Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me five billion times, shame on me.
05 October 2008
01 October 2008
And we move on...
I've been writing here for a little less than five years. I've had two instances where I had a sudden increase in readers. The first was one I was a guest editor two November's ago. A few days later the ads hit, and people left all over the place. I did too, for a spell, bouncing over to the UK version until they put ads up and then I beat the drums of hypocrisy all the way back to here. Then last month Mary was kind enough to mention this journal in something she wrote, and people came by to see what was going on. I've enjoyed getting to know some new people since then.
But as we found out today, this is all going "POOF!" at the end of the month. So it happens again. I don't pretend to know the business world very well anymore, but it seems like every time AOL makes a decision, they stick it to the few people who are left. The only reason a decision like this gets made is financial.
This will force me to do what I should have done a while ago and move over to Blogger, so I am not concerned about myself. I hope folks who have been kind enough to stop by here will do so there.
It's inevitable that some people who had an AOL journal will stop writing. I can think of at least ten people that I lost touch with after the ads mess. Losing this space doesn't really bother me since there is an alternative, but the idea of seeing people disappear again depresses me.
But as we found out today, this is all going "POOF!" at the end of the month. So it happens again. I don't pretend to know the business world very well anymore, but it seems like every time AOL makes a decision, they stick it to the few people who are left. The only reason a decision like this gets made is financial.
This will force me to do what I should have done a while ago and move over to Blogger, so I am not concerned about myself. I hope folks who have been kind enough to stop by here will do so there.
It's inevitable that some people who had an AOL journal will stop writing. I can think of at least ten people that I lost touch with after the ads mess. Losing this space doesn't really bother me since there is an alternative, but the idea of seeing people disappear again depresses me.
30 September 2008
And a happy October to you too
Man, am I glad to see September go away. More stuff has happened this month that I can recall, not all of it bad, but it has been way too eventful.
The aftermath of our flooded basement can be summed up like this: eh. It could have been so much worse. We were fortunate to have someone come out the next day to rip up the carpet and dry the floors and walls out. Most of the material stuff that had to be pitched belonged to people who don't live here--the basement is mostly used for storage--and should have been dealt with a while ago. I hate to sound unsympathetic, but procrastination will get you every time. The residual aggravation is that the garage is full of things that I hate looking at (mostly because little of it actually belongs to us) and I doubt I can create enough room for the cars before it gets cold out. I can't wait to move out of this joint.
Desmond (9 months) has now been out of the womb longer than he was in it. He seems more like a little man than a baby recently, albeit one that still only has five teeth (three new ones--we've had some long nights here recently),is dependent on us for almost everything and eats meat from a jar. He is sufficiently mobile and trying to get into everything, which means the door to the basement is closed 24/7 now. He is not an expert at crawling as he still cannot seem to scoot on his knees but does the army crawl very well. He babbles incessantly whenever he is awake and it is music to my ears. He is such a happy kid. There were many times this month where it seemed that all we had was stress, and every time all it took was a look in his direction to be reminded that we have it pretty good. What an amazing little boy. How did we get to be so lucky?
I'm happy to see the tide of the election starting to stretch more and more towards Obama. I've decided that I can't watch the VP debate this week because I can't take the cringe moments of Sarah Palin anymore. It's become uncomfortable to watch. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
Who am I kidding? I'm not going to watch the debate because it falls smack dab in the middle of Game 2 of the playoffs. I have been low key about baseball this summer, and intentionally so. I have enjoyed this season as I have no other, but the "real" season starts now. I'm 41, been following the Cubs since I was 5 and no team ever won 97 games until this year. Number of wins aside, this is clearly the best Cubs team of my lifetime; best pitching, best defense, best management. The time is right. This should be the year.
However, I am not assuming anything. I don't believe in curses, jinxes or anything of the sort. Every past post-season failure of the Cubs has been the result of not being the best team. They were outplayed last year by Arizona, much as they were in previous playoff series by Florida, Atlanta, San Francisco and San Diego.
They should beat Los Angeles, and then they should beat Philadelphia or Milwaukee, and then they should beat Boston or Anaheim or Tampa or the White Sox (gulp) in the World Series. They should. Do it, please. I am not getting any younger.
