Basic Survival Skills in the NFL, or Thank Gods Todd Sauerbrun is Learning-Impaired

I haven't blogged lately, and that means I haven't blogged about the Bears lately. And that's because the Bears are depressing. Today I decided to tune in to the game vs. the Broncos, during which I discovered that the Broncos kicker fails at basic survival skills.

For those who are not NFL-aware, Devin Hester is the most devastating punt returner in the game today. If you give him a centimeter, he will take a touchdown. Generally, every team in the NFL knows this fact and have added this basic rule to their survival manuals.

Do not kick high and up the middle to Devin Hester.

This is akin to laymen saying:

Do not set yourself on fire. You can if you really want to, but you're probably going to regret it. A lot.

Todd Sauerbrun of the Broncos missed the memo and punted a beauty to Hester which was promptly returned a cool 70-some yards for a touchdown. He fell over in the backdraft created by Hester zooming to the endzone.

Ok fine, sometimes people have to learn things the hard way. Except Sauerbrun apparently needed this additional rule in his manual:

Do not kick high and up the middle to Devin Hester again if you already did it once.

Which is akin to laymen saying:

After setting yourself on fire, putting yourself out, and dressing your burns, do not set yourself on fire again. Seriously. You can probably still feel the pain of your blistering flesh even as you read this. Don't light that match. Seriously.

Because he kicked another humdinger to Hester which got returned a cool 80-some yards for another touchdown. Possibly I got the 70-some and the 80-some switched. The end result is the same. 6 points for the Bears and Sauerbrun flat on his back watching Hester set his ass on fire. Again.

As a human with basic cognitive skills I find it a little disturbing when a fellow human turns on the extra-strength stupid like that. But as a Bears fan I am extremely grateful for this turn of events. And Gods bless Robbie Gould for the game-winner.

PLEASE let this verdict stand

"God Hates Fags" church (aka the Pestilence Known as Fred Phelps and His Ilk) ordered to pay $10.9 million for funeral protest

I wish I hadn't eaten dinner before reading this because this is so tasty and delicious I could have saved myself a bunch of calories.

Truth

Newark Airport - conveniently located just minutes away from the exact center of hell!

Things That Are Pissing Me Off

Any Wal-Mart commercial, but particularly the Wal-Mart commercial which tells you the heart-warming reason why pro football players love their mommies - because their mommies were able to give them junk food bought at Wal-Mart and wash their tighty-whities with laundry detergent bought at Wal-Mart. It ends with the incredibly dumbass sexist comment "and they say moms don't know anything about football." I had plenty of reasons to hate Wal-Mart but they keep making sure I never run dry.

Trying to get out of the house for a bit and take myself to Target or the grocery store, only to find after about 20 minutes in the store that I am suddenly lightheaded and worn out and need to get my pathetic ass back home.

The look and feel of a healing abdominal incision. The look and feel of my abdomen around the incision in general.

Capitalizing on an interception that your rock-star defense snagged for your team, by throwing the ball right back to the other team. And by capitalizing, I mean eating the opportunity with flaming habanero salsa, causing it to come shooting out the other end in fiery stanky horror to be flushed down a toilet.

The fact that I can fully sneeze again (for a while after the surgery I couldn't) and the fact that I don't seem to be able to stop fully sneezing now that I've started. My incision is ill-pleased.

Thankfully, my kitties and a small supply of 3 Musketeers Mint with Dark Chocolate minis are helping me get by, otherwise I'd be trying to choke a bitch right now. Just as soon as I get up the energy.

All Things Ghetto Fabulous (Including One Extraordinarily Dumb Cat)

I've decided I need to get in on the do-crap-and-get-paid-for-it action. I want Food Network to air my new show, Ghetto Fabulous Kwizeen. An entire episode will be devoted to spray cheese. I will probably need an entire week to cover the glory of Spam. And the myriad ways to tart up ramen noodles and Hostess pastries will probably carry me into early retirement. Believe me, you'll thank me when the Velveeta Dinty Moore Ramen Bake episode airs.

Speaking of trash, I received a bag of circus peanuts from John and Laura this weekend. Now, in my humble opinion, circus peanuts join forces with Peeps and candy corn to form the Unholy Candy Trinity. Every ten years or so I get the urge to taste one or the other of these candies, just to remind myself why I hate these candies. The last time I ate circus peanuts was in college, and I distinctly remember chewing it with my mouth open, as though I could possibly release the circus peanut evil back into the wild that way. It does not work. And it did not work this time. Circus peanuts = horrid gritty fake banana awful. As Laura cited in her blog earlier, Bad-Candy.com waxes highly poetic on the subject of circus peanuts and how gritty/horrible they are.

I have yet to meet a person who loves circus peanuts. But yesterday, I found out I own a cat who loves circus peanuts. Yes, my feline badonkadonkdonk Molly was presented with a circus peanut and proceeded to lick and chew the crap out of it. And this morning when I came downstairs, what did I find on the floor but the open bag of circus peanuts and a partially masticated peanut next to it. I think with Halloween so close I'm going to pick up some candy corn and Peeps and see how she takes to those. I have a feeling she'll be able to guest-host Ghetto Fabulous Kwizeen for me.

In more boring news, I started working from home today. It went mostly ok, I had to lie down flat on my back for a few minutes during the day to relieve the pressure on my incision, sitting upright all day doesn't do it any favors. I think in a couple more days I'm going to try driving (doctor's orders = no driving for 2 wks).

The Crap People Get Paid Good Money For

So in the course of my enforced post-op inactivity, I've been napping, knitting, reading, and surfing the largely desolate landscape of daytime TV. Today I flipped past Food Network and was accosted by Sandra Lee, who in my opinion is the biggest no-talent ass muppet to hit food television, and that's saying a freaking lot considering how much airtime Rachael Ray and her EVOOMGSTFU gets.

So anyway, this woman was making what she called Vanilla Cranberry Can Cakes



What are they? They're blueberry muffin mix without the blueberries and cranberries stirred in, baked in used food cans. Tarted-up used food cans by the time that pic was taken, but used cans all the same.

And she got paid who knows how much to show me this shit on TV.

I feel insane.

Powering Through

Slowly getting better. Still haven't used my vicodin, I think I am going to stick to the copious ibuprofen unless things take a turn for the worse. Yesterday and today both I managed to get out of the house and take a walk around the block, but each time I felt pretty drained on arriving home. But I do feel better overall.

Daytime tv sucks festering balls.

And I'm Back

Surgery went A-OK on Thursday morning, and I came home from the hospital on Saturday morning. For anyone considering major abdominal surgery as a form of entertainment, well I really cannot recommend it. For the gruesome play-by-play, keep reading.

I checked in for surgery Thursday morning, got blood taken, and got hooked up to my first IV line. My surgeon and anesthesiologist both came in to talk to me. Because my parents showed up 40 min early to pick me up, we were doing a lot of thumb-twiddling. I was inspecting my IV line and asking the anesthesia guy if bubbles in the line are normal (apparently they are). I got wheeled over to anesthesia guy (AG) and he puts a sedative in my IV before administering what I think was some kind of spinal block which I would later find out is totally totally awesome. AG tells me I don't have to look as he injects the IV but of course that made me look anyway.

Next thing I know I wake up and think - freaking-A, I hope I'm not still waiting for surgery. I feel faint pressure and hear a kid screaming on the gurney next to me, so I ask "Am I done?" and a nurse chirps "You're done, sweetie!" Then I get wheeled to a room. Yay! No roomies. All for me.

Thanks to Totally Awesome Spinal Stuff, I feel no pain. Thanks to General Anesthesia, I am feeling hella nauseous. Thankfully the nurses got right on putting an anti-nausea thing in my IV. Phew. I cannot imagine that puking at this point would be a Happy Fun Time. My parents come in, and after hanging up clothes for me, putting my bag within reach, and fumbling with the controls on my bed and tv, they figure they can do much less damage elsewhere, so they leave.

I discover that Totally Awesome Spinal Stuff has the unfortunate side effect of making my nose, face, and chest itch like an evil dirty disease. Between this and getting my vitals taken every hour or two by one of a procession of kindly care techs, I'm only able to nap on and off for the next 40 hours or so. Luckily the Pope cancelled our weekend meeting so I had nowhere I had to be.

I get some jello down but am still feeling a bit queasy so I don't risk anymore. Totally Awesome Spinal Stuff is still working, so the rest of the night is spent napping and getting vitals taken. Also, instead of the old-school surgical stockings you used to have to wear to prevent blood clots, I had this contraption wrapped around each of my legs. The best way I can describe it is a shiatsu massager for my legs...a really annoying shiatsu massager that would have made sleep impossible all by itself.

Friday morning comes along, and the nurse takes away all the annoying stuff that is keeping me in bed except for the IV, which she temporarily disconnected so I could try and get out of bed and test my sea legs. I successfully use the bathroom which was one of my criteria for getting my release ok'ed, so that's a plus. And then around 24 hrs after the surgery, that rotten bitch Totally Awesome Spinal Stuff takes off forever, and in her place she has left Indisputable Pain.

