Saturday, April 01, 2006
Death and taxes
Another year, another having to sort through my receipts to see how much I'm going to get butt-raped by the guvmint. Thankfully, Greta's going to help me through it, but still, Gah.
Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death
Friday, March 31, 2006
Man, my ass is going to hurt tomorrow
No, no -- no such luck. (Shut-up, you.) But I did do something almost as exciting: The Popster and I jumped on our bikes today and rode about four miles. (By the way, did I mention she's going on 11 weeks knocked up? She sure is. Much too soon to know what the sex is, but we do know that it's no longer an embryo and is instead a fetus, which of course I've knicknamed Cletus because c'mon.) So anyway, yeah, got on the ol' bike and rode, and actually really loved it. I mean, the weather was just phenomenal today, and instead of riding around in the industrial complex that surrounds my crib, we rode the trail, and that was nice. And I felt really good doing it, too -- not too much sweating, had good clip going ... plus, I left my bike in her garage, so now I can just go to her crib and get it whenever I want to ride instead of having to haul it down my stairs and going through heavy traffic to get where I want to go. Who knew exercise could be so invigorating!?
Of course, now that I've found my groove, it'll become ass cold and rainy again.
Of course, now that I've found my groove, it'll become ass cold and rainy again.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
It’s Wednesday
and due to a fuck-up with Medicare Part D, Mother can't take her Prozac until Sunday.
Pray she doesn't end up underneath my car, please.
Pray she doesn't end up underneath my car, please.
And … it totally didn’t suck
In fact, I would dare say dinner was a lot of fun. Seriously. The kids were just darling and well-behaved (though they got a little antsy toward the end, but there was Littlest Pets to be bought at Target, and that's a huge deal, y'all), and we were like two ladies who lunch -- nothing uncomfortable or nasty about it.
I'm glad I went.
I DID forget to tell y'all, save for a couple people, about the jackasses I encountered at the gas station this afternoon. I'm waiting for the tank to fill when these lunkheads -- Momma, Big Daddy and Junior on Spring Break -- pull up beside me in their 1995 Buick something or other. Momma was driving, and Junior was pumping the gas, and I guess he filled the tank when he wasn't supposed to because Big Daddy starts yelling and calling him a moron at the top of his lungs. Well, I start putting on some lipstick, and I guess I shot them a look of "whatever" because I found myself making eye contact with Momma, who I thought agreed with me until she said, "Makeup ain't going to help you, honey."
(Now, I should interject here that Momma didn't look to be a particularly petite flower and had fried, bleached out hair with a good two inches of dark roots, so it makes what comes next even more absurd.)
Anyway, I must've rolled my eyes again when Big Daddy starts yelling -- again at the top of his lungs -- "Hey have you called Jenny Craig yet!?? The number's ..." as I drove away.
Normally, something like that wouldn't get to me, but it got me to thinking: "Man, do I really look like I've gained that much!?? I mean, I know I have, but is it really that bad to other people!??" So I called Poppy about it, and of course she gave me the usual about low-lifes and how they'll go for the easiest common denominator, but then we started talking about how weight gain is viewed as a sign of weakness, whether it is or not, and if you're not stick thin, you're open to that kind of criticism. I mean, I remember when I was much lighter and a dicklicker called me a "fat ass" right before I got him and his no-boobs on a stick skank kicked out of the Cubs/Sox matchup. That was kind of depressing.
I'm glad I went.
I DID forget to tell y'all, save for a couple people, about the jackasses I encountered at the gas station this afternoon. I'm waiting for the tank to fill when these lunkheads -- Momma, Big Daddy and Junior on Spring Break -- pull up beside me in their 1995 Buick something or other. Momma was driving, and Junior was pumping the gas, and I guess he filled the tank when he wasn't supposed to because Big Daddy starts yelling and calling him a moron at the top of his lungs. Well, I start putting on some lipstick, and I guess I shot them a look of "whatever" because I found myself making eye contact with Momma, who I thought agreed with me until she said, "Makeup ain't going to help you, honey."
