Not fiction

Some of the things said in my proximity while home for Christmas could only have been meant to be repeated.  For example, my brother Ben coined the phrase "Huh" years ago, and made excellent use of it over the holidays.   Per Ben, there are two main translations.  The first would be "I have heard what you just said and am acknowledging it, and though I have nothing to say to you currently, I may have a response or comment at a later date."  The second translation is, when pronounced with a slightly different intonation, "I do not wish to engage in the conversation which you have just initiated."  This version has proven VERY useful.

Some other things I heard below.

At a bar on Christmas eve -

Person 1 to E^!&:  How's life?

E^!& to group:  Oh, really pretty terrible.

Person 1:  (Confused, as that's not the right answer.) Oh no.  Why's that?

E^!&:  Well, you know Mr. X died?

Person 1:  Yes, it's so sad.

E^!&:  (Completely serious)  Yeah.  Well.  Now I have to pick up all his leftover work.

(Group stares, all jaws dropped.)

Person 2:  Merry Christmas E^!&...  Merry Christmas E^!&... (continues repeating until E^!& gets the hint and walks away.)

At a party another night - 

Party Person:  Hey!  Have you guys ever heard of a group, I think they're called the Gibbs Brothers?

Later that night, Party Person's father approaches me.

Me:  Oh, hello.

Person's father:  (Through his mustache)  I didn't think (my daughter)'s friends would end up so attractive.

Me:  (Kicking myself for not asking him to speak into the carnation!)  Huh.

What I will not be doing to get a job

The minute you lose your job, people come out of the woodwork to give you their really good advice, which is to join Linked in, or whatever the hell that thing is.  If I had to make a list of the things I will not be doing to get a job, it would begin and end with joining Linked in.  A complete lunatic I once knew is on Linked in, and I heard her interim career was listed as President and CEO of the Human Foundation.  And FYI, she isn't funny.  Wasn't that what George Costanza didn't donate money to?  Which reminds me, happy Festivus, everyone!

Missing Dagger, Lightly Used

For the second year in a row, the P and my mas and I went shopping for yuletide cheer yesterday at the world's best gas station near the outlet mall in the Amana Colonies.  Amongst other earthly delights, one could score all the canned beef, dandelion wine, and rhubarb jam one could want at this BP.  We settled for some Iowa Pale Ale, cheese curds, and rye bread, but if you ever find yourself crossing Iowa on I-80, stop there, as the Amish really know their Piestengle.  

(Note!  Don't be lured in by all the flashy lights and billboards and end up at the Jamboree truckstop in Walcott instead - the Williamsburg BP is way better.)

On our way there, we saw a truck pulled over on the highway with a huge hole in the windshield and the driver slumped over the steering wheel.  There was a passenger very calmly just sitting there, and a state trooper behind them calling for reinforcements.  This mystery only four months after the three of us witnessed a bloody shirtless guy with a dagger  walking down Sunnyside Ave.  Fortunately, in both cases it would seem nobody was hurt seriously (sometimes a guy just wants to slump/ wander about bloodied, knife in hand).  We just happened to come across these incidents at their most mystifying moments.  I have to say, with the exception of a gentleman named Science getting shot on rollerskates in front of a school bus full of children last year (from the sounds of it, he had it coming), all the excitement is happening west of Big Muddy. 

For those with Christmas shopping left who can't make it to the nearest Amish gas station, there is still a lightly used dagger in the grass off Sunnyside somewhere, barely covered in snow.

Razin'

I just heard the most morbid, wisest thing that anyone walking a razor scooter will ever say, and that is this: "When I am in heaven, I can't wait to see the dinosaurs!"    (Yes, he was four.  And yes, I'm sadly aware sharing this makes me equal parts Bill Cosby and the person who repeats things they hear on the bus.)  Flism flasm?

One would think this needs a subject

Blogging is not always easy, especially when you have a.d.d. - which I must.  It seems impossible to settle on a route for today's posting right now.  Instead, I'll just tell you what was in the running.

Possibility #1.  The Wilco and Neil Young concert that G and I went to see last night.  There were lots of characters to report on.  Plus, I thought about letting you in on how the only incentive I've found in the last month and a half to get a job is having wanted better seats last night (it's not like I haven't realized homelessness is a real possibility, either).  I also always thinks it's appropriate to tell my go to Wilco anecdote about the Nashville roadtrip when Via Chicago was up next and I dedicated it to Lederman (what with her being from Chicago) totally having forgotten how the first line goes.  

