Okay, I was going to just pop in and wiggle my fingers for a moment, but first I had to go and filter through the TEN new comments that were posted on my site. Some thoughts:
1. Thanks to Joe and Alice for their thoughtful comments. It still blows my mind that anyone would take the time to read my site if they don't know me personally. So thank you. Your comments are appreciated.
2. Of the ten comments I received, two were actually written by live human beings. The other EIGHT were simply spam relating to gay sex and weight loss pills, neither of which I am interested in. I just thought it was really funny that I'm getting weight loss spam. LOOK AT THE PICTURES, PEOPLE. I HAVE THE OPPOSITE PROBLEM.
Fifteen minutes 'til work... Time to start the daily meditation.
"I am irreplaceable. My workplace is a loving, supportive environment. I love my job. The fact that I capitalize off others' raging alcoholism has no effect whatsoever on my iron-clad self esteem. I love drunks, especially when I'm sober. I love fried food. I love that my boss values my work at precisely $2.33/hour."
Okay, this isn't turning out nearly as productive and positive as I intended, so I'll stop now.
In ten hours, I will be in bed with a gorgeous, intelligent, hilarious, warm, and loving man.
Okay, that's better.
Well, well. How many entries have I started with that phrase? I don't think I want to know. Here we are, pleasant Thursday morning. Car was parked in at the Clare, so I walked home, and I really must say it was a gorgeous morning. Was. Now it's just another grey mid-morning (did I just say mid-morning? 'cause it's 9:08. Since when did 9:08 become mid-morning and not early as hell?) in October. And since when is it almost November? I am going to see the Pixies exactly two weeks from tonight. Remember the old days, back when we got tickets and we had to wait nine months for the show - ample time to create a whole new living being, which, thankfully, we did not do - back when this whole business of seeing the Pixies seemed like a future mythological possibility - as in, "One Day Maybe (if God's not looking) I'll Go to Heaven" - and not, as it is, an actual event? And here it is upon us already. November. Month of visiting Dennis and Jennifer in Green Bay, month of Greg's show at Onopa, month of Thanksgiving at the Clare (two birds, folks! step right up!), and - best of all - MONTH WHICH IS STARTING WITH MY GOING TO THE FUCKING DENTIST.
Some of you may recall my mentioning earlier - or perhaps it got lost in my head - that I wanted Dick Cheney to take me to the dentist. This rant was caused by my hearing Dick Cheney defend the current state of our health care system, live, on national television, during the Vice Presidential debates (for other times Dick Cheney has bold-faced lied on live, national television, please recall each and every of the several times we were told, "There is a link between al-Qaeda and Saddam Hussein"). My mother, upon hearing of my threat to personally write to Dick Cheney requesting him to take my Johnny Rotten-ass mouth to the dentist, decided to intervene. Maybe she did it out of love, and maybe she did it because she didn't want Dick Cheney jumping down her throat. What matters here is I AM GOING TO THE DENTIST. For the first time in seven years. The last time these smoky pearly greys saw a cleaning was in 1997. I was nineteen years old, and my bald head had just moved back from Champaign, IL, after having my heart ripped in half by a man who, it turned out, only loved me for my bald head and braces. I in turn justified my existence and declared my independence by moving back to ROCKFORD and having my braces taken off. It was at this time, at the ripe age of nineteen, that I inherited the ever so lovely partial denture which has been my salvation for the last seven years. The braces were taken off, my teeth were cleaned, and as a lovely consolation prize I was given (courtesy of, again, my mother) this shiny plate of steel and fake bone I now refer to as My Teeth. Without My Teeth, I look something like a bunny, a sight none of you will ever, ever see as long as I live. Once I'm dead, you can all stick me in the casket Without My Teeth and have a good laugh. Dead people don't smile. Unless you had my lips sewn up. Which would be really funny. But for now, the Teeth stay. And what are left of my Natural Teeth will be cleaned as of this coming Monday. And what a glorious day that shall be, not only because my Teeth, All of Them will be cleaned, but also because the day will have finally come when I, my mother's daughter, am forced to bring MY THREE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER to a dentist's office situated oh-so-inconveniently directly above a CHUCK E. CHEESE, so that I, too, will have to live through the pain of being called a horrible mother because, after dropping hella cash at the dentist's office (okay, so it's my mom's money, Maddie doesn't have to know that), I do not have sufficient funds to squander on Skee Ball.
And in case there's anyone still lagging behind, I've got news for you people: remember "someday"? The "someday" your parents always warned you about? It happened, like, YEARS ago. You're already living it, and have been. You were just too stupid to know.
