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March 31, 2002

things i just don't get

things i just don't get:

algebra
women who wear high heels with sweat pants
the man in Nathan's who dyed his combover platinum blonde
the appeal of country music
Larry King
Carrot Top
people who try to get on an elevator before everyone has gotten off
basic chemistry
baking
pooping animal keychains
Dick Vitale
Adam Sandler movies
Dr. Phil
fishsticks
people with bad hygiene
why some days I can think of a million things to write and some days I have nothing but filler.

stuff 3.31

stuff 3.31

Happy Easter to those who celebrate.

The Gospel According to Jim. While I am no longer of the Catholic faith, I still am very much fascinated by the story of Jesus.

And even though I don't celebrate Easter in its religious sense, I still like Easter goodies. Anathea sent me a package containing homemade Chocolate Jesii! 4 different flavors of chocolate deity in a cute little basket. Thank you, they are wonderful!

Normally, this time of year fills me with hope and a sense of renewal. But lately, I am just feeling a sense of dread. What I don't understand is our own country's reaction to Israel's reaction. When terrorists come into our country and kill our people, our leaders go after the person responsible and want him captured dead or alive. When Israel does the same, they are expected to back down? Isn't Israel going after Arafat equal to us going after bin Laden? And if I am wrong, please enlighten me. And I'm not saying they should kill Arafat, because that would just be a disaster in the making, no? There really is no good ending here. There is no solution. Just this overwhelming sense of dread hanging in the air.

I happened to catch part of John Edward's Crossing Over the other day (for entertainment value only) and who was on but Topanga from Boy Meets World. She looks umm...bloated. I think her lips need their own zip code.

And the famous are just dropping like flies.

March 30, 2002

our dinner with the manly-men

our dinner with the manly-men

Justin and I went out to dinner last night, to our favorite restaurant. Normally we go there on Saturday afternoons and sit in leisure and talk over our steak chili. But this being one of those incredibly rare Saturdays when I have my children, we went out last night instead.

We sat in smoking, because Justin still smokes and because it's less wait for a table on a Friday night. Oh yes, Friday night. The smoking section is in the bar. It is elevated up from the bar floor, but it's still right there, in the room full of happy hour drinkers - mostly middle aged men with beer bellies and older women with too much make up.

We think twice about coming to a bar/restaurant on a Friday night of a holiday weekend and sitting in the bar, but we are starving, so we stay. I order the steak salad, he orders the chili. The waitress moves in slow motion. The bar fills with cigar smoke. Our conversation is dead because my hoarse, almost gone voice cannot make itself heard over the cackling of the two hair-sprayed women sitting three feet from us in the bar.

After what seems like forever, our food arrives. Drinks? What happened to the drinks? The waitress looks dumbfounded. Maybe just dumb. She makes her way through the ever-growing crowd of paunchy men to get us our drinks. I guess she forgot to take the map with her, because she obviously got lost. How else could you explain taking over ten minutes to get an iced tea? Oh, there she is. She's at the bar. Smiling at the paunchy men. I try to use the force to get her to move from the bar to our table, but no. She is mesmerized by something on the television now. Rocket Power. My waitress is making me die of thirst so she can watch Nickelodeon.

Finally, she tears herself away from her cartoons long enough to remember our drinks. By now we are halfway done with our dinner. We commit ourselves to enjoying the rest of our meal.

Now, picture how this is set up. We are on an elevated platform. There is about 1 foot of space between the table and the short divider wall that separates us from the bar. That space is used for the diners to walk through and for the waitstaff to tend to the tables. The wall and platform are not high. You could conceivably stand there if say, the bar floor is too crowded but you still wanted to talk to your friends. You would just come around up to the platform, park your beer on the divider, and hang over it and talk to your buddies. The only problem is.....

"Excuse me, but I'd rather not have your ass in my face while I am eating."

There's a big marine-type man and his equally macho friend standing in our one foot space, leaning over the divider to talk to the two cackling women. They are leaning in such a way that I can see the lines of their tighty whities through their Dockers. They are making small talk with the women, a conversation I can hear every bit of because these macho men talk in booming voices. It's one of those converstations that center around being a manly-man. On the tv above the bar, CNN or one of those news stations is showing a press conference about the church sexual abuse scandal. The manly-men and cackly women talk about it. I hear the word faggot one time too many. The women laugh. The manly-men make snide remarks about fags.

"Excuse me, I'd rather not have your ugly ass in my face while I'm eating."

Of course he doesn't hear me. I can barely talk above a whisper. I tap him on the back of his college football sweatshirt. He turns, disturbed that someone touched him.

"Do you think you can move somewhere else? Your ass is in my face. I am eating."

He hears me. He snickers. He turns around and continues his tale about how he once beat up a fag for standing too close to him.

We ask our waitress for the check. Now, we tell her. Not a half hour from now. Now. We want out. She throws the check on the table and we leave enough to cover the bill and a 10% tip because I am generally not a bad tipper, but when you choose to watch a kiddie cartoon rather than bring me my drink, you suck.

We stand up to try to make our way through the one foot space, down the platform and out the door. The manly-men don't move.

"Excuse me," Justin says a bit too politely. They don't move their big asses.
"Excuse me," He says again, a bit more edge to his voice. They don't move.

I barge past the one standing closest to me, nearly causing him to spill his drink while I brush against him. I mutter something I know he can't hear under my breath.

Justin is right behind me. Instead of brushing past the man closest to him, he turns sideways so he is facing the man's back. There is barely any room for both of them, and Justin has to squeeze by him to get by. Justin stops for a second, presses his crotch against the manly-man's backside and says, loud enough for the other manly-man to hear, "Nice ass, buddy. Thanks for the view." And then licks his lips and winks at the guy.

We get down the platform and turn back to see the manly-man staring at Justin, a look of disgust on his face. Good thing he was too stunned to come after us.

stuff 3.30

stuff 3.30

I dreamed last night of an enermouse game of hide-and-seek, where we were able to run the world over. It's posted here, because that is where my dreams go.

So we went to Best Buy last night and picked up Titus on DVD because I knew I would need to watch it several times. We also bought Donnie Darko, and watched it twice before the night was over. Strange, bizzare, surreal and fucked up. But a hell of a ride. One of those movies that leaves you scratching your head and wanting more. We watched it the second time with commentary, and while the story made a bit more sense after that, the parts that brought it all together were not things you would be able to surmise without the help of the commentary. And Ian must be following the same movie-watching path as us, because we watched Following the other night also.

Don't you love irony? A school seminar on tolerance was cancelled because some parents protested the attendance of gay and lesbian speakers. No commentary necessary.

When good bloggers go bad.

Today's aortal pick: coffee sites.

And I'm over at bad sam today, too.

March 29, 2002

It's not Lawn Guyland, it's Long Island

It's not Lawn Guyland, it's Long Island

When most of the new people that come into your life are met over an internet connection, it’s a good bet that most of those people will be from somewhere you are not. And it’s a good bet that they will have pre-conceived notions about the place you come from. I try not to be guilty of that. I’m not going to assume you spend your day farming potatoes if you are from Idaho. I am not going to assume you are a redneck if you are from Alabama. I won’t automatically think you a vampire if you are from Austria (I once heard that all vampires were from Austria).

So when I say I am from Long Island, please don’t assume the worst about me. I know you’ve heard the stereotypes. I’ve heard the jokes. I’ve heard the assumptions. Let’s take some time to dispel them, shall we?

Long Island is not a series of strip malls and highways. There are farms and museums and aquariums. Amusement parks, glorious beaches, tourist attractions and sports teams. There’s an enormous park that once hosted the Goodwill games.

Long Island is not a series of small, cliquey communities where the girls all have big hair and Gucci bags. Take my town for instance. After 39 years here, I still don’t know all the street names. We have five elementary schools. 2 high schools. Population: 51,000. No, I don’t know everyone by name. Never will. As for the girls with the big hair and designer bags, yes they do exist. But not in great numbers. We are not all daddy’s little girl driving around in a paid for BMW with a bumper sticker that says yield to the princess. We are not all spoiled, whiny brats who spend our days in malls harassing sales clerks.

The accent? Don’t have it. I don’t say mawl instead of mall or cawfee instead of coffee. I don’t sound like Fran Drescher. No one I know talks like that. If they did, I would smack them daily.

