The Last of the Red Hot Sexters

I don’t know why I never thought of it before.  Someone should have.  Am I the last living practical joker in the country?

My friend and I were discussing ways to hide identities in our contact lists on our cell phones so no one would ever actually know the names associated with the numbers.  There is the possibility of losing our cell phones and we could  simply try to keep it private when someone calls.  We thought of assigning names like Bud or BFF for our contacts so that if anyone accidentally picked up our phone, our lists could not possibly be decoded.   If the cell phone is accessed, there is much information to be gathered like where home is, who “mom” is, our email connections, Facebook acquaintances and log ons etc.   Then we got to wondering out loud like we always do.  What if we changed our names to someone very cool?  What if I changed my husband’s name to Brad Pitt?   It would be great to get calls from Brad Pitt regularly and call him whenever I liked.  What if I changed “home” to Madison Square Gardens or the White House?  What if she changed her work number to Ford Modeling Agency?  What if we changed our names on each other’s phones to something clever like Lucy Ricardo and Ethel Mertz?  Then we decided to use only living character because the alternative was a dead giveaway (pun intended).  

Now, in my list of contacts, instead of Bart, I have Steven Spielberg.  In the place of home, I have CBS Studios – Craig Ferguson.  Instead of Linda, I have Margaret Thatcher.  Instead of a son, I have Agent 007. Instead of a boyfriend, she has George Clooney.  Her sister in law is the Duchess of Cambridge.  Betty White is now my aunt.   One of my closest friends with an ordinary name is now Lindsay Lohan.  She should thank me.  I shaved 30 years off her age.  My old boss is now “Q”.  We made a list of characters and went about changing names and tried to be methodical so that Gary on each of our phones was  now Sam Sheppard. My friend Ellen acquired a new last name, Ellen Degeneris. My friend, Mike became Miley Cyrus.   He got an income increase, a sex change, and lost 30 years all by simply changing his name.   Sean is now Sean Connery.  On the bright side, he got a boost in income, character, but added almost 30 years.   Tradeoffs had to be made. 

My friend, now known as Gloria Estefan, listed the most important person in her life which is her son as “God”.  Now she gets calls from God.   She has the audacity to let it ring several times before she answers.  I think a call from God should be answered on the first ring, but that is just me.

We were quite impressed with our all-star list of contacts.  As my own little joke to myself, I changed my doctor’s name to Dr. Kevorkian.   The school is now Folsom Prison.   My husband’s work place is NASA Control Center.  We had a lark changing and updating names as we polished off a bottle of rum, even adding Cap’n Morgan in there as a name for a mutual friend.   We spent hours thinking of cool names as we encoded our directories.   Yes, we do have time to waste on nonsense like this.

The inevitable happened.  Dan Rather is calling, and I don’t know who the hell it is, but I put Hillary Clinton on hold to take it.  Michelle Obama texted asking if we were still on for lunch.    We might be if I could remember who she is.  I missed a call from the Duchess of Cambridge and have a message from Mr. Spock.   Adam Ant leaves texts for me to call him at home.   I would if I knew who it was.  Bart Simpson is calling and I think it is the real one.  He leaves texts saying "I will not cut corners" with a million ditto marks underneath it. 

I don’t know who is calling anymore as I forgot who they were originally.  But if I need a little ego boost, all I have to do is look at my call list.  Bill Clinton called twice yesterday, and Johnny Depp sexted me.

My First Colonoscopy or How to Keep A Healthy Colon

Like most middle aged women and men too, I finally heard the most dreaded words you can possibly hear if you are a normal healthy adult.  “You have to schedule your colonoscopy, or I cut off your supply of Xanax.”   

I had a mortal fear of this procedure.  Being a woman, we are accustomed to being probed, prodded, and poked, but no one ever shoved a camera up any orifice (excluding that time in 1989 that never happened).  Asses are off limits.  We just don’t like it.

Doctors will tell you, “It isn’t so bad. It saves lives and the drugs are good.” They will say anything to convince you to have it done.  Friends who have survived the ordeal say the night before preparations prior the procedure are the worst part.   Either way, I was going to avoid it as long as possible.  It was me against them.  This time they won. 

