Cabin Fever and It's Not Even February

It's time for me to move someplace that's warm all year round.
At least for a little while. I just can't take this cold anymore.
It's depressing.
I want my tan back.
I want to stop wearing socks.
I'm totally over scarves and I'm not 100% in love with sweaters right now.


http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/index.jhtml?ml_video=61024

The above makes me happy today.

You're Not Attractive

Went to the bars this weekend. After a week of convalescence, I felt I owed it to myself to tie one on.
I have this to say.
Winter drinkers are just upsetting.

So, Mr. "I'm so drunk I can't form a coherent sentence much less maintain linear thought for more than 2 seconds", no I won't go home with you. Tempting though your stale beer and scotch breath is to my loins, you are not attractive.
At all.
Seriously.

And please. Stop telling me how good I smell. I know I smell good. I haven't been drinking since 4 this afternoon with the rest of my married friends before heading out to the bars to oggle women and try to get them to make out with me. I smell like a fucking line dried bath towel on a cool summer day compared to you.

Spring....where are you???

The Phantom Menace or...

An interminable series of cutaways and reaction shots. And no more than 10 seconds of two people acting in the same frame at the same time.

That's all I have to say about this utter piece of shit film.

Seriously???

Strep Throat???
COME ON!!
No one in my family has ever had strep. Except my mother who thinks MAYBE she had it in England. But was never diagnosed, that's just what they thought it was.
I cannot even count how many times I've been exposed to strep and never gotten it.
So much for the Bailey Family Immunity to all things throat/gland related.
That or...

I'm old.

Sigh

AT&T

CINGULAR


CINGUALR


AT&T







DEPP!




GRIECO!




GRIECO AND DEPP!


Sore throat + Fever = Rememebering obscure Dennis Miller Weekend Update segments.

Wow.

There is nothing like hearing yourself on the radio.

WXRT no less.
Amazing.

From a Fever of 101.

THE BEARS WIN!
HOLY SHIT.

"America's Team"???

Screw you Emeril!

Ok, so I upgraded my cable this past week so that I can watch my stories: the new (and apparently last season) of Rome. Don't get me started yet...a couple episodes in and we'll talk.
Anyway, as a result of the upgrade and necessitation of a cable box, I'm not getting WGN. I cannot tell you how much it's pissing me off. I HATE Good Morning America. Almost as much as I hate The Today Show. For real. I know that you can watch a half hour of WGN news in the morning and hear everything twice...I don't care. I like the rapport, I like the anchors...The Trifecta of News Hotness: Larry Potash, Mark Tamsulo, Paul Konrad...mmmmmm.... ANYWAY, I haven't been able to watch since last week, and this morning reminded me why I fucking need to call Comcast and figure out WHAT FUCKING GIVES.

Good Morning America boasts Emeril Lagassi as their "Cooking Correspondent". He was on this morning fixing up some instant heart attack type situation geared towards football on Sunday. Apparently ABC in New York has a huge fucking hard-on for The Saints. "The Saints this" and "The Saints that" and "I would have no problem fellating the Saints"... well, then fucking Emeril comes out with:
"I love the Bears. But the Saints are America's team. I'm sorry..."
WHAT??? SAYS WHO?? Why? Because of Katrina??? You've got to be fucking kidding me. Ok, maybe I'm going to hell for saying this. But, I'm a Bears fan. It's been 22 years since the Bears were in a Superbowl. It's been 13 years since a conference championship. Grossman may be the greenest thing since the Jolly Green Fucking Giant but,
It's our fucking turn.
Sorry, Saints. I'm not cheering for you. I don't care if that makes me an insensitive fuck. This is football. And I've had way too many heart attacks this season to just suddenly say with a benevolent smile:
"Go ahead, Saints. You deserve it."
Sorry. Nope.
Again.
This is football.
And you can BET YOUR ASS that if I was watching WGN in the morning like I'm supposed to...I wouldn't be hearing all that.
No.

And Bears...you better want it. You better want it bad. You gotta want it badder than a team that has a citywide, nay, NATIONWIDE tragedy to bolster it's "Underdog who everyone REAAALLY wants to see win" appeal.

Crap.
We're gonna get our asses handed to us by "good feelings and hope for tomorrow!".
Son of a...

