Get A Globe!!

Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take you
To Bermuda, Bahamas come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego baby why don’t we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo…

Here’s another appalling report regarding the stupidity of Americans… seems only 37% of young adults ages 18 to 24 could identify Iraq on a map of the middle east. (A whopping 69% could find China…) It’s downright amazing any of them find your house with a pizza, isn’t it?

“Despite intensive media coverage of the damage from Hurricane Katrina, nearly
one-third of young Americans recently polled could not locate Louisiana on a map
and nearly half were unable to identify Mississippi.”

And better yet:

“While the outsourcing of jobs to India has been a major U.S. business story, 47
percent could not find the Indian subcontinent on a map of Asia.”

What I don’t get is why are armed forces recruitments down? (I know, let’s blame Cindy Sheehan!) It’s not like these young people know where the heck they are being shipped out to!

My New Career!!

I think the Bush Administration should pay me two million a year to circulate this map (above) to increase volunteer enrollment. All I have to promise them is lots of sun and sand…

Getting a Life One Post at a Time

Ever Notice

Why do domestic pets think puddle water is a gourmet delicacy? It’s as if they want worms…

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

If I put a chicken coop in the back yard, will people stay away in fear due to Avian Flu? Exactly how many chickens would I need? Also, can I interest you in some fresh eggs?

Lard Doesn’t Smell Nice, But I Bet it Works

Why can they put a man on the moon, but can’t make a scented hand cream that doesn’t dry your hands out? How much alcohol is in fragrance anyway? Must be a lot. What about essential oils? Do they feel dry after a while as well?

That Sinking Feeling

How many sinking ship movies do we need? Titanic III – Global Warming! Tink. A tiny cube hits the bow... (product placement: Sanka)

Still Wondering

Is making your own gas illegal? What if it’s just for personal use?

Clean Conversation

Wonder what the Homeland Security worker listening to my call thought yesterday as they caught this snippet…Hello. Yes, I’m glad you called. No, I was going - Splooop!
Yep. Dropped my cell phone into a bucket of bleach water I was using to disinfect the bathroom. I now have the cleanest phone anywhere. Hats off to the crew at Samsung for creating such an indestructible product. I just kept pushing the buttons to squeeze the water out and it seems ok. The display had that hazy condensation around the perimeter, but it seems to be fading.

Fashionista Crepidam

If I opened a magically addictive shoe store in Harry Potter’s fictitious Diagon-alley, would I be spoken of in hushed tones as She Who Must Be Well-Shod?


Wildlife Gone Wilder - or - As If You Needed an Excuse Not to Exercise

Trappers hunt alligator suspected of killing jogger

Associated Press
Published May 13, 2006

SUNRISE, Fla. -- Trappers using pig lungs as bait scoured canals and other areas Friday as they tried to find an alligator that killed a woman out for a jog. Are a jogger’s lungs well-developed to the point of resembling a pig’s? What made that good bait?

Yovy Suarez Jimenez's dismembered body was found in a canal Wednesday. The 28-year-old resident had left Tuesday night and did not return. Was she going out for an alligator handbag and matching shoes?

Dr. Joshua Perper, Broward County's medical examiner, concluded Thursday that "the alligator attacked the woman while she was on land" and then dragged her body into a canal. Who recreated that scenario? What led to that conclusion?

He added that she "died of traumatic injuries sustained by an alligator attack." You’re sure it wasn’t a flock of flamingos gone bad?

Suarez's mother told WFOR-TV she last spoke to her daughter by phone Tuesday night when she was sitting under a bridge by a canal. Not the dock of the bay?

Witnesses saw a woman matching Suarez's description dangling her feet over the water's edge, but no one saw an attack, said a spokesman for the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission. Ever see a great white shark jump? Wonder if the alligator leapt straight up? They lie really still and then…

Authorities killed two alligators but determined they did not kill Jimenez. Innocent blood spilled!! One had only tennis balls and a football in its stomach, said a Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission spokeswoman. Were there any missing tennis players lately? Poor thing had a stomach ache, I’m sure.

Suarez's death is the 18th confirmed fatal alligator attack in Florida since 1948. In an unrelated story: the homeless population has been declining steadily thanks to the efforts of the Tourism Board/Association of Alligator Farms of Florida.

Seeing Red?

getalife took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "In despair and needs relief of some sort. Wants ph..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

Yep! That's Me!!

Chick Lit

When the meek inherit the earth, I just figured I’d take it from them by force. Never gave much thought to the fact that it was my fellow bloggers I’d be fighting against…

Seems all this talk about Avian Flu has me treasuring my anti-social ways. Saw this scary segment on the NBC news Sunday morning about a potential Bird Flu outbreak that could affect millions. Now, to date, only about 91 people world wide have died of avian flu in the past few years, far fewer than plain ol everyday influenza. BUT IT COULD HAPPEN!!! Yeah. Right up there with finding WMD. Could happen. As you well know, I’m a big proponent of fewer people on the planet, so a killer mutation isn’t a big concern of mine.

I don’t know if the news broadcast was being informative or inflammatory. I do know it got my attention. They suggested stockpiling two months worth of food, water, and prescription drugs. Among the tried and true advice of ‘don’t touch live chickens’ and ‘wash hands frequently’ was another little gem: ‘practice social isolation’. Sounds like the blogging community to me! Bloggers shall inherit the earth!

Hmmm. Now to some folks, that might mean avoid crowds. To me, that’s the best excuse yet to skip Aunt Tillie’s eightieth birthday party, Sally's big wedding extravaganza and Percy’s graduation gift grab. Oh, sorry….I’d love to come to your baby shower, but I’m practicing social isolation for the good of the country. Can’t let those Asian fowls win. Maybe next year. Give my love to Grandpa Joe. Heh, heh, heh.

Speaking of prescription drugs…

The Chicago Tribune ran an article on the front page regarding the fact that you have to sign your life away to by Sudafed, but Vicodin isn’t tracked at all. Hopefully this will change, as Class II drugs are now being entered into computer databases.

My last trip to a pharmacy was less than pleasant. I tried a new one to get away from the evil Wal-Mart in my town. I went to the new store and saw only a Drop Off window. I stood politely until the man on duty acknowledged me. I asked if my prescription was ready. This is the drop off window, he observed tersely. He then walked away, leaving me to think I was in a Monty Python skit.

He re-emerged some 20 feet away where I saw another cash register. Oh. That must be Pick Up. Well aren’t we off on the wrong foot. So now I see that the Pick up isn’t part of the little filling station booth and come to the right register. He then starts shaking his head and gasping at the cost of the drugs. This is not good. This man has been filling six-thousand dollar heart meds all day, and thinks mine is too much.

Do you have insurance? Yes. Oh, well your doctor didn’t say that. I’m glad. These are very expensive. Yeah, well, don’t get me started on that topic either, buddy. Besides, why would doctor’s office give you my insurance? They don’t care. Not their problem. I present my card. He says they used a generic to fill one med, do I mind? Not at all. In fact, the only thing in my life I would never use a generic on is birth control pills. Wonder how many little Genericas and Genericos were born last year as a result of less-than-effective generic equivalents?

At any rate, this made me think about what I would do without insurance. Suffer from seasonal allergies, that’s for sure. Or would I? If I had no insurance, I most likely would have no job, and if I had no job, I’d be homeless, and if I were homeless, I’d move somewhere warm, like Arizona, and my allergies might not be so bad there, if I kept out in the desert areas. But not Phoenix. That's gotta be bird flu central. Right up there with the Canary Islands...

Nothing Free About This Trade

Latest Immigrant to Take Jobs From Hard-Working American Bears?