By the way, this is the first time in 102 years that both Chicago baseball teams have made the playoffs in the same season. If both somehow managed to make it to the World Series I am fairly certain that this city would implode. The Sox took a bit of the luster off that possibility by actually winning a World Series three years ago, but it would still be the most intense ten days in the history of Chicago. I'm not rooting for or against the Sox to get there; all my energy is focused on the Cubs.
Do it please. I beseech thee.
The aftermath of our flooded basement can be summed up like this: eh. It could have been so much worse. We were fortunate to have someone come out the next day to rip up the carpet and dry the floors and walls out. Most of the material stuff that had to be pitched belonged to people who don't live here--the basement is mostly used for storage--and should have been dealt with a while ago. I hate to sound unsympathetic, but procrastination will get you every time. The residual aggravation is that the garage is full of things that I hate looking at (mostly because little of it actually belongs to us) and I doubt I can create enough room for the cars before it gets cold out. I can't wait to move out of this joint.
Desmond (9 months) has now been out of the womb longer than he was in it. He seems more like a little man than a baby recently, albeit one that still only has five teeth (three new ones--we've had some long nights here recently),is dependent on us for almost everything and eats meat from a jar. He is sufficiently mobile and trying to get into everything, which means the door to the basement is closed 24/7 now. He is not an expert at crawling as he still cannot seem to scoot on his knees but does the army crawl very well. He babbles incessantly whenever he is awake and it is music to my ears. He is such a happy kid. There were many times this month where it seemed that all we had was stress, and every time all it took was a look in his direction to be reminded that we have it pretty good. What an amazing little boy. How did we get to be so lucky?
I'm happy to see the tide of the election starting to stretch more and more towards Obama. I've decided that I can't watch the VP debate this week because I can't take the cringe moments of Sarah Palin anymore. It's become uncomfortable to watch. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
Who am I kidding? I'm not going to watch the debate because it falls smack dab in the middle of Game 2 of the playoffs. I have been low key about baseball this summer, and intentionally so. I have enjoyed this season as I have no other, but the "real" season starts now. I'm 41, been following the Cubs since I was 5 and no team ever won 97 games until this year. Number of wins aside, this is clearly the best Cubs team of my lifetime; best pitching, best defense, best management. The time is right. This should be the year.
However, I am not assuming anything. I don't believe in curses, jinxes or anything of the sort. Every past post-season failure of the Cubs has been the result of not being the best team. They were outplayed last year by Arizona, much as they were in previous playoff series by Florida, Atlanta, San Francisco and San Diego.
They should beat Los Angeles, and then they should beat Philadelphia or Milwaukee, and then they should beat Boston or Anaheim or Tampa or the White Sox (gulp) in the World Series. They should. Do it, please. I am not getting any younger.
By the way, this is the first time in 102 years that both Chicago baseball teams have made the playoffs in the same season. If both somehow managed to make it to the World Series I am fairly certain that this city would implode. The Sox took a bit of the luster off that possibility by actually winning a World Series three years ago, but it would still be the most intense ten days in the history of Chicago. I'm not rooting for or against the Sox to get there; all my energy is focused on the Cubs.
Do it please. I beseech thee.
14 September 2008
Some days are better than others
Thursday, September 11, was a beautiful day here just outside Chicago. It's that way every single year it seems since 2001, when it was one of those perfect late-summer days where there isn't a cloud in the sky, the air is warm but there is little humidity and you tell yourself that you could handle living in a place where it would be like that 365 days a year.
And yet I was grumpy as hell.
First, and I don't know how to say this without sounding like an arrogant jerk, but I am completely fed up with never being able to approach 9/11 without being bombarded with the command to "never forget." Really? Gee, I've lived by O'Hare airport pretty much my entire life. Every time I see the underside of a plane I think about watching the second plane hit the WTC. The only way I'll ever forget September 11 is when I die.
Here's the thing, though, I want to forget it. Well, in a way. If I had my druthers, I'd forget about September 11, 2002. See, every year, when the rest of the nation flashes back to 2001, I can't help but think about 2002. My father died that June and the first anniversary of the attacks three months later drove me crazy. I was encased with grief over my sudden loss, and I couldn't stand the collective grief of an entire nation. I wanted to stand up and scream, demanding that my father be remembered in the way that every one else was-read his name, toss a flower into a pond, ring a bell.
