Just about the time I thought I was famous, I start a Substack and discover so few ever met me. Thank you for writing on Substack so I could discover your writing and humor. You are the same age as my sisters and we still think each other is hilarious and nobody "gets it" but us. And that's okay because we don't seek approval from anyone and depend on each other for endless entertainment and conversations about every intellectually stimulating topic imaginable. Your books, for example, stir our conversations and appreciation for every day we have with each other.
I love that you and your sisters are hilarious and nobody else gets it but you. That's called family, and perfectly shared intimacy, and how satisfying to have the same sense of humor and no doubt, the absurd.. Hooray for you,. And thank you for your kind words.I'm honored!
I snortled. You’re funny! And I empathize. Could be a floater in your vision? Either way, playing with perception is fun, and if it’s due to momentary disorientation, may as well make the best of it. I came here to say there’s an 8”x11” printout of the Mona Lisa taped to my bedroom ceiling, above my bed. It’s a remnant of my daughters’ April Fool’s prank, which was to tape Mona Lisas all over the house. 😂 They’re home schooled, not sure if that’s relevant. Anyway, we’re going on 7 months and I’ve no intention of taking it down. The thing is, a visitor noticed it and asked if it was some kinda Victorian kink. Uh… no.
I get deeply engaged by everything you write - all respect Abigail Thomas - and thank you - your words make me feel a bit better about my me - a tricky me at times xx
I died. hahahaha. Oh my god. This is damned hilarious. (looks for my own spot) HEY now I want a spot too. You know it reminds me of the Soot Sprites in Miyazaki's film Spirited Away. Have you seen it? If not I'm pretty sure you need to.
When our power was out during hurricane Helene my daughter said "Ma guess what? I still have a DVD" (a what?) of Spirited Away. It was our favorite movie. So we watched it on her laptop with the lights out. I always find some new delight when I watch his movies.
Useless? Not true. We’re here, and though we can’t explain why, we’re feeling vindicated and seen. Little black spots have purposes so ubiquitous and necessary that words and thoughts can’t contain them or even remain…
My son took me to a fancy pot shop in San Francisco and had an interesting discussion with the helper behind the counter. (Helper's dialogue was mostly phrases like "Yeah, man" and " This here's some mellow shit." They were discussing which of the many flavors of gummy would best suit an old lady. I finally had to say, "Listen boys, you didn't invent this stuff and this ain't my first rodeo." Turns out it was, actually. That gummy threw me right off my high horse. Nibble. Don't bite.
I’m in the floater camp. I see them when I’m reading a book and they wonder from the top of the page to the bottom. I do think our eyes see what the brain encourages us to see, and sometimes our brain is just plain wrong.
Maybe it means something. Who knows. Black hole. Ultimate reality. I like my room pitch black when I sleep. Black out shades. Curtains over the black out shades. Duct tape over the little lights on the air purifier and the power strip and the mini split AC/heater. It’s an adventure if I have to get up and pee. The door. It’s there somewhere. I’m like a pilot disoriented before the crash. Where is up? Where is down? Why don’t I know where is what. It’s amazing, really. All I want is to get to the bathroom and it’s a big adventure. Follow the black spot. It’s an adventure.
I don't like tripping, unless itis focused on my little black spot. I tried very hard to get the ceiling fan to move, and once it moved a tiny bit, but I never thought of it as tripping, I thought of it as a superpower, which I guess might be called tripping.
LOL! Got it. I’ve never been high before — unless you count anesthesia, the one time I got plastered at 16 and the time I had a mimosa (I felt un-human) — ok so maybe I don’t want that 🤣🤣🤣
Well, you’re not alone, Abigail. My mum had visual glitches in her later years. (She lived to 91 and was still lucid and reciting poetry, despite the vision glitch and a patchier memory.) So does my mother in law. (She was convinced there was a flock of birds in a tree and was asking me whether I saw them, too. I didn’t, and couldn’t lie.) And I think a Margaret Atwood character also had them, in one of her short stories. Can’t remember the title.
Roll with it and keep telling us about it. Being ever-curious is a gift.
Just about the time I thought I was famous, I start a Substack and discover so few ever met me. Thank you for writing on Substack so I could discover your writing and humor. You are the same age as my sisters and we still think each other is hilarious and nobody "gets it" but us. And that's okay because we don't seek approval from anyone and depend on each other for endless entertainment and conversations about every intellectually stimulating topic imaginable. Your books, for example, stir our conversations and appreciation for every day we have with each other.
I love that you and your sisters are hilarious and nobody else gets it but you. That's called family, and perfectly shared intimacy, and how satisfying to have the same sense of humor and no doubt, the absurd.. Hooray for you,. And thank you for your kind words.I'm honored!
I snortled. You’re funny! And I empathize. Could be a floater in your vision? Either way, playing with perception is fun, and if it’s due to momentary disorientation, may as well make the best of it. I came here to say there’s an 8”x11” printout of the Mona Lisa taped to my bedroom ceiling, above my bed. It’s a remnant of my daughters’ April Fool’s prank, which was to tape Mona Lisas all over the house. 😂 They’re home schooled, not sure if that’s relevant. Anyway, we’re going on 7 months and I’ve no intention of taking it down. The thing is, a visitor noticed it and asked if it was some kinda Victorian kink. Uh… no.
