if you could have genetic--
"Blackstar" arrived this morning. My cat woke me early and I was in a bad mood and just plain melancholy, but Mom showed me the package and told me it was something to be happy about. I ripped open the paper and *looked* at the album, then held it to my forehead and cried for a half hour. Gods, I want to listen to his letter so much... but I don't want to hear him say goodbye. The liner art and lyrics are done beautifully. The words are all black on black, so you have to squint and turn it just right to be able to see anything. The pictures are like a story. It's the tale of a man who knows he's sick but doesn't want to admit it; he keeps his eyes covered. He gets progressively worse, eventually taking off the blindfold. The last image is of him in profile against a blue sky with clouds. His death was art.
I got to therapy a full hour early (Carmie waking me up early screwed with my time all day). Walking into the waiting room, I found it empty. There was a lone magazine out of the rack: the current issue of TIME, with David on the cover and a four-page memorial. Cue tears. I finally realized, oh shit, I'm early.
Both my therapist and Angela said that they immediately thought of me when they heard the news. Angela did precisely what I thought she'd do. I asked for a med change; she said no. Apparently there is an anti-nightmare pill (this is an actual real thing) for people with PTSD, but she was all, "Your blood pressure is too low for it." WTF? I've never had low blood pressure. Well, she recced me for this genetic testing thing.
We actually wanted the genetic testing done many years ago, but my doctor at the time wouldn't agree to it. I don't metabolize crazy amounts of drugs well and get all the side effects from everything. This test, which is a $300 cheek swab, will tell what family of drugs I'll metabolize well, which types will make me goofy from side effects, etc. I'm something of a genetic anomaly =/
The radio is no longer playing blocks of Bowie. I got *very* angry and made an entirely inappropriate remark. "Guess he's cold enough," I spat at the radio. They're playing the Eagles every hour, which is great (I love the Eagles and I'm all for remembering groundbreakers), but to drop David after a week... I was afraid they'd do that. "Oh, he inspired literally everyone and was consistently amazing for 51 years? Guess 7 days of talking about him sporadically is enough."
There's a petition going around to get a new constellation named for him. Unfortunately, the stars chosen were already part of other constellations and the IAU shut down the idea *fast*.
The IAU is, however, considering giving the moon an actual name. I'll be pissed if it isn't something Roman. Everything else in the Solar System is.
It's cold and I'm tired.
I got to therapy a full hour early (Carmie waking me up early screwed with my time all day). Walking into the waiting room, I found it empty. There was a lone magazine out of the rack: the current issue of TIME, with David on the cover and a four-page memorial. Cue tears. I finally realized, oh shit, I'm early.
Both my therapist and Angela said that they immediately thought of me when they heard the news. Angela did precisely what I thought she'd do. I asked for a med change; she said no. Apparently there is an anti-nightmare pill (this is an actual real thing) for people with PTSD, but she was all, "Your blood pressure is too low for it." WTF? I've never had low blood pressure. Well, she recced me for this genetic testing thing.
We actually wanted the genetic testing done many years ago, but my doctor at the time wouldn't agree to it. I don't metabolize crazy amounts of drugs well and get all the side effects from everything. This test, which is a $300 cheek swab, will tell what family of drugs I'll metabolize well, which types will make me goofy from side effects, etc. I'm something of a genetic anomaly =/
The radio is no longer playing blocks of Bowie. I got *very* angry and made an entirely inappropriate remark. "Guess he's cold enough," I spat at the radio. They're playing the Eagles every hour, which is great (I love the Eagles and I'm all for remembering groundbreakers), but to drop David after a week... I was afraid they'd do that. "Oh, he inspired literally everyone and was consistently amazing for 51 years? Guess 7 days of talking about him sporadically is enough."
There's a petition going around to get a new constellation named for him. Unfortunately, the stars chosen were already part of other constellations and the IAU shut down the idea *fast*.
The IAU is, however, considering giving the moon an actual name. I'll be pissed if it isn't something Roman. Everything else in the Solar System is.
It's cold and I'm tired.