Possibility #2.  Wayne's World vs. Wayne's World 2.  I would have won you over with my Wayne's World preference debating skills, carefully reminding you why Keith Richards cannot be killed by conventional weapons.  In the end, we all would have agreed it was a trifle unnecessary to see the crack in the Indian's bottom, but 2 still would have won.  I could have also tied it into last night's concert because a guy across the aisle was into giving Neil the "we're not worthy" bow every now and then.

Possiblity #3.  Funny things people have sent me links to, like this, that, here, and what.  And, holy cow, Bob Bob just sent this.

Possibility #4.  What I heard on the weather channel about how wind chill is calculated.  The weather guy said that if you look at an infrared shot of a person when there is no wind chill, their body heat makes it look like their head is on fire.  The greater the wind chill, the less your head looks on fire, and the colder you feel.  (Maybe I should become a science teacher...)

Possibility #5.  The unwritten rule a wise man once shared with me about how, when someone starts a conversation with "One would think...," it is proper etiquette only to respond, "One would... one would."  

Something in a Dragon

Last spring I was invited by R^2 to join a book club that a girl we know was starting.  It seemed like all my friends in other cities were in at least one, so I jumped on the opportunity.  Informally, the initiator has taken on the roll of president of The Book Club that Shall Not Be Named, or so it has been called, and drives the organization by email.  We meet once every five or six weeks to talk about the book, drink lots, and pick our next read.  If you have not joined a b.c., I would highly recommend starting one for a few reasons, which are as follows:

1.  Meet new people!  If everyone brings a different friend, you get a random cross section of people you otherwise might not have found occasion to meet.  If you are invited through friends, you are likely dealing with some q.p. and lots of humorous new folks - I am always for broadening your laugh pool when possible.

2.  Incentive to read!  At the time The Book Club that Shall Not Be Named was formed, I was in a rut of only reading magazines and had not read a book in a long time.  But reading books is so fun and I do it now - at least once a month.

3.  Grow your personal library!  Unless you check each months' pick out from the library.  Which is the recession proof way to go about book clubbing.

4.  Booze and cheese are the personal pan pizzas of adulthood!  Only now you don't have to have your parents sign-off on your books to get Book It stickers because nobody cares if you finish, you still get to eat.

5.  You can say "yes" if people ask you if you belong to any clubs!  Like when my outplacement consultant asked me today.  "No" would have been such a depressing answer.

6.  Learn new things!  Book club conversations invariably turn to topics other than the content of the book.  I have learned some crazy things at The Book Club that Shall Not be Named.  Many of which I had not learned before because they are generally terrifying to see in print.  If you want a list, call me.  Oh also, you learn from the reading, obvi.

Our most recent book was The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson.  At first I was just excited for this pick because - finally!  A book in a dragon!  (I always prefer the option in a dragon if there is one vs. not.)  As it turns out, the dragon is not too heavily involved, and it's not really about the girl much either.  Maybe she plays a bigger role in the next two of the trilogy.  But, since we didn't pick those for our next month's read, I'll probably never know.  

Up for next month - The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano.  Book report to follow.

Political Par-tay

I am generally trying to keep this puppy apolitical, and I think for the most part I've succeeded.  It's pretty well established that Blagojevich, T.O.T.s, and Gilmore Girls all transcend politics, and I would contend that the sexiness of our president elect does as well.  Even if you hate hope, you have to admit that he's a man and shit.  

In any event, I just learned our future fearless leader is considering one of the nation's 300 female neurosurgeons for his surgeon general.  This is extra cool from my perspective because she currently works at the same hospital where the P has already almost earned 3/8 of a medical degree.  I happen to know they also have the largest parking garage in all of Chicago.  If I had to guess, I'd say both are big factors in Obama's decision making.  If female Gail is in, maybe I can introduce myself as the P's sister when I run into her at the inauguration.  When I am there.  Because I am going to be.  G's madre just scored us tickets.  And guess what I don't have to worry about - taking the day off.  I wonder if I should bring my own confetti or if they provide it at the door.

Blah! Goy! Oh! Vich!

If there is anything funnier than what a dirtbag Illinois' govie is allegedly revealing himself to be, I can't think of it right now.  After staring at his face all day, I have finally realized why he looks familiar - I'm taking the liberty of speaking for most women when I say that's what we imagine we look like before running a comb through our hair and doing a little blush/mascara action in the morning (especially if we accidentally just cut bangs).  So for the last time - give us a minute! Then  reopen all of Illinois' parks and monuments and get a chevy.  Sheesh!