Maybe if I got all my knowledge of the culture of other cities and states and countries from sitcoms and entertainment news, I would be just as ignorant of the real people behind the doors. I would assume that Canadians say nothing but eh and aboot. I would assume that Irish people do nothing but drink and all Scottish people wear kilts. California girls are all dumb and blonde and weigh 98 lbs in soaking wet bikinis. Boys from New Jersey all have mullets and listen to Bon Jovi.

See how ridiculous that is? You would get mad, or at least insulted if I made a generalization about you based upon the place you are from, so why do it to me? I mean, why make only the bad generalizations? Did you know that 88 semifinalists of out of 300 for the Westinghouse Science Competition were from Long Island this year? Go ahead and assume I’m smart and talented in the sciences. Think I’d be flattered? Guess again. It’s still an assumption based on my place of birth. I’m not saying it’s in line with other, more insulting forms of blatant stereotyping, but it still annoys me. It still pisses me off that people think I am a rich, spoiled daddy’s girl who can do nothing but shop and talk funny, just because of where I live.

Long Island, like any other place on the map, is a mixture of everything good and bad. It is a place of very poor families, of shelters for battered women and drunk drivers. It is a place with high crime areas and jails full of child abusers and rapists. It is a place where the trees keep disappearing in favor of roadways and Walmarts. It is a place where people are rude and in a hurry and don’t know how to be civil to one another.

But it is also a place of culture and riches. It has vineyards and mansions. It has towns I can’t enter without previous written permission. It has a shoreline that graces you with the most beautiful sunsets during the summer.

For all its vastness and differences, and despite its prevalence of concrete and Home Depots on every corner, I love it here. I am not defending my choice to live here. I am defending my right to be viewed as something other than a caricature or a combination of behaviors you have seen on television.

stuff 3.29

stuff 3.29

What I did on my day off:

Spent two hours in an arcade playing Galaga while my kids attempted to play Dance Dance Revolution. Watched a father and small child bond over killing zombies in House of Dead. It was really heartwarming to see the dad pat the little boy on the head and say things like Nice kill, son! and You really know how to make those brains splatter. That's my boy!

Watched Titus. Have you ever seen Titus? I am completely obsessed with this movie now. Long, bizzare, surreal, sometimes hard to follow, but an incredible piece of film making. I think I'll watch it again today.

Lost my voice. This may be amusing to Justin and my children, but it is frustrating and annoying to me. I knew it was going to happen. I tried to hit the high note in a Radiohead song yesterday and nothing came out. Not even an off-key squeal, which is what I was expecting. Hours later, the voice was pretty much gone. I can manage a few hoarse words here and there. Answering the phones at work will be so much fun today.

Saw Blade II. I love movies that have that one scene where you want to stand up in the middle of the movie theater, point at the screen and yell Take that, motherfucker! Yeeeehaaa! Very little dialogue. Very little resemblance to the first Blade. A whole lot of fun. Action, action everywhere. Completely enjoyable movie going experience.

For the record, I had nothing to do with this. Which reminds me, do you dunk?

I give Easter gifts to my sisters and my mother looks absolutely enraged. Huh, you say? That line courtesy of the website mangler, which comes courtesy of Mr. Blorg.

And this morning, I dreamed of an earthquake in Vermont that reached a 7.5 on the Richter scale. This happened while we were acting out Archie comic books. I was Jughead. Don't laugh, you were the dog.

My usual after-stuff post won't be up until later in the morning. I'm going to try to actually get to work on time today.

Coffee, Paxil and Robitussin. The breakfast of champions.

March 28, 2002

clowning around

clowning around

ICP and Marilyn Manson on Bill O'Reilly tonight. This should be fun.

Working on a long rant about the entertainment industry and parental responsibility. Beating a dead horse, yes. But I like beating this dead horse. More later.

sudden impact

sudden impact

I dreamed last night about high school, as I do often, and it left me wondering. What happened to the people I went to school with? Not just high school, but grammar school and nursery school. All those people who passed through my life, the students, the teachers, the lunch ladies, the secretaries. People I saw every day for years and years, people who in some way impacted my life, whether it was by teaching me how to add, giving me a free pretzel when I lost my lunch money or tying the sash of my prissy dress to the back of the chair so when I stood up the chair came with me. Good, bad, indifferent. So many people have passed through my life, for minutes or hours or years, and they come and go and sometimes never come back. Only in occasional dreams that make the past float in your mind like waves.

I think about C., who was my best friend in high school. I got my period at her house during a party. She, in turn, conceived her daughter on my parent's bed while my parents were in Hawaii. The daughter of this 18 year old girl became my goddaughter, and I haven't seen her since she was nine, and haven't talked to her mother since weeks before my wedding in 1989, when C. for some reason stopped returning my calls. Somewhere out there is a 24 year old woman who is my goddaughter.

I think about R., who was the only boy who would talk to me in grade school. He talked like I was his friend, about the weather and cartoons and whatever ten year olds talk about. I lost touch with R. when we went to separate high schools, but I know what happened to him. He killed himself in 1981, after his girlfriend of five years dumped him. I wonder where she is now, the girlfriend, and if she carries that around with her like an unopened package.

I think about all the teachers I had. Mrs. Reich, who was the best 3rd grade teacher ever, who let us have snacks in the classroom before it was standard to do so, who had a tv in the class so we could watch educational programs, who was always gentle and kind and had chubby, small fingers with liver spots on them. She died when I was in high school. Mrs. Letterman, my first grade teacher who was the tallest woman I had ever seen and Mr. Goldberg, my 6th grade teacher, who was best friends with Bud Harrelson and brought him into the classroom once. I still have the autographed picture.

I remember the names of every person who tortured me and made fun of me. I remember their faces and the clothes they wore. I remember every teacher who was mean to me, every insult hurled my way. But I also remember the kids who tried to be nice, Barbara and Susan, who invited me to their homes for parties even when no one else wanted me there. Mrs. M, my 4th grade teacher, who made sure I was seated far away from my tormenters, who walked me home once and who told me I was the best student she ever had.

I think about all those faces in high school; the kids who never got past the drug stage, who took it with them after graduation and made it part of their everyday lives. I think about the teachers who ran us through our lessons as if racing from one period to the next, and the teachers who took their time with us and really taught us something. I think about the kids who had too much money to throw around and thought that would get them everywhere they needed to go, and the kids who threw only footballs or basketballs and thought that would get them through life.

I think about all the students I've ever spent time with in a classroom. Every kid, from nusery school through senior year and I wonder how many of them became what threy set out to be. How many of them are in the jobs they envisioned for themselves, how many of them turned out to be the person they wanted to be? I wonder if any of them think about the impact they had on other people, how their words or actions or acts of kindness left an indelible imprint on someone's life.

I wonder if any of them remember me, if I've ever done anything to leave an impression on someone, so that 20, 30 years later they still see my face in their mind. If they wonder, like I do, what became of that little girl in the pinafore dress.

stuff 3.27

stuff 3.27

My cable bill is astronomical. It's by choice that it's so high. I subsrcribe to the premium package, plus the premium sports package and digital cable. Add to that my cable internet connection fee and my bill looks like the national debt. One of the reasons I get the sports package is so we can watch the Yankees on the MSG Network. Now, the Yankees have formed the YES Network and will be showing 130 Yankee games on that station. It was their intention that Cablevision should include the YES Network as part of basic cable. But no, Cablevision wants to add it as a pay channel. Meaning we would only get 30 or so Yankee games on tv unless we wanted to add even more onto our monthly cable bill. There are negotiations going on between Cablevision and the YES Network. Opening day is Monday. Cablevision once again has us by the balls. This isn't the first time they've tried to fuck the fans over. It won't be the last. And they are the only cable company on the block. The sad thing is, if they end up winning and putting the YES Network on as a pay channel, I will probably subscribe to it.

About two weeks ago, I wrote something about careless driving and driving under the influence. Eventually, things like that hit home. This volunteer firehouse lost two members (brothers) on September 11th, and now they have suffered another loss because of one person's selfishness and ignorance. The man who died was a good friend of my brother-in-law, who is a member of that firehouse. Tragedy doesn't come in only large numbers. It comes to many people, every day and goes mostly unnoticed by the rest of the world.

