God... have I really had this blog for a year now?! That's nuts!
Anyhoo, I haven't been putting in a lot of "Project Runway" action, because, quite frankly, I haven't enjoyed it much this year. The clothing has been "eh." The people are "eh."
No Austin Scarletts, no Wendy Peppers, No Jay McCarrolls... ::sigh:: boooo-ringgg.
I dislike Santino Rice with his beautiful skin, and his thinning, greasy, Jesus hair, and his mossy DISGUSTING teeth...
Although, I think he's sort of cute when he's being yelled at. But then I realize he probably smells like wet garbage, and I'm over him. And also I think about having to kiss him and it makes my stomach turn, because I imagine I'd come away with a piece of chewed beef or lettuce in my mouth, and that's just awful. ::shudder::
Oh. Wait. I totally had this blog idea today, and I just remembered it! It's totally creepy and morbid, and lets you into one of my inner thoughts... and no, they're not ALL like the one I'm about to share. Usually they're McDonald's commercials from 1987 about Hard-Nose Mrs. Hatcher (
http://www.x-entertainment.com/thanksgiving/macyparade/1987/1987-mcdhatcher.wmv)
(Seriously. This is usually running through my head, and it has been for 19 years. It's a real problem.) or going through the details of embarassing moments from my life.
I'm scrapping my Santino post.
Okay. My twisted, sick and morbid thought... Now, disclaimer, I'm not a sick ghoul... these things don't occupy my mind... it's just every now and then it'll pop in, and then I think "huh..." and then it pops out again.
I've always been the inquisitive sort. I touch the button that says "Don't touch." I've accidentally tinkered with my computer's registry (BAD IDEA, DON'T TRY IT.) As a child I took all of my toys apart. I want to know how things happen and what makes them happen.
Now, this morbid thought that I have, which I am about to reveal, actually lead me to another less morbid thought, that, nonetheless, I don't understand.
THE MORBID THOUGHTAfter someone dies, and is buried... a while later, when the person pops into my head, be it a celebrity or a family member, occasionally... I wonder what stage of decomposition they're in.
I know. Weird, right? Like my Grandmother. She's been dead for five years. Sometimes I think, "Is grandma just bones now?" Now, obviously, I don't want to SEE grandma, because that would be a horrible, HORRIBLE, traumatic experience. I wonder what happened to that flower I dropped into her grave. Did it turn into dirt? Are there any recognizable pieces of it left? What will happen to the dirt that the flower may have become? Will it stay in place for thousands and thousands of years? Or my uncle Moe, who's been dead for probably like three years. Sometimes I think "Is Uncle Moe bones yet?" Did uncle Moe become a mummy in the cold Massachussetts ground? I want these people to hasten to become bones, because I'm concerned...I don't like to think of them decomposing, so I'd prefer that they got to the state that they'll be in, until their bones desintigrate, as quickly as possible. But then...what happens when their wooden caskets collapse!? I don't want that to happen! I don't want them to get wet! Or crushed!
Sometimes I think the same thing about George Washington. Or Humphrey Bogart. Or Queen Victoria. Or like... the people buried in those above-ground crypts in Medieval Cathedrals... do they turn into bones? Or do they mummify? And if they did turn into bones, did their bones desintigrate? And if they did, what's left? Dust? They haven't moved in 5 or 6 hundred years... are they literally just a pile of dust? If the dust isn't there, where did it go? Is it on top of that Statute of the Virgin Mary? What happened to all the energy that was in their body? Did it turn into heat from the bacteria eating it and then warm up the cold marble of their sarcophagi by a few fractions of a degree? Because all of the caloric energy that made them up has to go SOMEWHERE!!
And then, from tangents like these, came my thought of today:
Why don't living people decompose? What is it about blood flow and energy and showering that makes a living person not turn into a corrupt and bubbling bag of sludge, and then into dry bones? Is it because we have an immune system that attacks anything that wants to eat us? What is it about the chemical process of living that keeps us from putrifying? Why is it that when we die, we decompose, but when we're alive, we don't?!
Now, I'm sure most of you have never had these thoughts. And yes, they're sort of dark and weird. The ones about my dead relatives are, thankfully, never to be answered. They'll just be a hypothetical. I suppose in another five years, I'll think back on Grandma, and think "Yeah. She's just bones now." But then will come the worry that her casket will leak, and get her bones wet, and honestly? I have much more pressing issues to worry about.
The why we don't turn into rotting corpses when we're alive question -- anyone have an answer to that one?