Oy, Hoy

The Today Show has had its share of embarrassing moments.  Mostly they can be chalked up to Meredith falling on her tookus in a segment she's not physically qualified for, or Al's joke being so unfunny your blood pressure starts to rise as you're thinking "Al, stop now, ok now, you're stopping now, right?"  Of course throw in the occasional Matt mocking a guest, and you've got yourself a solid three hours of morning news (I'm not counting the fake last hour).  But just when I thought I'd seen it all, Ann interviews Keanu Reeves this morning about (his upcoming smash hit) The Day the Earth Stood Still and I'm still blushing from the shamelessness of her flirting.  She wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise with all her compliments and blouse unbuttoning, nor could she sit still trying to get as close to him as possible.  Just when I was certain she would somehow end up in his lap, she prompted, then missed, a high five to end the interview.  Annie girl, I am two steps ahead of you on this one.  

OK Fine - maybe I was projecting.  She does say "I Love You" near the end, though.

Anthony Kiedis can only just be getting started

With our themed powder blue sweatshirts packed, some friends and I headed to the hills to visit our better fourth in LA last weekend.  If there is one city that would embrace some lovely ladies in matching track suits, we must have found it.  What a strange, awesome place!  Here are some highlights:

1.  B-List celebrities galore!  Alex Karev, Kim Kelly, and my favorite - that bitch Dawn Denbo - all close enough to see if we had anything in our teeth.  We even saw a couple of D-Listers, like the girl who (doesn't) work with Audrina, making me feel like something of a non-celebrity myself.

2.  Witnessing firemen poking at a corpse on Skid Row.  (Just kidding, ma!)

3.  75 degree weather in December.

4.  Being followed by a paparazzo for being in an SUV with tinted windows.  And upon his realizing the particular foursome he was following won't be famous for at least two more years, acknowledging and accepting the extreme disappointment we've been to a stranger.  (It had nothing to do with the sweatshirts, I promise.)

5.  Holiday cheer in many forms!  

Exhibit A.

Exhibit B.

After this weekend, I was able to reassess my stance on the number of odes to Los Angeles in the Red Hot Chili Peppers' oeuvre.  Knowing what I do now, I'd say Anthony Kiedis has an infinite amount of LA love ballads in his future.  What a magical, mystical place.  And the perfect place to kick-off the holiday season!  Los Feliz navidad, everyone!

Song Idea: Guy walks into his opthamologist's office

One of the highlights of being home for Thanksgiving was hearing the P outline the ways in which he differs from Jackson Brown.  Bowlcuts aside, it really came down to their thought processes when writing their hit songs.  (They both wrote down "Dr. My Eyes..." but only one of them crossed it out.)  Just when I thought I had beaten the humor out of his joke, I found this utter atrocity on youtube, earning the anecdote a blargh entry.  Hopefully this won't be as impossible to forget as I am predicting.

T.O.T.s, Interrupted

One of the first casualties of the tough economic times that really hit home with me was when Bennigan's went bankrupt last summer.  How can the creators of the ever-so-decadent Turkey O'Tooles not make a killing in every mall, strip mall, and Quality Inn and Suites parking lot in America?!  I guess there was a reason they were the only restaurant chain still offering unlimited soda refills.

While I was still in mourning that I would never experience the pretzel roll/turkey/honey mustard combo again, the P told me his friend's dad works as a restaurant closer and participated in the beheading of the chain.  I guess when restaurants are going to be closed, their employees aren't told ahead of time - professionals come in and shut it down after hours to prevent looting.   Learning this tacked two weeks onto my mourning period, as I really felt for the employees who lost their dream jobs and employee meals that night.  

Timing wise, that brought me up exactly to last Wednesday, when I found out that independently owned Bennigan's franchises are still open!  And there is one in Ft. Madison!!  A Turkey O'Toole was in my future!!!  Flash to noon today - braving treacherously icy roads, I dragged my unsuspecting companions to the nearby Bennigan's.  Upon ordering, I was told they were out of pretzel rolls and had been for three days.  Big Oy.  Reluctantly, I choked down a makeshift T.O.T. on a whole wheat sesame seed bun.  It felt like a sick joke, but finally, I understood.  Nothing is forever.  Not favorite menu items, not untouchable franchises, and especially not the drive and determination to bring patrons the quality, high fat sandwiches that once made them so loyal.  