And, rounding out my trip through the local paper, Natalie's school is listed as one of those that fall below state standards in 8th grade math. Which does not bode well for us, as math is her main downfall. I also found out the students are tracked and labeled starting in 7th grade. So next year Natalie can look forward to being labeled as "Regents with support" while most of her friends go to honors and I can pretty much see where this is headed. Why can't they do it without the labeling? If I had to do it all over again, I would homeschool.

Things to look at: Melly and Sarah both have redesigned. As did bad sam, and I think I shall be posting there today.

Today's aortal pick: collective arts.

Post of the day. Steve's feelings about the church sex abuse scandal mirror my own. Then read Michael's excellent post on the subject.

I need coffee.

March 27, 2002

bring it on home

QOD

bring it on home

Again. I am sick again. This has been the cruelest winter, ever. And don't tell me it's not winter anymore, I won't believe you. I still have the heat on. That means winter.

We get notices home from school when there is a communicable disease going around. I flip through the kids' folders and see notices for bowling, cookie sales, field trips, strep throat, standardized tests, mono, head lice. Yes, always the head lice. We have never suffered that, thankfully. So this winter has been a constant deluge of flyers warning about weird rashes and red throats and pocky skin and the nasty stomach virus that wouldn't die. Oh, and that fever thing that was going around. Just a fever, nothing else.

So of course, my kids have brought home everything. They can't be like other kids and just bring home artwork and leftover yogurt that makes their lunchbox smell like a slaughterhouse. No, they bring home the diseases. Every one of them. The thing is, they get these things for a day or two, and they're over it. Just like that. Neither of them have missed more than one day at a time. What's that old saying? Children are resilient. Yes. They bounce back from everything. Maybe all those fortified vitamins and real fruit juice concentrate found in Nickelodeon gummy snacks have built up their immune system. Lord knows that my daily dose of vitamins and folic acid and real, honest to goodness fruit hasn't done anything for me.

The kids stay home one day, recover nicely and skip off to school and activities the next day. And I'm home, lying on the couch and begging for one more dose of NyQuil. Sometimes the kids don't even get the disease first. We just get the notice and next thing you know, I've come down with whatever is going around the school. Either the notices have been sprayed with the spittle of the kid who started the illness going in the first place, or my kids are just carriers.

I tried to sleep last night between the coughing and the sniffing and burning in my throat. I took more NyQuil than is humanly digestible and it must have acted as some sort of hallucinagenic after the third dose, because I dreamed of a webloggers convention where everyone took the form of movie monster. You think it would be a scary dream, right? Nope, because I was Ash from Evil Dead and I took you all on and won. And after I massacred the whole lot of you evil creatures, I sat in the hotel lobby and ate butter and jelly on crackers. And when I sipped my tea from a dainty, flowered cup, I held my pinky out like a sophisticate, while your monstrous bodies lay at my feet. The stench of death was in the air and when I drank my tea it tasted of victory and blood.

I woke up with a NyQuil hangover and a post-nasal drip that was making me gag. For once, I am going to stay home from work without a sick kid to take care of. I am going to sit on the couch all day and read and watch bad daytime tv and nod off every once in a while to dream about conquering the webloggers from hell.

March 26, 2002

summer of 12

New QOD ---->

summer of 12

12 then and 12 now are worlds apart.

12 then was blissful ignorance.

12 now is the weight of the world.

When I was 12 my summer days were spent barefoot in my backyard, alternating between the pool and the sprinkler and the blanket on the lawn. I left the backyard only when I heard the tinny ringing of the ice-cream truck. I would run out to the street, hopping like mad from one foot to the other in an effort to not feel the full scorch of the burning blacktop. Al the ice-cream man would hurry us along in a heavy accent. Sometimes we understood him and sometimes we didn't. And sometimes Al was in a talktative mood and he would show us the numbers tattooed on his arm. We would shrug, not really knowing what the story was. We couldn't understand his accent, and even if we did, it seemed like too heavy a story to carry with our melting cones.

Today, 12 means you have read at least three historical fiction stories about the Holocaust. 12 means you would know what the numbers on Al's arm were.

When I was 12 my summer nights were spent in the street, playing kickball with my cousins. Sometimes we played kick-the-can and we would run through the neighbors yards, hiding in their shrubbery and under their porches. We played until we were too tired to run, and then we would walk down to the candy store to buy soda and snacks.

Today, 12 means you can't play in the street because there are too many cars. 12 means your neighbor's lawn is off limits because it was just sprayed with some chemical to make their grass grow greener. 12 means you can't walk to the store at night, because there are too many strangers.

When I was 12 we went to the beach and for family drives and spent leisurely days at the park. We woke up late and watched morning tv in our pajamas until we were shooed outside. Our days were long and unstructured and lazy.

Today's 12 means summer camp or summer school and getting up with the birds. It is structure and bus rides just like the rest of the year. Family drives and trips to the beach are scheduled events. Time is managed. Soccer, baseball, dance, enrichment programs, swim lessons.

When I was 12 I wasn't afraid of the world. Current events in school meant local news, fluff stories, a few science-related pieces. Health lessons centered around hygiene and grooming. Drug education was non-existent. Learning about the environment meant paying attention to don't litter signs.

Today's 12 is frightening. Current events are happening in their own backyard. War and terrorism are part of the daily venacular. Health lessons include segments on AIDS and condoms and learning how to say no. Drug education is imperative. Today's 6th graders know about ozone layers and recycling and toxins in the water.

Today's 12 is better educated than I was. They are more informed. They are better prepared. But they are not the 12 of carefree childhood and innocence. They are somehow older, wiser and a bit more cynical than I ever knew at 12.

Perhaps today's 12 is more prepared to deal with the world than the 12 year olds of my day were. But I still have to lament that their childhood is almost over at an age when it should be in its prime.

stuff 3.26

stuff 3.26

New QOD: to dunk or not to dunk.

Remember when I said I would never volunteer for anything again? Remember when I said you should smack me upside the head if I do? Ok, smack me. Now.

I don't know what happened. I took Natalie to the opening girl's PAL basketball clinic last night, and ten minutes into the thing, I'm signing a paper that says I will coach her team. And there I am, in platforms and a too-short shirt, running drills with the girls. And I'm pretty much clueless about this. So, if anyone would like to give me a crash course in girls basketball, please...help. The last thing I need is to give a 12 year old girl further cause to be embarassed by her mother. I mean, at this age I am an embarassment for just existing.

Please check out my aortal pick for this week, What Was I Thinking. Because you don't have to be a rocket scientist to blog, but sometimes you are.

Please welcome rubber nun to the sidebar.

I didn't really watch all of the Oscars. Honestly, I've seen more Razzie winners than Oscar winners. But my observation just from seeing the pictures: Can these people not afford grooming accessories?

It's called a hairbrush, people. Look into it.

March 25, 2002

special moments from my family album

special moments from my family album

scene: Palm Sunday, parent's living room, whole family present.

Baseball season has not yet begun and the in-fighting between the Yankee and Met fans in my family has already gotten down and dirty.

Dad is a Met fan. Mom is a Yankee fan. Dad has been goading mom all day, making cutting remarks here and there about the Yankees. They trade Gooden and Strawberry jokes, good naturedly ribbing each other about past team transgressions.

After dinner we sit in the living room and the jokes continue. Dad mentions something about the Yankee lockeroom incident. I don't remember exactly what it was, but mom ends up having to defend the integrity of the entire Yankee team. Shouting ensues.

"You're always defending them, no matter what they do!"
"I am NOT!"
"You're a whore! You're a Yankee whore!"
"Did you just call me a whore?"
"Yes! You might as well be giving blow jobs to Roger Clemens!"
Silence. Everyone stares at my father. We stifle giggles while my mother looks absolutely enraged.
"You have the nerve to say that in front of our children?"
Dad looks sheepishly at my mom.
"I'm sorry."
"Ok"
"I meant to say Derek Jeter."
We roll on the floor laughing while my mom chases dad around the living room with the fireplace poker.

Just another Kodak moment.

the war against SUVs

the war against SUVs

A flyer was left on the windshield of my car yesterday while I was in the supermarket. It said, in part: Thank you for ruining the environment. Your gas-guzzling SUV is destroying our air. It went on for a few more sentences, in big bold font, basically implying that I should be shot on site.