(Now, I should interject here that Momma didn't look to be a particularly petite flower and had fried, bleached out hair with a good two inches of dark roots, so it makes what comes next even more absurd.)
Anyway, I must've rolled my eyes again when Big Daddy starts yelling -- again at the top of his lungs -- "Hey have you called Jenny Craig yet!?? The number's ..." as I drove away.
Normally, something like that wouldn't get to me, but it got me to thinking: "Man, do I really look like I've gained that much!?? I mean, I know I have, but is it really that bad to other people!??" So I called Poppy about it, and of course she gave me the usual about low-lifes and how they'll go for the easiest common denominator, but then we started talking about how weight gain is viewed as a sign of weakness, whether it is or not, and if you're not stick thin, you're open to that kind of criticism. I mean, I remember when I was much lighter and a dicklicker called me a "fat ass" right before I got him and his no-boobs on a stick skank kicked out of the Cubs/Sox matchup. That was kind of depressing.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
At least the kidlets will be there to kill the fall-out
My sister, SC, has invited me to dinner with the kidlets and her tonight; she's even buying with a gift certificate.
This could go so wrong on so many levels, but I think the key for me will be to be cool and non-specific. And to pay lots of attention to my niece and nephew, who I finally met a couple weekends ago.
Ah hell, I might as just tell y'all about that now while I'm here, right? I got a second before I jump in the shower and get down to the guvmint complex for some more investigative work.
Yeah, so anyway, a couple weekends ago, I'd gotten my nephew, who turned 6 just this past weekend, his birthday presents and was all set to either mail them or give them to BFKAS to get to the young sprout when BFKAS calls me and tells me she's going to this fundraiser in her town with some friends -- do I just want to meet her there? Well, all right, I said, so I went and couldn't find her or her friends (not that I knew what her friends looked like, anyway), so I called her and was like, "Hi! I'm here and you're not." She laughed and said that she decided not to go because SC and the kidlets were there (which I knew they were supposed to be in), so I told her that I had the gift, and she said come on over.
Let me start by saying that the kids are JUST BEAUTIFUL and have now commanded every last discretionary dollar I have for things like this, which my nephew is SO GETTING. Well-behaved, sweet, articulate, just like kids are supposed to be. My sister, on the other hand? You could feel the drop in her demeanor the minute I walked in the door, you could say. I mean, she could've been tired from the drive, sure, and it wasn't like she was ignoring me or anything, but ... you could just tell there was something hanging there in the ether, plus a couple questions she asked me about certain things were put in a way that you could tell it was meant to sting. But whatever. Prior to this, though, she and I had been e-mailing, and at one point she said that we need to sit down and talk about our stuff and how we're going to proceed, and I agreed but said that I wasn't ready to go there just yet and that if I was going to end up getting the ass end of everything, there wasn't going to be a conversation at ALL, because there just won't be.
So, is this a trick to get me somewhere to talk, or is it an opportunity to put another pleasant experience behind us so that when we DO eventually talk, we won't want to kill each other? We're going to find out, because I'm meeting her at 4:30.
This could go so wrong on so many levels, but I think the key for me will be to be cool and non-specific. And to pay lots of attention to my niece and nephew, who I finally met a couple weekends ago.
Ah hell, I might as just tell y'all about that now while I'm here, right? I got a second before I jump in the shower and get down to the guvmint complex for some more investigative work.
Yeah, so anyway, a couple weekends ago, I'd gotten my nephew, who turned 6 just this past weekend, his birthday presents and was all set to either mail them or give them to BFKAS to get to the young sprout when BFKAS calls me and tells me she's going to this fundraiser in her town with some friends -- do I just want to meet her there? Well, all right, I said, so I went and couldn't find her or her friends (not that I knew what her friends looked like, anyway), so I called her and was like, "Hi! I'm here and you're not." She laughed and said that she decided not to go because SC and the kidlets were there (which I knew they were supposed to be in), so I told her that I had the gift, and she said come on over.