Well, my regular doctor made my appointment.   I sat pouting in  his office as I awaited  news on the the date and place of my unfortunate first time probing.   The office said they would schedule with Dr Brown, the best in the business. 

“Dr Brown?  A butt doctor?  Are you shitting me?  Why didn't he name himself Dr Anus.”  I giggled out the words. 

My doctor who has known me since I was as pure as driven over slush wryly answered, “I shit you not.”

Well that was the beginning of a monumental phase of my life.  It normally takes a month to see Dr Brown  (snicker), but they managed to get me in as a special favor to my doc in three days.  My doc explained that I would be sedated and unaware of the immodesty of the procedure.  He said they called in a prescription to flush out the system called MoviPrep and I should pick it up on the way home.

  

MoviPrep?  The comments kept coming from my mouth. “Do they make a movie with a camera shoved up my ass.  If I end up in some weird internet porn, I am suing.”

The doctor explained that it is called MoviPrep because you will make a move to the bathroom every 3 seconds the night before in preparation for the Master Prober.  Well, I picked up the prescription and the first thing that startled me was the cost.  I had to change underwear from hearing the sheer price.  With insurance, it was $60.  I understand $60 is not a lot to save a life, but damn, it’s a super laxative not some new cancer cure that targets cells and I had insurance.   Once I got the prescription I can say with experience and confidence, this prescription is the worst thing to hit the market since contaminated baby formula from China.  

I prepared the solution hours before so it would be cold which was supposed to make it easier to drink.  The day prior to the colonoscopy, you are not allowed to eat anything only clear liquids.  Then at 5:00 pm,  the real fun starts.  I removed the liquid from the refrigerator which comes in what appears to be 5 gallon containers.  I grabbed a straw to start drinking.  The first container has to be polished off within an hour.  I took my first taste.  This horrible laxative is a combination of Mr Clean combined with water from the Dead Sea.  It smelled and tasted just like mop water.  It was that bad. No, it was worse.   I would say it tastes like shit, but having never eaten it, it is an unfair comparison.  After the first gallon or so, I was gagging and could not drink, but I had to finish it in one hour.  I was running behind.   Finally I guzzled and fantasized that this is a form of torture, and if I survive, I win the lottery.  Finally I downed the first container with the thought that 500 million was my prize for this.   So far no diarrhea.  I was holding it in.  I would not cooperate with this drug.  I am queen of my domain, no one makes my ass move.  Then, my tummy began to rumble and make sounds like thirty cats being run through the spin cycle on the washer.  That was the few minutes before the shit hit the fan.

I felt the urge to go but this was more like an incident of my water breaking than diarrhea.  I went to the bathroom and whoosh.  I was through.  I was free to drink any clear liquid I wanted as long as it was not red, blue, or purple which means the only fluids available are bleach and ammonia.  The bleach and ammonia helped cleanse my palette of the awful taste of Mr Cleans Dead Sea Juice or more commonly called MoviPrep or even more commonly called mop water. 

I drank 7-up and ginger ale to clear out the bleach and ammonia that I used as a chaser for the MoviPrep.  My drinking was interrupted every 10 seconds by the 20 yard dash to the bathroom.  Then before I knew it, it was time for container two.  The container had grown in size since I put it in the refrigerator.  Now it was the size of a party keg and I had one hour to drink it.  I felt Like Scotty, “It cannot be done, Captain.”  

I began to drink from Tanker #2.  I swear my water broke 20 times that night, although I was assured by my doctor that I was not pregnant and had not been in 17 years.  He laughed his ass off to my chronic complaints and said I held the world’s record for being able to talk on the phone while on MoviPrep.  We divas must prioritize.  Complaints to the doctor that forced you to have this procedure trump rocket powered bowel movements.

After going to the bathroom 196 times, it was time for bed so I could be up and ready to go at 5:00 am.   Oddly enough, I slept through the night.  The next morning as soon as the alarm sounded so did the call to nature.  I Movi-Prepped quickly to the bathroom.  Whoosh.  Then off to the shower to make sure I was as  clean externally as I was internally.  Now I was ready for “my procedure”.

