IT WAS JUST GAS....STORY OF MY LIFE

This morning I woke up and thought I felt something in my stomach. I'm like a giant who's swallowed a little person. But it was just gas...sadness gas because Jeff has gone off into Alaska and I've heard nothing from him. (uh-oh this sounds a bit like ANOTHER relationship I've had...)
What if Jeff made up the whole "oh I'm going to Alaska...no cell phone reception...I'll call when I can" and then I never heard from him again. I think I could get another book deal from that-so not the worst thing in the world.

When he said it was remote I thought he was just trying to sound macho...like when he described the housing as 'barracks". He's more a man than I. Usually I'm the man and he's the one crying in the kitchen...now I'm crying in the kitchen and he's in the middle of SALMON SEASON in ALASKA.

I ate FiberOne Poptarts for dinner because I can't feed myself without Jeff. And then Michael Jackson died..it was a very surreal day.

But I woke up to such joy--paying bills....and in the middle of eating another poptart and crying about bills AND Jeff AND the death of the 80's...I get a phone call from Calgary asking me about coming to perform there in January. The head of this festival asked me 'so what are you up to January" and I told him "post pardem depression and pumping". Then I put the baby on time out for costing me a job. Time out for him means I don't pee even though I have to and that leaves him no room to move around in there...so he's squished up against my liver or something.
I'M KIDDING. Don't call child protective services.

Does anyone remember the one time I tried to own a dog? The one that peed on Leslie and used to eat the cat shit out of the kitty litter ("Doggy Rocca") and ate an entire bag of makeup and a chair? The one I could not control at all?

The lady who adopted him sent me a photo of him at 10 years old. I think I'd like him back now.

There's Carlos.....looking a little gay with his paws crossed.