What's black and white and rented all over the U.S.?

Apparently those cuddly pandas visible at four zoos across America.

Like you, I once thought the pandas were gifts or loans from China. You know, a 'thank-you for not invading us when we smashed the students in Tiananmen Square like the insignificant bugs that they are' kind of a thing.

Well it's come to my attention that the pandas are rentals. Seems Beijing charges about a million dollars a year for a pair of the cuddly critters, and if they do the impossible and reproduce, that'll be another $600K, thank you. Nice to know it took our crack intelligence agencies years to figure out we were getting the occidental rate - Thailand pays a bear minimum of $25K a year for the privilege. Didn't take that closed society long to get the hang of price gouging your rivals, now did it?

While I was wasting my time wondering if they were bears or raccoons, China has been raking in the dough. Supposedly these funds are to finance preservation programs in China, but I for one am skeptical that the money is being spent on bamboo reforestation, or that loaning pandas is little more than a political gesture.

Seeing that we've started global turbulence for less (like imaginary WMD), I suggest stopping the extortion payments. Issue the little furballs political amnesty and let them apply for citizenship. Bet they can learn the Star Spangled Banner in English.

Why I Haven't Written

Blog Canceled on Account of Niceness!!

That's the weather. Not me. Don't worry. I still have plenty of nasty things to say, I've just been outside washing and polishing cars. More writing soon.

Cruciferous Vegetable Update

Bearded Dragons eat cauliflower; Box Turtles do not.

Some people cook; I laundry.

When it came time to buy appliances, I asked the salesman which range was the cheapest, and I took it. Couldn’t care less. They all heat frozen pizza, right? The washer dryer combo on the other hand was the best money could buy. I’m already feeling inadequate as they came out with the steam chamber dual dryer feature not long after. But the stove? Low miles. Looks new. Just a big white thing to wipe when cleaning.

As an avid meal prep-a-phobe, my eating habits are pretty bad. If it can’t be eaten out of the package, made with three ingredients or less, or involve nothing more complex than “microwave on high, turning tray half way though cooking time”, I’m just not interested. As I’ve said before, cooking is like milking a rattlesnake for anti-venom; it’s a dangerous task best left to professionals.

Mr. Right on the other hand, has the makings of a great cook, if only I could get him to do it more often. The only problem is he makes meals that are so unhealthy Ronald McDonald would cringe. Every entrée involves the killer combo of ‘crumble fresh bacon’ and ‘fry in bacon fat’. Thank goodness the planet is in such sad shape I have no desire to live much longer anyhoo…

A recent newspaper article on how to make the perfect poached egg caught our eye last week, and Al decided to give it a whirl. What a difference the whole left-brain/right-brain approach makes!

I consider a recipe to be a guideline. A general idea. A your-results-may vary (in my case: stink) kind of thing. Those little numbers besides the differ rent items? Suggestions. I mean let’s not get all anal here; a ¼ tsp. means a pinch. Just throw some in and move on. Not for Mr. I’ve Got to Do This Right.

Yes, folks, it’s time for another episode of Cooking With An Engineer!

The first clue I was in for a culinary treat was noticing he was holding a tape measure up to a saucepan. Excuse me? I asked. The article says at least three inches of water, he replies. Hmmm. Ok, maybe that’s why nothing I make comes out vaguely resembling the photo, but a tape measure? Really. What’s that in millimeters? I ask, trying to throw him off track. Too late. He’s already got the pot on, awaiting the magical boiling point. I continue to read my paper,

Now it’s getting good. He’s standing there with a meat thermometer, trying to deduce the precise moment that the 212-degree water drops to the desired 180 degrees. Sheesh. Again, I suspect his attention to detail will pay off, but really, who has this kind of time?

Now he smashes an egg into the water. You’re supposed to slide it in, I gasp. I know how to break an egg, he retorts. Yeah. Right. Whatever.

Now he’s going much slower with the second egg. Did you measure those with calipers? I ask. You want them the same volume, don’t you? Undeterred, he continues. Gallantly, he gives me the second, gentler egg.

Have to say, that was the best poached egg EVER.

I Resemble That Remark

"I envy paranoids: they actually feel people are paying attention to them."

Susan Sontag

How Opal Mehta got Her Book Yanked Off the Shelves

Dear Little, Brown (Or do you prefer Hachette?):

Please allow me to jump on the bandwagon for just a moment and point out the amazing similarities in Ms. Viswanathan’s text How Opal Mehta Tot Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life and my blog: an obvious and blatant act of plagiarism worthy of several million little dollars worth of redress.

The main plot element of the book is that of parents trying to help their daughter gain Harvard admission after being told she needed well-rounded real life adventures, not just a stellar GPA. They devise a plan dubbed How Opal Will Get A Life, or HOWGAL, that involves her attending teen parties and finding a boyfriend.

1) The title. Do we even need a number two here, your honor? I thought not.
2) If I must persist, the theme of the book and my blog are the same. Female outsider seeks approval and acceptance, realizing popularity and designer clothes are a must. I didn’t see much about sports cars, but her love interest has a 72 Mercedes he considers one of the three most important figures in his life.
3) My parents just hoped I’d move out and not come back.
Ok, that isn’t much of a parallel here.
4) The letter “E” is used more than any other in both her book and my blog!Coincidence? I think not.
5) “Dedicated to TK” I know a TK!!

Well, if you had any question over who has the best lawyers, score one for Random House. Copies of Kaavya Viswanathan’s new book have been recalled. No word yet on who she will be ‘inspired’ by for book two.

Read some great debate on the subject here.

Who Knew?

Preliminary clinical trials indicate reptiles do not like cauliflower.

This Stinks

Well, Something Was Afoot…

A podiatrist was given the death penalty for killing a patient of his who was about to testify in his fraud case. He was also convicted of bilking Medicare for more than 6,000 foot surgeries he never performed. Sounds kind of corny, doesn’t it? He was quite the heel. OK, I’ll stop with the blistering commentary….

Will a Frango Under Any Other Flagship Still Taste as Sweet?

Still seething from the impending Macy’s takeover of the Marshall Field’s chain (are they going to rename it Macy’s Museum of Natural History?* The heretics!!) I am eyeing the Frango flap with skepticism. Too little, too late, I fear. As per my earlier posts, I see no reason to change the Field’s name and have sworn to never shop there under the Macy banner.

Amazingly, an article on the front page of the Chicago Tribune points out some tempting reasons to re-think the prohibition on spending my hard-earned retail dollars at 111 N. State ever again.

Seems Macy’s is trying to get Frango production back into the city, something that never should have left. Yes, it’s due to foreign sugar competition (I tend to be anti-free trade, unlike KaneCitizen. But let’s face it; I’m pretty much anti-everything.) but the candies weren’t cheap to begin with. Oooh! I wonder if the Gold Coast condos give those out for Halloween? Only one way to find out…

They also depict a tasteful awning that says Macy’s below the metal nameplate of Field’s, which will be allowed to remain on the building. I guess the clock stays too.

Refurbishing plans include washing the building (oh, that will stay clean about as long as my car. The black one.) and restoring the elevator to the 28 shop. Like I could ever dream of shopping there. We kind of wandered through it on our audio tour, and saw some cool funky outfits that would require a large inheritance. Also on the drawing board are plans for valet parking (like I’d drive downtown?) and having customers announced by a doorman and greeted by their favorite sales associate. Oh, I’ll get that service, I’m sure. More like the You Can’t Afford This, Keep Moving raised eyebrow. I get that one a lot.

