as does the bookish, older writer dude

-eating a large bowl of spicy hot thai food with a Toblerone and soda chaser, followed by a cup of hot chocolate and maybe some string cheese and just a handful of salt & vinegar chips seems like a delightful way to spend the evening

-I want to tell everyone I love them, am thankful for their unique presence and yet I raise my fist at that fucking jackhole in the Tahoe who cut me off in traffic to make it through the yellow light, leaving me at the red, which frustrated me and made me almost start crying at the injustice of it all

-And, I just don’t smell right

Jesus Cramp: a young carpenter’s battle with Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

An Inconvenient Tooth: Tooth fairies get sick when unsafe handling practices expose them to life-threatening infections.

Mutterball: When a caregiver overhears a senior citizen’s plot to overthrow the crappy cafeteria, this assisted living facility is turned upside down.

Slicko: After years of sexual harassment and discrimination, female workers at the Dippity-do manufacturing plant fight back.

A very hairy, 50-something year-old man looking like a jogger from 1977 in what appeared to be his high school running shorts (Bonus points for “eww” factor)

The barista disguised in resentment and chronic fatigue syndrome

The woman going 57 in the far left lane of the expressway acting as if she was someone who could drive

The Exorcist, dressed up as my cat, projectile vomiting on my dining room rug

The ginormous F150 masquerading as a compact car crammed into a compact parking space

The coffee shop patron who after  20 minutes in the bathroom acted as if he was someone with regular bowel movements

Me, who after one measly pint, slurred my words like someone coming off of anesthesia

MOM: Guess what I’m making?

ME: I dunno. What?

MOM: Oooo, it’s gonna be so good! I took some squash and stuffed it with spinach and nuts and some of that uh, golian cheese?

ME: I’m sorry, what kind of cheese?

MOM: (in her smallest voice) Guh…ware…guhwarry?

ME: Yeah, no. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

MOM: Gooo…yay? Gooyay cheese?

ME: GRUYERE? GRUYERE CHEESE?

MOM: Yes! Gooyay! And you bake it in the oven and it’s really yummy.

ME: Yeah. Sounds like it.