I have never been one to complain much about pain - I don't see much point in complaining about it. But after walking around my room a bit, moving stuff in my bag, and my bed tray and lunch tray, my incision informs me that I have tried to do too much. Thankfully the nurses came to the rescue with liquid ibuprofen in my IV, so I never had to be on narcotics at all. I know some people were looking forward to the kinds of crazy I would be able to come up with under the influence of morphine, but alas you will have to settle for my ibuprofen musings.

Saturday morning I get a new nurse, and it turns out she went to my high school and graduated the same year as I did. Crazy small world. I get discharged Saturday and my parents took me to breakfast and then home, where Mom commenced her orgy of cleaning as her way of helping me out. I ended up sending her home on Sunday afternoon, as there wasn't much she could do to make my incision comfortable, and I was getting by ok on my own otherwise.

So far it's been mostly bearable, and a test of my creativity as I figure out new ways to do the basics like getting in and out of bed without using my abdomen. Taking it easy on my midsection means it's been a lot harder on my back, arms, and legs, so they're starting to get sore. I've been using my toes to pick up a lot of things. I was given a scrip for Vicodin which I did fill, but so far have been powering through on copious amounts of OTC ibuprofen. I'm also getting tired pretty easily - I've had one nap today and am thinking about taking another. But from what I hear everywhere this first week is the toughest. I'll be back on hopefully soon if the enforced inactivity starts to bring out the blogging genius in me.

Toodles,
D

My Cats Imbibing Treats

Today I gave the cats some Feline Greenies treats. Even though Guinness is my thin cat and Molly is my chunky monkey, the following is and always has been an accurate depiction of their approaches to the arrival of treats.

Guinness: ZOMG TREATS TREATS OH MAN TREATS FUCKIN' RULE *chompchompsnorf* *gulpchompsnorf* TREATS ARE SO AWESOME THEY ARE TOTALLY THE SHIT *chompsnorfsnorfinhale* BITCH ARE YOU GONNA EAT THOSE TREATS OR WHAT??? (directed at Molly)

Molly: Who am I? What are these? *sniffsniff* Hm, I think I can eat these. *crunchcrunch* Bit hot out today, don't you think? *crunch* What is math? *crunchcrunch* Why do I even care what math is? *crunch* Jigga wha? HEY. (directed at Guinness who has come to commandeer the treats that Molly was too slow to eat because she was pondering math.)

Almost There

So I'm just about 36 hours away from surgery and I cannot wait. Seriously. I would so much rather charge in and make the unknown into the known and be experiencing the road to recovery instead of wondering how it's going to be. Still have a bit more cleaning to do, a load of laundry tomorrow, and then pack my bag and go to my last bellydance class. Mom is coming to stay with me after the surgery and of course I will never get the house as clean as she would have it. Such is the nature of moms.

I'll be back sometime next week hopefully, check y'all later!

A Dream for the Hall of Fame

My favorite dream of all time probably has to be the one where Jimmy Stewart and George Clooney were fighting over me, using Jello and ball point pens as weapons. But the other night I had one that seriously fights for the top spot.

I was at this year's Chicago Marathon, which will be about 4 weeks after my surgery, cheering on a friend of mine who will be running it for the third time this year. I was sitting in a chair on the sidewalk when Fatboy Slim's Weapon of Choice (see the video) starts blasting in the background, so I got up to dance because I love that song. LO AND BEHOLD, who starts dancing right next to me but CHRISTOPHER FREAKING WALKEN. So we danced together (nope, no flying and dancing off the walls though) and at the end of the song, he dipped me, at which point the excitement and the post-op fatigue combined and I passed out. It was totally worth it. Best dream ever.

Peety Sparklies

A couple of months ago, I got back in touch with some friends from high school, some of whom I seriously had not talked to in 18 years. Really sad how time gets away from us. But I'm happy to say we've rediscovered our friendships, and one of the fine ladies has proven to have exceptional talent in designing and creating beautiful jewelry using Swarovski crystals and sterling silver. I've bought several pieces from her now and I love them all. Constantly get compliments on them too. She's got a website up now, so check it out. She also does shows around the Chicagoland area and in a few other states as well, her show schedule is on the website.

Here's to you, Mel! Beadazzle Jewelry

Two Weeks

So, two weeks from today I go in for the first major surgery of my life. Since finding out I need this surgery I haven't been scared nearly as much as pissed off. Granted, when I read about being on a ventilator I got a little oogy-feeling, and yesterday I went to the hospital for a blood test and looked around realizing that this is where I was going to be getting my slice-and-dice. A bit unsettling.

But mostly I'm just pissed off. It's a bad time to leave work, even though at this time I only have scheduled 7 days off of work. Thankfully I can start working at home quite soon, but from what my doctor said and reading other women's accounts on the web, it seems like fatigue is going to be plaguing me for a few weeks if not a couple of months.

I can't do full-on exercise for probably 4-6 weeks, and if you had told me even 3 years ago that I would be pissed off at not being able to work out, I would have spit my triple chocolate cupcakes in your face and laughed my ass off. I feel like I finally got my shit together and started a good and consistent workout regime, and God said "NO! You will have a tumor instead!" *flings down benign tumor in my path for effect* At any rate, all I can do is tell myself that the forced inactivity will make me doubly recommitted when I can be active again.

I know I should be grateful that things aren't worse. I know there are people who would kill to be sniping over relatively unimportant crap like I'm doing. This is just a pretty big gear-stripping for me, when I've been healthy and independent most of my life (my adult life anyway) and now I'll be temporarily incapacitated and will need to accept people's help. It's just a really weird change for me. But I do know it could be worse.

I thought about starting a separate blog to talk about my condition, my surgery, and the post-op experience, if for no other reason than a writer (and by that I only mean someone who likes to write) can get a story out of her own experiences. I still might do it, and maybe it will get some Google hits and help some women out there looking for accounts of what they might have to go through themselves.

Scary Black People Made Me Gay

Well, they didn't make ME gay, since I'm straight, have been scared of very few of the black people I've encountered, and even the ones who might have frightened me did so on general weirdness and not anything to do with being black. Also, none of it was enough to get me to switch teams.

But alas, poor Bob Allen is not as strong as me.

In a nutshell:

TITUSVILLE - State Rep. Bob Allen told police he was just playing along when a undercover officer suggested in a public restroom that the legislator give him oral sex and $20 because he was intimidated, according to a taped statement and other documents released Thursday.

This happened because:

"I certainly wasn't there to have sex with anybody and certainly wasn't there to exchange money for it," said Allen, R-Merritt Island, who was arrested on charges of soliciting prostitution.

"This was a pretty stocky black guy, and there was nothing but other black guys around in the park," Allen, who is white, told police in a taped statement after his arrest. Allen said he feared he "was about to be a statistic" and would have said anything just to get away.

So of course the first thing you do when you're about to be forcibly engulfed by the Big Gay Black Juggernaut is to go into the nearest public bathroom where you could be cornered more easily. The sheer terror and stress of the situation apparently led to:

In a written statement released Thursday, Titusville Officer Danny Kavanaugh recalled entering the restroom twice and said he was drying his hands in a stall when Allen peered over the stall door.

After peering over the stall a second time, Allen pushed open the door and joined Kavanaugh inside, the officer wrote. Allen muttered " 'hi,' " and then said, " 'this is kind of a public place, isn't it,' " the report said.

The officer said he asked Allen about going somewhere else and that the legislator suggested going "across the bridge, it's quieter over there."

"Well look, man, I'm trying to make some money; you think you can hook me up with 20 bucks?" Kavanaugh asked Allen.

The officer said Allen responded, "Sure, I can do that, but this place is too public."

Then Kavanaugh said he told Allen, "I wanna know what I gotta do for 20 bucks before we leave.' " He said Allen replied: "I don't know what you're into."

According to Kavanaugh's statement, the officer said, "do you want just [oral sex]?" and Allen replied, "I was thinking you would want one."

The officer said he then asked Allen, "but you'll still give me the 20 bucks for that . . . and that the legislator said, "yeah, I wouldn't argue with that."

As Allen turned and motioned for the officer to follow him to his car, Kavanaugh identified himself as a police officer by raising his shirt and exposing his badge.

And my very favorite morsel of the story:

When Allen was being placed in a marked patrol car, he asked whether "it would help" if he was a state legislator, according to a police report. The officer replied, "No."

But the piece de resistance has to be:

Bob Allen has sponsored legislation that toughened penalties for lewd or lascivious conduct.

If Karl Rove could have gone out on this note, that would have been a great juicy helping of awesome but I'll take what I can get.

Further Observed

In the news: Karl Rove is quitting. What bullshit. If anyone shouldn't get to leave their job on their own terms, it's this scum-sucking, eerily-uniformly-flesh-toned, dirty-rat-bastard cyborg. At the very least I wanted a Mark Foley-esque exit for Rove if not a full-on "Money's on the dresser, Chocolate" moment.