I can't for the life of me see the ona Lisa inspiring any kind of kink! what a funny question. But I love the story, thank you!
that's MONA not ona
Apologies in advance for being practical in response to your artistic and poetic. Sounds like macular degeneration or floaters to me.
Thank you but no, it's just that one little black spot on my ceiling. Nothing else. But I apppreciate your suggestion. Thank you.
My 97 year-old mother-in-law over in New Hampshire has something to say about not remembering things. ¨It must not have been important.¨
I'm with her. Thank you.
I'll see your one, and raise you two.
What? what? what? Do you see two spots crawling around above your head?
I wasn’t going to ever say anything until you did. It’s all your fault.
I am laughing again. You have to be more specific!
Spots and I will be in touch.
This reminds me of Woolf’s short story / essay ‘The Mark On The Wall’ (it’s good)
Thank you for that enormous compliment.
i don't do compliments - ask anyone - I only write what i mean xx
more raymond carver I felt - with a shake and a twist of mansfield
Thank you, wow.
and you too - make me feel good x
I get deeply engaged by everything you write - all respect Abigail Thomas - and thank you - your words make me feel a bit better about my me - a tricky me at times xx
That makes me feel good, thank you.
I died. hahahaha. Oh my god. This is damned hilarious. (looks for my own spot) HEY now I want a spot too. You know it reminds me of the Soot Sprites in Miyazaki's film Spirited Away. Have you seen it? If not I'm pretty sure you need to.
I LOVE Spirited Away, yes. Seen it a couple of times. Thank you for reminding me it's time to watch it again.
When our power was out during hurricane Helene my daughter said "Ma guess what? I still have a DVD" (a what?) of Spirited Away. It was our favorite movie. So we watched it on her laptop with the lights out. I always find some new delight when I watch his movies.
Useless? Not true. We’re here, and though we can’t explain why, we’re feeling vindicated and seen. Little black spots have purposes so ubiquitous and necessary that words and thoughts can’t contain them or even remain…
Delightful read. Made me giggle. 🤭
Oh good! Thank you.
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Don’t let it go nowhere
I want to see the superpower
Laughed my ass off, reading this
Thank you so much
You’re the best !!!!
I'll try to hang on to it, yes. But I'm off the gummies and maybe it's a superpower that will stick around.
Yes, "the gummie side door" yummie...
just - on the mark.
Get set, GO!
My son took me to a fancy pot shop in San Francisco and had an interesting discussion with the helper behind the counter. (Helper's dialogue was mostly phrases like "Yeah, man" and " This here's some mellow shit." They were discussing which of the many flavors of gummy would best suit an old lady. I finally had to say, "Listen boys, you didn't invent this stuff and this ain't my first rodeo." Turns out it was, actually. That gummy threw me right off my high horse. Nibble. Don't bite.
I love you for saying that to the guy. But I'm sorry about the high horse.
I’m in the floater camp. I see them when I’m reading a book and they wonder from the top of the page to the bottom. I do think our eyes see what the brain encourages us to see, and sometimes our brain is just plain wrong.
Maybe it means something. Who knows. Black hole. Ultimate reality. I like my room pitch black when I sleep. Black out shades. Curtains over the black out shades. Duct tape over the little lights on the air purifier and the power strip and the mini split AC/heater. It’s an adventure if I have to get up and pee. The door. It’s there somewhere. I’m like a pilot disoriented before the crash. Where is up? Where is down? Why don’t I know where is what. It’s amazing, really. All I want is to get to the bathroom and it’s a big adventure. Follow the black spot. It’s an adventure.
I think I need some gummies.
Hahahahaha! Tidy up your ceiling. Or maybe draw yourself a spot to watch.
There is nothing on my ceiling — I just wouldn’t mind trippin’ while I wrestle with my menopause brain 🤣🤣🤣
I don't like tripping, unless itis focused on my little black spot. I tried very hard to get the ceiling fan to move, and once it moved a tiny bit, but I never thought of it as tripping, I thought of it as a superpower, which I guess might be called tripping.
LOL! Got it. I’ve never been high before — unless you count anesthesia, the one time I got plastered at 16 and the time I had a mimosa (I felt un-human) — ok so maybe I don’t want that 🤣🤣🤣
Well, you’re not alone, Abigail. My mum had visual glitches in her later years. (She lived to 91 and was still lucid and reciting poetry, despite the vision glitch and a patchier memory.) So does my mother in law. (She was convinced there was a flock of birds in a tree and was asking me whether I saw them, too. I didn’t, and couldn’t lie.) And I think a Margaret Atwood character also had them, in one of her short stories. Can’t remember the title.
Roll with it and keep telling us about it. Being ever-curious is a gift.
I wish it were a flock of birds in a tree I was conjuring. What a lovely image.
Well, this morning it was moving again. Last night it must have been dozing.