EEE - Chicago: Observations, Opinions, and Mindless Drivel

My Dear Abby Letters

Dear Abby-
I have a big problem.
My next door neighbor, Harold, walks down the street every morning to buy the newspaper from the box on the corner.
I have told Harold many MANY times that if he were to get a monthly subscription to the newspaper it would save him 23c a day and $1.02 on Sundays - that's an average of $10.42 a month!- AND it would be delivered right to his door every morning.
But Harold refuses to subscribe to the newspaper.
I think this is foolish and irresponsible.
How can I make Harold see the error of his ways?

---

Dear Abby-
I am a basketball coach with a losing record. In fact, my team has not won a single game in four seasons.
Recently, we played a game against a much better team. I knew from the offset that we were horribly out-classed. I haven't gotten around to teaching my girls what a "basket" is yet or how to "dribble" or "pass" - I figure they can learn that later. Or maybe not.
Abby, this other team creamed us. They were well-organized, bright, athletic girls who had been taught how to play the game well.
After the first half we were down 59-0. My team did not back down. I thought that the other team might less us score a couple baskets out of pity or even purposely flub up their defense but they did not. In the end, we lost by 100 points. My girls did not score a single point.
Should I have the other coach fired for being mean? Otherwise, how will these girls ever learn how to be dependent on everyone but themselves for success or how to take handouts?
You'd think we were trying to prepare them to stand on their own or something.
Sheesh.

---

Dear Abby-
I hope you can help me with a problem I've been having.
The problem involves my cousing "Betsy." Now, Betsy is a very sweet girl and I like her a lot, but she is EXHAUSTING.
She has been engaged for nearly six years now and every time she changes her mind about the caterer or the venue or the flowers or the groom, I am the first person she calls. And let me tell you, those phone calls ain't short.
The thought of actually attending her wedding brings me close to tears. I have tried many tactics to get out of this wedding. I insulted her mother, she forgave me; I insulted the groom, she found a new one; I enlisted in a 12-month research program at the South Pole, she postponed her wedding for a year.
Finally, I thought I'd found a way out of attending this wretched event. I got myself arrested and thrown in jail.
You'd think this would be fool-proof right? A sort of "Don't Get Out Of Jail Free" Card.
But no.
I found out this morning that she's been in talks with the Prosecuter to get me released on a three-day pass, under her supervision, so that I can attend all of the wedding events.
Help! I don't know what else to do!

---

Dear Abby,
I have noticed a trend among men to show off their buff, studly biceps. In the summer, short-sleeved shirts are common and some even take their shirts off completely when at the beach or while exercizing.
This is unfair to women. It's just plain sexually arousing to some of us. This can make us extremely uncomfortable.
Personally, when I see a pair of naked, manly arms, I get all gooey and girly and I do NOT like it! I am a mature, rational woman, by god, but there's just something about a nicely formed bicep... Mmmmm......
Dammit, Abby! Why can't men cover up their manly bits so that we women don't get hot and bothered??? I think men should start wearing burqas. What's the best way to make this happen?

---

Dear Abby,
I have a serious problem. I am a shopoholic. It's compulsive. I see things in the store and I just HAVE to buy them. It doesn't even matter what they are: shoes, food, cordless drills, outboard motors (I don't even own a boat! Though I suppose that's only because I've never been to a boat store before!)
A few months ago, I left the house to run to the supermarket and there was such a great sale that I just couldn't bear to leave. Normally, when I get into one of my shopping "trips" the store will eventually close and I'll go home. But Abby! The supermarket is open 24 hours a day!
I found that they had everything I need there: food, drink, reading materials, a public restroom for... eh hem... and a kicking 80s music soundtrack! For the past 12 weeks I have just been filling up my cart and then, when it gets full, I put everything back and start all over again. It's been heaven!
I just found out that the store will be closed from midnight to 6am tomorrow for their semi-annual inventory.
This means I'll have to go home. I called my husband to let him know I'll be back soon and to see if he needs me to pick up a rump roast or some milk.
Abby, he was furious with me!
Should I have suggested a rotisserie chicken instead?