One of the more unusual features will be the addition of a fresh food court. Great. I can buy an orange on the lower level, and by the time my hands are good and sticky I’ll be on fourth-floor furs. Stellar idea.

But they haven’t announced the scale-tipper. Will they clean the ladies restroom???


*I need to do some research. What if Macy’s owners are a bunch of Creationists?

A Million Little Similarities

Quick! Hide your manuscripts!

So I was sitting around doing what I do best (seething over the good fortune of others) as I read the tale of the 19 year old college sophomore at Harvard who received a $500,000 advance while still in high school. Nothing makes my day more than knowing I’m a total failure. A big, fat, over-the-hill failure.

However, just days later, Kaavya Viswanaathan, author of How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild and Got a Life by Little, Brown, is under intense fire amid charges of plagiarism. Turns out her book has passages that mirror text from Megan McCafferty’s books Sloppy Firsts and Second Helpings. Viswanaathan apologized profusely on the Today show, but the lawsuit stands. Seems Little, Brown has no plans to pull the book, and that is what Mcafferty and Random House are seeking.

I have not read any of the books in question, but I would certainly like to see some examples of the passages in question in order to judge for myself. After all, even Helen Keller was pilloried regarding a short story, and Mark Twain himself championed her; confessing to unconscious regurgitation. In short, the jury is still out.

In the meantime, I can now agonize over not only being unpublished, but being unplagiarized.

Open Season on Pandas

Maybe at the back of the yard, over by the blackberry bushes...

Yesterday I debated the whole notion that a ‘gas shortage’ exists. Today comes news that the president has temporarily suspended environmental rules for gasoline. His whole administration has been leading up to the shining moment when the gas industry can do what they please while shooting spotted owls (and good friends) on the weekends to unwind.

I really think my favorite was when Bush said, “Our addiction to oil is a matter of national security concerns. After all, today we get about 60 percent of our oil from foreign countries.” Oh, yes, national security. All those oil-producing nations attacking US….As for those foreign countries supplying that whopping 60 percent? Gosh, I seem to recall we are occupying one. Why aren’t we pumping that oil over here for free? It’s needed to rebuild Iraq? Hmm. Why does it need rebuilding again? Oh, yeah, we attacked it…

The Democrats don’t have a clue, but they certainly are benefiting from the situation. And by the way, until a magnificently styled 450 H.P. high-performance hybrid is built, I’m not buying one. We all know one could have been made years ago, but the same guys running the nation now suppressed it.

On One Issue, I'm Not Alone...

Everything I need to know I learned from the Bible Ray Harryhausen

Nice to know I'm not the only one who thinks the Evil Oil Cartel who runs our nation must be stopped. Some even use the same fox-in-the-hen-house analogy that came to mind when I read that President Bush wants to investigate allegations of price gouging.

Oh, come on, the "if I launch an investigation I'll look like an innocent concerned leader" stuff went out in the 60s with the Warren commission. No, wait, there was that 9/11 commission...

So ol' Bushie is afraid he's lost a few opinion poll points, boo-hoo. Supposedly he's at his lowest approval rating level ever. I read a really scary thing in the Chicago Tribune today. They claim that about half of Americans endorse creationism. (Note to Self: Rant about that in a future post...) Hmmm. Less than half approve of his job performance, meaning he's losing his own fundamentalist backers. Just proves you still need to drive that SUV across town to bomb the abortion clinic.

There is no oil shortage, and I'm starting to get the sneaky feeling there is no Federal Oil Reserve either. The Strategic Oil Reserve was created as a cushion during energy disruptions. I mean, do you really think there's all this untouched "money" lying about? It's like Social Security. A great idea, but some crooked politicians took a little here, took a little there, and guess what? It doesn't even exist anymore. Bet there are only fumes in those salty barrels.

For my vacation, I'll wax up the Vette and drive it carefully to the end of the driveway and back. I really do like to think I'm having an impact on the economy by not planning big driving vacations the past two years. Take that, flooded out NOLA.

Want my approval Bushie? (I mean, firing Rumsfeld would be a start, but that's not going to happen.) Ninety- nine cents. Say it with me - High Octane Gas-O-Line for Ninety-Nine Cents a Gallon.

I am a performance car enthusiast, and I vote.

Big Night Out

Received an invitation to a Random House soirée last week, and decided to attend despite the fact that it was held on a ‘school night’. As an aspiring author, all I can say is: I’d make Faust look like a pious God-fearing Puritan for the chance to get that publicity juggernaut behind something I did. Wow!

A swanky dinner was held at the Blackbird restaurant downtown to promote first-time author Matthew Skelton’s new children’s book Endymion Spring. Wonderful venue, we had a banquet room all to ourselves, and there was plenty of opportunity to discuss this excellent book and the creative process behind it with the very personable Matthew. The food was superb and the service stellar. Standing around with a glass of Chardonnay and discussing a book was so… so… so… NOT my life and so the “Life I’d Like To Get”. At least now I know what the life in I Need A Life is. Well, if I were the celebrated author being feted, of course.

Anyhoo… I recommend Endymion Spring as a literate fantasy for young people. Let’s see how it sells!

Of course, the true highlight of the evening was stepping out of the restaurant and seeing not one, but TWO Ferraris parked on the street. It was like seeing a Van Gogh dangling from a second-story window: So rare! So beautiful! So valuable! So unsafe!

Sorry, but downtown Chicago is not the place I’d want to park or drive a Ferrari. Had a nice time taking to some gentleman about the cars (were they the owners? Or valets?) To imagine I spent all that time agonizing over the color of the new Corvette, when it was the Forbidden Fruit I should have been lusting after…

The black one had no top and the most incredible buttery tan leather interior that contrasted nicely with the batmobile-esqe exterior. The odor of finely tanned leather wafted out as I leaned as near as I dared. There was no gear shift in the middle console, just some small T-shaped lever. Huge paddles hugged the back of the steering wheel – the tipitronic shifter.

The rear hood, or hatch, whatever you call the engine cover, had a clear Plexiglas window that allowed observation of the motor wedged behind the roll bars. Awesome! No badging was present that identified the model, just a very small insignia on the front hood and a Pininfarina* badge on the rear quarter panel. The red one looked quite similar. Just one of these vehicles cost more than my house, property, vehicles, clothes, shoes, furniture and anything else I might possess put together.

After doing a little research, it seems I had the privilege of seeing one of the first 2006 F430 Spyders – read about this aggressive supercar here and here. Be sure to note the $217,000 price tag. Wow! It really was a night to remember.

Now there’s a life…having to go to Italy in order for technicians to custom-fit the seats and pedals to your frame. Then it’s off to the Italian Alps to try out your new purchase!!!

*Mark of Excellence! Found on my old X1/9 and the Daytona Spyder

Oranges to Oranges

To add insult to the loss of Daytona Sunset Orange from the Corvette line-up, the replacement color, Atomic Orange, has been unveiled. No thanks. No desire to drive a Sunkist ad. Too light. Too bright. I want a very dark, almost coppery color. Burt Sienna-ish. I like odd colors (like Warbonnet Yellow) but I'm not hankering for the flat 70s orange. Just more proof the world is out to crush my spirit. Right up there with deadly contact lens solution and high gas prices, these conspiracies to crush my soul add up little by little.