Let me start by saying that the kids are JUST BEAUTIFUL and have now commanded every last discretionary dollar I have for things like this, which my nephew is SO GETTING. Well-behaved, sweet, articulate, just like kids are supposed to be. My sister, on the other hand? You could feel the drop in her demeanor the minute I walked in the door, you could say. I mean, she could've been tired from the drive, sure, and it wasn't like she was ignoring me or anything, but ... you could just tell there was something hanging there in the ether, plus a couple questions she asked me about certain things were put in a way that you could tell it was meant to sting. But whatever. Prior to this, though, she and I had been e-mailing, and at one point she said that we need to sit down and talk about our stuff and how we're going to proceed, and I agreed but said that I wasn't ready to go there just yet and that if I was going to end up getting the ass end of everything, there wasn't going to be a conversation at ALL, because there just won't be.
So, is this a trick to get me somewhere to talk, or is it an opportunity to put another pleasant experience behind us so that when we DO eventually talk, we won't want to kill each other? We're going to find out, because I'm meeting her at 4:30.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Feelin’ broody (Must be in the air, yo)
I've had some crap about my sister, SC, that I've been processing the past few days, and I was all ready to throw it out there, but then I went to this chocolate fundraiser thingy tonight and had a conversation that really kind of knocked the wind out of me. It was with this nurse who works hospice with end-stage Alzheimer's patients, and I asked her how does she and the other nurses know that the patients are in fact Alzhemier's patients and not just dying of old age. Well, she said, aside from the fact that they've been diagnosed with the disease (which, Ok, duh), the biggest sign is that they stop eating; their bodies just start shutting down and don't really need food anymore, so hospice comes to manage pain. Often, the patients really don't need it because endorphins take care of it kind of, but if they do, the nurses are there, etc. etc.
Now, I know I've mentioned before that Dad's cancer got into his spinal cord and rather quickly killed his ability to swallow, so I of course told her a little bit about that. And she of course hit it on the head that I wanted to keep him around a little longer, but she also told me a little-discussed bit of info: Feeding tubes are often a bad idea, because pumping nutrients into a person whose system is dying off makes it more painful for them. Dad didn't make it to the feeding tube part, but I can buy that as good information. What I'm having a hard time with is that I'm guessing that Alzheimer's is a totally different critter, that it's more of a natural process of the body shutting down and frankly, they've just forgotten they need to eat. But see, up until the week before he died, Dad was asking for food; he kept going for the closet so he could get dressed and he and Mother could go for ice cream. So to me, it says that even though he might've been losing his faculties, the will to live was still there. I mean, Mother tells me that Dad was ready to go and talked with her about selling the house and shit, but this is a woman who swears she's not going to be around in a year. Would YOU believe her!?? Then I start thinking about the night he told me he would have the spinal chord chemo, and I remember being so happy because there was my proof that he wasn't ready to go.
Yeah, I know the cancer got into his brain and all the nurses said he was in a coma at the end and didn't know what was happening to him. But he told me he wanted to live, so how could that have changed? To me, it didn't, and yet there was nothing anyone could do.
Now, I know I've mentioned before that Dad's cancer got into his spinal cord and rather quickly killed his ability to swallow, so I of course told her a little bit about that. And she of course hit it on the head that I wanted to keep him around a little longer, but she also told me a little-discussed bit of info: Feeding tubes are often a bad idea, because pumping nutrients into a person whose system is dying off makes it more painful for them. Dad didn't make it to the feeding tube part, but I can buy that as good information. What I'm having a hard time with is that I'm guessing that Alzheimer's is a totally different critter, that it's more of a natural process of the body shutting down and frankly, they've just forgotten they need to eat. But see, up until the week before he died, Dad was asking for food; he kept going for the closet so he could get dressed and he and Mother could go for ice cream. So to me, it says that even though he might've been losing his faculties, the will to live was still there. I mean, Mother tells me that Dad was ready to go and talked with her about selling the house and shit, but this is a woman who swears she's not going to be around in a year. Would YOU believe her!?? Then I start thinking about the night he told me he would have the spinal chord chemo, and I remember being so happy because there was my proof that he wasn't ready to go.