Added to my list of possible career paths today:  Restaurant closer

Checked off my list of possible career paths today:  Sandwich artist

Thanks, god(!)

On Thanksgiving, I always think of an Albanian woman I used to work with at the salon who would editorialize her own stories by pausing in the middle to give big ups to the man upstairs, pointing and lamenting, "Thanks, God!" after which she would gesture a very quick, almost impossible to see, sign of the cross.  The phrase would be dripping with self-pity and fear, sometimes I thought I sensed sarcasm, even.  I've seen very few people be able to work that much information into two syllables, it was pretty incredible.  

Anywho, in addition to the above, thanks, god(!) for the following:

1.  KGRS, or, as they'd have you believe, the soundtrack to my life - without which R squared could have never memorized "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" that time that it was broken and on repeat for well over an hour in 1997.  Also without which B-Town would only have country music.

2.  An open Bennigan's twenty minutes away and Turkey O'Tooles in my future!

3.  Fun City, whose patrons continue to remind us to keep it classy - as per the below.  It's hard to tell from my fancy photog work, but in parentheses it reads "now go make me some breakfast please."  The future is ours, America.

4.  Today Show recipes.  While the rest of you were picking at your meals today, wondering what Lester Holt was eating, I was livin' it.

Sitting Coach Duck

As I sat in the Northwest terminal at LaGuardia Monday afternoon awaiting my flight home for turkey day, I skimmed through my travel reading selections.  Flipping through a newly shrunken issue of rolling stone, I saw the proof I was looking for last Saturday night - a photo of Axl Rose's new face, still all waxy from the skin reattachment.  How four people were completely unaware of his total reconstruction is beyond me, but I'm working on a rough draft of my conspiracy theory.

Fortunately, leg one of my flight boarded and took off in a timely manner.  But, I got stuck with the middle seat between two dudes (double nards!).  A couple of thoughts for gentlemen flying solo:  If you insist on bringing your tuna sandwich and banana dinner on the plane and consuming it, don't fall asleep or you will rip ones the entire time.  Assuming you're a healthy boy and ok with that, attempting any manner of conversation with your rowmates upon waking would be ill advised.  Also, if you are in a band and all the mystique of odiferous fart filled coach sitting is what inspires you to write the lyrics to your future hit single (you should name it Commotion), please keep the flailing of your head and arms to a minimum.  It doesn't look like you are jamming out to anything, and your rowmates will likely grow less concerned, more spiteful.

With the advances of a middle aged businessman and an adultalescent emo boy skillfully thwarted, I had to wonder - was it just my aloneness and the fact that they could in no way get busted for flirting as they would never see me again?  Or, more likely, is my Felicity inspired leather laptop backpack serious man bait?  After all, she did get that haircut and still got to choose between Ben and Noel...

Though my layover in Memphis was supposed to be one minute (not well planned), it ended up being three hours thanks in full to a missing part.  Much later that night, I landed safely at the QC Airport, my plane-side checked bag nowhere to be found.  Luckily, it wasn't my plane dude magnet, but I'd have to call my friends about Axl tomorrow.

Bowl game?

I'm so proud to be a Hawkeye with their pending bowl game announcement and all, but most especially after hearing this.

Update!  As a follow-up, my source for all things Metrodome bathroom sex, Sports, just sent me this.  It's less funny when the participants have names.  Silver lining - finally identifying someone who can drink less than me. 

Rico McPato, Le' go my Eggo

It's been a tough week in the news for the Rico McPato's of the world.  The first thing I heard this morning is they're canceling Dirty Sexy Money, then I find out vitamins are bad for you (only richies bother trying to live longer - jokes on them though), but the last straw was reading that the Queen's corgis are taking their stumpiness out on her!  What is this world coming to???  Next you're going to tell me that regular people can also own great art...

Middle Aged Man

Not to alienate my fan base or anything (sorry, Lone Reader!) but a friend is auditioning for a role and brought up one of my all time most beloved shows for comparison - Ally McBeal.  I've had my favorite tv characters on my mind ever since.   Knowing full well this could end it all, I'm putting them down to make it official.

1.  The Office - For the first few seasons I debated this a lot - am I a Dwight or a Pam or a Kelly (or a Phyllis)?  (Dwight.)  But I wish I was a Darryl.  He's not pigeon holed into being or doing the same stupid or annoying or arrogant thing each episode.  His scooting it to his truck after Kelly dumped him was the highlight of last week's episode.  Dinkin flicka.