***

Dear Abby,
I'm single and I don't know why.
Here is a list of my requirements in a potential mate:
1. He must be rich. And I don't mean "I own my own house and drive a decent car" rich. I mean "I own my own mulit-billion dollar corporation and have a fleet of private jets at my disposal" rich.
2. He must be hot. I want a face like Brad Pitt on a body with "300" abs.
3. If he is currently married (with or without spawn) he must have an iron-clad Pre-nup so that his future Ex won't get all the goods.
4. He must not have any pesky older relatives that he has to care for in old age unless they are safely tucked away in a home for the old and annoying and kept in a perpetual coma via an IV drip.
5. If he has any children (God forbid!) he must immediately fake a paternity test (if necessary) to prove that he is NOT the father so that he is no longer responsible for them and then he must cut them out of his life for good and sign any trust funds over to me.
6. He must drive either a Bentley or a Rolls. I suppose a Mercedes might do in a pinch, but only if it's a really big one that dumps a monkey ton of greenhouse gases into the environment and gets less than 2 mpg.
7. He must have in his employ no fewer than six hot male lackeys whom I can extort into pleasuring me sexually and then have fired.
8. He must have at least eight homes on six continents as well as a yacht or two.
9. If he has any addictions, they must be to cool drugs like vicadin or coke and nothing "ghetto" like meth or crack.
10. He has to have a sense of humor.
I have yet to find a man who fits my criteria. Am I looking in the wrong places or does the perfect man really NOT exist????

---

Dear Abby,
I have fantastic breasts. Seriously. They're fabulous. Not too big, not too small, round, lush, firm. They're perfect.
My problem is that men are constantly staring at them. I mean ALL the time. I can't remember the last time a man looked me in the eye.(Aside from my cousin Steve - who btw is the BEST SHOPPING PARTNER EVER!!!!)
My sister says that it's my own fault for dressing the way I do, but I think this is a cop out.
Just because I wear t-shirts that are three sizes too small with words emblazed across the front like "Lookie HERE!" and "Yep! They're REAL!" does not give men (and some women?!?!) the right to ogle me.
Does it??

---

Dear Abby,
Two months ago I read this wonderful book called "Treat Your Husband Like a Hound and Gain a Loyal Slobbering Slave for Life."
It worked great!
For every good thing he did, I'd give him a treat (usually a strip of bacon or a chunk of cheese but sometimes a little nookie if he was a VERY good boy)
And when he was bad, I'd swat him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper or squirt water in his face.
Everything was great for the first six weeks or so, but now things have started to change and not for the better.
Last week he tracked mud all over the house and before that, he piddled twice on my great grandmother Enid's heirloom rug!
I suppose I could live with these things, but yesterday I found out he knocked up the betch down the street!
Should I have him neutered?

---

Dear Abby,
Recently I went to a family gathering and my 7yo grand-nephew, my niece's child, said to me: "You have grey hair!"
Abby, I have never been so offended in my life. What right did this little punk have to tell me that my hair is grey? It's "carolina blue" thank you very much, and cost me a pretty penny, too!
My response to this officious little brat was: "Yeah? Well you're ugly and no one loves you!"
My niece is very angry with me. I told her that she is a horrible parent and will burn in hell.
How long should I wait for her to apologize before I write her out of my will?

---

Dear Abby,
I am a smoking hot, uber-smart, super-cool chick. In essence: the PERFECT woman.
I think my boyfriend might be stepping out on me.
Rather than actually speaking to him about my concerns, I've decided to snoop around online to see what sort of trouble he might be getting into.
My problem is that, while I'm uber-smart as I mentioned before, I still have six weeks left until I defend my dissertation and become a fully qualified nnD (Doctor of Nauseating Narcissism)
Should I wait to perform my investigation until after I've received my nnD, or can I ask my 11yo niece to do the Google search for me???