Book Blog

Classic Children’s Literature as Penned by Yours Truly

Sarah Plain and Tall Short and Sarcastic

Pushy Northeastern bride straightens out loser widower and his two bratty children

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

12-year-old Harry discovers the devilishly evil witchcraft that occurs in illegal closed-session meetings between the mayor, council, and land developers

Caddie Woodlawn Woodfield

Wisconsin tween dreams of the day she can travel south to the world’s largest (retail space) shopping mall

Charlie and theChocolate Nike Factory

Vietnamese boy works in sweatshop sewing shoes for greedy American investors

By the Shores of Silver Crystal Lake

Confused about her sexuality, young Laura discovers true love at a Gay Games rowing event

Because of Winn-Dixie Wal-Mart

Woman loses job trying to organize union at local retailer and leaves town to spare her family harassment

Where the Wild Things Are

Midwestern woman raises reptiles in sunroom to chagrin of husband

Cricket in Times Square Plain View

Aforementioned pets’ dinner escapes to Living Room

Click Clack Moo

Cowtown woman who Blogs

Blog-a-versary

Tis a sad, sad day for this (formerly) great nation of ours when driving around to find a gas station advertising high-octane under $3 a gallon proves impossible.

I pulled in across four lanes of traffic at a Mobile advertising $2.99 only to find the fine print reading “with wash’. As soon as I’m elected president, such fine print at the pump will be made illegal. It won’t be needed anyways, as gas would be much cheaper under the reign of SSMW. Not to mention the fact that heavy tax credits would be offered to citizens who had no children but multiple cars. Yes, things would run so much better if the world would only listen to ME.

You know those annoying little bumper stickers that say drivel like ‘my child is an honor student at Lincoln Elementary’? Perhaps you’ve even seen one of the funny rebuttals of ‘my kid beat up your honor student’. Cute. But I’d like to go one better. Since my car is my pride and joy, I need a bumper sticker that says ‘my car ran over your honor student’.

Oh, do you like the new wheels? Hot, but very, very hard to keep clean. As I’ve said before, buying a black car is just announcing to the world you’re getting far too much sleep and your time would be better spent waxing and polishing. Add chrome wheels, and you might as well skip those leisurely three minute showers and just hose off after getting the car clean before work.

In other depressing news, Chevrolet announced there would not be a Daytona Sunset Orange Corvette offered in 2007. Great. I’ve obsessed over this color since it was introduced and they yank it after a mere 12 months. Figures.

In even worse news, “Development” continues unabated, and I will have to fill you in on all the depressing details another time. Like when I have a cup of hemlock nearby.

Do you realize I’ve been doing this blog for a year now? Big whoop. I haven’t obtained a book contract or made an iota of difference in the world. Yep, pretty much the same thing I was doing BB. (Before Blog) As the T-Shirt says, Some Days it Isn’t Even Worth Chewing Through the Restraints.

Great Friday

After seeing a weather report predicting rain and 60s, I promptly overdressed for my little outing to the Shedd with Martha. I wore jeans, a tank top, pull over sweater, olive green ankle boots and matching belt. I even took a light rain jacket. Mistake!

We arrived downtown around 8:30 and decided to walk to the museum. We were shocked at how warm it was even at that hour, and thoroughly enjoyed walking by the lake stripped down to our lightest layers. Just past nine, the line was already starting to form at the aquarium, so we wasted no time in checking out the Komodo dragon. Faust was fast asleep in a corner of his plush enclosure, and didn’t make for a good picture. After wandering through the reptile section and peeking at a few tanks, we decided the best course of action was to have lunch.

One glace at the food court filled with screaming kids solidified the decision to eat in the upscale sit-down restaurant overlooking the lake. We were among the first seated at eleven, and tables filled fast. A glass dish of Goldfish crackers was brought to the table and we enjoyed an excellent meal in a pleasant setting. Ok, I’ll admit to my surprise that the menu wasn’t filled with seafood ‘mistakes’. Stuff like: Didn’t Make It Damsel Fish, Who Forgot to Check the PH in Tank Five Flounder, and Baby Beluga on a Bun.

Things were getting really crowded by the time we finished, but we soldiered on to see all the exhibits and dolphin show. The highlight of the afternoon was the rare Blue Cayman Iguanas. They were very active and the male was as interested in the crowd as they were in him. Hard to believe there are only 30 left in the wild.

To see the shark tank, visitors must use an elevator to a lower floor, which allowed me to quip, “Now to complete your fishy experience, we will pack you in like sardines…”. Got a pretty good laugh on that one. Even better was the man on the return trip who looked at his watch and told his little girl that the gift shop closed at 1:20 p.m. and she was out of luck… I think he’s been speaking with Mr. Right or something. Anyhoo…

After buying some pins at the gift shop (which was very open, thank you) we proceeded to walk back to State Street to commence the Serious Shopping. Glancing about, we concluded that others had heard the same confusing weather reports that we had: many people carried umbrellas, and dress ranged from skimpy jogging attire to layered sweaters and long pants. Stopped off at the Architectural Store and saw lots of cool stuff we couldn’t afford. Like the $59.95 shirt emblazoned with the city skyline. Nice, but not happening at that price.

Our next stop was Nordstrom's Rack, then over to Filene’s Basement and TJ Maxx. I bought a lot of gauchos and Capri type pants. Reports of a sagging economy are greatly exaggerated according to my observation of the check-out lines in these stores. They announced TJ was closing for the night, and the line was incredible. We checked the train schedule and decided we weren’t doomed … yet… and shuffled along to checkout. Walking back we enjoyed an evening temp of 76 degrees! Tulips and daffodils were blooming in planter boxes along the streets (thank you Mayor Daley) and trees were beginning to bud.

Martha suggested stopping at an open air bar/café and I’m so glad we did. It was a beautiful night to sit outside and enjoy a drink and some appetizers. We decided to do a Chicago trip once a month, checking out a different museum each time. Sounds like a plan! Not sure how I’m going to afford all that world class shopping however…

Open Letter to Former Illinois Governor George Ryan

Dear Fatso,

When it’s 105 in the shade and you’re shuffling down my pot-hole-riddled road dressed in that natty orange jumpsuit with a trash bag slung over your shoulder, stay alert. That jerk in the semi who’s doing 90 MPH over the hill while yakking on a cell phone and blaring Toby Keith probably has you to thank for his license. Oh, and watch out for the dead mice in the beer bottles. If the snakes haven’t gotten in there first.

Enjoy!

Longer Blog Later

No time to write!! So sorry I've been busy, but thanks to everyone who visits and posts comments. I will respond soon. Going to see Faust tomorrow and am faced with the awesome task of Which Shoes Do I Wear??

Lots of walking. Possible rain. Unseasonably warm.

And the number one consideration?

Entering Big City. Must Look Cool!!!

I'm wearing jeans and a green tank w/green sweater, so I have been screening my 14 pairs of green shoes all evening. I'm worried the best choice could become uncomfortable after a few hours of walking, and have begun trying alternates. The most comfortable sandals (black and brown) give off the Jesus Sandal vibe, and that's just not right for this outfit. I want high fashion, but as I said, it's not the best choice over the long haul.

I have some light green Minnetonka that are very low but nice, yet I haven't broken them in yet. Bought at the end-of-summer sidewalk sale, they've never been worn, and they don't quite feel right. How could I have bought an uncomfortable pair of Minnetonka? Only me. That's why they were on clearance. Too many ER visits brought on from giant blister pops caused the discontinuation of that model. Bet the green dye causes cancer too. Oh, and let me tell you about my contact lens solution...

Gotta run. Need to make a few more 'test runs' up and down the driveway in various footwear in the hopes of picking one before daybreak. Need to be on that train by 7 a.m.!

But What Really Knocked Me Out

What can I say? Yes, my ambitions in life are quite small*, especially when you consider one of my loftiest goals to be the ability to wear cheap sunglasses.