I arrived at the office a bit leery and disturbed by the upcoming event.  The nurses were women of great humor and said I would meet the doctor shortly.   I asked if it was appropriate to make fun of his name being Dr Brown when he is a colon/rectal specialist or more commonly called an ass doctor.  They laughed and said he loved it, but I would have to speak up as he is a little hard of hearing.  On cue, he walked in and introduced himself and was the best looking doctor I have ever seen. No kidding.  He had movie star quality good looks.

Undeterred by his physical appearance and the fact that I am a middle-aged woman having her first colonoscopy, I lit into him. I shouted, “So you are Dr Brown.  Did you make that up or is it your real name, Master Prober?”

He said, “I see you have been talking to my staff.  Remind me to fire them all.”

He was a man of practical wit and very much aware that none of us looked forward to his specialty. I immediately liked him.

Then the anesthesiologist came in and introduced himself.  He did not have a remarkable name so I just called him Dr Gas.  The nurses had already prepared the IV site and I was ready for him.  He was my only escape from this situation.  He had the drugs.  He announced he was going to inject, and it would hurt for a few seconds.  I told him he was my only friend in the operating room and to keep his eyes open on the others while I was sedated.   My conversation was interrupted by the profound ache at the IV site that made my entire arm feel like it had been hit by a sledge hammer 30 seconds before.  I said I could taste the drugs when I breathed.  I felt like I was breathing out drug vapors and any second, the whole crew would keel over.  He comforted me by telling me this was all normal.

Then,  I was gone.  I remember nothing.  I woke up in recovery with a nurse telling me I was through and could go home in just a few minutes.  It was only 20 minutes later.  There was a large clock on the recovery wall as well as the OR.  The doctor came in beaming.  I asked if it was a boy or a girl. 

He laughed and proclaimed, “You didn't get a baby, but you have a beautiful colon.”

You probably won’t believe this but no handsome young professional has ever said that to me and I suddenly felt a sense of pride in this compliment.  

On a more serious side, get the colonoscopy.   The Movi-Prep tastes like mop water smells, but you have to drink it.  You don’t actually get diarrhea but a flushing of the colon.  It is not as bad as I like to make it sound.  Dr Brown and staff were perfect for my first time.  They were a delight.   It is a life preserving procedure.  Do it.  It only takes twenty minutes and you get color photographs of your colon.  Although my colon is beautiful, modesty prevents me from posting.  Use your imagination.

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Giant Crack in Africa Will Create a New Ocean -See Giant Crack That Did It

Y'all ain't gonna believe this $h!t! It is for real. A giant crack in Africa will create a new ocean. "A 35-mile rift in Ethiopia will likely become a new ocean eventually, researchers now confirm." This is an exact quote and note the use of the word "confirm". That means it's true!

I think we see the crack responsible! Who knew you could do that? I have seen bigger bums that that, but they were covered. For that I am quite thankful. It lends new meaning to "Thanksgiving". None of these larger "cracks" ceated oceans. Would't the bladder be responsible for that?

This is some weird activity going on here. This crack is 20 feet at the widest location. (I knew it was big but it didn't look that big.) Since it's first appearance in 2005 (call me crazy but I think it goes back farther than that), "some geologists believed then that it would spawn a new ocean." The rift has not been intensely studied (something else to be thankful for). You would think a giant crack like that could spawn some terrible things, but an ocean was not one of the choices I had in mind.

A new study among an international team of scientist, indicates a sea is in the future for this area. It is nearly the same as what goes on at the bottom of the ocean. The same rift activity is slowly parting the Red Sea. Holy Moses, we have got to stop this.

This is pretty graphic right here so don't let the kids read this. I will use exact quotes once again with selective parts left out to make it more amusing. "The rift tore open along its entire 35-mile length in just days. Then magma pushed up through the middle of the rift area and began "unzipping" the rift in both directions, the researchers explained in a statement today." Please don't let there be any more unzipping. How do we zip that thing back up?