I looked around the parking lot and spotted three teenage boys darting in and out of the cars with stacks of the green flyers in their hands. They were pinning them under the windshield of every SUV they could find which, admittedly, is an awful lot in any Long Island parking lot.

I know I am looked upon with scorn by many people. I've read the editorials. I've heard the debates. SUVs and their owners are the enemy to many people. And you know what? I don't care.

Before I owned my Ford Explorer, I owned a Cadillac. I get much better gas mileage with the SUV then I ever did with that boat on wheels. I don't see environment-minded activists slapping bumper stickers on Cadillacs. There's more to this than gas mileage. I have had people complain to me that I bought the Explorer as some kind of suburban status symbol. Right. A 97 model of a car does not a status symbol make.

I chose an SUV for many reasons. It makes it easier to lug around baseball equipment and skates and helmets and bicycles and the neighbor's kids. I can grocery shop without crushing half of my cereal boxes in the trunk of a car. And who do you call when you need to pick up furniture from Ikea or your sister needs help moving? That's right. Call the person with the roomy SUV. We're good enough for that, right?

I chose an SUV for self preservation also. I see how you people drive. You weave in and out of lanes in your little Toyotas or Hondas, never using your turn signals. You creep up my ass when I'm slowing down in a school zone and you blow by me on the wrong side of the road if I dare make a full stop at a stop sign. You fly by intersections without yielding and come around corners without looking first.

I'm not afraid of you anymore. Not like when I had my Caddy or Mustang and I would cower in fear at you speed demons and rule breakers. Nope. I'm bigger than you. You come around that corner by my house without looking one day and I'm in your way, you're the one who is going to end up packed like a sardine in a crushed tin box. The way you drive your little economy car is one of the reasons I bought the SUV you hate so much. And let's face it. I'm not even the biggest fish in the pond anymore. Why waste time on my little Explorer when there are Excursions and Navigators who make my truck look like a matchbox car?

So I'm still sitting in my car, watching these kids play hunt the SUV, and one of them runs past me. I yell "hey!" out the window and the kid stops in his tracks. He looks at me defiantly, Marlboro dangling out of his mouth, as I hold up the flyer he left in my windshield earlier. I look him in the eye.

"Do you realize how many acres of rainforest had to be destroyed so you can make these flyers? And put that cigarette out. You're polluting my air."

I left him standing there with a blank look on his face as I pulled away in my SUV, a week's worth of groceries and various sports equipment all fit snugly in the back.

March 24, 2002

time of the season

time of the season

Spring has sprung, as they say. Never mind that I was freezing my ass off yesterday or that I still have the heat on in the house. It's spring, damn it. Easter is next week and that means little kids in cute dresses and bonnets, not down jackets and knit caps.

Ok, no bonnets. When was the last time you saw a kid in an Easter bonnet? You're lucky if you can get kids into a simple pair of dress pants or a nice sweater these days. Well at least my kids. Dress-up means wearing jeans instead of sweats. The Ranger jersey instead of the Bruins jersey.

So anyhow, it's spring and Easter break is here and this is a week of preparation and symbolism. Atheist as I may be, my family is not and I conform to their holiday rituals if not for my kids, then at least for the food.

We do Passover as well, because my brother-in-law is Jewish and his family is out of state. It's basically just for the ritual of it. I think he learned all he knows about this holiday from Rugrats Passover. It's all about the ritual.

We go through the decorating of the Easter eggs and the hiding of the Easter eggs and the realization a week later that the smell coming from under the radiator is the egg that got away. We have dispensed with the idea of the Easter bunny and the kids get baskets filled with things like baseball cards and colored, sparkly lip gloss. That's for Natalie, not DJ. Though you never know.

I make Easter bread because I made it one year out of boredom and I got stuck doing it every year since. It's messy, it takes a long time and I really hate baking, but the end result is pretty damn satisfying. I end up eating way too much of the uncooked dough and I get a stomach ache every year. Symbolism: Easter makes me sick.

I give Easter gifts to my sisters and my mother and aunts. I buy small clay pots and fill them with packets of seeds and small gardening tools. I may not be part of the real ritual and meaning of Easter in the catholic tradition, but I can still find symbolism in the holiday. Easter, to me, is a celebration of spring and renewal and growth. Hence the seeds and planters.

And while Easter is sort of the beginning of things, it also marks a halfway point in the year for me. School is winding down. Summer is coming. Time to think about summer camp and summer vacations and wondering where the hell another school year went. It seems like I spend the entire year lamenting the months that just passed and dreading the months ahead. There's always one more obstacle ahead of you, but then again there's always one more obstacle left behind.

So even though it's only about 30 degrees out, I'll head over to the local greenhouse today and look over the flats of flowers they have out, pick out a few and bring them home with the full realization that I will probably kill them before they really have the chance to flourish. I have a black thumb. I can't even keep fake plants healthy. The flats will sit out on my porch until about 3 weeks from now, when I find the time to plant them. But again, it's the act of buying the flowers and making the attempt. Turning over the earth, digging down and putting new life into it. And finding underneath the bush, that last, now-rotted Easter egg that we forgot about.

March 23, 2002

little white lies

little white lies

Standing on line in 7-11, I overheard a converstation between a mother and her young son. The son was relating a story about a friend's friend who found half a bug in his ham sandwich. The boy was worried that his friend's friend would die of some dreaded bug-induced disease. The mother remarked that everyone eats bugs now and then, we just don't know it. In fact, she said, studies show that the average person eats about 18 bugs during their lifetime.

I had heard a similar statistic pronounced by my own mother, back when Natalie was caught eating a grasshopper. It occurred to me that there was never really a study done on such a thing. It's just one of those things that people say to make you feel better. See also:

It's good luck for it to rain on your wedding day.
Good things come in small packages.
Einstein failed math, too.
At least you have your health.
Sperm is filled with protein.

I didn't forget....

I didn't forget....

Happy Birthday to Chris, one of my all time favorite bloggers and friends.

Here's wishing you a year of successful novel writing, good music, and sexy, smart gay men banging down your door.

You can pick your present up on May 2.

basiliskitis and truancy

basiliskitis and truancy

I let DJ stay home from school yesterday. No strep throat or stomach virus or anything like that. Nope, he had come down with something called basiliskitis.

basiliskitis: Dreaded disease caused by an incomplete report on the basilisk lizard; symptoms include tears, pleading and eventual angst-induced stomach ache.

The thing is, he had all week to do it. But he was also assigned a Rainforest report the same week, which entailed doing part of the project every night. This also came the same week Natalie had two huge projects due, plus other homework that they both had. This left very little time to get all projects completed.

DJ worked until late Thursday night (well, late for a 9 year old), making a cover for his report, rewording the report three or four times, making the cover over again...it's tough being a perfectionist. I left him alone to help Natalie finish her science lab and when I went back in his room, he was sound asleep on the floor, surrounded by crumbled papers and a not nearly finished report. I put him in bed and figured I would wake him up early to get the paper done before school.

This was incredibly optimistic on my part. Most of the morning was spent with him crying that the report wasn't good enough, the cover looked bad, the rainforest project still wasn't done. Meanwhile, Natalie was in a panic over her hair, her clothes, etc., and I was trying to calm her down the same time I was trying to convince DJ that he could get his paper done before it was time to leave. This is all at 6:30 in the morning. Justin gets up and tries to help DJ with his paper, but it's too late. The breakdown has commenced. The crying and pleading has started. After fifteen minutes of this, I relent. I call work, tell them DJ is sick and I'm staying home, and send him to his room to work on his report for the day.

So, the question remains, did I do the right thing? After reviewing the situation, I am left with the following answers. Please choose one.

a) You are a rotten mother who has taught her child how to shirk responsibility.
b) You are a rotten mother who has shirked her own responsibility of making sure her children complete their school work on time.
c) You are a sucker who has let her child completely manipulate her.
c) You are a shrewd mother, who will later use this as a bargaining chip (remember that time I let you stay home....).
d) You have passed your procrastinating skills on to your children and your sense of guilt overpowered your desire to send him to school without the complete report.
e) I am calling the truancy officers on you.
f) I don't care. Where's the penis and farting stories I came here for?