Why? I’ve been a slave to prescription eyewear since about age nine, and I hate it. I had a brief stint with contacts in high school, but it didn’t work out, especially with my seasonal allergies. With the advent of Lasik surgery, there seems to be hope on the horizon, but I can’t quite overcome my abject terror at the thought of laser beams directed at my eyes. I know many people who are thrilled with the results, but some people have serious permanent vision problems afterwards. I mean, sure, I love dogs and most books are available as audio, but no driving? I don’t think so!

As a last-ditch effort, I asked once again about contacts at my most recent eye exam. After careful research (picking up the phone and asking how much an exam cost) I selected a uniquely qualified practitioner (read: low bid) at the local Meijer’s Superstore (motto: We’re Not as Evil as Wal-Mart! Yet.). I was pleased to learn contact technology has come a long way over the years and decided once again to try and free my face from the tyranny of designer eyewear.

I’m narrowing in on the proper brand and fit, and hope to be able to enjoy this new found freedom. Everything is better without the cumbersome glasses! Pulling off a sweatshirt without having to take the glasses off! Washing the car without having to wipe them clean of overspray! Driving without seeing the edges of the lens. Best of all: picking out those cheap sunglasses!!! Whee! I want a dozen! All shades! All sizes! The ultimate fashion accessory!

I did ask about extended-wear lenses, the type you can sleep in. My eye doctor said they did not have an FDA approved lens for astigmatism. Now had she merely said they didn’t make one for my prescription needs, I would have understood. But when you tell me there isn’t an FDA approved something, well, that must mean there’s a non-FDA approved item, right? So, over in Russia there are people running around with extended wear lenses that I can’t buy here, right? To say that the FDA approval process is flawed is an understatement. I could very well be wearing contacts 24/7 if not for some bureaucratic baloney keeping me from my Bill of Rights guaranteed Right to Make Stupid Decisions. I’m going on line to see if I can order some from the Balkans or something. Some sweatshop in Taiwan must be churning out cut-rate contacts for sale abroad.


* See future posts for further exploration of this philosophical concept

Tastes Great! Less Filling Life!

According to the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (a wet blanket if ever there was one), Americans eat far too much of the super-deadly Trans-Fat. Although Trans-Fat has yet to be assigned a Daily Value, you can rest assure I’ve exceeded that amount by eight a.m. What, you don’t eat Pop-Tarts and Oreos for breakfast? What kind of health nut are you?

As Lisa Ryckman of Scripps Howard News Service described it, Trans Fat is the “Voldemort of the fat world”. It’s been called “metabolic poison” by Walter Willett, professor of the Harvard School of Public Health. An estimated 100,000 deaths a year are attributed to hidden Trans Fats. A National Academy of Sciences panel concluded the only safe intake of Trans Fat is zero.
So where is it lurking? Just in everything that ever made you want to take a second helping.

From the FDA website:

Trans fat can be found in vegetable shortenings, some margarines, crackers,
candies, cookies, snack foods, fried foods, baked goods, and other processed
foods made with partially hydrogenated vegetable oils. Small amounts of
naturally occurring trans fat can be found in some animal products, such as
butter, milk products, cheese, beef, and lamb.

Public Enemy Number One? McDonald’s French fries. Why doesn’t Billy Graham just come out and denounce those fries as the work of Satan? They’ve been blamed for absolutely everything except 9/11, which we all know was Saddam Hussein’s fault. Bet he force-fed dissidents Little Debbie Snack Cakes.

Although new food labeling guidelines are a step in the right direction, amounts of half a gram or less get the designation 0 grams of trans fat, and restaurants are not required to reveal the use of trans fats. McDonald’s has been notoriously deceptive in revealing what exactly is IN those fries, so don’t expect any movement there. Heroin would be my guess.

Anyhoo, please take this little quiz.

Count how many of the following products you consumed this week:

Veal
Beef
Butter
Milk
Pepperoni
Bacon
French Fries
Cheese
Lamb
Oreos
Twinkies
Steak
Velveeta
Margarine
Triscuit
Crackers

Score:
0-2 Might Live to See Your Next Birthday
3-5 Health Insurance is a Must
6-9 Nice Knowing You
9+ Want to Come Over to My House For Dinner? Bring the Crisco!

First for Faust

Awwww!*

Well, gosh, look who got near the computer again…Mr. Right tied it up for some six hours last night downloading tax forms. Why do I get the feeling Al Capone Jr. is going to get me in some sort of trouble with our do-it-yourself tax return? I’m not worried about doing jail time (however, the thought of catching up on all my reading is VERY tempting…). If the feds started grilling me about the taxes I’d just say, “Oh, you think Mr. Right is a tax cheat! Ha! Let me tell you some of the really good stuff…for complete immunity of course. Then I’d make up a bunch of lies and go on Oprah to cry about how my husband’s in jail and things are so tough. She could introduce me to Jim Frey’s agent or something.

Just read The $64 Tomato by William Alexander. Not impressed. Cute idea – man figures out how much it really cost him to raise his own tomatoes and comes up with $64 each. I was expecting Erma Bombeck, but it fell far short. I never cared about him or his family. The writing (he’s an English major) failed to pop – not hysterically funny, not deeply profound. I was never drawn into the garden, caring as fiercely as he did about each little sprout. All I saw was a rich yuppie throwing away money because he couldn’t stand up to contractors. At the end, when he had to retire from gardening due to a bad back, I felt nothing. There were some amusing anecdotes, but that’s about it. On the other hand, I could read Bill Bryson’s grocery list and laugh, cry, and ponder the beginnings of the universe. It’s all in the writer.

Mr. I-Could-Save-The-World-Too, Right is watching 24. They have this disclaimer come on warning viewer discretion due to violence or some such nonsense. A more accurate statement would be: Due to Impossible Situations, Viewer Gullibility is Advised.

Excited about the prospect of seeing Faust, the 8 ft. Komodo Dragon who’s on loan from the Fort Worth Zoo. Faust will appear at the Shedd Aquarium beginning Saturday. The Shedd is the most visited aquarium in America. (You may recall Monterey Aquarium in California was posting record receipts, but they had to let their Great White Shark go because it was acting, well like a Great White Shark. It was eating everything else in the tank. Personally, I think that would not have been reason to release it back to the wild, but certainly reason to double the entrance fee!) I will NOT be waiting A) for Flu Boy B) until the last minute.

It’s my own darn fault. I gleefully filled out two of those ‘how do you like your new car’ surveys, and now I have received two more in the mail! I suppose I think I am actually influencing automotive design or some crap. More like skewing some demographic. They just must be selling my name to a bazillion survey lists. Who cares? So far, I’ve made $2 filling out these stupid forms. Can’t beat that!

Watched Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Prices.
Oh. My. God.
I always knew they were evil, but this was beyond the pale. 5 stars! (Not so much for style, just for change-your-life-ism)

*Tribune photo of Faust by Milbert O. Brown

Ewww!

The ONLY good thing about living this far north is there aren't a lot of insects about. However, I found this little cutie while cleaning this evening, and just had to post it. It's a Pseudoscorpion. Related to both spiders and scorpions (yet neither), this tiny bug is found all over the world. Harmless predators, they eat spiders and winged insects many times their size. I let it live, just because it is so cool looking. Awwww..!

Ugly Couch Cam III

Hey Kids, It's the Easter Bucky!!

What’s the Opposite of Stockholm Syndrome?

Why do I have the nagging suspicion that if I were held captive for three months by extremists, an offer of free psychiatric care would be extended…to my captors?

Can I Get a Fitness?