"Such sudden large-scale events on land pose a much more serious hazard to populations living near the rift than would several smaller events" No kidding. With a crack like that, you folks better run for your life.

"The whole point of this study is to learn whether what is happening in Ethiopia is like what is happening at the bottom of the ocean where it's almost impossible for us to go," "We knew that if we could establish that, then Ethiopia would essentially be a unique and superb ocean-ridge laboratory for us. Because of the unprecedented cross-border association behind this research, we now know that the answer is yes, it is analogous." Do not snicker about the "bottom of the ocean and "anal"agous or "ass"ociation behind the research. I think this is a cryptic message.

We need to do the right thing and rid the world of this Ethipioian crack.

Lisa On TV

Cute kid, soothing colorful fish and wild anemone mini film.

Parting Words

A video dream poem featuring the art and music of Jill Mattson with the words and voice of Belinda Subraman.

David Moolten: Prize Winning Poet and M.D.

David N. Moolten is the author of three books of poetry, Plums & Ashes (Northeastern University, 1994), which won the Samuel French Morse Poetry Prize, and Especially Then (David Robert Books, 2005). The manuscript for a third book, Primitive Mood recently won the T.S. Eliot Prize from Truman State University Press, with publication anticipated in the fall of 2009.

Poems by David Moolten have appeared in Poetry, The Georgia Review, The Kenyon Review, The Southwest Review, and Epoch, among other journals and reviews. His work has been widely anthologized and his honors include a Pennsylvania Council on the Arts Fellowship and a Pushcart Prize.

Moolten, a physician specializing in transfusion medicine, was educated at Harvard College and the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine. He lives, writes, and practices in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Dr. Moolten can be contacted by email at dmoolten@gmail.com

Listen to Podcast interview.

Gardenia Petals

Visual Poetry with the art of Dawn Petty, the poetry of Annette Marie Hyder read by Belinda Subraman with the music of Ken Clinger. A Vergin' Production.

Ugly Art Dolls

2.5 minutes of sublimely strange visual poetry created with the art of Ugly Shayla, the words of Belinda Subraman and the music of Ken Clinger and John Lisiecki. A Vergin' Production.




http://youtube.com/belindasubraman

New short visual poetry film: WHOSE CRIES ARE NOT MUSIC

Kudos for BLUE ROOMS, BLACK HOLES, WHITE LIGHTS

Here's the link about BLUE ROOMS, BLACK HOLES, WHITE LIGHTS:

http://www.elpasotimes.com/living/ci_12173583

Many thanks to Donna Snyder.

Artwork for the book is by Cesar Ivan.

http://www.newspapertree.com/culture/3601-a-classic-art-form-goes-from-digital-to-print-in-new-chapbook-release

Thanks to Elizabeth Ruiz.

New book, just published

New book, BLUE ROOMS, BLACK HOLES, BRIGHT LIGHTS available from Unlikely Books .

Check out the link for details.

Blue Rooms,Black Holes, White Lights

A video presentation from Unlikely Books on Belinda Subraman's book, BLUE ROOMS, BLACK HOLES, WHITE LIGHTS,edited by Jonathan Penton with words and vocal performance by Belinda, music by Ken Clinger and art by Cesar Ivan.

New from Belinda

Special feature in Six Sentences: http://sixsentences.blogspot.com/2009/01/six-sixes-by-belinda-subraman.html

New little art videos here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_3EZH9LPiE

and here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VmcHUnL0hM

Please leave comments if you wish to encourage me!

My Growing appreciation for New Mexico and the Apaches

Last night I was the quick change wardrobe person for Cheech and Chong. They were very nice to me and I did my best to keep the many costumes ready and waiting, helping as I could. It was a sold out house at the Inn of the Mountain Gods on the Mescalero Apache Reservation. It is the most beautiful resort anywhere. It happens to have a casino and several fine restaurants, ski resort, golfing, game hunting and more. For further details about the resort and some history of the tribe check out:

http://www.innofthemountaingods.com/

Also, not at the resort, but on the reservation, I am working at he Care Center as an RN. It is an easy going, nice place to work. The responsibilities are serious but the attitudes of my co-workers and superiors make it the best situation I've had in a long while.