2.  Freaks and Geeks - Daniel Desario's and Kim Kelly's were two excellent roles, but Haverchuck wins this one, as he made my heart bleed.  I'm so happy that he ended up a total babe.

3.   The OC - Sandy Cohen was so sexy that all the Seth Cohen and Jimmy Cooper in the world couldn't have made me forget when he wasn't on screen.  Summer was a close second, as she had a lot of good lines, but it would be a shame if Peter Gallagher's ability to broaden my consideration for giant eyebrows went unheralded.

4.  The Wire - This one keeps me up at nights.  McNulty is so tortured and misunderstood.  Bubbles makes me want to drop everything and take up homeless outreach.  Lester Freamon makes me want to marry an understated model furniture hobbiest.  Omar rules, Weebay is hilarious, I mean dang, all the characters are so great, even the really evil ones (except Kanard, little asshole).  I might have to walk the line and say Jay today.  His sense of irony is too too wonderful.

5.  Gossip Girl - Chuck.  

6.  All My Children - I once read an article that said people who watch soaps are inherently happier because subconsciously they feel like they have more friends.    It's true, Erica Kane has been in my life longer than anyone.  And she's never given anyone good advice, making her the most relatable, reliable character in my tv viewing history.

7.  Arrested Development - God this is hard!  Michael.

8.  Beverly Hills, 90210 - Steve is the only acceptable answer, as he's the only character that didn't take himself too seriously.  Ironically, I'm pretty sure that's the opposite of the truth in reality.  It's pronounced 'I - an'.  We know.

9.  Gilmore Girls - Up until last week, I would have made fun of myself for even typing that.  Lorelai is that awesome.

10.  Scrubs - This is a major toss-up.  Turk might be the absolute best character of all time, but the Todd and Dr. Cox make me really happy, too.  After weighing all the pros and cons of each, Dr. Cox eeks it out because his character is all human and shit.

11.  (but really that's for double 1's)  How I Met Your Mother - I heart Barney Stinson forever.  He makes Chuck, Dr. Cox, and Sandy Cohen look like a bunch of numb nuts.  They aren't, that's just how well he's written.  (Good looking out, A!)

Bonus round:  WORST character ever:  Felicity - Julie Emrick.  Lighten up!   Dang.

If, after reading this, you are looking at my gut, I'm working on it.

Not the Amos I knew so well...

The highlight of my working-stiff days was always receiving an email from one of my cohorts, subject line: Vend.  I'd usually pretend I was considering the healthy check-marked items for at least a few seconds, but was kidding no one,  before I went for the chocolate chip Famous Amos.  You can imagine my disappointment when there would be only four or five cookies in the bag, but I recently caught wind of this, which is just ridiculous.  When Amos was in charge of q.c., this never would have happened!

Found:

A few weeks ago I found the following letter in the hallway of my apartment building on the floor with all the menus and missent mail, and forgot to tell people about it.

It goes on to say "If you'r not interested please ignore this letter ThaNk yOU FOR yOUR TiME AND HAVE A BLESSED DAY!"  My guess is he didn't make all his cash in either the grammar or the real estate biz.  The letter was not addressed to me, or actually anyone, but I had to pick it up.  Someone please call miCHAEL. and let me know what happens.  Or maybe don't as he's clearly some sort of lunatic or war criminal or something.

 

Knibb High Football Rules!

Saturday morning at 9:00 am I received an email from the phone booths of time.  The real Lederman sent me a time capsule email three years ago (with the foresight to have it sent to my gmail account) including some comments on that day's lunch and predictions for where I'd be at 9:00 am on 11/15/08.

Coincidentally (or not) I had just gone through my desk and found this:

An original Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure trading card (!)(compliments of Bob Bob) that rotated in and out of my wallet for the past ten years.  The caption on the back reads:  Bill and Ted demonstrate their most unprecedented air guitar, perhaps in preparation for another Wyld Stallyns gig.  What about these two dudes doesn't make you happy?  I can safely say very little.  

Three highlights from Lederman's time traveling email: 

1. I distinctly remember the lunch she talked about.  It was my first foray into orzo.  Delicious yet tasteless. 
   
2. She was right that I was not at my old spot.  Just in the nick of time, I'd say!  
   
3. She mentioned that if we weren't still in regular contact, to pick up the phone and call her (she'd still have the same number.)  

