ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Week in IL in Pictures Part I















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Friday, August 22, 2008

Oh Good Lord: Britney Unplugged


http://frinko.com/what-britney-spears-really-sounds-like-on-stage.html

Sorry, this just had to go up immediately. You know, I kind of feel bad for her but after hearing this, well, some pity's been lost.

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Friday, August 15, 2008

What We Are Far From and So Close To

Joh.

Back in da Illinoise for about a week for Daddy's Birthday.

Pictures & stories to follow. Time to enjoy the crickets outside.

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Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Rainy Day Toss Up


Well, it's rainy here today. And rain pretty much only motivates me to eat some sort of cheese-based meal (grilled cheese, mac & cheese, cheese fries) and do one of two things depending on the heaviness of the rain...

A.) Couch, blanket & movies

or

B.) Visit a museum

So I'm supposed to go dancey pantsing tonight but am feeling WAY more motivated to instead walk around the MFA (am a member so it's free). But since I'm flat broke (no, literally flat broke) until tomorrow I can't buy myself a nice cheese dinner there but might be able to squeeze enough quarters together to get a chili cheese dog on the way home. Anyways, what would ultimately be the best is if George Clooney were at the museum at the same time & was like 'look at that short, fat ballerina....I MUST make her my ONE!' and bought me a fancy dinner & walked with me, hand in hand, though the MFA & we could comment on the art stuff & he would tell me about how astute my observations are, which they're not, but he'd think so just because you know, he instantly fell madly in love with me. Then he'd walk me home in the rain because we're both so concerned about Carbon emissions. But then I'd have to tell him the truth.

I think I might be engaged.

A few years back I wrote this post. Notice how I wanted a CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN instead of a ring? Well, a while later I DID get a chocolate fountain for Christmas from someone I was dating at the time. Did he read my blog & give that to me as a proposal to marry him? Because thinking back, I don't know that accepting a kitchen appliance in lieu of a pretty ring was such a bright statement to make. Also, does this mean that I have to give the chocolate fountain back? We never 'officially' broke up so do I have to call & make this more concrete? Oh god. What if he already IS married & when I stop up at his doorstep I then realize that all this time I DID have feelings for him & then it erupts into this whole thing & it comes out that he just only sorta had feelings for his wife but has been pining for me this whole time & so he quickly packs his bags & leaves his wife to move up to the Green Mountains with me so that we can have a small farm & run a Bed & Breakfast but then I'd have a breakdown because I'd be a homewrecker but he would be strong for me through it. And then 18 months later, after the magic wore off I'd have to question my decision to be with this dude because really, if we would have loved each other for real wouldn't we have made it work the first time? But then isn't fate involved with the whole chocolate fountain thing?

More importantly......ballet or museum?

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

I guess farting's out of the question


The following is an email that I received yesterday from a woman I used to work with. Look, I could go into it but, well, I think it speaks for itself.

I often warn women who are contemplating marriage to marry someone who can take care of them. When a woman marries, it ought to be to someone who is capable of taking her to the next level. If she comes from poverty, there is no reason for her to get married and still be impoverished. The role of the man is to take her to another place.

When she gets married, she ought to dress better, drive better, live better, and eat better, not constantly be in a struggle over where her next meal is coming from. My grandmother used to say, 'I can do bad all by myself'. For a woman desiring a mate, the objective, of course, would be to find a Christian man, who's settled, has goals, accomplishments and a job. But a goal-oriented and focused man can't just be approached any kind of way. So the woman who seeks this type of stability must make sure that he stands out above the crowd:

1. Make sure your relationship with God is strong and growing.

2. Make sure that you are presentable. Working from the inside out, your presentation should be representative o f both who you are and whom you seek. Appearance is a reflection of how you see yourself.

3. Have the ability to hold an intelligent conversation.

4. And most importantly, allow God to take control. You don't need to go after him. He's going to come after you, because after he sees and smells you and knows that you're in his presence, he's going to want to know who you are! I know there's somebody reading this who has been chasing after the 'man of your dreams,' but God says, 'Just sit still and allow patience to have her perfect work through Me. '

Furthermore, it's never a good idea to be too forward and too aggressive. Attempting to win a man's affection by jumping into bed with him will only backfire and cause him to lose interest in ever developing a lasting relationship. It causes him to lose respect for you and question your character.

However, if he sees that you are dressed with quality, that you smell like you are somebody, that you look like you're doing fine without him, then that will attract the right attention from him. He'll have no choice but to give you his attention. Stop looking so needy, climbing into bed, trying in vain to capture a man's heart.

Our young women need to be informed of how to catch and keep a man that will respect them.

P.S. Pass this on to every woman you know! 'If he can't meet you where you are....leave him where he's at!'

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Friday, August 01, 2008

Pickin' Up the Pieces and the Importance of Batting Cages


A year ago tomorrow I got up early, got ready & headed down to Springfield, IL. Down I-57 & 55 & a whole bunch of other Is until I got to Memorial Hospital. There, in the sunlit waiting room Mo, my stepmom, was sitting in a chair, doing Sukokus with a blanket over her lap.

She looked at me & said that Dad was about to go into surgery.

