(no subject)

Every time I stand after sitting, or sit after lying, I grow so dizzy and blind.

When I was around the age of eight, my father picked me up for one of our infrequent weekend visits. Driving to his house, an hour away through silver grass and dark pines, he told me he had for me a surprise, for my birthday, waiting there. His house.
Of course I demanded to know what it was; but no, it was a surprise, though he did urge me to guess what it might be.
"Well it could be anything! Give me a clue."
"Okay then. Umm.. it's always wet."
Immediately I guessed, what else could it be? Pet fish.
But he was so excited, so happy to be surprising me with this marvellous birthday gift, to guess correctly first try would be a heinous crime. How did an eight year old in a pink-spotted ruffle skirt know this? I played the game,
"Is it a swimsuit?"
"No. Bathers aren't wet when you're not swimming in them!"
"Oh yeah! Is it a bath toy?"
"No. Bath toys are presents for two-year-olds!"
"Oh yeah! Is it.. umm.. Golly gosh dad, I just can't guess!"
etc etc etc for an hour-long car ride etc.

Well, it was pet fish. Three Comet goldfish in a too-small aquarium.
"Ohh.. of course! Always wet! Can I take them home?"
"Well.. No."

(Incidentally, this was one of my father's favourite tricks: to buy himself something and pretend it was for you. I dimly recall, in the hallway of the pink-carpeted home we all shared till I was seven, a garish painting of three rainbow lorikeets perching in a various-posed row, an anniversary gift for mumm which he took with him when he left, leaving a much preferred by all slightly less-pale pink un-hole on the wall. Mumm's sunglasses, a birthday gift, which went missing around the same time he left with the painting, I noticed perched on his decently-sized nose on another of those infrequent weekend visits.)

"What kinda fishs are they?" So I could tell all my Catholic-school friends.
"Well," he grinned. "Those two are goldfish, obviously, and that one's a silverfish."
"Cool!"

A week later, telling all my Catholic-school friends about my amazing three new fishs, my third grade teacher overheard.
"That's great, Jessie! What kinda fish did you get?"
"I gots two goldfishs and a silverfish!"

She smirked. "Well, they would all be goldfish, dear. Some are just silver in colour."
"Nuh-uh! My dad said. Two goldfishs and a silverfish!"
"Ha ha!" Ha'd some unmemorable Catholic-school unfriend. "You're dumb! Your dad's dumb!"
"Silverfish, ha ha! That's a kinda worm!" Ha'd another.
"Nuh-uh! My dad is not dumb. He's a policeman."
"Dumb! Silverfish dumb!"

At that point our Catholic-school teacher made us all bend over to smack us on the bum with the blackboard ruler.

This all came flashing back recently because! I have a new 38 litre aquarium. 983465 yays!
After running it fishless for a week, on the advice of the grandmotherly petstore lady, I ran out and bought two goldfish.
A few days later one developed White Spot (Ich). I ran back to the petstore and bought medication, applying it to the whole aquarium on the advice of another grandmotherly petstore lady.
It's a few days later. Both fishs are dead.
I am so sad.