March 22, 2002

sucky summer jobs: #22 in a series

sucky summer jobs: #22 in a series

I tired of my job at the deli and wanted to move on to something more challenging. I needed to do something more worthwhile than slicing salami as a way to pay for my nighclubbing and drinking. Something that wouldn't leave me smelling like head cheese at the end of the day.

A friend of a friend of a cousin told me about this place that was hiring. It sounded an awful lot like a telemarketer job, which I would never do, but it was for a charity, and therefore didn't count as telemarketing. Right?

The first day of the training seminar proved that point. Our team leader stood up in front of us and told us we were not to call ourselves telemarketers. We were activists. We were paving the way for change. We were catalysts in the fight against drunk driving. We were the few, the proud, the people begging for money for a cause. I left the seminar feeling like I was doing something useful with my life. My naive ideals were soaring.

The second day, the altruism took a back seat to the sales pitch. Sales? I thought we were activists! Our team leader spoke in basketball metaphors for two hours; driving to the basket, blocking the shots, finally hitting the three-pointer with just seconds to go. When I left the seminar, I felt less like an activist and more like Dr. J.

The third and final day should have clued me in on what I was in for. Our fearless leader drilled us on the fine points of clinching the donation. Cite statistics. Make them feel bad. Tell them stories. She then handed out photocopied news clippings of horrid, tragic car accidents resulting from drunk driving. We were to tell our potential donors some of these stories if all else failed. If we had them in tears by the end of the call, we would be the superstars of the office. My stinging conscience was kicking my naive ideals in the head.

I figured I would give it two days tops. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe, because this was a worthy cause and one people were very concerned about, I wouldn't have to make the hard sell. Sure! People would just give willingly! I would never have to utter a harsh word or tell a tragic story or make anyone cry. This would be a piece of cake, and my conscience would be left intact.

I was directed to a tiny room in the basement, where the walls were lined with little wooden cubicles. I was directed to my very own cubicle. On the desk was a phone and a kitchen timer. The wall I faced was lined with the same newspaper clippings that were passed out at the seminar. Those people in those stories, I was told, they are counting on you. They are watching you. I was told to set the timer at the beginning of each call, and that I was to keep each caller on the line for a minimum of one minute of soft selling. After one minute, I should start the hard sell. I was given a list of 100 numbers to start out with.

I noticed that the neighborhood I was given was a wealthy one. This made me feel a little better. At least these people had money to spare. Maybe I wouldn't have to reduce anyone to tears.

After a half hour, I didn't have any donations. Apparently, all the people on my list had housekeepers. And none of them spoke English. At least not to telemarketers. The team leader came over and looked at my tally sheet. She was not pleased. I explained the situation. I can't reach anyone who speaks English, I told her. And even if they did speak English, they would say that they are just the housekeepers, that I should call back.

"They're lying to you," she said.
"The housekeepers are lying?"
"They're not really the housekeepers, you idiot!" Her breath stunk like garlic pickles. I tried to move my head back from hers, but she leaned in on me until our foreheads were touching.
"Are you going to believe every inconsiderate person who comes on the line and tells you a reason why they can't give? Are you a sucker? Are you that naive? Let them know you know they're lying.! These people depend on you!"She pointed to the tragic news stories on the wall.
"But...but...."
"No buts. Tell them. Tell them if they don't give money, they will feel horrible next time something like this appears on the evening news. They will understand that. They will understand guilt. And trust me, they understand English."

I weighed my options. What was this job going to pay me anyhow? If I couldn't make a sale I would be bringing home less than minimum wage. It would barely pay for one night's admission to the club. I could go back to the deli. It wasn't so bad. The people were nice. I didn't have to make anyone cry in order to sell a pound of liverwurst.

I stood up and faced my leader. I told her I was done. This wasn't the job for me. Told her I'd rather smell like head cheese than spend another day with her poking and prodding my conscience. She didn't get the part about the head cheese. She probably didn't get the part about having a conscience, either.

12/10/02: To Instapundit readers: The comments on this archived post do not work. If you would like to comment, do it here. Thanks.

March 21, 2002

skeletons in my closet

skeletons in my closet

I wanted to do a bit of spring cleaning yesterday, so I thought I would start with the closet. But damn, I forgot those skeletons were in there. What the hell....it's time to drag out all those skeletons and dirty little secrets that have been hidden under the pile of old clothes for so long. It's a big huge confessional here today.

1. I was a teenage Dead Head.
That's right. I wore flowery shirts and tie-dye pants and spent hours in a smoky arena swaying to never-ending jams and feeling the love. I was a wanna-be hippie and needed nothing more in life than great ideals and a nickel bag of pot.

2. I was a complete geek in grade school.
I wore dresses that looked like this. In 5th grade even. I wanted to be a hall monitor. I took the bus to the library every Saturday for the special reading programs. I was the teacher's pet and proud of it.

3. I am a registered Republican.
Was that the sound of 100 people dropping to the floor in a faint? Relax, it's only for political-connections and employment purposes. I've never, in all the years I have been eligible, voted for a Republican president. As a matter of fact....

4. I voted for Ross Perot.
Oh, and in 1980, my first time voting for president, I voted for John Anderson.

5. I love musicals.
I can sing along with any of them, a trait Justin finds frightening. Find me a musical on tv, and I will get up and sing to every song. Want to watch me act out South Pacific? I can, you know.

6. I was a gif abuser.
When I first got online several years ago, I made a website. It had animated, spinning gifs. It had flashing dividers and rotating email signs. And...a...midi. I'm sorry.

I think that's enough for now. And stop laughing and pointing at me. You know damn well there are things just as bad in your own closet. At least I've admitted mine.

i dream of tech tv

i dream of tech tv

I had a dream that I won this contest on Call for Help. Chris Pirillo and his crew flew to my house in helicopters. They were going to look at all our computers (there seemed to be about 100 of them) and tweak them and add programs and make them super powerful.

So I hear the copters overhead, and I see Chris dangling from one of them on a rope, he's going to drop into my house like some kind of superhero. There are camera crews and make up people. There's only one problem. I'm not dressed. I am running around the house in my underwear and I can't find my pants. And none of the pants I do find fit me. I hide in the closet and wait for someone to bring me something to wear. I finally find a pair of pants hidden under an old raincoat. I put them on and when I come out, Chris is gone and my whole family got new computers and got to be on tv, except for me because I wasn't wearing pants.

Today's aortal pick: the other spite meat.
QOD still running.

March 19, 2002

warm fuzzies

QOD=QOD

warm fuzzies

Sometimes in the middle of the night when the wind sounds like a ghost and the shadow of the rocking chair looks like a hunchbacked monster and all the worries and anxieties of the day are circling your head and screaming at you like banshees, you need warm fuzzies.

So I layed there in the dark (ok, I turned the nighlight on) and tried to think of all things memories that give me that warm, comfortable feeling inside. Those moments that you would love a chance to replay over and over again, or just experience one more time. My warm fuzzies:

The time I had the measles and my mom set up the lounge chair for me outside, so I wouldn't miss a beautiful spring day. She gave me a blanket and a pillow and a pile of books and made me lunch and served it to me. Then she sat next to me and read with me until I fell asleep in the sun.

All the times it snowed on Christmas eve, when I would stand at the front door and delight in the way the snow looked almost blue at night, the way it made everything glow and sparkle. And in my child's eye, every twinkling star could have been Santa flying through the sky.

The smell of my grandmother's house on a Sunday morning. Tomatoes and garlic and olive oil, so sweet and wonderful and strong that I could smell it as I stood on the sidewalk outside her house.

My children when they were infants, both of whom loved to fall asleep on top of me in the recliner, their little heads resting on my shoulder, their fingers curled around mine, and I'm glad I knew enough then to treasure those quiet, serene moments.

The first time I kissed Justin, on the Amtrak platform in Penn Station.

The second time I kissed Justin, outside of Penn Station, the noise and bustle of New York City all around us. We were oblivious to everyone and everything except for the man who stopped us mid-kiss and asked if we had just gotten married because we were behaving like newlyweds.

Every "I love you" that was every spoken to me or by me with sincere honesty.

