Keepin' Goin'

Did you know that McDonald's puts nutrition information on the bottom of its burger boxes?  It's REALLY depressing to look at that after you've finished a fast-food meal.  That's a paddlin' (and a long hour of running flat out at the gym today)!

We took Bernie to the vet - they were worried and wanted to see him ASAP.  So, we girded up our checking accounts and headed in.  Man, Bernie was stinky, and he kept trying to put his butt on me (ew)!  But we have a gastrointestinal antibiotic, some soft food (which has giving Bernie a whole new world of culinary nirvana), some gel-based earwax emulsifier and the okay to give him rawhide bones once he's better.  The vet also told us about an otoscope procedure that's now available - they can dig out the deep-seated earwax plugs and check for middle-ear infections.  They do have to give the animal twilight anesthesia, which means big $$.  Boo.  Hopefully, though, it will give Bernie more relief from his near-chronic ear infections.

After rushing through that, we went to see 1408.  **SPOILERS**

I would only recommend this movie to folks who a) are hardcore Stephen King fans, b) have read the story or c) are cognizant of the term 'multiple realities'.

Even though I'd read the story, I was still cowering and burying my head in Andy's shoulder through most of the movie.  It was really sad, as well - there is a dream sequence with his daughter that was a lot like the dreams I'd had after my mom died.  Poor Andy, he goes out to the movies with me and about half the time we have to sit in the theatre until the lights come up because of my emo ass.

Those dreams I had - they were cruel; I would be at my parents' house and my mom would be there.  I would feel this intense rush of joy to see my mom alive again, to hear her voice and see her smile.  In some of the dreams, she would rot away when I touched her, or she would shake her head and tell me, "I can't go with you, I have to go now" and disappear.  Each dream left me devastated and I would be near-hysterical when I woke up.  I still don't know why those were the dreams I had.  Maybe I needed to miss her more in some way, or remind me that there was loss inside of the relief of my mom's death.  I don't know.

Also, there was another theme running through the story, dealing with atheist thought vs. the "comfort" of the afterlife.   What do you tell terminally ill people to make them feel better?  What belief about death gives you personal comfort?  I know I'm in the minority when I say that the idea of some place with pearly gates and, like, good stuff is the least appealing thing I can think of happening to me when I die.  The idea of my body returning to its natural state in the ground, the immortality of the soul resting in connections to other people, sounds much better to me.  I die; my story ends, but there are threads of me woven into the mesh of other people's stories. 

I dunno, I'm feeling introspective tonight.  And I've not had even a single drink to make me this maudlin.  I'm naturally emo like that.

I didn't get to Comfest, but I did get a nice, long nap in, and cleaned at the Temple, so I have all of tomorrow free, free, free!  So maybe North Market, maybe Noodles, definitely a bike ride.

And later, possibly a picspam post.