It wasn't the most rational of reactions, but then grief discriminates when someone you love dies; that person automatically goes to the head of the line.
I must be the only person in the world who thinks more about 9/11/02 than 2001. I can recall most of where I was all day in 2001. I guarantee that I can recall every single thing about 2002.
Second, I went to the doctor Thursday afternoon for a cortisone shot. My back is better but still iffy, and my doctor recommended a shot. Big deal. I was born with a kidney defect that didn't show up until I was nine and necessitated major surgery. I have had other medical issues since and I bet that I have had a needle jammed into me over one thousand times. I've never had any kind of reaction to one. Until this one, of course. Heck, I blanched just at the shot of Novocaine they gave me to numb my spine and had to wait thirty minutes before they could give me the cortisone shot. That one didn't hurt at all, yet within two minutes of getting it I was puking into a garbage can in the doctor's office.
What should have been a fifteen minute process took two hours. I was sleeping this morning when I felt a tug on my lower back. It was Desmond pulling at a band-aid that they must have applied after the shot. I had no idea it was there. Forty-eight hours later Desmond tried to take it off but couldn't. He did succeed in making me yelp. As did Kristen when she yanked it off.
Some days are dry, some days are leaky
Yesterday (Friday) we had a plumber come out to investigate a leak in a pipe running from the first floor toilet to the basement. The leak itself wasn't bad, but the growth accompanying it was, in a word, nasty. Sure enough, the seal beneath the toilet blew and there has been a trickle of "stuff" seeping steadily into the surrounding area for who knows how long. And what we can see growing on the outside of the pipe is but a smidgen of what is inside the Petry dish. A floor has to be ripped up; baseboards have to be replaced.
Some days come clean, other days are sneaky
Around the time that we found this out it started to rain, and it pretty much hasn't stopped. According to the news, the area where we live has had about eight inches of rain since Friday midnight. We have a basement. A nice full, finished basement that we barely use. Other people use it store stuff. Stuff like furniture that doesn't fit into smaller homes now. Stuff like boxes of crap that should have been dealt with a long time ago.
Some days take less, but most days take more
Well, it's been dealt with now. There's been water coming into the basement all day. The pump works, it just can't keep up with the volume. There is a lake behind our home that wasn't there yesterday. Many backyards are now part of this lake. Neighbors behind us have first-floor flooding. I know things for us could be a lot worse.
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor
Still, there's carpeting that's been destroyed, and wood work that will need to be replaced. The water keeps coming in slowly and every time I think I have a handle on it I come back in fifteen minutes and feel my feet sink a little deeper into the water-logged rug. We got most of what needed to be salvaged up off the floor, but it is going to have to be moved upstairs eventually so that the carpeting can be ripped out.
Some days are sulky, some days have a grin
As I said, it could be worse. We could be in Galveston or Houston. Of course, I heard a forecast just an hour or so ago that gives the possibility of seven more inches of rain here in the next 24 hours, courtesy of what is left of Ike. It's not raining here right now, but it is supposed to start again in about two hours, and it looks like once it does that it won't stop for a while. I'm seriously concerned about waking up to two feet of water in the basement instead of two inches. I don't think I can do anything to stop it.
And some days have bouncers and won't let you in
And yet I was grumpy as hell.
First, and I don't know how to say this without sounding like an arrogant jerk, but I am completely fed up with never being able to approach 9/11 without being bombarded with the command to "never forget." Really? Gee, I've lived by O'Hare airport pretty much my entire life. Every time I see the underside of a plane I think about watching the second plane hit the WTC. The only way I'll ever forget September 11 is when I die.
Here's the thing, though, I want to forget it. Well, in a way. If I had my druthers, I'd forget about September 11, 2002. See, every year, when the rest of the nation flashes back to 2001, I can't help but think about 2002. My father died that June and the first anniversary of the attacks three months later drove me crazy. I was encased with grief over my sudden loss, and I couldn't stand the collective grief of an entire nation. I wanted to stand up and scream, demanding that my father be remembered in the way that every one else was-read his name, toss a flower into a pond, ring a bell.