Just stewing about the fact that Mr. Right probably lost 7-10 lbs. with his little flu encounter while here I am struggling to fit in my jeans. With shorts season around the corner, I had best knock of the Dorito-fest and ice cream orgy. How depressing. I recently bought one of those Fitness Balls to help me tone up. I don’t get it. I’ve been working with the Fitness Ball for six weeks now, and haven’t seen any results…

Day 1

Have to have the Fitness Ball. It’s the hottest new workout trend.

It will help build and tone my core muscles! Think about it during the entire banana split.

Day 2

Saw a Fitness Ball at the store. Knew I could do better than that on price.

Notice chocolate is on sale and buy a bag. What a value!

Day 17

Still pricing Fitness Balls, closing in on a good one, I just know it.

It’s either the red one by the Burger King or the purple one behind Culver’s. One of those.

Day 28

Find a cheap Fitness Ball in just my size! (extra short) No video with it, just the ball and a pump. I’ll buy the video separately. The ones that come with aren’t any good anyhow.

Day 29

Discover no one sells workout videos for the Fitness Ball. What’s up with that?

Complain about this to Louise over brunch at the all-you-can eat dessert buffet.

Oh, I think there were some eggs and bacon there too.

Day 35

Find a video AND have a coupon for it! I’m in business now!

So happy, I buy a Slurpee™ on the way home.

Day 36

Become very exhausted by using that stupid little foot pump to inflate said Fitness Ball.

Only left leg is toned. And sore. Take nap.

Day 37

Put in video.

Seems to be divided into segments of warm up, cool down, various workouts, etc. Nice!

****

Give up in heap of agony 12 minutes into the program. I’m not even sure if that was the ‘warm up’ section or not, might just have been a ‘demonstration’ section.

Day 38

Too. Sore. To. Move.

Day 39

Between aspirin, move ball to various places in living room so husband can walk past.

Day 40

Leave ball in front of TV on the theory that I can do a few sit-ups or push-ups during the commercial breaks.

Day 42

Name ball Bouncy to personalize the workout experience, as in,

“Honey, could you move Bouncy? I can’t see the TV.”

Day 43

Banish Bouncy to the basement where it can keep the Step™, Nordic-Trac™, Ab-Buster™ and tiny trampoline company.

Silence of the Germs

Fighting Global Warming?

Whew! Blogger was down last night so I had to post early this morning. If that sounds like I’m bitching about a free service, you’re right. So what’s your point?

Attended the author signing in Oak Brook and had a wonderful time. Many great stores nearby! Next time I’ll make a day of it. Louise went with me and we arrived twenty minutes early and grabbed some seats in the front row. There was a young gal who looked like she was doing homework in the opposite corner of the last row. As we browsed another young woman took a seat. Yep. That was it. Packed house of four. One of them was a homeless person who just wanted a place to sit and get warm. Later, a woman who blogs and wants to be published joined in. Hey, that was my gig!

As expected, Wendy and Jen were very personable and enjoyed talking about their books. They did some selected readings and then took questions as shoppers milled around. I can’t help but wonder if Margaret Atwood gets 500 How Do I Get an Agent? questions. I did feel kind of bad no one was asking about metaphors or story arc, but perhaps memoir just doesn’t lend itself to such analysis. As nothing in either book seemed improbable or outrageous there wasn’t a lot of Frey-esqe grilling. It’s amazing to think agents approached them on the quality of their writing.

They were polite enough to pose for pictures afterwards as well, so they can join my Hall of Shame (authors unfortunate enough to be in a photo with me) that includes Christopher Paul Curtis and Mark O’Shea. (Near Misses: Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson and Amy Tan. Apparently they have Staff to keep souvenir hunters away.)

Although my writing may not be to that level, I do think a hook is the defining factor. Wendy wrote of weight loss, Jen of unemployment. My big theme? Development. The loss of farmland and open spaces to sprawl. How trees are slaughtered for Wal-Mart parking lots and the notion that Change is coming and you can’t stop it. I’m not the only voice crying in the once wilderness. But I am the most sardonic! More on this as I get serious about branding my blog. I don’t know if changing the url will be needed, but I’ll keep you posted.

In other news:

Am I the only one who thinks the only way for justice to be served is for Gov. George Ryan to get the death penalty? I’m so sick of some people trying to paint him as this big saint who is a hero for the anti-death penalty cause. It’s disgusting. His move was A) political and B) forced, as the evidence of wrongdoing in the convictions was so strong. Quit making him into Mother Teresa. And don’t get me started on her, either!

Have you heard about Bag Borrow or Steal? It’s Netflicks for party chicks. The premise is that for a monthly fee members can rent high-end designer purses. We’re talking $1800 Louis Vuitton and Fendi totes and handbags. Beginning at $19.95 a month, you can request a bag, have it shipped to your house and use it all you like. When you’re ready for a change, mail it back ($9.95, and there’s additional fees for insurance) and get the next one. Lisa and I sat down at work and tried to figure this out. It would take a good $1800 a year to use the program. Now, who exactly would I be showing off for? Coworkers? Get real. I live on the prairie. Styles take ten years to make their way to the Midwest. Who in the cubicle down the row would recognize Prada if it bit them? Well, other than Lisa, no one, that’s for sure. Oh! I know. I could take Chico the Drunken Chihuahua about town in one! If I was cool enough to be invited to a party where a designer handbag would be appreciated, I’d be rich enough to buy a closetful. Although I must admit the whole idea has me thinking of founding…

SixShoes.com

Have a special event coming up? Have you the cutest outfit, like ever? But, like no shoes? Bummer! Well, like, if you’re a size six, your worries are so over. Just come to SixShoes.com and email us a photo of that special ensemble. Magically overnighted to your door will be the perfect size six shoes for that outfit, guaranteed!*

Gosh, here I am wondering why U. S. Highway 173 is a skating rink (this has been the mildest winter on record, yet Route 173 is more dangerous than the Donner Pass every time it dips below freezing. There are even studies being done to see if certain curves are ‘engineered incorrectly’. No, you idiots, it’s called Plowing and Salting. Try it.) when the answer appears on the front page of the Chicago Tribune today. Seems ol’ IDOT paid some $500, 000 to advertising agencies to get the word out that the Dan Ryan Expressway project starts Friday. Hey! Lookie there! I just mentioned it! On my blog! I’m sending them a bill!! Among the suspicious charges is $25 K for imaginary t-shirts and pens. Oh, that blog mention has to be worth… oh, about a mere $1800 or so. You know, rental Chloe purses for a year.

Confidential Message to Mr. Right: No, it is NOT too much to ask that you get sick by appointment only. If you really loved me, you’d fly me to Italy to see the real ruins of Pompeii. Stopping off in Maranello, of course.

*Offer Not Available in Philippines

Chicago Hopeless

I’m sorry Mr. Right, but if everyone got two fluffy pillows, there’d be chaos, wouldn’t you agree?

Worst. Weekend. Ever.

Germ Boy asked for some orange juice at one point. Sounded like a request I could handle, so I foraged about kitchen. That’s the room with fridge, right?
Found some frozen concentrate and tried chopping it up in lukewarm water to speed things along. Heck, sick people can’t taste anyway. Only two ingredients, one of them water. I can handle it. Kind of.

I pour him a big glass over ice so he doesn’t notice my speedy delivery of something that didn’t exist a minute ago. He drinks it and heads back to bed. I head to the kitchen again to put Peach Schnapps in my glass before adding ice and juice. Whee! This is a party.

