First there was

Then there was this.

All I can say is, “Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” I think it’s funny that he’s so offended.

Not that I’m cruel or anything. Seriously.

Brangelina has given birth. The world can start spinning again.

I’m sure a good measure of Earth’s population will continue their vigil, breath abated, until the release of those multi million-dollar baby pictures in People magazine. But not me. There are other events that need an audience this weekend, so I will turn my attention to the utter failure of Eddie Murphy’s new movie, Meet Dave, the tragedy of the Modesto, Ca. skeet shooting accident, and the heinous crime of biting the nose off of the driver in front of you at Burger King (how hungry [and angry] must you be to do that)?!

What’s breaking news for you?

Strictly off-topic, thanks go to WE for airing The Color Purple last night. I had me a nice, good cry and was surprised that I remembered the words to most of Shug’s songs.

Looks like OSM needs to go to a care facility pretty much immediately. I’ve made an appointment with the doctor for her this morning; I need to see if she can help me get OSM placed.

OSM’s going to hate me for this.

Broos and I were commiserating about this for a bit yesterday. He went through the same emotional swings with Suz. The overriding emotion for me right now is guilt. I should be able to take care of her, my heart says I should be able to take care of her, but the reality of the situation is I can’t do it. She’s deteriorating and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t solve this.

This is my parent; my brain becomes addled when I try to focus on doing “the right thing.” The rationalization is that she took care of Tracy and me in spite of everything that went on so I should return the favor, the loyalty, the tenacity. The rational part is that neither of us was terminal while growing up, and had we been terminal we would’ve been in some care facility ourselves. I see that. I get that. But it doesn’t make this feel any more right.

I’ve had a wonderful and strenuous 14 months with her in my hovel, having a relationship with her that didn’t previously exist. To me, it sort of makes up for decades of alienation. Now I feel like shit because it’s about to come to an end so that she can get ’round-the-clock care, so that I can get to concentrating on raising my kid. I can’t help that it feels like I’m discarding something precious because it didn’t make my Top Ten list - some old sweater that still has life in it but is so last season.

Fucking sucks, I tell ya. It really fucking sucks.