Again in the yarn store: 100% bamboo yarn, which is actually more slippery than Michael Jackson in the hands of prosecution. Really curious to see how it is to work with. The yarn, not Michael Jackson or his prosecutors.

Tables turned: My best friend has decreed that I can no longer tell her what TV shows to watch after losing IQ points to The Two Coreys. She acknowledged that this was my revenge for her recommending Not Another Teen Movie, over which I nearly sued her ass for mental anguish, emotional distress, the 2 hrs of my life I can never get back, and the $3.95 rental fee.

Observed

Today in the Borders cafe: a very white man in a Green Bay Packers cap, reading Uncle Tom's Cabin with all the diligent concentration of a man defusing a bomb. Seriously, the book was 3 inches away from his nose.

On reality tv: I don't remember the channel or the name of the show, but apparently it's Wife Swap with hair stylists. The show caught my eye because the guide info said one of the people was in Gurnee which is very close to me, so I decided to see where they were filming. Apparently this salon requires Bible study during the workday for their employees? Whatever bakes their Eucharist bread I suppose, but I think I'll stick with my trusty stylist for the foreseeable future.

In my knitting group: A woman who can knit lightning-fast without even looking at her needles. I seriously envy her.

In my new favorite yarn store: a 50/50 blend yarn of soy (that's right, soy) silk and wool for 50% off. It feels really nice and has beautiful purples/blues/greens/tans running through it. It's from South West Trading Company and they have quite a few alternative fiber and alternative fiber blends including bamboo, milk protein, and hemp in addition to the soy silk.

Very Odds and Ends

The Bourne Ultimatum. It was ok. Good action, plus Matt Damon is so tasty and delicious I might not have to eat for weeks after a Bourne marathon. However, I have only read half of The Bourne Identity and I'm fairly sure there was reasoning behind Damon's character agreeing to become Jason Bourne, and the movie didn't touch on it at all, which kind of left the impression that he was just a pointless, thoughtless mook who agreed to become this killing machine.

Clowns are still fuckers. I was flipping channels the other day, and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban was on, which is the third film installment in the franchise that made J.K. Rowling richer than the Queen and Davy Crockett combined. In the scene I was watching, the students confront a shape-shifter that takes on the shape of whatever your deepest fear is. The trick to defeating this thing is to think of how to make the fearsome look ridiculous, and then cast the proper spell. So this one girl steps up to the plate, and the boggart (shape-shifter) turns into a mummy or something. She casts her spell and the damn thing turns into a SEVEN-FOOT CLOWN. HELLO??!?!??!?!?! That's a bazillion times worse than a well-preserved corpse in need of new gauze. WTF???

In other clowns-are-fuckers news, I also saw the Krusty the Clown Burger King commercial that shows both Krusty and an animated version of that unbelievably creepy Burger King character. I couldn't decide which was worse.

Sweet pathetic reality TV and the validation of self. So this weekend I also discovered a horrific trainwreck of epic proportion - The Two Coreys. Who are the Two Coreys? Corey Haim and Corey Feldman of course, who rose to meteoric (a really sluggish, cold meteor) fame in the 80's thanks to the film The Lost Boys.

Both Coreys are about 35 now. Feldman is gainfully employed and married with a nice house and a cute dog. Haim is unemployed and appears to have stopped maturing mentally just around the original premiere of The Lost Boys, 20 years ago. He is basically a hot steaming mess. Haim moves in with Feldman and his wife and the Madcap High Jinks Train leaves the depot.

I told John about this show and we both agreed that we would have expected Feldman to turn out the worse of the Two Coreys. I am wondering if this is because Feldman was the less conventionally attractive Corey back in the day, i.e. people tend to associate good looks with good fortune. To both our credits though, Feldman did have that weird Michael Jackson wannabe phase to live down as well. In any case, we both turned out to be wrong and Haim is the pungent mess that we would have been more inclined to expect of Feldman.

It all adds up to a jaw-dropping, fetal-position-inducing spectacle that is only honed to a razor edge by the addition of Feldman's wife, she of the suspiciously buoyant breasts and tears flowing in support of PETA. It's horrific. It's awkward. And I fully admit that it makes me a lesser person when I admit that this trainwreck makes me feel better about myself. Sometimes you gotta do what you can to cope.

Hi, My Name is Donna, and I'm a Book Whore (all together - "Hi, Donna")

I've been a book whore since I was a little kid. I am the only child of Korean immigrants and thankfully we weren't poor, so they could afford to indulge me in the area of their choice. My parents were no different from the stereotypical Asian parents in that they wanted me to succeed academically (especially since it was clear from an early age that I had the motor skills of a tranquilized elephant) so that area was always books. I could ask for any book I wanted and my parents would buy it for me, which, combined with their lack of knowledge of American popular fiction, led to my trying to read Stephen King's Carrie in fifth grade and being so scared I had to throw the book away.

Tales of telekinetic horror aside, I have always loved having books. In the bookstore, I'll dig through the stacks of books to get at the copy two or three layers back which I assure myself that fewer people have touched and whose cover is usually in better condition than the topmost, heavily molested copy. New books give me a mild contact high, but I have old much-loved books that have been re-read again and again. I am just plain easy when it comes to books.

I go through phases of being good and steering clear of bookstores and Amazon.com. Usually books are cheaper at Amazon so I'll just order what I need from there. However, I love being in a bookstore so much that I'll sometimes give in and buy from there, especially when they tempt me with the occasional 3-for-2 sale.

I justified today's Borders excursion with the fact that I'm facing abdominal surgery next month with a 4-6 week recovery period, so I'ma get me some books. (Meanwhile I had to beat the crap out of the Voice of Reason within that reminded me that I have a pile of unread books still waiting for me.)

Laura was kind enough to lend me these two (oops, three!):
Lamb, the Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal
The Stupidest Angel, A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror
Lakota Woman

And at Borders I picked up these at the 3-for-2 sale:
Reading Lolita in Tehran
The Memory Keeper's Daughter
Saturday

I went looking for cillic's recommendations but didn't find most of them. I did already have A History of God in my unread books pile so hopefully that will get read soon. I also want to finish Barack Obama's The Audacity of Hope, which I'm about halfway through.

And I'm looking forward to these when they come out in paperback:
It's Not News, It's Fark: How Mass Media Tries to Pass Off Crap As News
A Thousand Splendid Suns

Running Out of Tacky

So Laura and I were talking today, and I invited them up to my neck of the woods and noted that I could give them directions that would take them past the local Tacky Spectacle, the Onan Pyramid House. Now I am quite sure I showed this phenomenon to Laura when she visited a couple years ago, but I can hardly blame her for blocking it out. It is a spectacle both dazzling and underwhelmingly peculiar to behold.

It is, for lack of a better term, an "Egyptian compound" complete with pyramid, 50-foot Tut statue, hieroglyphics on the walls surrounding the compound, and if my memory doesn't completely fail me, a metal palm tree. All planted smack-dab in the midst of the lush cornfields of Gurnee, IL. Basically, it is what would happen if Britney Spears and the Luxor had a baby. Do you ever worry about the day when the universe could run out of Tacky? No, I don't either, but I have never had to worry about that possibility, seeing as how I've known about the Onan Pyramid House for years.

Move over, Liberace, (credit to Laura) because Tacky's got a brand new (or, decades-old) bag.

Book Recommendations, Please!

So I am scheduled for surgery after Labor Day (not RIGHT after Labor Day, I trust my doc but still a bit wary of the post-holiday blues) and I will need books to read while I recuperate. Please post your recommendations in the comments!

Thanks!
D

Update

Yay! The unrelated issue that I had to go to a follow-up for yesterday has turned out to be ok, which I'm very thankful for as it could have been seriously scary. Now I just have to get the first issue resolved, which will involve surgery but at this point, now that I know I have to do it, I just want to get it over with. Thanks all so much for the positive health energy!

Ugh

Well, the health issue thing has turned out to be an issue that I have to do something about, and I also got a callback about an unrelated issue that hopefully will turn out to not be an issue. R and you other kids know who you are, thanks for the positive energy, please keep it coming. I'm not used to asking for help but I could use some healthy energy if you have it to spare.

Thanks!!!
D

Weekend et al

Bellydancing is still going swimmingly even though my cats think my jingly hip scarf is the embodiment of insensate evil. I picked up a new instructional dvd by Amira which I already love because it has an intro that shows women of all shapes, sizes, and ages gettin' their bellydance on. Very cool.

Had a good weekend - Saturday was a reunion of sorts with a very good friend which included my getting to see Ratatouille again (still love that rat!) and then a great great night for Ravinia. Beautiful weather although we left at intermission because it got too cold when the sun went down. Which is kind of an odd blessing for the middle of July!

Sunday I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows All. Freaking. Day. I was quite pleased with this final installment of the Harry Potter series, much more so than I was with the previous two books in the series. I won't write any spoilers but I think most fans will be pleased (and hopefully they will all leave J.K. Rowling in peace).