This reminds me a very funny thing that happened in Key West. One night Louise begins peeling an orange and offers me some. “Oh! Where did you get that?” I exclaim, thinking I missed some roadside stand or the fruit-laden tree right outside our room. “I brought it from home”, she replied. “Let me get this straight… you brought an orange all the way from Wisconsin to Florida??” Guess I’m just lucky she didn’t make me roll down the rental car windows so we could fling them out yelling, “You’re home! Be free!!”

So I spend all day Saturday on the couch (having slept there Friday night) depressed and fearful of contamination. If he stirs, I can always use a broom handle to push some more Thera-Flu through the doorway. Around noon I offer him some soup that I’ve been simmering on the stove all morning. Ok, more like held up a can of Chunky vs. Wolfgang Puck and asked if he had a preference. Do you have plain chicken noodle? he asks, being difficult. With an exasperated sigh I find some generic chicken noodle and microwave it.

I don’t even read. I just watch TV. What a waste of two days. I think I slept eleventeen hours. The absolutely only redeeming thing I can say about the whole weekend is I learned exactly what makes a Hemi a Hemi is by watching a DVD about great Mopars of the past. I think my favorite is the 1970 Challenger T/A. Burnt orange would be nice, that bronzy color.

I spend most of Sunday boiling the bedding and washing it with bleach and sterilizing toothbrushes and toilets, etc. And being bitter. Very, very bitter.

Oh, sure, he offered to go on Sunday. Yes. A two-hour train ride, just what you need honey. Let’s infect the general populace. And train toilets are such fun! Yeah. Never mind.

About now I’d like to point out that HE’s the one who got the flu shot this year. Now I’m convinced the government is using them to kill off the elderly who are using Medicare benefits. There’s something in them that MAKES you susceptible to the flu. Or at least ruining your spouse’s life. I missed Pompeii, and the exhibit is now touring Tokyo. Great. I missed seeing ancient people and dogs preserved in the fetal position by volcanic ash to watch the husband spend the weekend in the same contortions.

Tomorrow: Tales of Meet the Authors at Borders! Or, why you should feel sorry for people who write soul-barring literature and have to put up with weirdos who just show up hoping for how-to-get-published tips.

The Can Opener is Over There; You Know How to Use the Microwave

Had this big weekend going downtown to see the Pompeii exhibit planned, perhaps even catching a performance of Wicked (another one of those still-kicking-myself for not thinking of that ideas), and now it's down the tubes.

At 2 p.m. Mr. Right left a message on my cell phone that he was leaving work early because he didn't feel well. He's got to be dying for that to happen, so goodbye ruins of Italy, hello ruined weekend.

So when I get this message at 4:45 p.m., I call and find out he's home in bed with the flu. Have you been near any live chickens? I ask warily. Assured that he hasn't, I hang out at work until 5:20. No one wants to see a movie with me, so I go to the health club and grocery shopping, and... well, I guess I have to go home sometime, don't I?

I hate sick people. I avoid them like the plague they are. Nurturing and patient are qualities I was not issued. The people in that long line weren't pushing or complaining. Thank goodness I charged right over to snatched up talents like Natural Accessorization Sense and Cool Car Appreciation instead. Hmmm. Perhaps I should go make sure his tissue box matches his barf bucket or something.

I know! To cheer him up, I can wrap the Ny-Quil bottle in tinfoil. See? I'm thoughtful.

Met the Authors!

Went with the black pinafore and flowered blouse. Good call!

Lifestyles of the Rich and Blogging

Getting ready for the big trek pilgrimage to see Jen and Wendy, the blogging authors I mentioned earlier. Agonizing over what to wear, as Jen has pages of her site devoted to chewing up celebrities who violate her fashion sense. MUCH snarkier than any What to Wear or Joan Rivers tirade, so I’m understandably nervous. Should I dress up? Down? Conservative? Funky? What will make her snicker the least? The last thing I need is her refusal to check out my site because anyone who would wear THAT can’t possibly have anything funny/profound to say.

As someone who is never seen in the same outfit twice (ask my co-workers, I’ve been there almost ten years) there’s bound to be some missteps along the way. Learn and move on, that’s my motto. But that’s work. Not celebrity stalking. Can’t gush about being her number one fan in mismatched accessories.

Mr. Right suggested my Key West Outfit. He would love to hear what Jen thinks of that. That’s the one where I later found the flaw caused by some careless child laborer who couldn’t sew a decent seam for fourteen hours straight and now I’m stuck with an imperfect top. Mr. Right hates this outfit, as it doesn’t ‘match’. This is the man who sees nothing wrong with two unrelated couches in our living room. Yeah, I’m going to take his advice. The man is a software tester. His idea of high fashion is a new pocket protector. Does this USB drive make my butt look big?

The KW top and skirt are silk and of similar colors*, but not patterns. It’s kind of a boho gypsy-type outfit. It’s not supposed to match, and for me this was a leap of faith purchase, as I’m not usually drawn to such ‘cutting edge’ type frippery. But I do “do” weird, and, well, there was a lot of incense and funky music…

Now Wendy, Wendy will be nice. Bet she’s sweet and kind to me. Then she’ll tell me to keep moving, she has real fans to meet. Later, she will stage whisper to Jen, “The nerve of her, using a coupon for my book…”

In totally unrelated news – a friend at work told me she did some pet-sitting last week, and among her charges were two turtles, Sam and Ella. Get it? SAMANDELLA? Too precious!!

*Found the cutest pair of Candie’s to go with them today and had a $30 coupon so they only cost me $5.34 with tax!! Score!

Write Me In

Think I know why I’m not writing anything…I’ve been unnerved by reading Bitter is the New Black, and now I feel anything I post won’t be infinitesimally as good as the Jennslyvania blog. As soon as I get past this bizarre ‘stage fright’ or what ever it is, I’ll be fine. But for now, no big issues or even story-arc posts.


(Well, maybe one little comment – I hear a Super Wal-Mart is coming soon. Why on earth we need yet another one in the area – there’s one being built a mere 8 miles away and the next closest is about 22 miles away – is beyond me. Except for the fact that Wal-Mart is hell bent on total world domination, and will succeed in making us all slaves. I guess that’s as good a reason as any to put one in every town in America. Walmerica. As with any evil entity, I have to stand back and admire their awful success. Their methods, although heinous, are at heart very smart and simplistic. Of course I’m jealous I didn’t start the chain, who wouldn’t be? But as the one who has to watch Wal-ing of civilization, it grates.)

Did my civic duty and voted. Born in Chicago, I’m entitled to Vote Early and Vote Often! But I restrained myself. Nothing like staring at a ballot full of uncontested races and ‘No Candidates’. As I’ve often said before, it’s just so disgusting that people like myself who don’t have money are too busy working several jobs to run for meaningful offices. This leaves things like congressman and mayor to those who are already wealthy from family connections, insider deals and shady business transactions. Only they can afford to take these jobs and meddle further with my life while fattening their pocketbook.

Saw an article in the paper about Burn Fat Without Trying. It was a little health missive about how daily chores can burn calories.

Among the pursuits listed: Cleaning Rain Gutters: 340 calories. Ok. Household chore I could feasibly find myself doing. More like Watch Husband Clean Rain Gutters: 24 calories. Laughing as cat climbs ladder to explore roof and husband almost falls trying to capture him: 58.

Accordion playing: 122 calories. Who plays the accordion? I’d be glad to expend twice that to get them to stop.

Shoveling coal: 476 calories. Well, here’s another I’ll encounter in daily (after) life. Turning on gas fireplace: 2 calories.

Washing the dog: 238 calories. Is that you or the dog? How about Washing the Cat: 435 calories. Trip to ER for stitches: 132 calories.