I got the past email only moments after a (then) present email from Lederman, so no friendship refreshers necessary.  Re: me, she could make some pretty dead-on predictions - if she'd sent it three years and a week and half earlier, she'd have been wrong - that's how good she is.  Her own future info was maybe not so easy for her to predict (her line is now international.)  Sometimes this is what I'm talkin' 'bout when I'm asking for suggestions for what to do next - friends might know you better than you know yourself (one result of all that face time).  In conclusion, yes, I mean it when I solicit ideas.  Or, I could just wait for George Carlin to show up and help me divine my future from history.

Are you there God? It's Me, Tori Spelling.

After the weekend I am back to motivating myself to do anything while suckers around the globe are at their jobs.  (Sorry friends!)  In the meantime, since that's not working, here are some things I've seen:

1.  Friday night, after a long week of making moves (cough),  R^2 and I partook of an adventure - the first of many newly dubbed Cocktail Crawls.  Since I was so busy, I left it to R squared to put together the agenda.  Places we hit up included, but were not limited to, White Star and the Randolph.  White Star will probably be ok after they resolve the lighting and bathroom ventilation issues.  After a few minutes under their glaring lights, we were off to the Randolph.  This is the place where the bartender (who, one can hardly believe, can stand himself) once mistook my drink order to be me outing myself to him, and I have been unable to get a drink there ever since (not that there is anything wrong with that.)  In between these two bars, we saw the worst art opening ever.  The art was so foul and skill-less that all the patrons milled outside acting busy in the misting rain next door to a fish outlet. It's time for that guy to think about doing something else.  (Yeah, yeah.  Everyone's a Critic.)  Good times, though.  

2.  Three weeks worth of 90210 and the best line in Beverly Hills' history (far out besting Donna's unforgettable: "How are we ever going to tell Steve that his dad owns a sweat shop?!") when Navid says to the junkie:  "..then you got to the 7th grade and you got that pilot sitcom and it was like you didn't even know me anymore..."

3.  Three minutes of The Notebook.  To borrow a phrase my dad coined in response to another Nicholas Sparks adaptation, I'll be in the car.

4.  Eliot Stabler!!!

5.  An interesting approach to marketing coffee:

6.  The washers and dryers at a laundromat.  Today was my first time doing my own laundry not just since the ol' heave-ho, but since I lived with two great roommies in our mouse infested apartment under the neon sign that said "Sin Will Find You Out."  I quit doing my own laundry after I once found myself to be the lone clothes washer not meeting at the laundromat to collaborate on some sort of criminal mischief (but before the Si vez algo, di algo campaign).   I've been paying someone to wash and fold my laundry ever since - until today.

7.  Zack and Mrs. Kim writing their hit single "Commotion."

Bringing CDs Back

The new genius feature on itunes is incredible and I love my ipod.  But I've also recently been enjoying listening to CDs on the Sony stereo I bought in lieu of a tv way back when in Brooklyn.  I only have a few recent CDs - it's not like I'm dying to put on and listen straight thru Stankonia or anything- but I'm sensing a rebirth.   

So this morning , CD player on, I decided to take a stab at cleaning out my closet and putting away all my scoob gear (work clothes).  First I felt overwhelmed.  Then, as I started throwing away all the things I never should have spent money on, let alone worn in public, let alone to a place of employment (or anyplace other than that of employment - I can't tell and the line is fuzzy), a weight started lifting.  Gone are the Gap stretch dress pants which developed a hole in the seam at my ankle two years ago and I fixed by stapling, allowing them to make an appearance at least weekly ever since.  And gone are the super dumpy sweaters I let myself get away with for far too long (don't feel too much relief, amigos, I'd never part with the cardigans).  

The cathartic nature of this wardrobe sifting made me think about what I'll do next (and what I can wear to that) and what it was like to be a real casual person before the yob, when I could wear whatever I wanted.  This brought me back to when buying clothes was fun, and I started having flashbacks to watching The Real World, Los Angeles (hands down the best season, way before they even had Road Rules, let alone challenges) in jean short cut-offs and oversized Banana Republic logo t-shirts in my neighbor's attic.  (My particular Banana Republic logo t-shirt collection was epic - I think I had at least four that made the rotation.)  

For whatever reason not pertaining to the actual size of my own ass, I instantly remembered on one specific episode of the Real World LA, there was a cast member named Tami who told a story about buying a butt lifter and wearing it to a club.  I guess it was some sort of contraption that gathered and redirected all of her butt fat so that it protruded from a hole, or something.  Whatever, lifting went awry and her butt somehow caused her extreme embarrassment while dancing in a bar in 1993, and I have not since nor will I ever forget about it.  So ok, my ass size is relevant.  Those Gap pants were to me what Tami's buttlifter was to her - wildly misguided and now retired, much to the benefit of how we'll look in clothes forever.  