Summer storms when the sky gets suddenly dark and the wind comes out of nowhere and the thunder shakes the ground.

Autumn days where the sky is that perfect blue and the leaves are a million shades of October.

Waking up and laying in bed, feeling that dread of another workday in your stomach and head, then realizing it's Saturday.

Finding a favorite movie on the tv while having a 3am insomnia bout.

Having a bedtime story whispered in your ear in the middle of the night when you are having a hard time getting back to sleep. Falling asleep in the arms of your favorite storyteller.

And yours?

have you seen my muse?

new QOD

have you seen my muse?

I was staring at the monitor, and then the keyboard, trying to summon up the muse to create today's post. But as has happened a few times over the past few days, the muse seems to be sleeping. Hence the penis posts.

I'm nervous that the Paxil is dulling me. It could be just the natural ebb and flow of my cycle, where sometimes I am creative and prolific and sometimes I can't even write a limerick. But it worries me that it's something else.

It's been a week now, and today my dose gets doubled and I am taking stock of the past week. Well, the past two days. Because honestly, in the last two days I have felt subtle changes. I feel calmer, more relaxed, like the "ants in my pants" that my mother always complained about are gone. I can sit and play a game of Scrabble with Justin and not feel like I need to be doing three other things at the same time. I have a bit more patience with the kids. I don't feel like I am living in a constant state of rushing off somewhere.

People have noticed. People who have no idea that I am taking anything have commented that I look more relaxed or I seem happier. Happy? Me? No one has ever called me that. Is this what I want? I mean, I've always been happy for the most part, at least in the last three years. But I always had that cynical edge to keep the pretty bunnies/happy flowers part of me from taking over. I like the simmering anger part of me. It's what keeps me motivated. It's what keeps me creative and keeps me writing and makes me want to change the world.

What I want is to lose the anxiety without losing everything else. Perhaps I am looking too hard into things. Maybe my cynicism and sarcasm are still there, but just not present at the moment because I am tired. It's been a long two weeks, I am still having bizarre dreams every night that keep me feeling exhausted, so maybe that's why I sit here to write and my mind can't find the words I want to say.

I'm still nervous about losing any part of me except the part I wanted to get rid of. I don't want to lose my passion for the things that I love. If I lose my ability to write, I lose me. Everything I gain by taking that little pill each morning will be overshadowed by the fact that I can't write anymore.

Of course, I may still be in that old mode of making mountains out of molehills. The worrying part of my is not going to go away overnight. That's just my nature. But if one more day goes by where I can't think of anything interesting to say or an interesting way in which to say it, I am going to have to seriously rethink my options.

I don't want to be selfish. I know the small changes that have appeared in the past few days are things that have made a big difference to those around me. I just don't want my creativity to be dulled. I don't want the words to dry up. Because without these words, I am only part of me. I've been writing since I'm old enough to hold a pencil. What if I wasted my whole life saying "I'll become a writer tomorrow" and now tomorrow is never going to come? What if the words have dried up already?

I know, I'm over reacting. That's just a part of me that will never go away, no matter how many pills I pop a day. At least, I hope I am over reacting. I hope that I'm just tired or going through a lull or my brain just wants a little break. I hope my muse didn't pack up and leave town. I mean, what if my anxiety was my muse?

I don't even want to think about that.

stuff 3.19

stuff 3.19

New QOD, where the Q is not for Question, but for Quote.

So many issues, so little time. There's god-induced book banning, an "army of god" throwing support to a bomber, men of god not only abusing children, but pratically hiding those who do, and you see where I'm going with this.

Oh, I wasn't going to read the news anymore, was I? Damn. Old habits die hard.

But hey, the Rangers got Pavel Bure. Gotta take the good news where you can.

And just for the record, if you are going to compare playing in a Streetfighter tournament to making love to a woman (clip 2), you probably have never made love to a woman. Inflatables don't count.

March 18, 2002

more penis fun

more penis fun

So everyone wants to know: where's the guy with his penis in the coke bottle? Where's the link? The pictures?

Well it was just an urband legend, people. But who am I to disappoint? You want penis stories? You got em.

Man pounds penis with hammer and nails, spills cola on it, has it chewed off by rats.

Penis Captivus

Mountain Dew shrinks penis size.

Penis stuck in swimming pool suction.

Penis glued to leg as revenge.

C3P0's penis.

Penis + vacuum cleaner = sucks.

Scrotum self repair.

Severed penis stuck to freezer.

Had enough yet?

what rhymes with fetus?

what rhymes with fetus?

Things seen on the way to work today:

1. A man standing on the side of the road, in the freezing rain/sleet/hail, wearing a denim shirt tucked into way-too-tight jeans, which were tucked into way-too-absurd cowboy boots. The outfit was topped off with a cowboy hat which was adorned with a silver star on the front. I imagine that he was waiting until high noon to take out his six-shooter.

2. A plastic doll in the middle of the road, head and legs pulled apart from the body and strewn in the right hand lane like the wreckage of a make-believe car accident.

3. The remains of a raccoon, crushed and bloody and strangely reminiscent of the plastic doll.

4. A sign that said "Let us Lube You Good!"

The first phone call today was from a person who said he was suffering from "pugilistic dementia" and who promised me, though it is of no concern of mine, that he would never get arrested for walking into his old high school again.

The second phone call was obviously a wrong number, but I could not convince the woman on the phone of that. For five full minutes she insisted that I should be able to procure circus tickets for her or at least tell her whether or not the elephants are trained "humanisticly" whatever that should mean. I really would have liked to stayed on the line with her. She was rather...interesting. I couldn't however, because...

A co-worker and I realized that the ancient mail lady looks like a fetus. We spent the rest of the morning composing limericks about it, and because....

I seem to once again have come into work with toothpaste on my shirt and I am no longer defending myself against the people who swear it is a bodily fluid. Instead, I am making up sordid stories about pulling over on the way to work for a good lube with a sidewalk cowboy.

Is it Friday yet?

too much information

too much information

I'm feeling the same as some other people. I'm feeling over-newsed and over informed and I'm just about ready to shut it all off.

CNN has become a member of our family.. It's always there, on one tv or another, laying low in the background. Even when the sound isn't on, the images flash before us, the scrolling words on the bottom announcing all kinds of hate and anger and sadness.

And it's not just the television. I already stopped reading the morning paper. I give a cursory glance to the local news on their website each morning, just to see if there is anything worth writing about. I stopped looking at all the news sites 40 times a day just to see what's going on.

It's not only the war and terrorism. It's the whole other world of hurt that is out there. It's mothers drowning their kids and husbands shooting their wives. It's 50 car pile-ups and raging fires and grown ups beating each other to death. It's dwindling freedoms and isms of every kind and sexual abuse and sexual discrimination and people suffering for just being who they are.

It's depressing. It's detrimental to my effort to get out of my doldrums and into a brighter phase of my life. Combined with my general worry over the future and the prospect of turning 40 this year, watching the news has become just another addition to the anxieties I heap on myself every day. It is counter-productive to the way I need to live my life right now.

I don't want to be completely uninformed. I'll still skim the headlines and to tell you the truth, I get a more honest presentation of the news from several weblogs than I get in my local paper, anyhow.

I don't want to put my head in the sand. But I do want a reprieve from those dark clouds every once in a while. Now is one of those times.

Now, I just have to find some more entertaining sort of news. Like the guy who got his penis stuck in a coke jar. Now, that's the kind of news I can deal with.

click here

click here

And then I just wanted to say that if you never read Eeksy Peeksy you should. The words make paintings in your head. Beautiful.

I dream of Sam Donaldson

I dream of Sam Donaldson

It's Monday and I can't explain how much I despise Monday mornings. This Monday brings a headache of gargantuan proportions and sleet, ice and snow to go along with it. Excuse me, but wasn't spring here on Saturday? Wasn't it 70 degrees? I've been saying all along that Yankees opening day will be snowed out this year. Mark my words.

So with an on-again/off-again cable connection and a pounding head, the only thing I can offer you today is the dream which probably caused this headache.

There was a dance at the school, except the dance was being held in a trailer adjacent to the school. I knew what was going to happen. I knew there was going to be a fire in the trailer. In my dream, I knew I had dreamed this before, so I tried to warn everyone. Of course, no one would listen. The principal and the other office staff would come over to the trailer every once in a while (they were all over 7 feet tall) and sniff in the windows and realize they smelled something funny, but would shrug their shoulders and walk away. I tried. I really did. But it was like I was invisible.