Not dead. Everyone's been sick. Okay now. Work sucks. Going to Charleston in December. Lost my mind, got it back. Surprisingly is working better now in terms of prioritization; hence little blogging. Although sentence structure in current entry may suggest severe stroke, promise can still form complete sentences. Debating hospice work this winter on Mondays - volunteer - at Greg's suggestion/with his help. Will research. Still researching bankruptcy. Taking Maddie's art show down next week - successful (i.e., no one complained, some are even buying). Offered job at Clare; turned it down due to irrepressible desire to make love to boss, and boss' repeated surrender to my advances (in private, of course). Fear this could lead to rather lengthy and involved sexual harassment dispute, if it weren't for the fact that no one's disputing.
Reading. Watching tv. Taking it easy. Enjoying weekend with my best friend and love. More grateful, more in love than I have ever been. Ever. It's warm and it tastes like coffee and chocolate. Raspberries? With a little crunch. And served inside a velvet pillow (for cuddling, of course, not eating). Comes with a back massager, dishwasher, live musician, poet, some nursing experience (fantastic for those occasional pesky nervous breakdowns), great experience in HR/PR/CPR/PBR/PMS(mine)/IRL/VW. I'd tell you to go out and get one, but there's only one and he's already taken. Sorry, ladies. (Well, no, actually, I'm not. Just grateful, humbled, and gosh darn excited).
Bath time.
1. I just had to share this after being referred to it from Tracey's site (for the full transcript, click here). God bless Jon Stewart, amen.
2. Hypothesis proven: Food, drink, and especially love are far better when the weather gets cold. :)
3. As of this year, my official take on Sweetest Day has been changed, from "If I Don't Remember it From Childhood, It's Not a Real Holiday/Screw Hallmark," to, "Well, I'll Be Damned. It's Not So Bad After All." Explanatory photo coming soon.
If I haven't been as attentive as I normally like to be on this site, it's only because the last week has been NUTS. Thurs: show in Green Bay. Fri: show at Cactus (see Tracey's blog for gory photographs of our magnificent descent into our high school selves...). Sat: Lunch with Jen and Paul, lots of dragging my hungover body around, work. Sun: Drive to Rockford to pick up Maddie. Mon: Cleaned house like manic obsessive freak, did laundry, went to work. Tues: More laundry, started painting office. Wed (today): Finished painting/rearranging office (yay!), now going to get ready for work.
Hit me. Come on, I dare ya.
Holy rock balls of fire am I delirious. Last night's show was AWESOME. Picked up gear from Mike's and left town with John G. about half an hour past schedule, but luckily there were no cops en route to Green Bay, so we made it in an hour and forty-five, including two stops. Not bad. I realize that I'm biased (just a wee bit), but holy GOD does Greg's band rock. What a beautiful experience. Nothing in this world makes me happier than to see someone I love doing something they love, and doing it well, and to see everyone else enjoying it just as much. Gregory, you rock my world. There are simply not enough ways for me to tell you how much I love and adore you. And we get to do it again tonight! With Channels! Yay! I am SO excited particularly for Jason tonight. He introduced Tracey to Jawbox in high school, and they have both been huge fans of J Robbins ever since. Jason is going to be on Cloud Nine. Not to mention, this is the first time in THREE YEARS that Tracey and I have gone out for a drink together, without the kids around. Three years, people. This is my best friend we're talking about. Three years is waaaay too long.
Anyway, enough anticipation. Last night was incredible, not only for the obvious fact that I got to watch the love of my life rock his beautiful, sexy world apart, but also because of the bands involved. Last night, I hung out with my boyfriend, his ex-girlfriend, my ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend, as well as my friend John and his former attempted relationship. To most people, this probably sounds completely bizarre and extremely uncomfortable at best. And it wasn't. No awkwardness, everyone just having a good time, enjoying the music, and genuinely happy for each other. What a gift it is in this life to be surrounded by people who are so caring and open. And regardless of the (actually fortunate) fact that our relationship did not work out as lovers, I would be leaving out a huge, huge chunk of Truth if I did not at least make mention here that I would probably not have met Greg, would not have had the honor of calling Andy, John Burger, Rory, Sara Jones, Keri, and John Gehring - and later, through Greg, Jeff and Carmen - my friends if it had not been for Kurt Schoenung, who for this reason will always have my respect and, most of all, gratitude. I would not be the person I am today, would not have had the pleasure and the happiness these friendships have given me, if not for that brief period of time we spent together. I could never call Milwaukee home until I met these people. And so even though I know you'll never read this in a million years: Thank you, Kurt. It is amazing to me, it is such a beautiful paradox, that by being honest with yourself and with me, by essentially breaking my heart, you ended up giving me the biggest gift I have ever been given aside from my daughter, and that gift is Greg. You led me where I needed to go, and I can never thank you enough for that.
Not to mention, your band, like, totally rocks.