It wasn't the most rational of reactions, but then grief discriminates when someone you love dies; that person automatically goes to the head of the line.
I must be the only person in the world who thinks more about 9/11/02 than 2001. I can recall most of where I was all day in 2001. I guarantee that I can recall every single thing about 2002.
Second, I went to the doctor Thursday afternoon for a cortisone shot. My back is better but still iffy, and my doctor recommended a shot. Big deal. I was born with a kidney defect that didn't show up until I was nine and necessitated major surgery. I have had other medical issues since and I bet that I have had a needle jammed into me over one thousand times. I've never had any kind of reaction to one. Until this one, of course. Heck, I blanched just at the shot of Novocaine they gave me to numb my spine and had to wait thirty minutes before they could give me the cortisone shot. That one didn't hurt at all, yet within two minutes of getting it I was puking into a garbage can in the doctor's office.
What should have been a fifteen minute process took two hours. I was sleeping this morning when I felt a tug on my lower back. It was Desmond pulling at a band-aid that they must have applied after the shot. I had no idea it was there. Forty-eight hours later Desmond tried to take it off but couldn't. He did succeed in making me yelp. As did Kristen when she yanked it off.
Some days are dry, some days are leaky
Yesterday (Friday) we had a plumber come out to investigate a leak in a pipe running from the first floor toilet to the basement. The leak itself wasn't bad, but the growth accompanying it was, in a word, nasty. Sure enough, the seal beneath the toilet blew and there has been a trickle of "stuff" seeping steadily into the surrounding area for who knows how long. And what we can see growing on the outside of the pipe is but a smidgen of what is inside the Petry dish. A floor has to be ripped up; baseboards have to be replaced.
Some days come clean, other days are sneaky
Around the time that we found this out it started to rain, and it pretty much hasn't stopped. According to the news, the area where we live has had about eight inches of rain since Friday midnight. We have a basement. A nice full, finished basement that we barely use. Other people use it store stuff. Stuff like furniture that doesn't fit into smaller homes now. Stuff like boxes of crap that should have been dealt with a long time ago.
Some days take less, but most days take more
Well, it's been dealt with now. There's been water coming into the basement all day. The pump works, it just can't keep up with the volume. There is a lake behind our home that wasn't there yesterday. Many backyards are now part of this lake. Neighbors behind us have first-floor flooding. I know things for us could be a lot worse.
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor
Still, there's carpeting that's been destroyed, and wood work that will need to be replaced. The water keeps coming in slowly and every time I think I have a handle on it I come back in fifteen minutes and feel my feet sink a little deeper into the water-logged rug. We got most of what needed to be salvaged up off the floor, but it is going to have to be moved upstairs eventually so that the carpeting can be ripped out.
Some days are sulky, some days have a grin
As I said, it could be worse. We could be in Galveston or Houston. Of course, I heard a forecast just an hour or so ago that gives the possibility of seven more inches of rain here in the next 24 hours, courtesy of what is left of Ike. It's not raining here right now, but it is supposed to start again in about two hours, and it looks like once it does that it won't stop for a while. I'm seriously concerned about waking up to two feet of water in the basement instead of two inches. I don't think I can do anything to stop it.
And some days have bouncers and won't let you in
12 September 2008
09 September 2008
Riddle me this
A question for any of the white woman who have switched their support from Obama to McCain in light of Sarah Palin being named the VP nominee for the GOP:
Why? What could possibly be the reason that you would switch? Has Sarah Palin caused you to have an epiphany on women's issues?
I'd wager that it has a lot more to do with skin color than reproductive organs.
I'm not female, obviously, but I would think that the stark differences on womens' issues in the two campaigns equate this as a vote between Gloria Steinem and Phyllis Schlafly. And I don't see how one could change their mind simply because a woman is part of the ticket now.
Last question: Where the hell is Hillary Clinton? Why isn't she out there clearly defining the differnces between her and Sarah Palin?
It couldn't be that she is thinking more about 2012 is it?
08 September 2008
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