I got some slightly disconcerting news in the health department today which I have yet to discuss with my doctor so it still may mean nothing for the time being, but please cross your fingers for me if you could.

Cheers,
me

Harry Potter and the Order of the Kleenex, or Of Course They Blamed it on the Asian

So John and I went to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, the fifth movie adaptation of the books that turned J.K. Rowling into an eleventy-bozillionaire. We got there early enough to have to wait in line for a few minutes while the previous show finished up, and spent the time amusing ourselves and the girl behind us with various unlikely speculation as to how the series will end. (John still thinks Ron Weasley will come out of the closet - I doubt that but we both agree on the fact that Ginny Weasley's been around the block a time or twelve, that filthy minx.)

So, the movie. My official one-word review - Meh.

If you haven't read the books before and plan to, stop reading here.

It was ok, not bad, not great. The book was so ridiculously long that it was necessary to leave big hunks out of the movie. John accurately predicted that they would gloss over Harry's seriously whiny teen angstiness - which actually, although I was relieved because whining sucks, I think it does help make Harry a little more human and understandable.

Surprise, surprise, the Narco Polo responsible for the downfall of Dumbledore's Army turns out to be the lone Asian (for whom Harry was also experiencing Asian jungle fever) and not the Caucasian girl who gets blamed in the book. I didn't see any black characters even getting enough screen time to be identified by name, so the next best thing when you need a patsy is the Asian I suppose.

Luna and Neville were excellent. Ron and Hermione seem to be getting reduced to the respective roles of bumbling sidekick and earnest not-so-nerdy-anymore-because-in-movies-girls-must-be-pretty sidekick.

The Dumbledore/Voldemort showdown was way too Star Wars for my taste, right down to the color of the light shooting from their light sabers - I mean, wands. It's not bad enough that Stephen King had to eviscerate his own Dark Tower series by ripping off Harry Potter, but now Harry Potter is ripping off Star Wars? (Although that would make Harry the whinybitch who doesn't give into the Dark Side)

I saw several people leaving the theatre with tears in their eyes - presumably because of Sirius dying (told you not to keep reading if you haven't read the books) but for some reason that didn't affect me at all - probably because I have never really liked the Sirius Black character. It always seemed to me in both the books and the movies that he encouraged Harry to be "cool" and take risks instead of being smart. But at the same time, that makes his character more interesting than a do-gooder godfather who would advise Harry to stick to the straight and narrow and maybe not take enough risks in the end.

The actress who played Dolores Umbridge was really good, however I don't feel like the character itself was as evil and provoking as she was in the book, which was a shame. The actress really did a good job with what she was given though.

Seriously, what's with Dumbledore and the beret he wears? I miss Richard Harris if only for his pointy wizard's hat.

In other news, I got a jingly hip scarf which I love because it's all purply-blue (my favorite color) with jingly silver coins. My cats are highly suspicious of it, however.

Seismic Disturbances is Fun!

So I had my first bellydancing class (finally! the crowd says) last night and I LOVED it. Yes, at times I felt like a stumbling elephant on crack but for the most part it was really fun and let me just say again for all of you - that shit is hard work. I was mostly ok with the simple footwork we were shown but when you combine it with trying to keep your posture and then do crazy stuff with your hips, well, let's just say I have room for improvement. There was one hip move where you basically act like you're shutting a car door using just your hip (like when your hands are full) or you're hip-checking someone out of your way. Which I can TOTALLY relate to. I want to get a jingly hip scarf - it's funny how the one the instructor was wearing really helped accentuate what she was doing.

Heathen, if you're reading, email me cuz I got questions for you!

Anyone else, if you have the chance to take a class like this, please do it, it's a lot of fun and good for you too!

ETA: Strangely enough, there was this little house across from the dance studio that was painted to look like the American flag. Not just one wall. THE ENTIRE HOUSE. Yeah.

Double Standards Suck

I was watching a bit of the Live Earth concerts, and saw this group called Fall Out Boy. Now, I've never seen them or heard their music before, but I have heard of their existence, so they're probably enjoying significant success if I've heard of them (I hardly recognize anyone on the radio these days).

The lead singer (on this particular song anyway) forcibly reminded me of the ridiculous double standard in entertainment and especially (I think) in music between men and women. Here is a man who had not one, not two, but ALL of the following:

• a blue gingham train conductor/trucker hat
• a mullet
• WITH sideburns
• a pasty pasty pasty white complexion
  
• what I can only describe as a very healthy pair of breasts or an amazingly ill-fitting leather jacket (or both)
  

Which is totally fine if you have talent and the moxie to be an entertainer. I seem to recall he had a few dental issues as well. Peachy. Seriously. If he can sing, who cares, right?

Except if you put a female singer in the public eye who was such a hot mess on the outside, what chance would she really have to succeed as an artist, no matter how well she can sing and entertain? Sure there are some women who have done so, but they are few and far between, especially these days where talent has largely been replaced by T&A when it comes to women entertainers. Conventionally attractive plus sexy is what sells for female artists and I think that's so so sad. Especially considering how our culture can't seem to stomach sexuality anywhere else, but our female entertainers better be sexy above everything.

What kind of message is that for young girls? Eating disorders are already practically pandemic amongst teenage girls, but not only do you have to be thin and pretty as a rule, if you have talent without looks, your talent means just about squat. Sex sells but for GOD'S SAKE DON'T BE THINKING ABOUT SEX. And we wonder why kids seem to be so messed up.

Baby Penguins, Sea Otters, and Sweat

So after I can't remember how many years, I managed to get back to the Shedd Aquarium on Saturday with Laura, both of us sucked in by the announcement of baby penguins joining the penguin exhibit. I have no idea why, but I have loved penguins since Chilly Willy. They're such funny, strangely engineered animals, but so dignified at the same time. When they make it up out of the water in one jump, that is.

Here is one of the babies (according to the article in the Tribune, two babies were brought before the public this week, there is a third baby that is still too young to come out and say hi) kind of squished under the penguin in the center. With low lighting and motion, I couldn't get too many good pictures but I did get a few.


The sea otters were moving way too fast for me to get a picture. So I got one of my own to take home - I decided his name is Jeffrey. Don't ask me why. It just popped into my head and stuck.


Chameleon


Homegrown Coral


Giant Japanese Spider Crab. Eep.


Overall, a really good trip - animals just make me happy for some reason, even the ones that squick me out like giant spider crabs and fish with whiskers. (No, I don't know why fish with whiskers freak me out but they do - it's like they couldn't decide what to be.)

This morning I went hiking on the Des Plaines River Trail. I'm embarrassed to say that I can get on the trail quite close to my house - it's about a 5 min drive - but I just never did before (although I've been on the DPR Trail farther south years and years ago) But I went today and headed north - I didn't quite make it to the top of the trail but I almost did, so I went about 8.5 - 9 miles round trip. And yes, I was sweating in spectacular fashion especially towards the end where there was little shade and lots of sun. But it felt really good and peaceful to just be in nature (even if you can occasionally hear the cars on nearby roads) and walk and get some perspective on things.

View from the trail near my house


A good bit of the trail was in the shade like this portion, which was really nice


Sterling Lake


Luckily, I had the foresight to wear a baseball cap to protect my blackbody hair from setting my brain on fire. Unfortunately, I was largely still asleep when I started out and forgot to put on sunscreen, I'm not burnt but my shoulders are a teeny bit warm. I seem to have successfully dodged the dead sexy sock tan line, though.

So having hoofed 8.5-9 miles this morning, I feel completely guiltless about spending the rest of the day finally catching up on all the episodes of the FX series The Riches that I've missed. Due to DVR issues, I was completely missing 3 episodes but managed to download them from Amazon, and I have the remaining 4 episodes on my new DVR.

Toodles!
D

STFU Already!

I imagine this is what my 7 readers are thinking, as I feel I've been excessively bloggy lately. Blame a slow work week and the need to keep my fingers in fighting (typing?) trim.

It's been a pretty good holiday week, everyone seems to have blown town for the whole week as traffic's been nonexistent, even going into Chicago yesterday there was hardly anyone on the road. I had a tasty and fun brunch with some friends (which was admittedly harder to get than we expected due to some places being closed for the 4th) and then saw Transformers with John and Laura. I really thought it was quite fun and wasn't taking itself too seriously until a certain "You're a soldier now!" moment that could have been served on a nice Triscuit with wine. Wine out of a box. Anyway, I still had a better time than I did at I, Robot. But then again I have better times at dental cleanings than I did at I, Robot.

I saw this bumper sticker on the road yesterday and thought it was quite cool.

From xpressyourview.com:
This unique image shows the interdependence of man, woman and the major religions of the world, in capturing the positive life-sustaining messages of coexistence and peace.

The symbols include the Muslim Crescent and Five Pointed Star, a Peace Sign, Man & Women, the Jewish Star of David, Baha'i Star, Taoist Yin Yang and the Christian Cross.