---

Dear Abby,
Our family is quite poor and in order for our 18 beautiful children (#19 is on the way and I'm THRILLED!) to attend the local charity school, I must pull them 7 miles uphill along a dirt trail in a rusty old cart on my way into town for my daily 16-hour shift at the lumbermill.
My husband, who has been out of work for the past 27 years due to a pathological fear of telephones, recently won $500 million in the local lottery. (He's SO LUCKY! The only thing I ever won was a ritual stoning!)
As a gift to me, he presented me with brand-new padded seats for the pull cart. I'm speechless with gratitude! (Also I lost my voice six years ago after an untreated throat infection when our insurance ran out)
My problem is that my husband has taken my silence to be dissatisfaction with his generous and thoughtful gift. He is threatening to leave me. How do I convince him that he's the best thing that ever happened to me???

---

Dear Abby,
I have a friend, we'll call her "Amy" who likes to dispense advice. Very frequently, her advice completely misses the mark.
When this is pointed out to her, Amy turns around and tells her critics that they are "misunderstanding" her response.She outright refuses to acknowledge when she is in the wrong.
How can we make her see that stubbornly holding to her guns when she is wrong does nothing for her credibility?

---

Dear Abby,
Help!!! I agreed to stand up in my e-friends Angelique & Polarity's wedding AND to help plan it. But I think in my excitement I jumped the gun.
I forgot that I have a sex-change op scheduled a month prior to the wedding.
What should I do? Should I tell them the truth or lie and invent a sick relative in the Old Country??? I worry that my reassignment will throw off their boy-girl ratio and they'll never forgive me.

---

Dear Abby,
I am engaged to marry a wonderful man who cares for me deeply, values my opinion, and is fantastic in the sack.
However, he has one infuriating habit that I fear will be the end of us: He replaces the toilet paper roll so that the loose end dangles UNDER the roll despite the fact that I have nagged him repeatedly that the paper should be hung so that the loose end hands OVER the roll!
He refuses to hang the roll properly.
I am considering breaking things off with him. What do you think?

---

Dear Abby,
I am in love with a complete c*ckscab. "Dick" and I have been together for eight years and he has never once had a kind word for me. He treats me like a genital lice infestion and openly scorns my opinions, concerns, and wishes. He calls me names and has continually lied to me since the beginning of our relationship. Any money I make goes straight into Dick's bank account and I must beg him for bus fare every morning. Since we've been together he has fathered three children by three different women. One of them was his wife! (He has since divorced her but he has never mentioned marrying me)
My problem is that my family and friends refuse to accept Dick in my life. They tell me that unless I kick Dick to the curb, they can have nothing more to do with me.
Abby, I love Dick with all my heart. How can my family be so thoughtless and cruel as to ask me to give him up? How can I tell them that their actions hurt me?

---

Dear Abby,
I am blind as a bat. I can't see four inches in front of my face without my glasses.I refuse to wear my glasses in public. I frequently bump into things and go through the wrong doors. Last week I used the men's restroom at the Brown Derby by mistake and didn't notice until I tripped over the urinal.I can't read a menu on my own and I'm never sure what I'm eating. And don't even get me started with how hard it is to drive! I hit something the other day - I'm fairly sure it was a Yeti - and now there's an unsightly dent in the front fender of my Town Car.Worst of all, I accidently purchased the wrong tint of hair color the other day and now instead of my usual Tiffany Blue, my hair is Periwinkle. It looks so tacky!My real problem is my friend Hazel. Last week, I was at a party at her home and mistakenly made out with her husband Herb in the pantry. Abby, I THOUGHT I was making out with my boyfriend Walter. Now Hazel refuses to talk to me.How can I convince her that this was just a silly misunderstanding that could have been avoided if Herb would stop wearing the same color shirt as Walter?

---

Dear Abby,
I have a serious problem. I have been married to a wonderful man, we'll call him "Harvey" for twelve years. He's rich, handsome, great in the sack and loves to do housework. My problem is that "Harvey" is imaginary. We talked about
this a lot early in our relationship and decided that we would not letter other people's hangups and opinions affect our feelings for one another.
But lately, the strain has been wearing on me. My family and friends refuse to acknowledge "Harvey" when I bring him to events. They scorn me openly and keep trying to schedule counselling sessions for me.
What should I do?