The Smashing Pumpkins were playing in the school cafeteria. I went in and they were playing "Mayonaise" and I was holding someone's baby. Everyone had babies. And they were all going to head over to the dance. But every time I tried to open my mouth to say something about the fire, nothing would come out. Instead, everyone left their babies with me and headed over to the trailer. I was left in the brightly-lit cafeteria with babies and Billy Corgan and pink streamers hanging from the ceiling.

I went outside and found my friend Bonnie and she was waiting on her boyfriend, who was the leader of a gang called "The Sticks." They wore red sashes on white shirts and red berets and they looked like hall monitors from hell. They came and got Bonnie and took her to the dance, even though she knew I was telling the truth about the fire. The look of resignation in her eyes was sad. She knew she was going into the trailer to meet her eventual death, but she couldn't say no to her gang-leader, hall monitor boyfriend. She kept glancing at me as she walked away, and I held her baby and wished her luck.

The fire started, as expected, and I fled the with my sister in one of those airport cabs that look like a bus. I kept having this feeling like I forgot to do something, and I suppose it came from the fact that I left all the babies in the cafeteria and that my own kids were at the dance.

We arrived at a sprawling hotel, where we were told to go around the back into the Disney resort area. We walked into the lobby and there were stalls set up that featured virtual video games. Most of them involved Sonic the Hedgehog inflicting some sort of pain on you. My boss walked by with a huge drink that was in a tikki mug, and the tikki mug was laughing at me. I tried to hide, because I was supposed to be at work, but he sort of walked right through me as if I wasn't there.

Suddenly the room went quiet and a woman announced that we should all stand and welcome our governor George Pataki. He walked into the room and he had aged about 20 years and was bald and fat. Everyone applauded, except for me because I don't applaud Republicans and the hostess threw me out of the dining area.

I needed to get a cab back to the school to see what happened with the fire. I was worried about everyone, but even more worried that I was somehow going to be blamed for it because I knew about it in advance. No one would believe that I had only dreamed of it and was using my dream as a warning.

The cab never came and I found myself in a party room sipping a drink with an umbrella in it and wearing a grass skirt. Sam Donaldson was there, and he took me down a flight of stairs, where there was a river and a boat waiting for me. I guided the boat through a series of lilly pads and ended back at the now burning trailer.

All the babies were lined up and waiting for me, arms outstretched. The gang members were all laying on the ground, now charred corpses identifiable only by their red sashes.

There was a gang of survivors coming after me, Frankenstein style, with torches in their hands. They were chanting and singing and leading the pack were Billy Corgan, Sam Donaldson and Todd. Todd was mad because I got the last box of Spiderman cereal.

Suddenly they are pelting me with rocks and stones and I can hear the rocks hitting the ground but I can't feel them. I just hear the sound, over and over, as I cower on the charred dirt.

I wake up to the sound of sleet hitting the windows and vow to never again eat a Slim Jim before bed.

March 17, 2002

road rules

road rules

My brother-in-law has this side job where he takes pictures of accidents for the local utility company when the accidents involve one of their poles. This happens more often than you would think. Lots of roadway, lots of people in a rush, too much drinking and driving. The accidents are always ugly, often fatal.

We got to my sister's house last night at about 6:30 and her husband was on his way from one pole hit to another. Big drinking night, the night before a Sunday St.Patrick's Day. Big drinking night equals big pole hit night.

So, we are there about two minutes and the phone rings. It's my mother, and she wants to make sure Justin and I are accounted for. There has been a terrible car accident down the block (she lives across the street from me). She can see the flashing lights and hear the sirens and she just wanted to make sure all her chickies were safe in their nests. We call her back a half hour later, wondering if all our relatives who live on our block were at home. She says everyone we know is ok, it's not a relative that is in the mangled mess down the block. The lights are still flashing, the sirens still blaring. From what she hears, they are cutting people out of the overturned car, using the jaws of life.

I'm not suprised at all by this accident, at least not where it took place. There's a traffic light there, at the end of my block and no one ever pays attention to it. It's situated akwardly, around a curve and not quite at the corner. Maybe people don't expect to see it. Maybe they assume that because it's just a silly little side street that the red light means they can proceed anyhow, because who would be coming out of a side street, right? They put the light in because there is a church and a school there, and they needed a way to get people to slow down coming around that bend. It hasn't worked. It has failed so miserably that I go several blocks out of my way each morning so I don't have to make the left out of my street onto that main road. I don't want to deal with the speed demons and cell phone talkers who aren't paying attention to the red light ahead of them.

I leave my sister's house close to 10:00. I go to turn down the main street that will take me to my block and I see the flashing lights and the orange cones. Four hours later, the street is still blocked off. They are still trying to get these people out of the car. I backtrack and take another way home and for a few moments I stand in my driveway, looking down the block at the scene and wondering.

What makes a person feel so powerful, so immortal, that they think they can get away with anything? I try to put myself in the mind of a person that thinks it won't happen to me. I can get behind the wheel of this car even though I've been drinking all night. Won't happen to me. Or the person who thinks I can go 80 miles per hour down this local road, even though it twists and turns. Accidents happen to other people, not me. Hell, I won't even wear my seat belt! Those thoughts are not just idiotic, they are incredibly selfish.

There are people on the road who think they are invincible. They don't follow rules set up for their safety and the safety of others. Red lights and stop signs don't apply to them. Speed limits are meant to be doubled. No passing, no parking, no turn on red....all those signs have fine print that say except for you. It's written in special ink that only selfish bastards can see.

They put on their make-up and talk on their phones and read the stock quotes while driving. They don't wear seat belts and don't make their kids wear seat belts. They are young and old and male and female and they are careless and inconsiderate.

You are not invinicble. Just because you drive a huge car that resembles a tank does not mean you can drive like you are the only person on the road. You can still go flying through that windshield in an accident. I've seen it.

You are not immortal. You may be young and carefree and you may get a rush from weaving in and out of traffic and blowing by the people who are already going too fast. But being young and feeling like you have your whole life ahead of you does not preclude you from losing control of your car.

You are not immune. Look at drunk driving statistics. Look at your laws. You may think you are ok to drive after 13 beers, but you are not. You may think your vision and perception is ok, but it isn't. You may be that lucky person who gets behind the wheel bombed and makes it home alive. Or you may end up being a statistic. Hell, you may even end up causing someone else to be a statistic. Either way, you are a loser.

Not a week goes by where I don't pass an accident on the road. I'm tired of reading about dead teenagers and overturned cars and drunk drivers. Cars are lethal weapons. I'm pissed that I can't let my kids play on the front lawn without getting stressed out because people around here drive like they are in Death Race 2000.

I think I got off on a tangent here, and it's time for baseball practice so I can't end this with some kind of clinching statement. Just....be careful when you get in your car, ok?

brain spittle

brain spittle

Had a strange day yesterday. It started off with this depressing gray cloud hanging over my head, the result of no sleep the night before and the realization that my house is a complete disaster and I could not find the motivation to start doing something about it.

I met a friend for breakfast late in the morning and on my drive to the diner I passed a church. There was a huge, lighted billboard outside the church, with a sign that said "DO YOUR CHILDREN BELIEVE THE MIRACLE OF EASTER IS A FUZZY BUNNY?" with no further explanation nor any instructions for what to do if that is the case. I really wanted to call them and tell them that the miracle lies within the chocolate bunnies, not the fuzzy ones. But then I would have gone into my chocolate jesus thing, and I don't think they would have appreciated that. Not to be confused with Candy Coated Jesus.

We went out to dinner last night, hitting several restaurants that we couldn't get into and then we realized that everyone was celebrating St. Patrick's day. We decided to try an Italian restaurant, which probably wouldn't be filled with people drinking green beer and singing Danny Boy, but after they sat us practically on top of a couple that was one half Fran Drescher and the other half Mr. Chew With Your Mouth Open, we got up and left and went next door to the Chinese buffet. The food was really good, the tables were roomy and spaced well and can someone tell me why a Chinese buffet featured hot dogs wrapped in bacon?