Yeah, I know the cancer got into his brain and all the nurses said he was in a coma at the end and didn't know what was happening to him. But he told me he wanted to live, so how could that have changed? To me, it didn't, and yet there was nothing anyone could do.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Pssst … good news from the reservation! Pass it on!
So, did y'all hear about the Native American warrior goddess (and I mean that in the most reverant, respectful way, because any woman with cajones as big as hers deserves a befitting title) who, when the fucktards in South Dakota (is that even really a state?) decided they were going to ban abortion, said she would build a Planned Parenthood on her reservation, where the fucktard government doesn't apply? Here's the information to either donate or give her a shout-out for her brilliance and bravery, since you just KNOW the rest of the fucktards are going to nail her to the cross simultaneously: Lookit
[Via mac, of course]
[Via mac, of course]
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Indeed
| Your Stripper Song Is |
 "That girl is pretty wild now The girl's a super freak The kind of girl you read about In new-wave magazine" Freaky? Yes. But you're also pretty darn funny. |
[Horked from the lovely Col]
Friday, March 17, 2006
Behold my brilliance
Below, my Pulitzer-worthy story.
Ok, not really. But it should serve as a reminder to Lake Conty politicos that the Innernet? Not as safe as you think, folks.
Ok, not really. But it should serve as a reminder to Lake Conty politicos that the Innernet? Not as safe as you think, folks.
I SMOKED ‘em, y’all! (but I’m still going to kick JB’s ass for this)
There are days when you just do your job, and you do a fine job, and you go to bed satisfied. And then there are the days when you are nothing short of absolutely BRILLIANT, and you squeal with glee and do the "WHOOMP! There it IS!" dance in your chair. And today? Was one of those days.
Our County Politics reporter, JB, absconded to NYC for a weekend of drunken debauchery with his brother for the High Holiday (bastards! I've already been warned that I'm getting drunk dialed by Mer tomorrow night), so my one editor sent me out to cover a press conference by this new group that claims it's compiling data on candidates so that voters will know who they're voting for. But instead of doing that, they presented a Web site slamming the incumbent sheriff's opponent which, all right, that's par for the course. The problem was, the spokeseperson said -- nay, inSISTED -- that they weren't affiliated at all with the incumbent sheriff. So, I got a wild hair up my ass when I got home and decided that I was going to see if I could find out who the Web site was registered to. I did a whois and discovered that our site owner was trying to not be whois-ed, because s/he put bullshit information (i.e. Lake County for region, 99999 for the zip, etc.) in when s/he registered for the domain. I looked at that and thought, "Hmmmm, there's got to be a way to circumvent that. Who do I know that would know?"
That person? EWK. EWK walked me through how to do it and, well, looky there! Something miiiiiiiiiighty suspicious. So I called my editor, had her look up some information JB had on his desk, and, well, looky there! Now, what was miiiiiiiiiighty suspicious is now downright damning.
Unfortunately, I can't tell you what exactly it is, because the story isn't out yet. (I know -- awwwwwwwww!) I'll throw it up tomorrow, of course, but in the meantime, let's just say that if this "press conference" is the way the incumbent is running his campaign? He's doomed, because that was the most retarded display I think I've seen in, oh, the last three weeks.