Reality

One of the things that has brought me the most pain over the last year is other people's behavior in regards to relationships. I myself have erred in relationships and find myself unable to forgive myself in a lot of ways. I've resented how other people seem to unabashedly move through their lives and through other people. Yesterday my therapist told me that I needed to forgive my humanity and wondered if my inability to forgive myself reflected my anger towards others' humanity.
She then posed this question:
How does one take care of one's self when faced with the reality of humanity.
More specifically:
How does one take care of one's self when faced with the reality of one's OWN humanity?

Still more specifically:
How does one forgive one's self for being human?

We are imperfect beings. We are flawed. We will do wrong even when we know better. We will do forgiveable things even when we think they are unforgiveable.

This year, 2007, is all about the reality of humanity for me.

My flaws
Other people's flaws.
My judgements of others based on the harsh judgements I have for myself.

Reality is ugly sometimes, however, it can be forgiven.

Tourism in Wicker Park and Lots of Colons. (The Punctuation. Not the Organ.)

Those who know me, know of my absolute contempt for this particular area of Chicago. For this, there are many reasons:
douchebag ex-boyfriends, automobile breaking and entering and the area police's obstinate refusal to do anything about it, a complete abesence of parking...and finally:
The notion that Wicker Park is the Nexus of Cool held only by the young people living there smelling of wet coat and feelings.
No, fuck it, the whole fucking area smells like a fifth grade coat room. Is there an embargo on showering, shaving, and grooming in general???

The place is a shithole. It's a bunch of Trustafarians living in squallor "because it's cool to do so."
Indeed, apparently, living in a condemned loft complete with requisite hole-in-floor and rickety near-ladder-like stair case is the height of cosmopolitan according to these no-loads.

I had very nearly forgotten about my contempt for all things Wicker Park until this experience last week:
ToCro and I were headed out to see my drummer play a solo set at The Note. Now, here's the thing. I know where the place is. When I'm on foot. Fuck me if I can find it in a car. Anyway, we finally parked the car 5 leagues away and were walking down Milwaukee, hoping it was the right direction, and of course, the bar wasn't where I remembered it. So, I had ToCro ask for directions.
In Wicker Park.
I may as well have strapped an "I'm from the Real World" sandwich board on her and waited for jackals to eat her.
"Hey, excuse me... Do you know where The Note is? We got a little turned around..Stupid Milwaukee Avenue..ha ha."
(Which, in all fairness, if you don't know what you're doing on that road, you could be going the wrong way all day no matter how many times you turn around. It's the Bermuda Triangle of Chicago thoroughfares.)
To which someone replied:
"No...*snigger* we're not from around here."
Huh.
And neither were any of the other FIVE FUCKING RANDOM PEOPLE WE ASKED.
What happened?
They played French and pretended not to speak English.
THAT'S what happened.
"LOL, look at the freaks from somewhere that isn't awesome and totally cool and emo and Wicker Park. We don't want them here. Let's fuck with them."

What??? Are you kidding me?
It's so against Chicagoan nature I can't even wrap my brain around it.

So, here's what:
I propose we cut Wicker Park out of Chicago Maps and declare it a commonwealth. The lawless bastards can keep to themselves and set out on their porches with shotguns and horn-rimmed glasses shouting at people to
"Go Back to Your Own Neighborhood! We're too cool for you. But totally check out my awesome and totally ironic and cool vintage sweatshirt that I didn't get from Ragstock because that place totally sold out...so I went to the village discount. Which is also pretty trendy, but I was late for karaoke in Lincoln Square where I totally wrecked songs by screaming them. Ironically."

Fuck Wicker Park.
For serious.

That's Enough, Hasslehoff!

For fucking serious.

That's enough.

For the Record

I absofuckinglutely HATE these stupid match.com web cam ads where they have some douchebag pretending to be looking at his monitor and making various retarded faces to suggest that he's "Acting Naturally."
Also, there are no guys that good looking on match fucking dot com.
Yeah, I said it.

EDIT:

Like on myspace just now I saw one where this guy is chewing gum (charmingly) and removing what might as well be a striped goddamned shirt.

A Favorite Song

Thank You Joni...


Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons ev'rywhere
I've looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on ev'ryone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way
I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and junes and ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As ev'ry fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way

But now it's just another show
You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say I love you right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way

But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living ev'ry day

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all
I've looked at life from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
Its life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all
-Both Sides Now

Happy New Year!

007...

That alone bodes well for the tone of the year.


I am looking forward to what's next.