We went to my sister's house after dinner so Justin could hook up their new, superfast, superpowerful computer that they do not deserve. These are people who thought they could transfer the data from one computer to the next using one single floppy disc. I am so buying Justin this shirt.

So I watched the news and glanced at the St. Patrick's Day parade stories and I wondered why they are so offended at the thought of gay people ruining their image by marching in the parade, but they have no problem pissing in public, acting like complete drunken morons, and generally making idiots out of themselves year after year. They really shouldn't march around holding up their American flags and claiming to be these wonderful God-Bless-Irish-Americans patriots if they mean only straight Irish Americans. They can cloak the parade in the shroud of 9/11, but it still comes out the same to me; a parade of exclusion and narrow mindedness.

But what do you expect from a country that allows things like this to go on? Progressive, my ass.

Ok then. Do me a favor? Go read this. Dr Strangelove, or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Blog. Thanks.

I do have other, less random things to say. After coffee.

March 16, 2002

story time: more bodily function fun

story time: more bodily function fun

Today marked day one of Exercise Plan V.75.2. I was going to make this one work.

The day was supposed to start off with a long morning walk. Not one of those power walks, where a person walks so awkwardly they look like a crazed puppet. No, just a regular, albeit brisk, walk through the neighborhood. Two miles tops.

5:30 a.m. and I head outside. I'm suprised by both the warmth in the air and that it's not as dark as I anticipated at this hour. The birds are chattering, the squirrels are fighting over something dead in the road and there's a light rain falling, which is fine with me. I walk.

This is so nice, I think to myself. Peaceful. Relaxing. I become excited at the thought of doing this ever morning. Getting in touch with nature and my thoughts and the world around me. I used to do this, many years ago. I try to remember why I stopped.

About a mile from home I remember. I have to pee. My sister isn't exaggerating when she says I should have a catheter installed. I can't go more than half an hour without having to pee and I've already had two cups of coffee and a quart of water. I am a mile from home at six in the morning, and I have to take a piss. Badly.

I stand on the corner and resist doing the pee-pee dance. I go over my options. There are none. It's not like I can knock on someone's door and ask to use the bathroom. There are no stores open yet. I stand there and contemplate my fate. I think the birds are laughing at me.

It starts to pour. Out of nowhere, the sky opens up and drops a few buckets of liquid on me. The sound of the heavy drops hitting the pavement makes my bladder long to be emptied. Drip. Drip. Drip. Bladder water torture.

I start to walk east, even though my house is west, because I am stuck on one of those winding streets with no outlet and now I have to go the opposite way and all around before I can head back home. The downpour thins out to a steady drizzle. . Drip. Drip. I curse the skies. I look to the sky and I swear that one mocking cloud is shaped like a toilet bowl. I cringe. My bladder screams. I walk.

I find that if I walk fast, it exacerbates the situation and the urge to pee right there on the sidewalk gets stronger. But if I slow down, I will never get home. I eye the huge hedges surrounding the house to my right. No. No. I cannot resort to that high school antic of peeing in someone's yard. I'm not a drunk teenager. I am a sane, sober adult. I. Will. Not. Pee. In. Someone's. Bush. Drip, drip, drip goes the rain. My resolve is shrinking.

The sun is starting to break through. Bright pinks and reds make their way through the line of clouds and behind the shades of sunrise is a brilliant blue sky. Vanish blue. The kind of blue that the toilet water in your mother's house is. That kind of blue. I cross my legs.

I go north one block and then turn west and I am headed in the right direction at least. I try not to think about toilet bowls. The wind kicks up and an empty Poland Springs water bottle flies by and hits me in the shin. Water. Liquid. Pee. I step in a small puddle and the sound of my foot hitting the water is amplified in my head. Someone's automatic sprinkler goes on. Water, water everywhere and not a toilet in sight.

I can finally see the side street I have to turn down. I'm close to home. My teeth are floating at this point. I remember how my mother used to say "I have to piss like a race horse" and I start wondering just how much a race horse pisses. This makes me walk faster, almost break out into a trot and my bladder jiggles and wiggles and begs for mercy. My eyes are watering.

Finally, my house is in sight. I chant out loud "please don't let Justin be in the bathroom, please don't let Justin be in the bathroom" and I sprint the last few steps, over the porch, down the stairs, into the house where, thankfully, my bathroom door stands wide open, waiting for me. I don't bother closing the door. I just pee, sighing orgasmically.

I go to the safety of my living room, cross "morning walk" off of my exercise list and start shopping for a treadmill.

tidbits 3.16

tidbits 3.16

It's all about me today.

Twice this week I have been immortalized in comic form by D. I am Buttercup. As if there were any doubt.

I dream of spacecheese and I gave Dave my snatch.

Decided to plan my August wedding based on this one. What are the chances I could get Gary Coleman to be my ring bearer?

I am number two for making farts on the net. World domination, here I come.

QOD awaits you.

March 15, 2002

moral dilemma

moral dilemma

So, if a person is standing in front of you talking to you about something really important and serious, and he has a wet booger hanging off of his nose by a slimy string, and the booger is dancing in his mustache as he talks, are you morally obligated to tell him about the booger and if so, what is the proper way to say it?

fuck

fuck

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckityfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckityfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
fuckfuck.

There. I feel better now. Don't you?

special effects

special effects

Day 4 of strange effects:
I am having these moments where I feel like I could either run a 50 mile marathon or drop on the floor and sleep for 50 hours. My adrenaline soars and drops like NASDAQ. I can't eat and I have cottonmouth I haven't experienced since 1980. My boss said I look feral.

And now I'm thinking this side effects issue can play to my benefit.

Wow, your hair looks like shit today!
It's the Paxil!

Do you realize you were doing 70 in a 40?
It's the Paxil!

Ohmygod! Are you listening to Kylie Minogue?
It's the Paxil!

You haven't completed a single piece of work today.
It's the Paxil!
Oh wait, no....that's Snood.

It's really the same excuse I used in high school when I was caught wearing gold lamé pants and dancing to Donna Summers.

It's the drugs, man!

suburbian life

suburbian life

What the hell is in the water around here, anyhow?

I'm going to start telling people I'm from New Jersey.

these kids today....

QOD

these kids today....

I came home from Natalie's 7th grade orientation last night (I know, it's only March - like I need to worry this far in advance) armed with a list of subjects that are available to her for 7th and 8th grade, things like Importance of Play and Reading; Egg Baby Project; Instruction in the use of a Digital Camera; Internet Research; College Applications; Hand Sewing; Design and Construction of a Dragster.

When did this happen? When did schools change from the basic home ec that covered everything from baking cookies to dying your hair? Now they're carrying around egg babies and learning how to play properly. Hopefully these classes will make them more prepared for the real world than I was. Everything I learned in junior high is only good for playing along with Jeopardy! every night.

So I am sitting there at this orientation, and I have this flashback of kindergarten orientation, and I am suddenly in one of those moods. You know...where did the time go, when did my baby grow up? I could swear that it was just two weeks ago that she was sleeping with a stuffed animal and playing with American Girl dolls and....wait. That was two weeks ago.

Something has happened to my daughter. My worst fears have been realized. She has become a.....teenager. It happened overnight, I swear. And it's all because of a boy. Michael. The bastard.

Flashback last month: She is asking me for scotch tape because she has to fix the Nscync posters that are in her locker. Then she is on the phone with her best friend and I hear a few words here and there......Princess Diaries...Justin Timberlake...neopets.....And I smile in my knowledge that my little girl is still so sweet and innoncent.

Cut to the present, two nights ago. She is on the phone with this Michael boy, who calls at least 40 times a day. This is what I hear: "And what is this crap with having a keyboard in our band? It's a punk band, what punk band has a keyboard? I mean, we were supposed to be a freaking rock band to start out with and now we have this Jingle Balls shit, like we're a freaking boy band!"

So now she's cursing and her favorite band is Linkin Park and she is going through her closet getting rid of the "baby clothes" that she picked out when school started and begging me let her put blue streaks in her hair.

She's boy crazy, but at least it one-boy crazy. I mean, she's 12. What could it possibly mean to have a boyfriend at 12? It's not like she' going to start making out with this guy, right? I talk to her about it and she rolls her eyes and