Wow, what a day ahead. Going to Russ's house to finish the DVD, finally - the last one I tried to do was on DV+R, and apparently I need a DV-R. Who knew there was a difference. Not I. So I go. Again. Running errands, doing laundry, washing the car. Picking up gear for the Mandates at Mike O'Leary's house at 4:30 to take to Green Bay, dropping off Maddie at Ryan's, picking up John Gehring and Jeff Benske, and then hitting the road! Tonight's show should be a lot of fun, with two other Milwaukee bands playing (Mandates and The Reverse), both of which include some good friends. Driving back into town tonight, SLEEPING IN tomorrow (!), then Tracey and Jason are coming up for another Seahorses show, this time with Channels and Pilot to Gunner, at the Cactus Club. Work Saturday, show/wedding reception after work (congrats Ken and Meg!), off Sunday, work Monday....
Time to get rolling.
Ooh, what a week. My brain feels like it's been put through a blender and then served over ice with a lovely pickled garnish to a bloodthirsty monster. Tracey, Juliana, and Ava came up for a sleepover on Sunday so Trace and I could set up the girls' art show at the HiFi. There are still some problems with the DVD I'm *trying* to make, but all should be sorted out this afternoon (thanks for letting me take over your computer, Russ!). DVD and car troubles aside (Tracey's battery died while en route to Russ' house), we had a really great time. I can't remember the last time she and I did anything creative together. Probably high school. I'm so glad we did this.
Ryan watched Maddie for me last night, despite the fact that Karoline gave me the night off of work. I called Ryan and told him I had the night off, but that there were still a bizillion things I had to do, and that if I had to go over the Hoan Bridge one more time I was going to jump off of it. 'Nough said. So I went to Greg's, had a nice salmon dinner, and spent three hours sitting at the bar writing. Greg has today off work, and I'm hoping to hang out for an hour or so before I have to face the grease pit that is the Palomino. Laundry, dishes, blah blah blah.
I will mention quickly that I watched the Vice Presidential debate last night (I know - take the night off to relax, and I end up screaming at the television) and am feeling a bit more optimistic about the upcoming election. I couldn't help but laugh at Edwards' poke at Cheney about the Halliburton contract: "We also thought it was wrong to have a $20 billion fund out of which seven and a half billion was going to go to a no-bid contract for Halliburton, the vice president’s former company. It was wrong then, it’s wrong now." THANK YOU!
Oh, and: "They sent 40,000 American troops into Iraq without the body armor they needed. They sent them without the armored vehicles they needed. While they were on the ground fighting they lobbied the Congress to cut their combat pay. This is the height of hypocrisy." THANK YOU!
And let us not forget...: "Here’s why we didn’t think Halliburton should have a no bid contract. While he was C.E.O. of Halliburton, they paid millions of dollars in fines for providing false information on on their company, just like Enron and Ken Lay. They did business with Libya and Iran, two sworn enemies of the United States. They’re now under investigation for having bribed foreign officials during that period of time. Not only that, they’ve gotten a $7 billion no-bid contract in Iraq and, instead of part of their money being withheld, which is the way it’s normally done, because they’re under investigation, they’ve continued to get their money." THANK YOU!
One more and I'm done, this one from Dick: "We’ve done a lot to reduce the cost of health care."
Don't get me started. This was the point at which Greg came running out of the bathroom yelling, "MEDICARE SUCKS!" and I told Greg that I want Dick Cheney to personally take me to the dentist and pay for the fillings I've needed and haven't been able to afford for the last FOUR YEARS.
That's what I want. In fact, maybe I'll write a letter to him today. I live in a swing state. You want me to swing? TAKE MY SOON-TO-BE JOHNNY ROTTEN ASS MOUTH TO THE F&*%$#! DENTIST, GIVE MY GAY UNCLE SOME HEALTH CARE AND AN APOLOGY FOR MAKING THE BURIAL OF HIS PARTNER AN EVEN MORE DIFFICULT TASK THAN IT ALREADY WAS, DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE 50% DROP-OUT RATE IN MPS, AND WHILE YOU'RE THERE IN THE SCHOOLS, PUT SOMETHING ON THE GODDAMN MENU THAT REMOTELY RESEMBLES NATURAL FOOD, NOT SOME PRE-PACKAGED, PRE-COOKED, FROZEN AND RE-COOKED, RE-CONSTITUTED, PETRIFIED JUNGLE OF SUGAR AND GARBAGE! OH, AND TELL YOUR BOSS TO LET HIS OIL BUDDIES KNOW THAT MY CAR WILL BE IN NEED OF AN OIL CHANGE IN APPROXIMATELY 1200 MILES. AND WHILE YOU'RE TALKING TO HIM, MAKE HIM READ THE CONSTITUTION, ESPECIALLY THE BILL OF RIGHTS, CONCERNING SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE. TELL HIM TO KEEP HIS BIBLE OUT OF MY VAGINA. Thank you and have a nice day.