Elise Sereni Patkotak

In reviewing my finances preparatory to giving the government my last pound of flesh – though there is apparently plenty of fat still left – two thoughts occur to me.  One, money management is, in my world, a contradiction in terms.  Two, for what this website cost me, I should be getting constant orgasms on demand from it every time I log on. It’s not like there’s anything or anyone else around who is apt to.

I watch the Olympics from my easy chair, light turned low, newspaper and tea by my side, so relaxed and comfortable that I all but have drool dripping down the side of my chin. On screen, young, buff athletes – buffer than me in ways I can’t begin to even imagine…buffer than I was at my best by an exponential of about a million – and I think, “All in all, I’m pretty happy in my chair.”

I’m getting my taxes ready for my accountant today.  I will not be a pleasant person.  I will, in fact, be an angry bitch.  Until tonight when I can relax and watch Mal do his thing in Serenity.

Does God have nothing better to do than sit in heaven and wait for me to get happy with winter so She can then cause it to warm up just enough in Anchorage for there to be icy rain, sleet, wind and the kind of generally gross weather that makes me want to run screaming back to the North Slope?  Maybe things will look better after my coffee.  I’ll go strap some ice skates on my car tires and head to Cafe Loco.

I go see one of my many doctors today. So I’m not drinking caffeine, not eating anything with cholesterol and willing my blood sugar to remain normal.  Of couse, come tomorrow, damn the blood pressure and give me caffeine.  I guess I’m still just a little Catholic school girl who wants to sin in private but be good in public so Sister Mary gives me a glowing report.

I’m in the middle of a big project that seems to have no end.  And I just want to say, “AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”.  I apologize if I misspelled that word. I’m never sure how many Gs to put in.

We have an eagle at the Wild Bird Rehab Center where I volunteer on Tuesday mornings whose top beak was shot off. She’s a wonderful bird. We call her Beautiful…ok, I actually call her the Beakless Wonder but that’s just me.  Being Italian, I’m the cook on Tuesday for the birds.  I get to cut up old salmon and moose, defrost dead mice, quail and hamsters and – my favorite part – plump them up again with lactated ringer’s solution.  I also get to hand feed Beauty because without an upper beak, she can’t feed herself. 

There is no feeling

It warmed up in Anchorage today. Everything is icy and slushy. It’s raining, sleeting, hailing and windy.  So of course Mr. T and I had to go take our walk.  Which wouldn’t have been bad had not the moose blocked our way home when we were just an eighth of a mile from the end of our walk. Had to turn around and going all the way back in the direction we came. Ended up walking six miles in this weather. Mr. T is not a happy camper.  Neither am I.  And people wonder why I long for Barrow winters.

How can I not be homesick when I hear that’s it was 59 below in Barrow last week.  I miss it so much.  You can’t know the meaning of the word bracing till you go out to your car in 59 below weather, sit on a frozen seat and try to convince the motor it wants to be alive.  To say nothing of the joy of driving on square tires.  Oh my.  I could just weep from missing those good times.