----

Dear Abby,
I can't get anyone to take me seriously.
I come from a very wealthy family and have always been pampered and adored.
My troubles began several years ago when a video of my then-boyfriend and I in a compromising and sweaty situation got leaked onto the internet. From there it just went downhill. My BFF and I were on a reality TV show and we tried our best to live like "normal" people, but it's HARD!!!
I've partied hard for years, but recently I've started to have trouble with the law. I got several DUIs (I routinely drive drunk and don't see what the big deal is!) and the paparazzi managed to get several pictures of my hoo-hah when I
was out partying commando-style.
I really don't understand why people won't take me seriously. Is there anything I can do to improve my rep?
Sincerely Paris H., Los Angeles CA

----

Dear Abby,
None of my friends will come to my home for dinner any more. I don't understand why. I always go out of my way to prepare tasty, healthy meals, though because of my budget these meals often include ingredients that are slightly past their
recommended sell-by dates. I've always been told that these dates are merely suggestions and my guests almost never get *seriously* ill.
The last time I had a dinner party, one of my friends pulled me aside and complained that she had found several cat hairs in the salad. Abby, I have 37 cats. Surely a little cat hair is to be expected.
Another friend complained that there was nowhere to sit because every available surface was covered in stacks of newspapers. All my friends KNOW that I cannot
bear to throw newspapers away (they might be valuable someday!) and they know that my home is fairly small. Now that the bedroom, bathroom, and livingroom are full, I HAVE to start storing my newspapers in the diningroom.
Should I start looking for friends who are not so snobby and rude or try to reform the friends I have?

----

Dear Abby,
My baby-daddy keep asking me for a paternity test. I don't know why he think these kids ain't his. Yeah, I had me some boyfriends over the years and I ain't always so careful about condoms (dam, they expensive!) but what right he got to
be saying these kids ain't his? He got blond hair and blue eyes and he thinks that means something. Our oldest got brown hair and brown eyes and the middle one was born two years into his last stretch at Joliet and the youngest look a
lot like my sister's ex-husband. Ain't mean these ain't his kids.
How can I make him stop buggin me 'bout this?

----

Dear Abby,
I hope you can help me. My left sock is a quitter. The elastic is completely shot. I keep pulling it up but it keeps falling back down. It is very annoying.
My problem is that my right sock is perfectly fine. The elastic is nice and tight, there are no holes. It is a perfect sock.
What should I do? Do I throw away both socks because of the failure of one? Or do I suck it up and try to go the distance?

----

Dear Abby,
I think my girlfriend is still involved with her Ex. She has him listed as #1 on the 5-Favs of her cell phone (I do not make the cut) and will spend hours talking to him in hushed tones each night.
I have been trying to get her to go away with me for a long weekend for months but she is always too busy. The other day I found out she booked the two of them on a week-long, couples-only cruise to the Carribean.
She says that she loves me and wants to be with me but last night I stopped by her place unexpectedly and she was
in bed with her Ex. They were both naked and sweaty. She told me that she had had a nightmare and he came over to comfort her and that all they'd done was cuddle.
Should I believe her?

----

Dear Abby,
My husband and I are financially irresponsible. Recently, we realized that we would be able to manage our finances better if we did not have the burden of utilities, food, and mortgage so we asked my sister if we could mooch off of her.
She said no! I was shocked and distraught by this betrayal and have turned into a raging slut and adulterer as a result.
I don't know if I can or should ever forgive my sister. How can I make her see how much damage she has done to our family?

----

Dear Abby,
I am having a true test of conscience. On my way to work last week, I accidentally stepped on an ant on the sidewalk.
I realized immediately what I had done, but instead of stopping to offer aid to the ant, I rushed away. I am now swamped with guilt. I just keep thinking about that poor ant and his poor family. Who will feed his children? Who will help build the ant hill in the spring? Who will invade my neighbor's peony bush?
I am feeling true remorse but I don't know what to do to make proper reparations. Some days it is all I can do to get out of bed. Please help me.