I googled it and found there's a few logos similar to this but this is the one I saw yesterday and like the best out of the ones I've seen.

I saw this article this morning - Orgasm clip spices up EU meeting - and was thinking that although there is apparently some controversy over this, how much it would pale in comparison to the grand mal hissyfit that would ensue if any American body of anything were to do something similar. Granted, this was on youtube and not network tv, but it just served to remind me how ridiculous Americans are about sex. If you have genitalia, odds are you're going to figure out what they're used for, and no amount of positioning (sorry for the pun) sex as hush-hush-evil is going to change that. Gods forbid we teach our children what our bodies do and how to do it safely.

Bush's Banana Republic

I think I made the comment a while back when Harriet Miers (who??? exactly) was the then-Bush nominee for the Supreme Court, that getting a cushy job in the Bush Administration is apparently no harder than getting a gig at the Gap or at Banana Republic - your only qualification being that you gotta be one of Bush's pals.

Apparently the same holds true for getting out of a prison sentence that you actually deserve. Now that Bush has commuted the prison sentence of goodbuddy Scooter Libby, the Banana Republic comparison makes even more sense to me, both in terms of the blatant cronyism that seems to be the sole ticket for gaining entrance to this particular Banana Republic, and the actual original meaning of "banana republic"

(from wikipedia.org)
"Banana republic is a pejorative term for a small, often Latin American or Caribbean country that is politically unstable, dependent on limited agriculture, and ruled by a small, self-elected, wealthy and corrupt clique"

ETA: Paris Hilton served more jail time than Scooter Libby. I'm not sure I can think of a more depressing commentary on our times than that.

Simple Pleasures

This weekend I went to visit my parents at their new house, and just as I got out of the car, the little girl next door successfully rode her bike on her own without training wheels. Her dad was whooping and cheering and I started clapping just because the moment was so great in its sheer uncomplicated euphoria. It just seems that the older we get, the less often we get to experience (or perhaps sadly enough we just don't even notice) those moments of simple happiness and accomplishment.

Hopefully I will experience one of these moments in bellydancing class, although I expect it's more likely that I will find I have the grace, dexterity, and balance of a drunken one-legged elephant with severe joint inflammation. The class very nearly got derailed due to a request I got today to fly out to California for a two-day meeting for work, the second day of which would have been the first day of class. I figure if I miss the first day of class, I might as well cancel the whole thing, so I asked management if I couldn't teleconference in and luckily they agreed. (although I'm sure they are glad to save the airfare and hotel as well.) So Wayne Brady won't have to choke a bitch, although he may want to take protective cover when I learn how to properly shake what the Good Lord gave me.

I dropped the last M&M out of the packet I was eating after lunch. Probably the cosmos' way of telling me I've had quite enough of that particular simple pleasure.

Food should be a simple pleasure, but setting out to taste EVERYTHING at the Taste of Chicago seems a bit excessive to me. And nauseating. Of course, the Taste (for me) brings back only memories of being stuck between large hairy sweaty men clutching giant turkey legs. If you want to interpret that as a subconscious fear of caveman male mentality, go ahead, all I can tell you is that it was freaking gross.

Sports and Sociology, or Who the Hell Voted for Barry Bonds for the All-Star Game?

Now, let me say right off the bat that I don't profess to be an expert in either sports or sociology. I observe the workings of both periodically, and make my own opinions on them as I do on any other subject.

Quite a few people I know, men as well as women, just don't see the point of professional sports. Why should I care, they say, about some guy who's getting paid a bozillion times more than me to run around a playing field and follow some rules? What's the big deal? What's the point? And I think that's an absolutely valid and fair position to take. Some care, some don't. That's life.

For me, sports has been one of the great levelers, or to put it in more pessimistic terms, one of our society's lowest common denominators. It's like the weather. It's something to talk about, something that for the most part is less polarizing than say, religion or politics. In my mind, it's also a less dangerous topic than religion or politics, in that you just don't need to pay THAT much attention in order to have a valid conversation about it. I say "in my mind", knowing full well that millions of people a day have completely uninformed and uneducated discussions about religion and politics. But I believe these kinds of conversation only lead to propagation of error and more confusion and divisiveness and intolerance in those arenas. With sports conversations, hopefully the worst thing that can happen is you teach someone else to hate the Yankees. And that's ok, in my opinion.

Sitting in a ballpark, and looking down a row of seats, you see young and old, men and women, chubby and skinny, all races, all religions, all occupations, all political, sexual, or philosophical persuasions. All together to enjoy a (hopefully) good ball game. It's really quite comforting in a largely uncomfortable world.

Being an only child, sports was something I could bond with my dad about, since I didn't want to learn how to play golf, I could watch the Cubbies and the Bears with him and learn things from hm and cheer or commiserate with him. And we still do that to this day. We don't necessarily understand or share each other's inner thoughts and dreams, but we can always have a good time watching a game. I suppose you could call it superficial, but sharing something like that with my dad, however "fluffy" it might be, still has a lot of value to me.

Sports also (for the most part) carries less ambiguity than religion or politics. Sure, there's calls you can debate and plays you second-guess, but for the most part, the rules are the rules and you want your team to win fair and square. In sports, as in politics, people hate a cheater.

Which is why I am absolutely baffled at fans voting Barry Bonds to a starting spot in the All-Star Game. I seriously cannot comprehend actively supporting a player who is a known cheater. Bonds can deny using performance-enhancing drugs until he's blue in his great big steroid-puffed face. It's my opinion based on what I've read and seen that the man is a blight on the face of baseball today.


Barry Bonds before and after um, NOT taking performance-enhancing drugs.
For God's sake, his HEAD is deformed now it's so huge

I've read opinions that it goes back to the league allowing the World Series to be cancelled in 1994, and the one thing that really brought burned fans back to the stands is the freakish output of home runs by players like Mark ("What the... is he CRYING? There's no CRYING in baseball!") McGwire and Sammy Sosa and now Barry Bonds. Well, yes, I think this is true. But I also think that with the fan base that the sport has in this country and throughout the world, fans would have come back to see their teams play and win. Crushing a ball out of the park is great and amusing and fun and all, but take it from a Cubs fan who's accustomed to the bitter taste of defeat, I would have traded all Sosa's home runs for winning seasons and playoff berths. Unless the other team just doesn't show up, you can't win on home runs alone.

So, my (perhaps naive) opinion of sports as a leveler, as something that could connect and unite people who might not otherwise find themselves united, occasionally takes a hit in times like this. Because in sports, as in politics, as in LIFE for that matter, I find it hard to understand how my fellow man can back a cheater. I just have to keep reminding myself that it takes all kinds. Even the kinds that will love Barry Bonds.

Editor's Note: Please do not take this post as sour grapes over Bonds beating out Soriano in the balloting. The Cubs could be the entire NL All-Star roster and I would still consider Bonds a boil on the butt of baseball.

A Welcome Pick-Me-Up

Yesterday I went with Laura and John to see Ratatouille. Now, for some reason, I always see the trailers for Pixar films months in advance and think "That looks silly" and then I end up loving the film. Ratatouille was no exception. Remy has got to be the freaking cutest rat ever (that may not be saying much in the context of real live rats but he was adorable.)



In the range of Pixar films, I think Ratatouille will be tied for my 2nd favorite next to Finding Nemo and behind Monsters, Inc. Just really sweet and clever and fun, and damn do those Pixar folk have the fur and hair animation down to a fine art. Quite a welcome pick-me-up.

I also hit a yarn store with Laura and picked up some Noro Silk Garden Lite yarn (which is a beautiful silk/mohair/wool variegated yarn - basically if I had porno fantasies about yarn, Noro would be in there every time.) I'm planning to make this scarf with it. It's surprisingly not too difficult a pattern, it's quite repetitive, but easy to screw up if you were dopey like me and tried to do the pattern without a row counter because I ended up skipping a duplicated row and part of the scarf was backwards. (Luckily that was just practice anyway.)



Toodles for now,
D

Cracked Heart

Why is the right thing to do almost never an easy thing to do?

I know I never do this, but I could use some hugs from my 7 readers.

Douchebags du Jour

The world is full of douchebags. These are the first two that came to my attention today.

Premium catch of a man hates fatties and poor people.

Please let me elect a stupid cruel asshat to run the country. Again.

ETA: On a happier note, so NOT a douchebag:

Rahm Emanuel calls shenanigans on Darth Cheney

(Emanuel's not the douchebag. Darth Cheney TOTALLY is a douchebag.)

Road Trip

This weekend I took a road trip with a friend to his hometown of Traverse City, Michigan, which is in the northwestern part of the state off Lake Michigan. The only part of Michigan I'd seen before this trip was eastern Michigan near Ann Arbor, so this was new to me. It was about a 6 hr drive from my house - not too horrible but that's easier to say when I didn't have to do the driving.