Our County Politics reporter, JB, absconded to NYC for a weekend of drunken debauchery with his brother for the High Holiday (bastards! I've already been warned that I'm getting drunk dialed by Mer tomorrow night), so my one editor sent me out to cover a press conference by this new group that claims it's compiling data on candidates so that voters will know who they're voting for. But instead of doing that, they presented a Web site slamming the incumbent sheriff's opponent which, all right, that's par for the course. The problem was, the spokeseperson said -- nay, inSISTED -- that they weren't affiliated at all with the incumbent sheriff. So, I got a wild hair up my ass when I got home and decided that I was going to see if I could find out who the Web site was registered to. I did a whois and discovered that our site owner was trying to not be whois-ed, because s/he put bullshit information (i.e. Lake County for region, 99999 for the zip, etc.) in when s/he registered for the domain. I looked at that and thought, "Hmmmm, there's got to be a way to circumvent that. Who do I know that would know?"
That person? EWK. EWK walked me through how to do it and, well, looky there! Something miiiiiiiiiighty suspicious. So I called my editor, had her look up some information JB had on his desk, and, well, looky there! Now, what was miiiiiiiiiighty suspicious is now downright damning.
Unfortunately, I can't tell you what exactly it is, because the story isn't out yet. (I know -- awwwwwwwww!) I'll throw it up tomorrow, of course, but in the meantime, let's just say that if this "press conference" is the way the incumbent is running his campaign? He's doomed, because that was the most retarded display I think I've seen in, oh, the last three weeks.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Today was the day instead
A year ago this coming Sunday, I talked about seeing my ex-boyfriend from college and how I was kind of all freaked out about it, right? Hadn't seen him in 12 years, figured he'd be at the event with his bitchy wife, etc.
Yeah, saw him today at a different event for his not-for-profit. He looks exactly the same, if a little heavier and quite a bit more bald. (Then again, the last time he saw ME, I was 45 pounds lighter with vibrant red hair. In fact, he hasn't seen me as a brunette since before college, since I started dating him the summer before I started, and even then, I was more blonde than brunette. Yikes.) But we talked for, like, 45 minutes before I had to split to make deadline, catching up on shit and whatnot. Turns out that on top of his stepson, he has two kids of his own, which is really funny since kids were never part of his plan. But his little girl is gorgeous, blonde hair and blue eyes with a little Dutchboy cut -- just darling. And his little brother who I loved so much is now 24 (!) and working in PR for a Chicago real estate firm. I was like, "So that means I can conceivably run into him at a bar!?? Man, that ain't right." And he offered me condolences about Dad, naturally, but what was really wild is when I filled him in about the bio-fam, he remembered the guy who pretended to be my biological father back in college. (Haven't told y'all about that one, have I? Remind me to later.) And then, in probably the best moment of the conversation, we were talking about how his little brother who I love so much was never much of a partyer in high school, but that his own weakness was girls and oh, what he didn't do for girls -- not for them, but for himself. Having been the casualty of this weakness, I smiled and nodded, "Yeah, yeah." There was totally no rancor to it or anything; it was just a really sweet moment, one that I never imagined would've happened since our final breakup took about a year. Anyway, we talked about keeping in touch, maybe getting together for lunch when we have the time.
There was something oddly comforting about talking to him. Not in like a "get back together" kind of way, but like talking to someone you haven't talked to in years and picking up like it was yesterday. And what was really cool was seeing him so Dad-like about his kids. I'm still smiling about it, actually.
