....holy crap on a crap cracker....

Okay. You need to be a Kevin Smith fan to get this, but then, most people who know me are Kevin Smith fans by temperament.

This is a thing of beauty. It truly is.

"...but I'm fighting Hitler! Ohhhkay."

Maybe I have an idea.

Like all writers (well, if I can still call myself a stinkin' writer), I always have projects. Projects I started, projects I couldn't finish, projects that mean something and projects that mean nothing.

These days, of course, I've been fighting depression. And a big part of that depression is the waiting. The waiting seems to be lasting forever.

So I'm listing to This American Life, which referred me to Transom.org, which is a clearing house for information on the creation of radio documentaries. Or more importantly, audio documentaries.

And I thought for a bit about my life, and how I got to where I am, and how I need something to make me feel like I'm taking control of my life, taking control of my situation, taking control in a way that makes me feel good about myself.

So I'm thinking... if I can borrow the right equipment from the school... why couldn't I produce a radio documentary about all this. About how I got here, and the process itself. Getting up to speed on the documentary would give me drive in the beginning, and as the problems crop up I'd have an outlet for them, and a record of them, and I could interview the people in my life about... well, about me, and my heart troubles and my weight troubles and the surgery, and how this impacts them....

It sounds Narcissistic, and I suppose it is, but it could also be good.

And it would be writing. Writing that perhaps I can do. And even if no one wants to listen to it afterward, I would want to hear it. And I think maybe the people who have given so much and supported so much would want to too.

And, to be dark for a moment, if the worst happens and I die on the table or have complications or otherwise can't explain how I got to that point... it would be nice to have something they can listen to, to understand my hopes. To understand my pains and fears. To understand me.

I think that could be very nice. Maybe this is a good idea.

And with all good, some crap

For the third year in a row, the school is changing Health Insurance Providers.

Which means that unless through magic I have this surgery before July, I'm going to have to get it approved by an HMO administration.

Again.

Which both times I had to do it before took months.

So.

Touched by an Angel in all the wrong ways

So, Touched by an Angel has a Series Finale...

...and Carol Burnett is 'hosting' it?

How does one host a television episode. Will she cut in, saying "will Monica get out of this one? Stay tuned, same Cherubic Time, same Cherubic Channel!'