There are some really gorgeous views of the lake and hills in that area (yes, living in Illinois I am easily impressed by real hills) and I got to go down to the beach and stick my feet in the water for a bit. We also got to check out the winery at Black Star Farms in Suttons Bay - the wines seemed a bit strong to all of us but the Raclette cheese was quite tasty. All in all a really nice weekend, replete with embarrassing childhood stories about my friend and general abuse of said friend.

In other news, I start my bellydancing class 2 weeks from Thursday. I would bring a webcam so you all could see the glory of the seismic event that will be my ass shaking, except I know at least 3 of you bastards would put that crap up on youtube within seconds.

Oil Spill, or What Americans Will Incomprehensibly Do to Avoid Exercising

A friend sent me this hilarious link regarding the new FDA-approved diet pill, alli, which apparently is a half dose of Xenical. Xenical would be the prescription weight loss pill whose greatest gift to the world was billed as "oily anal leakage". Anyway, read the link, it is priceless. I knew I missed the boat in college when I didn't major in "Bilking Silly Americans Out of a Freaking Fortune Using the Weight Loss Industry."

Atheist Goats, Polytheistic Elephants, and the Question of Cross-Species Breeding

My peregrinations around the internet led me to this site which, if they're serious, and I expect they are, I don't think that we'd get along well, seeing as how they'd want to shove Jesus down my throat, and I personally would rather wait till the third date, at least. Editor's Note: Thankfully it seems to be a spoof!

However, they have some of the best t-shirts for sale that I've ever seen, including my new personal favorite:



Joining Mr. Gruff in the confused unwashed masses of the heathens is Habu, the polytheistic elephant who could save himself (herself?) a lot of headaches if s/he would just ask about the big JC.

I also noticed a strangely isolated bit of openmindedness among the starring characters on the website:

"Lambuel is a lamb who is devoted to God and knows that Jesus loves him a whole bunch! He likes going to Church, witnessing on the street corner to passersby, and having adventures in Faith with all his friends!"

and

"Ruby is a lioness who goes to the same Christian elementary school as Lambuel. She thinks Lambuel is cute and wants to marry him one day! She prays she will grow up to be a virtuous, God-fearing woman and earn Lambuel's Luv!"

Here's Lambuel. And here's Ruby

Now I may be as lax a Christian as they come, but even I know cross-species breeding is frowned upon. Also, it's spelled "love" not "luv". It's right there in the Bible.

---

An afterword/commentary between John and myself:
Donna: did you know the Christians condoned cross-species breeding?
John: i just can't believe you missed the Chuck Norris banner on the home page
Donna: that site is chockfull of wonders and treasures - I couldn't capture it all
John: Christianity should be in the home, and the dojo
Donna: Jesus is the only one who ever made Chuck Norris back down
John: a three way battle-royale between Jesus, Chuck Norris and the Hoff? Who would win?
Donna: today?
John: this very minute
Donna: today the Hoff would lose almost instantly b/c of all the drunken - well maybe he could do drunken boxing?
John: even sobriety can't beat the Hoff
Donna: but Chuck Norris and Jesus can
John: That was how the last Big Bang occurred
John: they all threw a punch at the same time
Donna: don't start that - the Hoff is already still all wound up about not getting credit for the Berlin Wall coming down
John: every German loves the Hoff, and that's what united them above all.
Donna: that and his piano key scarf

Izzard/Stewart Sandwiches and the Decline of Society

Last week Eddie Izzard was a guest on the Daily Show. Eddie Izzard and Jon Stewart. If I were to be convinced to do a threesome, this would be one of the first combos to try out on me.

In other news, Paris Hilton had to go back to the pokey. B. o. o. h. o. o. Seriously, if you wanted to look at this in a purely financial, profit-maximizing light, (which I wouldn't but I'm sure the Hiltons would) she should have shut her yap, served her time, and made a giant contribution to MADD or some similar organization and at least pretend that she comprehends the potential consequences of a DUI. Instead, we have a 25+ yr old screaming for her mommy in the courtroom. And if you're like me and don't want to contribute to the Hiltons' vacuousness ever again, here's the hotels in the Hilton Hotel Group. I hate that I spent that much time talking about Paris Hilton, but I really think she is a sad icon of what's wrong with the world today. Talent and laws just don't matter as long as you're rich, thin, and your legs spread like room temperature butter.

An Unfortunate, Unintentional Event, or How I Infect People with Alan Keyes

So Laura and I were talking today about a relatively unimportant subject, when I accidentally infected her with Alan Keyes.

Creme de la Commie: too bad your cuz isn't still living with you, you could take her with and leave her as a gift
Donna: that would just be a gift to me, no one else
Creme de la Commie: a gift, nonetheless
Donna: nah, a gift like that should be reserved for someone like Alan Keyes
Creme de la Commie: true
Donna: i wonder what he's up to now
Donna: no
Donna: no i guess i really don't
Creme de la Commie: I forgot he existed until you brought him up
Donna: shit
Donna: sorry
Creme de la Commie: it's ok
Creme de la Commie: it's probably best to keep one eye half on people like him

So unfortunately, this led me on a Google search to see what Alan Keyes really is up to, or if he's just holed up in a bunker somewhere waiting for Jesus to tell him who JC's voting for in 2008.

Alan Keyes is still a nutjob.

And really that's all I want to say about that. Except for

Donna: I should blog about how I infect people with Alan Keyes
Creme de la Commie: You do... totally
Creme de la Commie: whenever I see you, I think "What's Alan Keyes up to"

And now my other 7 readers will too. I'm sorry. I truly am.

Stream of Consciousness

Seriously, the TB idiot's story still makes no sense to me. Now he's not even really married? Something stinks in the state of Denmark, but then again, it usually does around personal-injury lawyers.

Yesterday I got to see a bunch of people I went to high school with. It's so funny how we all look and act the same after 18 years. Ugh. Did I say 18 years? Anyway it was really good to see everyone.

I'm signed up for the bellydancing class at CLC. I would have liked to do the beginner yoga class as well but it conflicts timewise with the bellydancing and I doubt I'm ready for an intermediate yoga class. It starts July 12. In the meantime I got a bellydance instruction DVD to try and familiarize myself with some moves, and I am here to tell you folks, that shit is hard. I was fine doing circles with my hips, but then the freak bellydancing lady wanted me to do circles with my hips followed by circles with my pelvis followed by circles with my chest. My body just doesn't do things like that. Not yet anyway.

A Democratic Presidential candidate debate is on CNN right now and Wolf Blitzer seems to be moderating. This has to be giving him such a hard-on after so many fruitless soul-sucking months of covering JonBenet Ramsey leads and Anna Nicole Smith. Then again, (although I certainly agree with Democrats more than I'll ever agree with Republicans) it's quite possible that a sizable group of Democrats has the collective power to deflate any erection.

May is Mullet Month?

Hockey hair returns for overtime

ADRIANA BARTON

VANCOUVER -- It may be the most reviled hairstyle on earth, but a cadre of shaggy-haired Vancouverites is determined to help the mullet make a comeback.Friends Ben Besler and Caleb Weitzel, both 29, have declared May "mullet month" in Vancouver. They've teamed up with 26-year-old hairstylist Vanessa Greenidge of Knotty Boy salon in East Vancouver. She is offering a $25 special on mullet haircuts all month and challenging other hairstylists to do the same.

I'm not sure which is worse, the idea of a Mullet Month (complete with Mullet festivities? A Mullet Parade? Mullet-shearing contests? Chocolate mullet sculptures?) or the highway robbery of charging $25 for a mullet. It's not even a full haircut. You could give yourself a mullet for free. I'm all for capitalism and free enterprise but that's just taking advantage of people silly enough to want a mullet. Then again, this is a world where people will pay cash money to see Paris Hilton's blacklighted coochie so maybe Mullet Price Gouging isn't such a big deal.

Off to go rock back and forth in the corner some more...

Personal DNA Test

I got this link from Laura and decided to try it out. Here are my results



About you

You are an Inventor

• Your imagination, self-reliance, openness to new things, and appreciation for utility combine to make you an INVENTOR.
• You have the confidence to make your visions into reality, and you are willing to consider many alternatives to get that done.
• The full spectrum of possibilities in the world intrigues you—you're not limited by pre-conceived notions of how things should be.
• Problem-solving is a specialty of yours, owing to your persistence, curiosity, and understanding of how things work.
• Your vision allows you to identify what's missing from a given situation, and your creativity allows you to fill in the gaps.
• Your awareness of how things function gives you the ability to come up with new uses for common objects.
• It is more interesting for you to pursue excitement than it is to get caught up in a routine.
• Although understanding details is not difficult for you, you specialize in seeing the bigger picture and don't get caught up in specifics.
• You tend to more proactive than reactive—you don't just wait for things to come to you.
• You do your own thing when it comes to clothing, guided more by practical concerns than by other people's notions of style.

If you want to be different:

• Try applying your creativity to more artistic arenas, and letting your imagination take less practical forms.

