...the Journal

Mom's
Refrigerator Door

This is a postcard that Anna from Lucidity sent me because I was the 29,999th person to visit her site. (#30,000 apparently didn't pay attention)


Smoking Gun
The Smoking Gun brings you exclusive documents -- cool, confidential, quirky -- that can't be found elsewhere on the Web. Using material obtained from government and law enforcement sources, via Freedom of Information requests, and from court files nationwide, we guarantee everything here is 100% authentic.


I know art when I see it
...and this ain't it. For some truly bad art, try this site.


Beauty is Skin Deep
I don't know from makeup, but maybe if I read The Make-Up Diva, I, too, could become gorgeous.



WHAT I'M READING

Take Me Home
by John Denver
w/Arthur Tobler

When Peggy was here, we listened to a lot of John Denver music (which I don't think Steve has forgiven me for). I was so intrigued by so many of his lyrics that I wanted to read the story behind them, so borrowed the book from her.



WHAT I'VE WATCHED

The Golden Globes. I'm a sucker for tacky awards shows.
My assessment: Liz shoulda stayed home.



That's it for today!

THE MOSQUITO HAS LANDED

23 January 2001

I also thought about calling this entry "I’m itching to tell you..."

This isn’t mosquito season and in all honesty i haven’t actually seen a mosquito, but something sure as heck has been biting me for days. I’ve heard others say the same thing. Some critter seems to have taken a liking to my cheek--and I don’t mean the one on my face--and I wake up each morning with some sort of an itchy welt. There are also bumps on other parts of my body and then "referral itches," itches for the sake of itching. Sympathy itches, as it were.

Nothing more frustrating than an itch that you can’t quite get rid of. (and nothing quite so satisfying as an itch that finally gets scratched)

Itches also seem to multiply. You start itching and the spot becomes elusive. I know it’s here SOMEWHERE, dammit! It feels like it’s somewhere on your arm, but actually you hit that spot on your leg and ahhhhhh...that’s better. It’s some sort of weird itchupuncture.

My back itches. My back always itches. There is this spot near my right shoulder blade that itches most of the time. I don’t know why, but it’s been a condition for years. It’s too far down to reach over the top, and too far up to reach from the bottom. I keep a back scratcher here at my desk when it gets unbearable, a husband with fingernails when the back scratcher isn’t available, and a wall or door jam when neither is around.

I sympathize with the dog when she rolls around on the floor. You can see the look of relief on her face as she scratches her back on the nap of the rug...and the bliss in her eyes when she gets someone who will sit and scratch her back for hours.

Ever notice how your body seems to want to be scratched at the most inopportune times? Just as soon as you can’t scratch, sure as shootin’ that’s when you start itching all over. (Just ask anybody who has ever had to wear a cast!)

I gave birth during the days when they put your legs in stirrups and strapped your hands to the bars of the delivery table. It never failed. Every single time, they’d get me all strapped in and I wouldn’t get a contraction--my nose would itch. I’d have to ask a nurse to scratch it. Know how embarrassing it is to have to ask somebody to scratch your nose for you?

And of course there are the unmentionable itches. I worked in a gynecologist’s office. I know from itches. Lots of squirming going on in those waiting room seats sometimes. Nothing like some dignified matron sitting there waiting for the doctor and looking decidedly uncomfortable. An itch just needs to be scratched, no matter where it is, or who you are sometimes.

My head itches. It’s actually always itched. I’ve gone through periods of dandruff treatment, but mostly I think it’s just a scalp discomfort. It invariably itches when I’m driving and am tired. In fact, it seems everyone knows that a sure sign that I’m getting sleepy is when I start scratching my head. Peggy always made me stop the car and get out and walk around as soon as I started scratching my head.

The problem with this common knowledge is that sometimes ... honestly ... it’s just that my scalp itches. Unless you’re on this side of the body, it’s hard to know whether the scratch is a sleepy-scratch or just a plain ordinary itch-scratch. So when I know I’m not sleepy but my head itches, it’s hell because I don’t dare scratch or someone will be making me get out and walk around.

"All right, Ma’am. I saw that scratching. Get out of the car. Now."

Itching can also be suggestive, I suspect. Just like yawning.

Fess up. How many of you have scratched something while you’ve been reading this entry?


Some pictures from this journal
can be found at
Club Photo


<- previous | Journal home | bio | cast | archive | next ->
Bev's Home Page

Created 1/22/01 by Bev Sykes