Yeah, saw him today at a different event for his not-for-profit. He looks exactly the same, if a little heavier and quite a bit more bald. (Then again, the last time he saw ME, I was 45 pounds lighter with vibrant red hair. In fact, he hasn't seen me as a brunette since before college, since I started dating him the summer before I started, and even then, I was more blonde than brunette. Yikes.) But we talked for, like, 45 minutes before I had to split to make deadline, catching up on shit and whatnot. Turns out that on top of his stepson, he has two kids of his own, which is really funny since kids were never part of his plan. But his little girl is gorgeous, blonde hair and blue eyes with a little Dutchboy cut -- just darling. And his little brother who I loved so much is now 24 (!) and working in PR for a Chicago real estate firm. I was like, "So that means I can conceivably run into him at a bar!?? Man, that ain't right." And he offered me condolences about Dad, naturally, but what was really wild is when I filled him in about the bio-fam, he remembered the guy who pretended to be my biological father back in college. (Haven't told y'all about that one, have I? Remind me to later.) And then, in probably the best moment of the conversation, we were talking about how his little brother who I love so much was never much of a partyer in high school, but that his own weakness was girls and oh, what he didn't do for girls -- not for them, but for himself. Having been the casualty of this weakness, I smiled and nodded, "Yeah, yeah." There was totally no rancor to it or anything; it was just a really sweet moment, one that I never imagined would've happened since our final breakup took about a year. Anyway, we talked about keeping in touch, maybe getting together for lunch when we have the time.
There was something oddly comforting about talking to him. Not in like a "get back together" kind of way, but like talking to someone you haven't talked to in years and picking up like it was yesterday. And what was really cool was seeing him so Dad-like about his kids. I'm still smiling about it, actually.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
For the halibut
I'm not going anywhere where I'm going to be dinner. And what if a whale were to swim up next to me!?? I've been whale watching before, you know. I'd have an aneurysm ... It's like going to Mars, but with all kinds of creepy living things.
-- Mer, on scuba diving
Monday, March 13, 2006
Others who’re getting it more than I am these days
There's this new couple on the cul-de-sac du Broad, an interracial couple who can't keep their, ahem, "lovemaking" quiet. At all. All times of the day and night, you can hear them going at it throughout the 'hood, and when one can't find the other, there's wailing. Oh, the wailing. Day and night, there's screaming and wailing, screaming and wailing so loud you can hear it with the windows closed. It gets so loud sometimes, the boys rush to the window to see what's going on.
Stupid feral cats in heat.
Stupid feral cats in heat.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Just like Ol’ King Cole, but not really
| You Are a Peacemaker Soul |
 War or conflict bothers you, and you would do anything to keep the peace. You are a good mediator and a true negotiator. Sometimes you do too much, trying so hard to make people happy. While you keep the peace, you tend to be secretly judgmental. You lose respect for people who don't like to both give and take. On the flip side, you've got a great sense of humor and wit. You're always diplomatic and able to give good advice. Souls you are most compatible with: Warrior Soul, Hunter Soul and Visionary Soul |
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Awwwwwww, what’s the matter, Mike!??
Don't like it when I turn on the function that allows me to approve comments before they're posted!?? Because I notice you've STOPPED SPAMMING MY COMMENTS. Fucker.
It is the job of a good person to be honest. To be self-aware. To deliberately explore the fault lines of your character and try desperately to not inflict suffering in this strange, ghost-ridden world of worked and fabricated objects. Sometimes the jobs of writer and good person coincide. But more often they don’t. There are way more writers in the world than there are good people.
100 things
Info meme #1
Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.
Give it to me, baby.
Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...
The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:
100 things
Info meme #1
Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.
Give it to me, baby.
Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...
The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:
/> Wanna make a bunch of money doing what you're doing right now?
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Broad said: Like I said, my feelings are complicated on the matter, so ... I’m interested, however, in Her Highness’ thoughts on… ...[go].
Caterina said: ARGH!!! Not to deny you your goddess-given right of reflections and wishing what might-have-beens, but this guy was straight up… ...[go].
Wholovesya? said: By the by, guess who was most nasty about the charitable giving? The frigging church. My church and my mom’s… ...[go].
Wholovesya? said: By the by, I’m not the only one I know. I have friends who work at soup kitchens because they’re… ...[go].
Wholovesya? said: As you know, I was a voyeur to the beginning of this, and I was loving your comment! I have… ...[go].
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EE Core
script assistance by
scriptygoddess
hosted by
wiredhub
This explains that large bit of type at the top.
Tagline by Ben F'in Mollin, talking about those times you wake up still drunk from the night before.
<< chicago blogs >>
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
online