The other day, when walking with Bethany I had the strangest blackout migraine attack. I woke up a few days later with a medical condition that can only be described as a hybrid of chronic fatigue syndrome and agoraphobia. I did leave my place for long enough one day to sit on the beach and get a front-of-the-legs-sunburn but for the most part I have only been able to watch movies and nap and make lists of people I should call before dying of this terrible condition. If you haven’t received a phone call from me it is because I would rather you remember me as spunky. I went out once to Fresh and Easy and the post office but for the most part I have been inside watching such uplifting films as “Autumn Sonata” and “4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days.” So I am even more convinced that you don’t have to leave your home to find pain and suffering. I wonder things like how does one age as gracefully as Ingrid Bergman and did communist Romania really keep track of their female citizens menstrual cycles or did they just withhold shampoo? Or was the only shampoo available for normal or dry hair? Why is everything always limp, greasy, and acid-washed in eastern europe? What does it mean that two of the last couple winners of the Palme D'or made movies about selling or aborting babies? What is that about? A step beyond baby-boomer apocalypse-ism. Future-murder? Feminist implosion? Tell me and I will stop having migraines.