Ad came in the Sunday paper for shoes. What’s up with that? That’s like mailing out little vials of crack on the theory that someone on the block will get addicted. Great way to drum up business.

So there’s this page in the paper: H NGER on a white background. Beneath in smaller letters is the phrase, “ The problem can’t be solved without you.” Oh. So that’s it. Put a U in for hunger. I was trying to put an A in for hanger. Figured it was an ad for spring clothes or something. Don’t forget the hangers for all your new outfits! Made sense to me. I could use some more padded hangers.

What to say about this last one? Did you hear about the 49-year-old woman who was arrested for DUI? Seems she was doing a few shots with Chico, her Chihuahua, before going to the local elementary school to pick up her son. Oh, and she had her other 3-year-old in the car with her at the time. Not surprisingly, she was arrested again for the same offence only a few days later. Do I even need a punch line here? Just wish there were photos...*

*The really scary thing is a Google Image search for "drunk Chihuahua" yields hits

Have to pretend I live in a democracy and cast my vote tomorrow.

I don't know about you, but I'm sick of the two-party system. And yes, it's a system. The only thing stronger is the cult of celebrity, but that's a story for another night.

Promise I will write more; I've just been too tired lately. Perhaps with spring will come a burst of energy and creativity. Yeah. Right.

Enjoy your balanced day.

Touched By His Noodly Appendage

It's official! I'm a Pastafarian.

In one of those oh-so-horrible why-didn't-I-think-of-that moments I had the pleasure to discover the Flying Spaghetti Monster and learn the truth between the pirate/global warming connection.

(I was also quick to note FSM is not depicted as covered in tomato sauce... Coincidence, Kane Citizen?)

The Kite Killer

Public Enemy Number One

Have you heard the reports from Pakistan about the ban on kite flying? Seems citizens were killing each other while using glass-coated or metal kite strings to conduct kite duels during the spring festival of Basant. Seven deaths have been reported in the past two weeks, including a four-year-old boy. Hundreds of arrests have been made, as citizens ignore the ban, refusing to be grounded for their own good. Guess they need to plant some kite-eating trees.

Wouldn't they be better off cracking down on something really dangerous, like Maypoles? All sorts of opportunities for mayhem there. Not to mention gaiety.

That’s Mrs. Jack Bauer to You

Just saw a Fox News report that said in today’s information/internet age, it seems keeping your secret identity as a clandestine government shadow organization agent is pretty hard. The report cited websites and freedom of information acts as part of the problem.

What ever happened to the good old days when the British government disavowed all knowledge of 007’s existence? Oh, and by the way, when filling out a credit application for that new car, don’t put down Secret CIA Agent under “occupation”. It’s a real giveaway.

After hearing the report, I just wanted to fake a website ‘outing’ me as a high-powered operative. Might give some of those creepy developers pause before ticking me off.

Reading: LOVED Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster and really enjoying Stiff by Mary Roach.
Watching: The Incredibles. Very good, well done. Really enjoyed King Arthur (Clive Owen, Keira Knightley: is she annoyingly gorgeous or what?) and its take on the legend.

Greenspan Book Deal

Penguin Books just won a bidding war rumored at $8 million to publish Alan Greenspan’s memoirs. Heard they beat out competitor Random House for the rights. Random House is notable for publishing A Million Little Lies by Jim Frey. Greenspan will have a collaborator (i.e. professional writer) assigned to help him create a book, which I doubt will ever recoup their investment. Random House could have had Frey ghost-write it as a big payback. Among the bombshell revelations according to Frey: Alan cheated his way through NYU, contributed an uncredited solo on Sentimental Lady, and of course, there’s the raging affair with Ayn Rand.

I Do This All The Time!

Why You Have No Protected Rights, Man

A survey conducted by the McCormick Tribune Freedom Museum found that less than 1% of respondents could identify five 1st Amendment rights, yet 20% could name five Simpsons.

I Want Her Life

Same Dif

I’m On Her Side!

Anna Nicole Smith continues to struggle for her claim against the estate of her former husband J. Howard Marshall II, a Texan oilman who died at age 90 after 14 months of marriage. Fighting her is her 67-year-old stepson E. Pierce Marshall. The court case has dragged on for more than eleven years. Why doesn’t she just marry the son too?

Shoe What?

My Hero

A January poll of 600 affluent adults with household incomes of $150,000 or more showed men own an average of 12 pairs of shoes, women, 27. What kind of amateurs were they asking? On a Friday afternoon there are more than 27 pairs of my shoes simply strewn across my floors. And my income is nowhere near $150K. Although I must admit if I quit buying shoes, my savings might approach that level.

Price Check Register 4

Came home with my loot from the dollar store last week*, and Mr. You-Got-Me-A-Name-Brand, Right? seemed skeptical regarding the bag of 1000 generic cotton swabs on a stick I scored for a mere buck. Like what, admitting to the ENT specialist you perforated your eardrum with something less than Johnson and Johnson’s is more humiliating than having a genuine Q-Tip brand surgically extracted from your ear canal??

*You’d think I was going to a strip club; I was so excited about spending that stack of singles…

So That’s the Problem

Now I know how alcoholics feel when they finally admit their addiction. You know how those little checklists run in the Dear Abby-type columns? Things like: You Have a Problem With Alcohol When… The other morning I’m listening to a local radio station air a commercial for a dermatology practice. A sympathetic doctor explains she and her partner see many patients who lack social confidence, avoid social interaction, don’t want to leave the house and dislike having their picture taken. Ohmigod! I’m an ACNE SUFFERER!! Who knew?

Under the Influence of Incense

So I’m getting ready to wear my way cool hippie shirt bought in Key West when tragedy strikes. It’s a reversible tie top to wear over a shell, and I decided to wear the teal-colored side out in honor of St. Patrick’s month. Now, I could care less about a bunch of drunken Irish, but the opportunity to wear my favorite color is not something to pass up. Like gemstones, I’ve never met a shade of green (whoa, Freudian slip, I just typed greed…) I didn’t like. So I needed to steam the wrinkles out of the silk before wearing. During this process I noticed a flaw in the sewing. On one side of the shoulder was a seam or small length of stitching that did not belong. Not a dart; it did not appear on the other side or other shoulder. It was a mistake. Either the stitches hide a flaw in the material, or an error was made during the sewing process. Great. Some eight-year-old in Sri Lanka wanted to avoid a beating and I have to suffer for it! Doesn’t anybody take pride in their work anymore?

I'm Not the Published Me, and Very Bitter About It

Just have to post a plug for two of the coolest blogs out there – run by women who both gained book contracts from their on-line rantings. (Yes, hope springs eternal!)

First is Wendy McClure, Oak Park author of I’m Not the New Me, Riverhead, which I favorably reviewed here last summer. Wendy runs a website called Pound that details her struggles to lose weight and – gosh, is this some sort of a theme or something? – basically get a life.

Jen Lancaster, author of Bitter is the New Black : Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass,Or, Why You Should Never Carry A Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office, is also a Chicago area resident who had a life – and then lost it when downsized. Her blog Jennsylvania.com chronicles her struggles to become a writer and keep a roof over her head. Jen knows there is nothing wrong with the universe that can’t be solved with a pair of new designer pumps, if only she could afford some. Penguin books came to the rescue and now she too is a published author. And wearing cool footwear, I’ll bet.

Both ladies will be signing their books at the Border’s store in Oak Brook on March 23, and I really think I should go. If nothing else, it will make a good post. In the meantime, would you please pester HarperCollins to produce “I Need A Life! Or at Least a Three Book Deal” by yours truly?