6 weeks before, Farrah & I were in the grocery store picking out meat for hamburgers when my Dad called & told me that he had cancer. Immediately, I became nauseous and reached for Farrah. Hindsight 20/20, I should have gotten into my car immediately & raced down to see him. But at the time all I could do was fight between handling reality & avoiding it. Avoiding it won.

So there we were, in a chilly waiting room the first week of August, knowing that it was the best of bad news (Prostate) yet still terrified and attempting to make small talk. Mo's training as a nurse was certainly a god-send, as she acted as a calming force despite her same fears.

'He's out and it looks really good'.

So we went to eat things completely opposed to our diets and headed off to bed.

The next day we brought dad home & made a pizza. I left on Maureen's request that dad needed to rest & if I was around that he wouldn't. She's right. He would have wanted to play pool and drink beer and hang out, showing me whatever new motorcycle he'd bought last week. And talk about baseball and physics. But that was not the time.

So I headed up north towards Chicago and upon reaching the 294/80/57/94-merge traffic stopped. And from the 2 Big Gulps I'd put into my belly, my bladder was full. A friend, urologist actually, called while I was sitting, contemplating whether I could angle it 'just right', to ask how the surgery went & if there was anything that he could do. 'Catheterize me, take one of those fancy U of C helicopters & fly down here', I responded. He laughed. I couldn't get up the nerve to 'angle' for fear of ruining the electric seat heaters in the car. Hold hold hold.

During this time, I'd gotten a call from a friend asking if I'd make her brother's 21st birthday party at some club in Chicago. 'Please please come! It'll be fun!!! You need some fun!', Farrah said. 15 minutes later, 5 feet from where I was before, I pulled over, parked my car, walked over to where as few people as possible would see me, hiked up my skirt, pulled down my underpants and released what I can only estimate was a liter of urine on to the side of the road.

Back in the car my phone rang incessantly. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah was playing a free show. Ethan really wanted to see them. Katie was going. So in my head I put together a plan to get home, unload the boxes that Mo & I picked up to help the move to Boston by myself, get on the train, to catch the El and walk up to the Metro to then catch a cab over to Amir's (Farrah's brother) birthday party. My friend, Michael, was back in town from China and wanted to hang out too so we could meet up after taking a cab back down to Hyde Park and make last call at Jimmy's.

And then traffic started moving again. Exits every 5 minutes. Must get home to shower and make it up to the north side. Phone ringing. Come have fun. Fun. Fun. Fun.

But I didn't want to. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to throw myself onto my bed and wiggle around like a fish out of water, crying while punching a pillow. Why the fuck did my dad have cancer? And why was I freaking out about it? This was nothing new. Mom has MS, Mo had cancer. Death and illness aren't new to this family. Shit, when I was 13 I had Lyme's Disease that went undiagnosed for 8 months, causing stroke-like symptoms, swollen joints, 1/4 of a year missing school to sit in doctors' offices, MRIs, CATScans, the reason that I quit dancing because they thought that dance was causing it. This was a drop in the bucket. Dad's fine. Right?

143rd Street came up. And I exited. Heading west I had figured out a new plan. In about a mile I went north on Cicero to where the 'Go-Karts' sign is and made a right. Parked the car. Dug out all of the quarters that I had. Left the phone in the car. Sprightly marched in a striped skirt and kitten heels through the go kart area, the miniature golf and toward the softball slow pitch. Picked up a bat, swung it in a more vertical 360 to loosen up my shoulder and entered a cage. Put my quarters in and waited for the machine to start its work.

I hit two rounds of balls. Hard. Knocked them to the netting. Focusing on each one of those 12 inch orbs and striking them with enough force to cause them to stop and reverse in an arc that had I known the starting point and angle could figure out exactly where they would land (wind excluded or included if I knew the wind differential). Yes, I got a 100% in Newtonian physics.

The look on the faces of the kids outside waiting to hit was priceless.

After that I went straight home, lugged all of the boxes upstairs (with the help of 3 dudes) & headed to Jimmy's with Michael & his friends because I knew that I could run home from there if my emotions hit zero.

Fast-forward to today...

Had anyone told me a year ago what the next 12 month cycle would include I might have laughed at them & said that they were lying. I probably would have responded with something like 'whatever, life can't get much more hectic or troubling'. I would have been very wrong.

Currently, work's slowed down, thank the plastic tree on my porch, because my life calendar is certainly full of events. Tomorrow's a quick trip to upstate New York for a wedding reception. Then Sunday my new roommate moves in! Despite apprehensiveness towards living with a roommate again, I think it'll be good. Especially on the ol' bank account. And then I won't feel all depressed cooking dinner for one all the time. And the superbonus is that she LOVES cats so Georgie & Henry are gonna get just that much more love (like they needed it!). And then on Tuesday I have a dentist appointment. And Thursday a girl-date with what is officially my favorite neighbor of ALL TIME, Jess, to go watch The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 (shut up, don't judge, I love that shit) & have root beer floats.

But for the biggest & certainly most awesome news of the summer....

My little brother's getting married!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He's so happy about it & Steph is as well & well, it's pretty much impossible not to be happy with them & for them. Such happy & good news that I can't help but constantly smile...probably all the way down to NY tomorrow morning.

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