----

Dear Abby,
I am deathly afraid of paperclips. There is a job opening at my company that pays nearly twice as much as I am currently being paid. Unfortunately, the job title for this position is "Paperclip Gatherer/Sorter" and it would require me
to be in close proximity with paperclips all day, every day.
I feel that my company discriminates against people with Paperclip-phobia and have filed a grievence with my union. I feel that they should allow me to continue working at my current job but pay me the same that they would pay the
Paperclip Gatherer/Sorter.
The union has refused to move forward with my grievence. What should I do?

----

Dear Abby,
I have been with my current boyfriend for nearly a year now and everything is great except that he says he can't stand me.
I ran into him a the grocery store a couple weeks ago, after waiting in the parking lot for an hour, and he dove to hide behind a display of Spaghetti-Os when he saw me. He doesn't answer my calls and even changed his cell phone number.
Things came to a head when he moved out of his apartment without telling me first. It took me a month, two Private I's, and $300 to track him down again - TWO STATES AWAY!!!!!!
Now he's threatening to get a restraining order against me. I invited him to my step-brother's wedding next weekend but haven't gotten an answer yet. Should I just assume he's coming?

----

Dear Abby,
My wife claims that I never finish what I start. This is patently untrue. Sure, I've got a few unfinished projects around the house and I never completed college (2 credits left) but there has always been a good reason...

----

Dear Abby,
My boss is complaining that I don't complete enough work each day. He claims I "goof off" too much. I don't know what he wants from me. What with getting coffee and muffins, catching up on the latest gossip, lunch, and writing fake
letters to advice columnists online, there just isn't enough time in the day to finish all the "projects" he keeps giving me.
How do I tell him to get off my back?

----

Dear Abby,
My coworker is a jerk.
Three times in the past month one of the elevators has been out of order. The last time it happened, I filled out a help-desk request and gave it to Gary, the IT guy, who happens to sit right next to me. I explained to Gary that when only
2 of the 3 elevators are running, they cars become crowded and slow and I asked him to please fix them immediately.
Gary got angry with me, telling me that the elevators were not part of his "job." Abby, when I first started at our company, I was told to take any "equipment issues" to Gary. Surely the elevators count as equipment?!
I have had trouble with Gary in the past, like when the lunchroom ran out of coffee filters and the bathroom sink clogged. Both times he refused to do anything to fix these situations.
I don't know if I can continue to work with such a lazy, irresponsible scofflaw.
Should I try to get Gary fired?

----

Dear Abby,
I got a credit card application in the mail. It offered me an unlimited credit limit and a LOW-LOW-LOW "introductory rate."
I was trilled! Finally I was able to do all the things I'd wanted to do but could not afford on my minium-wage salary. I bought myself a new car, bought all new furniture, took a couple of cruises, and had my boobs done.
My problem is that now this credit card company is expecting me to pay them back?! I did not ask for this card, they just sent it to me. It shouldn't be my fault that I used it and I do not think I should have to pay it back.
The collection agency they hired to put a lein on my house and garnish my wages says differently.
Which of us is right?

----

Dear Abby,
I recently discovered that my arch-nemesis is actually my father. I have been fighting this man for years and last time we met, he even cut off my hand.
He is a truly horrible person, if "person" is the right word. He was severely burned many years ago and has to walk around in a big black suit that operates as a portable iron-lung. My mentor once even said "He's more machine now than man."
He is arguably the second-most powerful man in the entire galaxy and I'm wondering what I'm entitled to. Should I sue him for back support? My mother died long ago and I was raised by an uncle who treated me more like an indentured servant than a nephew. I feel that I'm owed something for all the years my father was too busy terrorizing the universe to spare time to raise his son.
Also he wears a cape. I'd like to tell him that capes are both dangerous and pretentious but he killed the last man who disagreed with him. What should I do?

