Friday, September 21, 2007

I'm not drunk, I just have rocks in my head

...In my inner ear, to be precise. Did you know that one of the ways your brain can tell which way is up is by the pressure of little calcium carbonate "rocks" in the labyrinth of your inner ear? And that when you get older those little rocks can break, or move and confuse your brain?

I try to only discuss foster care issues here, but I'm taking a break to whine, Doolittle style.

My fricative vertigo is back! Brown Word! It is not just that when I lie down the world spins, or that when I stand up the floor tilts. Or that bending over to tie my shoe can cause me to fall on my cursed hind quarters.

No. It is if I don't walk like a fricative run-way model I look like a Deity-condemned, lice-infested person who has consumed too much beverage of the alcoholic variety. Actually, walking carefully like a frictiave run-way model can in itself resemble the walk of the inebriated.

Twice in class I had to steady myself against cursed wall. The entire world has turned into frictive teeter-totter.

Fortunately I explained to the students at the beginning of class that it was just that I had loose rocks rattling around in my head.

What can I say.

Life's a dogmatriarch.

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