Tomorrow I may check out the possibility of being an extra in a new Denzel Washigton film being made in this area.

I love living in New Mexico!

From NOTES OF A HUMAN WAREHOUSE ENGINEER

After dinner I took Mrs. Cunningham

to her room to put her to bed.
First I had to remove the chunks of food
from her fists.
“Let me take this away Mrs. C.
We don’t want you to sleep with crumbs.”
And Mrs. C. with a sly smile on her 100
year old mouth says,
“I hadn’t planned on it.
I’ll be sleeping alone, thank you.”


Mrs. Hijar suddenly said in English

“I am God.”
“You are God?”
“No,” she answered,
“My daddy is God.”
“Oh, that’s good. I would not
know what to say if I was in
the room with God.
And Mrs. Trigg her roommate
added, “Me neither. God dam,
that was a close call.”


Mrs. Martin is back

from the hospital,
3rd time in 3 months.
This time the anesthetic
has demented her.
She had a phone dangling
from her bed.
She wanted to speak to Robert Lee.
The address book was on her night stand.
I looked for “Lee.” No Lee.
“Sorry, I don’t see Robert Lee.’
“Robert E. lee,” she said.
Oh.


Spanish

in a quiet monotone
sounds like this to me:
“Um uh uh um mmm bano.”
So, I’ll take you to the bathroom.
Spanish
in a shrill excited tone
sounds like this to me:
“Caw me caw yap yo caw bano.”
So, I’ll take you to the bathroom.


I have always suspected

that CNA’s
recorded meal intakes
without even looking at the plates.
Residents who barely eat anything
at dinner are charted
as eating 100 percent
at breakfast and lunch.
“Oh they eat better in the morning.”
Hummm, okay, maybe.
But tonight I noticed on the intake sheet
that Mrs. Lambert, who died three days ago,
ate all of her food today.

New at Sounds From Invisible Trees

Jill Mattson has provided some of her hauntingly beautiful music to the piece called "Spirit."

Listen at http://www.myspace.com/soundvoices99

Dik Dik

Quiz Time

I gave the dictionary
to my man
and asked
“How do you spell dildo?
I can’t find it?”

He asked,
“Are you writing dirty poems
again?”
I said “ no”
But he didn’t believe me.
He put his finger
on the page
and said,
“Here, use this one,
‘dik dik’.
It’s an African antelope
about a foot tall.
That’s close enough.”

Gift

Gift

As each empowering moment
is pounded into the psyche,
radiating deep vibrations
through the cosmic web…
as each rain drop reflects
a different part of the universe…
we cannot separate water from wetness,
illusion from reality.
Wisdom is knowing this.

I give you art:
authentic,
sunrise,
a new day,
with ethereal etching,
my shadow
as signature.

I took this from here: http://gypsymagcom4.moonfruit.com/#/lastwords/4518442204

Sounds from Invisible Trees: New work posted here

http://www.myspace.com/soundvoices99

Hey, Barb, I'm expanding Eve.

Notes on the Last Supper

Last night (for the show) and early this morning (around 3:00 a.m. for the load out.) was the last of Jesus Christ Superstar tech. It was the most beautiful experience I have had at the Spencer. Ted, (Jesus for the last 35 years) has a loving persona and made sure all of us felt appreciated every day. He gave us each a warm and lingering hug goodbye. I had watched him (from stage right) ascend (fly) from the cross each night which was beautiful and moving no matter what one’s personal beliefs. I noticed Mary’s character would come off the stage crying from her moving scene at the cross. Ted always needed at least 20 minutes in his dressing room to decompress. They took very seriously the power of their performances on the audience and themselves.

There was a bond between the stage techs too. We knew we were part of something very special. Never mind the backaches, headache and long hours. We were part of something historical. Compassion and kindness were generated everywhere.

The next few days will be re-coop time. I am drained in many ways.

I have other projects in the wings.

There is nothing “ordinary” about my life just now except putting on my pants one leg at a time, etc. like everybody else.