But I did not think of my neighbor's attic solely because of my penchant for cutt-offs and Tami's weird butt.  It was also where I ordered my first CDs, joining BMG by filling out and mailing in the order form I ripped out of YM.  I think there were at least fifty CDs to choose from!  The first one I picked was Pearl Jam.  After I got it I listened to it on repeat all day every day, up until the second CD arrived (Nirvana), and so on.   Many CDs and 456 itunes later, I'm going back to the hard stuff.  So, if one wanted to purchase a CD, and one had on the right casual wear to do so, should one rejoin BMG?  I mean really, they're still going with the 12 CDs for the price of 1???  My mom would be so mad at me all over again.  

Ass relevant, I'm going for a jog.

Some observations from today:

1. Spreading fluff on thin mints is delicious, causes shame.  
2. An unknown character on All My Children just made a Dr. Octagon reference.  
3. The bodega on 1st Ave has a sign that says - Please "NO DOGS" in the store.  Is "no dogs" a euphemism for something?
   
4. It takes five business days off to start dvr-ing Oprah.  Anyone hiring?

Don't ever let this guy plan your tailgate!

Well, it's 9:30 and I have already had a pretty full day.  While smuggling two chicken breasts from G's apt (wrapped in foil, then papertowl, then a shirt to, you know, prevent e. coli contamination from spreading to my keys and wallet) I had my first "hi boys" encounter of the day standing in the hallway locking his door. (Whenever I see firemen, I give them their due respect by greeting them as Stacy greets Wayne, just before flipping over the hood of that Nova while Wayne and Garth are playing street hockey.  It's the least I can do.)  No fire there, it seems someone else has 311 on speed dial as well.  (I am sorry if the fire dept ever shut your party down soon after my departure, but it was a safety hazard.)   

After relying on the kindness of a stranger to press the 'next stop' strip on the m103, I arrived home and promptly checked the dvr.  Crazy Jim Cramer hosting Mad Money at the University of Iowa!?  Once more I was pleasantly surprised with my own foresight into what I might want to mostly ff through.   I usually never pay attention to this show, but I gotta ask - is Seinfeld getting royalties for his flagrant thievery of 'Cramerica?'  I mean, I've never uttered a sentence that I didn't memorize from a movie, but I rarely to never get even a penny for my thoughts.

Next, with the "germs, germs, germs" song from the Today Show running through my head, I proceeded to bleach most of the hard surfaces in my apartment.  The song is catchy.  Also catchy is the list of Matt Lauer nicknames from the McSweeney's book of lists I read three years ago, so thinking of that, I spent fifteen minutes online trying to find the particular blurb about the man whose fears haunt my own.  If you scroll down about 3/4 the way here, you can see why it would be worth so much of my highly valuable time.

While combing the internet, I came across another good McSweeney's List which is particularly useful in these tough economic times.  With the Big Guy on the brain (big ups!), I began reflecting about a keychain the P had lost deep in the basement couch at The House at the end of Gnahn for three years which said "Jesus is coming, look busy!"    (Not, but perhaps more aptly, Jesus is busy, look concerned.)  Which lead me to remember Bob Bob's interpretation of the keychain URAQT, on to the license plate YUBH8N (because you spent money on that), then AAR BLR (to be pronounced, Arrgh, Blur.)  In summation, if there is one piece of advice Cramerica needs to hear, when in Hawktown, careful who you let plan your tailgate.  I'm off to go heat up some chicken breasts in a completely fire safe manner now!

G's Up, Ho's Down

As I meandered home from G's apartment this morning, I began reminiscing about my terrible commute to the old place of employment.  The top four commuting moments that immediately came to mind just have to be shared.  In retrospect, if these weren't the writing on the firing squad wall, nothing was.

1.  Only one hot summer month after the crane collapsed into the apartment directly behind mine, building continued on the lot due west.  As per uge, I had a feeling it was going to be a long one before even leaving my apartment.  Two steps out the door, I turned left to walk down the blue construction corridor that begins my eleven block hike to the 4,5.  Just as I lifted my left foot and began to bring it down, something caught my eye - the 18 inch rat crouching where I nearly stepped.  I screamed, it didn't move.  The lovely gentleman at the other end of the tunnel noted my paralysis and helped me to cross the street.  My roommate later confirmed that just ten minutes later, it was in the same spot but on its side in a pile of puke.