----

Dear Abby,
Recently I purchased a compass from a normally reputable store. I got it home, took it out of its packaging and discovered that it was broken.
The arrow always points North. No matter which way which way I turn, it still points North. I tried turning it upside down, I even tried whipping it around very fast but the arrow still continues to point North!?!
I tried to return it to the store, but the replacement compass they gave me does the EXACT SAME THING!!! I even tried another (more expensive) model and still the thing insists on pointing North.
Every time I come into the store to complain, the clerk looks at me like I'm stupid. They've offered to refund my money but I don't want my money back. I want a working compass.
What should I do?

----

Dear Abby,
I am always late. Whether it be work, church, or social engagements, I simply cannot arrive at my destination on time.
My boss tells me that I need to manage my time better, but I disagree. You see, it is never my fault that I am late. Sometimes the bus is late or gets stuck in traffic, sometimes I need to stop for coffee and a bagel, sometimes I just can't get my hair to curl just right and I have to wash it all over again.
My friends have stopped inviting me out, which is totally unfair. For a while they "tricked" me by lying about our meeting time, but I quickly caught on.
How can I convince them to be more patient?
Oops, gotta run, Abby, I was supposed to pick up my father for my mother's funeral half an hour ago!

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Gross!

OK. I really like my gym. It's affiliated with a hospital so they have really well-maintained equipment and a lot of it. It's usually not too crowded and I've almost never had to wait for a treadmill. The members are - for the most part - courteous and polite. And there's a nice ratio of beautiful people to therapy patients.

But as with everything, there's always a few people who have to be asshats.

We all know, or should know, the four basic tenets of Gym Etiquette:

Don't be a Machine Hog We've all seen that guy (or girl) who spends twenty minutes on the squat machine, and then rests for 5min between sets without offering to share. I understand that sometimes it's best to just finish, but if there are clearly six other people waiting, maybe you can alternate so someone is pumping iron while you're resting and vice versa.

Wipe up Your Sweat It is gross Gross GROSS to leave a puddle of your salty body juice behind on the stretch mat or smeared all over the elliptical. There are 50million towels in the gym, laundered fresh 30 times a day as well as squirt bottles of alcohol and strategically placed handy-wipes. There is NO EXCUSE for leaving a sweat-smear behind.

Pick up your Trash Yesterday I found an F-ing band-aid in the cup-holder on the treadmill. EWWWW!!!! You've just jogged six miles, you can't walk ten more feet to the trashcan???

Shut up Luckily, cell phones are strictly verboten at my gym. But I've heard horror stories of chatterboxes dictating their life stories into their phones while spinning. Multitasking has to end at some point, people!!!

OK. End Rant.

Enjoy the gorgeous weekend, everyone!!!

Slutbucks

Some people have WAY too much time on their hands.

I just read on the BBC that a group of busybodies (I won't give you their name because I refuse to give them more exposure than they're already getting) have decided to boycott Starbucks because the new logo on the cups is "too racy"

GIVE ME A BREAK!!!! I have plenty of issues with Starbucks (not least of which is that their Cinnamon Dolce Latte must have crack in it because it's totally addictive!!!) but do people really have nothing better to do than get themselves into a lather about a two-inch drawing on a coffee cup???

Friday, May 30, 2008

Body Age

Normally I meet with my trainer on Friday mornings but she’s sick today so we rescheduled for tomorrow. I’ve been working with her for three months now – a quarter year. And I’ve lost a whopping ten pounds.

Slow and steady wins the race, they say. Well, it’s gonna be a loooonnnnggg race.

When I first started with her, she gave me a full evaluation, measuring everything: Weight (of course); Inches; Body Fat Index (eeek!); Blood Pressure; Cardio-vascular capacity; Strength; and Flexibility. In the end, after all this information was fed into the BodyMaster5000 (my own name for the little PC in the eval room) we found that my “body age” was seven years older than my actual chronological age.

I don’t like the idea that my body is seven years older than me.

Luckily, according to the BodyMaster5000, it’s pretty easy to lower this number. I’m curious to see where I’m at now compared to then. I really have been working my ass off (literally!!!) so I’m hoping for some good results.