How you relate to others

You are Considerate

• You trust others, care about them, and are slow to judge them, making you CONSIDERATE.
• You value your close relationships very much, and are more likely to spend time in small, tightly-knit groups of friends than in large crowds.
• You enjoy exploring the world through observation, quietly watching others.
• Relating to others so well, and understanding their emotions, leads you to trust people in general, even though you're somewhat shy and reserved at times.
• Your belief that people are generally well-intentioned contributes to your sympathy regarding their problems.
• Although you may not vocalize it often, you have an awareness of how society affects individuals, and you understand complex causes of people's behavior.
• You like to look at all sides of a situation before making a judgment, particularly when that situation involves important things in other people's lives.
• Your close friends know you as a good listener.
• You do your own thing when it comes to clothing, guided more by practical concerns than by other people's notions of style.

If you want to be different:

• Because other people would benefit immensely from your understanding and insight, you should try to be more outgoing in social situations, even when they make you uncomfortable. Others will want to hear what you have to say!

Michael Vick isn't the only f*ckwit in the NFL

Skins players ridicule dog fighting as crime

My favorite parts of this article are:

In an interview with WAVY-TV, Portis said that if the Atlanta Falcons quarterback is charged and convicted of being involved in a dog fighting operation, then authorities would be "putting him behind bars for no reason."

"I don't know if he was fighting dogs or not," Portis said. "But it's his property; it's his dogs. If that's what he wants to do, do it."

Portis said dog fighting is a "prevalent" part of life.

followed by:

Hours after making light of the possible crime in the television interview, Portis issued a statement late Monday through the Redskins.

"In the recent interview I gave concerning dog fighting, I want to make it clear I do not take part in dog fighting or condone dog fighting in any manner," the statement said.

In other words:

"The team management and my agent told me I'm a fuckwit and I best start backpedaling."

I Can Name That Trainwreck in Two Notes!

My friend Kim just sent me this email:

Does anyone else foresee disaster with this just-announced CBS fall show...


"What will undoubtedly prove to be one of the most polarizing shows on its schedule is "Kids Nation," a reality show that takes 40 children aged 8 to 15 and drops them in an abandoned mining town without any grown ups, where they need to form their own government. How do they do? Let's just say the clips featured lots of tears and lots of yelling."


Who doesn't like shows about a bunch of crying kids in an abandoned mine town? Hopefully they'll also solve Scooby Doo style mysteries too. Unless it turns into a Children of the Corn style bloodbath instead.


Uh.

Yeah.

I'll take women crying about a man they just met over this imminent clusterf*ck.

ETA: The psych major in me is somewhat curious to see how this plays out. Social dynamics both fascinate and (potentially) terrify me. Plus the base, dirty human in me just can't pass a good trainwreck.

Today's WTF Moment

Baby "Bubba" gets a gun permit

Uh.

Yeah.

I don't even know where to start.

A Better Weekend

Well, after the slight hiccup Saturday morning, I got my shit together and managed to have a pretty decent weekend. Friday night I had gone to a graduation party for a friend of a friend, which was pretty fun, not to mention Hamburger Mary's has some tasty mini-burgers.

Saturday afternoon I went to my best friend's sister's house, my best friend was up for the weekend and her brother and my quasinephew, Alex came up for the day too. I swear it was only yesterday we were wheeling him in his stroller to the park but now he's holding our hands and asking if we can run to the park, and commenting perfectly clearly, "It is a beautiful day today!" Aw. So cute. ETA: In addition, when I turned down a piece of Snickers cake, his aunt asked Alex if I was demented, and Alex said "No." I know that kid will always have my back.

Sunday I got to see my parents' new place they will be moving to near Rockford. They should be moving in a couple of weeks - evidently there was some water damage to the basement carpet which the builders are replacing now. The house is pretty nice, both of them seem really excited about it and Dad's got his vegetable garden all staked out in the back.

When we got back, we had the carrot cake that I made for Mother's Day (which Mom loves but Dad will undoubtedly beat her to eating the majority of) and then I washed my car - a round-trip to Springfield will earn you approximately 90,000 bug corpses on the hood of your car. Then I went out and bought running shoes and a little thing to strap my iPod to my arm. I got back home and suited up and jogged/walked around the neighborhood for about 20 min. Not great, but I expected to be pretty pathetic starting out - I'm going to try for 3 days a week to start out with. Hopefully I'm not pathetic for too long!

I also was perusing the CLC (College of Lake County) fun courses last night and there is a summer class in belly dancing which I am totally going to sign up for if the cost is reasonable. Shaking my hips that much may cause seismic disturbances, but I really could care less. There was also a beginner hatha yoga course that I might sign up for, again if the cost is doable.

In other news, my kitty Molly is desperately trying to eat graham crackers off my desk.

Letting a Memory Take the Wheel

This morning I saw a can of cocoa in my kitchen and I started to cry. My cats were very perplexed. I know it's totally irrational, but I think it's really unfair that a memory can accost me like that in my own home, my home that's supposed to be my haven and refuge. And I also know it's partly my fault for letting a memory take control like that. And I also know there's much worse things happening to better people throughout the world. I know all this, but right now I want to be selfish. It's a beautiful day and I'll be going out soon where I'll have plenty of time to think about something else and be unselfish. Right now I just want hugs from my kitties.

Seriously. WTF is wrong with people?

Boy, 10, guilty of beating homeless Army veteran

Swarms of mindless fuckwits don't want Paris Hilton to go to jail. B-O-O-H-O-O.

Just generally speaking, Fox News is always a sign of what's wrong with the times.

Toes and Dandelions

I took the day off Friday, got the 15k mile maintenance on my car in the morning (*sniff* my baby is all grown up and sliding down the hill of automotive deterioration!) and then took off for Springfield. My best friend lives down there, as far as I'm concerned there's no other reason to go down there. We ate lots of overly spicy Thai food, watched some pretty bad tv and a really bad movie (Turistas is worse than awful. I would have rather spent that time getting a barium enema.) and did some shopping and got pedicures on Saturday, went to church, and watched some more bad tv. A largely enjoyable (except for Turistas) mushy-brain weekend. And now my toes is pretty.

Dopey is mostly moved into his new place so was able to come visit me Sunday when I got back from Springfield. We hadn't seen each other for two weeks so got right down to playing Parcheesi for a while. No, "Parcheesi" is not a euphemism for something else.

Yes of course "Parcheesi" is a euphemism for something else. I don't even remember how to play Parcheesi.

Then this morning I had a dream that he took my bedroom doors off their hinges so he could move a really big tv into my room. I'm not sure what this is supposed to signify.

I really do not understand why this boy looks so happy to have had spiders in his ear.

The house next door to me is a rental (I think) and no one is living there now. The tenants over the years were never particularly lawn-conscious, but now the lawn over there is basically solid dandelions. At least it makes my lawn look better, although I will have to put down the turfbuilder/weedkiller sometime this week. Oh, for the days when indentured servants were legal.

Michael Vick is (allegedly) a f*cker

In addition to being (in my humble opinion) one of the most overrated NFL quarterbacks ever. Seriously do not click the link below if you like dogs and hate fuckers who mistreat dogs. Seriously. You've been warned. There is significant evidence that he is a complete fuckwit.

Michael Vick is a fuckwit Story #1

Michael Vick is a fuckwit Story #2

Time I Can't Get Back

I saw Disturbia yesterday with Laura and John. For the life of me I cannot figure out why this movie is topping the box office because it was really trite and pretty freaking boring. I nearly fell asleep during parts of it. Maybe it just means that I'm dead inside because the group of girls behind us screamed at every little thing that happened in the movie, like, when the bad guy walked into a room. It's clearly billed as a scary movie, you really couldn't figure out that he was going to be sneaking up on a few people? Anyway, thanks to the Shrieky McPussykins clan, I was never able to actually fall asleep. Oh, and as part of the "scary", one of my countrymen took a baseball bat to the head. There were no black people in the movie so evidently Asians are next on the food chain while the white people run around screaming. Surprisingly enough he didn't die, but I'll give you three guesses as to which ethnicity did bite it, and the first two don't count.

So, that was two hours of my life I can't get back. Not nearly as bad as Jeepers Creepers, but very few things are. I was drifting off to sleep last night trying to think of movies and other occupations that were a bigger waste of time than Disturbia. I can't remember if I've already blogged on this type of subject, but if I have, tough tukkus.

Chunks of My Life I Can't Ever Get Back

• Jeepers Creepers. This movie actually made me mad that I saw it for free on a movie network that I wasn't paying for while I lived in Chicago. You don't always pay for an experience in dollars. Sometimes you end up paying in bitter, bitter regret.
  
• The Grudge. By the time the inspector brought the gasoline can at the end, I nearly yelled out "FINALLY. BURN THAT MOTHER DOWN AND END THIS STUPID MOVIE." The only reason I didn't was because I was watching it on an airplane and I would probably have been taken down by US Marshals. I would hope that I would have been anyway.
  
• Ringu. It was touted as being sooooo much better than the American version. It wasn't. Having already seen the American version, it was a waste of time to watch the same movie with Japanese actors instead.
  