2.  I was nearly peed on by three adult male humans in five business days last February.  The first instance was your average dude peeing with extra splashy vigor on the building outside the Reif's Station on your block on your way home.  Some fancy footwork and the bullet was dodged, no bigs.  Exhibit two was a little more dicey when, a few days later, the probably homeless gentleman sitting three seats down on the 4 train wizzed where he sat.  (If you gotta go, you gotta go - you know what I'm talkin' 'bout.)  It was quite surprising to see the puddle streaming toward me as the train started moving, but I was up in a flash, as un-wizzed-upon as I had been all day, really.  It started to get ridiculous when, on my way to work the next morning I was hoofing it up Carnegie Hill and saw a clearly out of his mind gentleman being escorted out of an apartment building with his pants at his knees and a perfect (and quite high!) arc of wiz coming my way.  I had to cross the street to avoid getting pee in my hair in this instance.  I did not even know that what I had witnessed was anatomically possible.  

3.  I was barfed on while taking the 4,5 to work in September.  By barfed on, I do mean one speck splattered onto my shoe, but in my mind that is as good as being in the lower level audience at the movies with Chunk letting loose from the balcony above.  

4.  We've all been preached at on the subway, but to hear someone repeatedly shout "Men don't lust for women's butts!  Girls don't show your figure to men!" on your way to dealing with TPS reports is enough to send a chill up your spine.  Even, or rather especially, G's and Ho's would have trouble getting work done after that one.

But sometimes that really IS what I'm talkin' 'bout.

In the six days since I have become unemployed, I have learned lots of things!  I'm listing them below to spread the wealth and to point out how jobs can really hold you back from livin' life.

1.  Famous people only come out while you are working.  Exhibit A:  Jeremy Piven, J.T., and Jessica Beal can only be seen by the naked (or heavily refracted) eye during daylight hours (and NEVER on the Upper East Side or all the way downtown.)

2.  The ins and outs of gmail are a whole new world of emailing.  What with the status updates, and the messaging, and the color coding, it takes hours if not days to get used to the vagaries of gmail.

3.  Hoda Kotb and Kathy Lee Gifford hate each other, NBC hates us.  You probably thought NBC was on our side.  They gave us 30 Rock and SNL and all.  But they also gave up Scrubs, and entirely on the fourth hour of Today.  Like a fourth hour is even necessary?  All the hard news has been delivered by 7:15, but it's not like I'm turning to GMA - what am I, an animal? 

4.  Rory is short for Lorelai.  You know what I'm talkin' 'bout.

5.   The savings from buying books at Strand is completely neutralized by the subway ride to and fro Strand, completely justifying lazy purchases from B&N.

6.  The entertainment value of celebrity gossip is significantly compounded by being at work.  From my bed/couch/living room, I could give two shits if Jen esta embarazada.

7.  A well timed firing is good for the soul. I can wear jeans, swear, and believe in the Hawks again!  I can do my own laundry, concentrate on playlists and my eyebrows, and make plans to visit friends in Western Territories!  As a wise character on a now ABC sitcom once said, "Sometimes that really IS what I'm talkin' 'bout."

Day 5

For my first attempt at blogging about unemployment, I began by coming up with the perfect soundtrack.  Since the impetus for this is the sudden gift of freedom (and I only have two CDs in this room) I chose to go with Wilco's Sky Blue Sky.  (Sidestory:  When asked by the P to guess which of the songs on this album is his favorite, it took me precisely twelve guesses to correctly get to the title track.) 

Next, I needed a title and web address.  Thanks, god(!) for Jenny and Jenny Jr., without whom the theme could have gone on undetermined for hours!  Gmail, though you have your faults, you've done right by me tonight.  

Thirdly comes content.  What ever shall I blog about that would so interest my peeps?  Since I only ever read blogs very specifically about either Logan's loganing of various enclosed military spaces, L Squared's entrepreneurialship, or, more frequently, celebrity gossip, it occurred to me that all other blogs are inherently self-involved, so I could blog about the act of blogging and be right on target. 

Since I aim to inform, I next proceeded to describe in full the triumphs of my fifth day of unemployment.  After striking just the right note (some things are still hard when you don't have a job!) I hit "Publish Post."  Voila - I had blogged.  On to "View Blog."  Fudge.  It was nowhere to be found.  Oh well, I shall think of it tomorrow.