• The time I spent reading the book Hannibal.
• The time I spent watching the movie Hannibal. I clearly don't learn my lessons after one clubbing over the head. To my credit, I didn't watch the whole thing, but damn that 20-30 minutes sucked.
  
• The MCAT. Yes, back in the day I was studying pre-med for about 15 minutes before I changed my mind. My dad talked me into taking the MCAT anyway - "just try it" was his reasoning. As though an eight-hour exam was something you can just taste and decide if you like it, like caviar on toast points. (Which I also don't like by the way) Time actually stopped in the Biological Sciences portion of the exam and I was stuck in that room for about 15 days. When I finally got home I got so unbelievably drunk that I thought I was sober again, and subsequently got into a shoving match with some guy at a bar. Yeah, trainwreck day from beginning to pathetic, liver-in-active-rebellion end,
• Any time spent watching Semi-Homemade Cooking with Sandra Lee on the Food Network, which happens to be what was on tv as I write up this post. I think her premise is something like teaching you how to kind of cook/kind of just tart up stuff you bought from the store. So, half-assed cooking. Which is ok really if the stuff turns out edible, but she just made bacon-wrapped hot dogs which she put in the oven, and when she took them out of the oven chirping about how deeeeeeeelicious they looked, the fact is that the bacon was still pale pink and mostly raw-looking. So, half-assed to no-assed cooking whatsoever.

This list could really go on forever, but it would be somewhat ironic for me to sit here writing about how I've wasted time as opposed to going and finding something valuable to do with my time today, especially since today's so freaking beautiful. Toodles all!

The Vagaries of Dreams and Bananas

In case my 7 readers haven't noticed, I have some pretty weirdass dreams. I listen to accounts of dreams from other people, and while they seem a bit kooky/funny, they're still mostly logical. My dreams are just fugged up sometimes.

Last night I dreamed that I went to Dopey's new apartment (he questions the code name "the boy") to help with unpacking. There were boxes everywhere and we started making out, like we have once or twice in the past. Then I notice this woman sleeping on his couch, who I at first thought was his ex, but it turns out she was his mom, and I was uber pissed that he didn't tell me she was there so huffed out the door. I vaguely recall his response was to run after me and tell me she wasn't Korean or something. Buh?

Next I dreamed that I was trying to kill a hugeass roach. Every time I clunked it, it got bigger and more cartoony-looking, till finally it was just staring at me with huge cartoon sad eyes and I didn't have the heart to kill it. This was all during a phone call with someone from Italy. I don't know anyone in Italy.

In the waking world, things aren't making much more sense, because I went to search for a banana bread recipe only to be accosted by this recipe for...CHEESY HAM AND BANANA CASSEROLE. If you threw up a little in your mouth reading that, it's ok because I did too. Sometimes Paula Deen's stuff doesn't look too bad, but other times it looks like she just lets things fall from her fridge into her mixing bowl.

Clowns DO Suck

I just watched an episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations on the Travel Channel, and he was in Osaka and refused to get his picture taken next to a clown because he's scared of clowns. That man's not afraid of anything but he admits that clowns are fuckers. I wonder if I can get Chuck Norris and David Hasselhoff to admit that clowns are fuckers too.

Observations

My chubby kitty Molly is lying next to me on the couch, steadily cranking out her little boat-motor purr. If I rub her belly she meeps and paddypaws the air. She makes me very happy.

I watched part of a tv show this weekend about wedding planning where the bride's gown was $7,000 and the budget for the wedding was another $80,000. There is just no way I can relate to that. I guess it says something about the very massive range of priorities we humans can have. Or something like that.

The boy and I saw the new baby polar bear at Brookfield Zoo on Saturday. He was so ridiculously cute...the crowd erupted in cheers when he emerged from a hiding place in the bear grotto. I wonder what goes through his head when that happens.

Billy Ray Cyrus is performing on ABC's Dancing with the Stars. He doesn't have a mullet anymore. He does however have a soul patch, which I consider to be the second-most cringeworthy accessory that a man can have outside of a leather bananahammock. That's really all I can say about that.

Dual-tuner DVR's aren't the best thing ever. But they are pretty freaking cool.

I've been thinking I should try to start a new knitting project but I have no idea what. Every once in a while I think about trying to learn to knit socks but I've just not been in the mood for complete and total frustration.

I have the latest Amy Tan novel, Saving Fish From Drowning, but ever since I read an article that mentioned she is friends with Rupert Murdoch, I've been less inclined to pick it up and finish it. Maybe he's a lovely person outside of his evil News Corp regime, but I kind of doubt it. It might be unfair to judge/dismiss a person's work based on what you know of his/her personal life, but I can't help it that I hear Bill O'Reilly whining every time I look at the book now.

Completely Jacked Up

I had the most jacked-up dream last night so I'm hurrying to blog this before I forget it.

So it started out, I was back down at the University of Illinois, and I had just left some guy I was dating to run over to a math class, which if you went to U of I, you know most of the math classes were in Altgeld Hall. Only when I got to Altgeld, it wasn't really Altgeld, and I wasn't really going to math class, I was having surgery because something was wrong with my ovaries or my eggs or some such crap. Buh??? Not only was I having surgery, but I was going to be awake for the whole thing, and since dreams are crazy like that, I had no issues with this. So I have the surgery, wide awake and not feeling a thing, but I had to come back the next day because the woman who did the surgery (in street clothes by the way) said she might have nicked my spinal cord somehow. BUH??? So this time I'm still not getting anesthetic, but another surgeon comes in and pinches the crap out of my arm when the cutting starts, presumably to take my mind off having my abdomen cut open. Right, then. Then I heard my best friend's brother and her husband outside the room and I begged the pinching surgeon not to let them in because they wouldn't want to see me like this but he let them in anyway. Then I woke up.

I didn't even have Nyquil. I have no idea what that shit was all about.

My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Vacation

HA! So not true. Especially considering my last vacation babysitting my brat cousin in Disney World, this past week in Vegas was one of the best vacations ever.

I've only been to Vegas for work and not for fun, so this was my first chance to get a good look at the Strip especially in daylight (previously I was cooped up in meetings and presentations all day). We stayed at Luxor, which like many other Vegas hotels, is gloriously tacky and over-the-top, but hey, if you came to Vegas for subtly tasteful decor, well, you're kind of dumb. We got there Monday morning, and decided to walk up to the Mirage to check out Siegfried & Roy's Secret Garden/Dolphin Exhibit. Thanks to my stupid stupid girly shoes, my feet were killing me by the time we got there, but the dolphins were totally worth it, as were the other animals like the white tiger rollin' around in the water.






Over the course of the week we also checked out the Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay, and took a day trip to Lake Mead/Hoover Dam. We had amazing weather for the Lake Mead cruise - it was probably right around 70 and on the boat it was actually a bit cool. Thanks to full-on sunshine and my black hair, I was never actually cold though.





We didn't go see any shows since there was nothing either of us was dying to see/was willing to pay in the neighborhood of $100 to see. (My normally awesome powers of persuasion weren't enough to get the boy to see Barry Manilow, even though the man DID write the songs that make the whole world sing. Sigh.) For the most part, we went somewhere if we felt like it, and were slugs if we felt like it. Really wonderful and relaxing. And it was so strange to spend just about seven days with someone and not ever even come close to wanting to kill him or to hide in the room's armoire curled in the fetal position. Wonders will never cease I suppose! And now it's unfortunately time to rejoin the rat race, but I'm so so glad we went on this vacation together.

Lightning Round Blog Revisited

I just received an email from cubs.com informing me that I need to register for the chance to buy dugout, bleacher box, and/or bullpen box seats for the 2007 Cubbie home games. I do love my Cubbies but I think I'll take a pass on this, the older I get, the more trouble it seems it is to buy Cubs tickets. Anyway, 2008 is going to be our year.

I'm going to Vegas from the 19th-23rd. Yay! I've only been to Vegas for work, not fun, and we're staying at the Luxor which I've never been to. Work gets so much more difficult to tolerate when there's a fun vacation on the horizon.

McDonald's tests a bigger burger. I hardly see this as necessary, but as LK reminded me, when has necessity factored into anything concerning McDonald's?

I am finally better once again. Breathing through two open nostrils is a luxury I once took for granted. If I get sick again this year, Wayne Brady WILL be choking a bitch.

READER POLL: Out of curiousity, what's the strangest thing you ever did in your sleep (that you know of, since of course you need credible witnesses seeing as how you were, you know, asleep) Leave a comment and let's see if we can get some good stories out of this.

My weirdest one was having a full, coherent conversation with a college roommate about the quiz I was supposed to be taking in biology that morning. Apparently she asked if I didn't need to get up since I had an 8am quiz but I informed her that it had been cancelled, and when her alarm went off, I instructed her to (if I recall correctly) "shut that f*cking thing off." Then I woke up at 7:50 for my 8am quiz which WAS still on and, crying the whole time, jammed my contacts in and some clothes on and took off.