Wish me luck!

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Bad Idea Bears

My friends and I saw Avenue Q at the Cadillac on Tuesday. I was scheduled to have another filling replaced that afternoon but really, which would you choose: an hour under the dental drill followed by two days of pain or an evening of raunchy music and muppet sex?

Exactly.

So, the show’s in Chicago on a very limited run, only until June 7, I think. And then it’s continuing on its national tour. If you have the chance to see it, I highly recommend it.

My favorite part was the Bad Idea Bears. Picture what would happen if Jack Black were to procreate with a Care Bear.

These two adorable, saccharine-voiced muppets show up with very very bad advice at the most inopportune moments. “A six-pack? Why not a case?” and “How about a drinking game!!!”

From now on, whenever I do something stupid, I’m going to blame it on the Bad Idea Bears.

;p

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

50K

I finally – finally! – hit 50,000 words on my novel this morning. I would consider this quite the accomplishment if I hadn’t been working on the damned thing for six F-ing months. Normally I keep a better pace than this. I can usually knock out 500 words a day, easy. And for the past few years I’ve managed to spit out 50K every November for NaNoWriMo.

www.nanowrimo.org

Let me tell you, writing a 50K novel in a month is FUN. Your whole world revolves around the all-powerful word count. It’s a grueling pace: 2K per day – knowing that you’ll miss a few days to give your poor fingers a rest (I keep the wrist-brace on standby for Novembers)

And what you end up with… Well, let me tell you: it is NOT good. When you’re slamming through a novel at that pace, (all the while consuming enough caffeine to fuel a family of five) there’s no time for finesse. There’s no time for revision. There’s no time for fixing obvious and ridiculous plot holes and characterization flaws. There's no time for bathing.... er.... never mind...

But none of that matters as long as you FINISH. As Chris Baty, the founder of NaNoWriMo says: “It’s not about quality. It’s about quantity.”

But this novel is different. This novel is special. This is number seven. Lucky number seven. Magical number seven. It’s different from the others in so many ways. Mainly: genre. The others were all tripey, dorky romance novels with ever-increasing levels of s-e-x.

The genre on this one is tricky. I’ve jokingly called it “vampire erotica” which is really not true. For one thing, I’m not intending my MC to actually get any – not in this book anyway. Though there’s plenty of innuendo. I prefer to think of it as “urban fantasy” though my dear friend and writing-club buddy insists on calling it “paranormal romance”

We’re not the only ones who disagree. There is a lot of debate in the industry about what defines each genre. Some people lump the two together, but I really feel like there's a third genre, sort of the Green Party of modern fantasy.

There are plenty of authors and series who really straddle the line between urban fantasy and para-romance, and in my opinion they deserve a new classification. Patricia Briggs, Kelley Armstrong, Kim Harrison, Rachel Caine, even Keri Arthur who’s about the diiiiiirtiest of the bunch, don’t write pure para-romance. (And oh, how I LONG to someday be included in the same sentence as these writers!) The stories are more about the journeys and growth of the female leads than their love-lives. Yes, romance is a component, but it isn’t the driving point of the story.

Anyway. None of that is the point. The point is that I’ve finally hit 50K with this thing. Shooting for a total of 80-90K by November, so I’ve still got a way to go, but, Hey! 50K!

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Fwd: Aquarius!

Hahaha!

So… My sister really gets off on sending me chain mail. I've told her repeatedly to knock it off and she doesn't do it as often as she used to, but today I got an email titled "Fwd: Aquarius!" with the following message attached.

What I find the most interesting about this message is that there is apparently a sliding scale of bad luck if you don't forward it on, depending on your sign. Scorpios get off pretty light, with only 4 years of bad luck, but you'd better pass this hot potato on PDQ if you're a Capricorn: 20 years, baby!!!!

I honestly don't put a lot of stock in horoscopes. I figure you can close your eyes and pick a sign at random and at least 60% of the traits will pertain to you. But mine are actually pretty damn close. Anyway, here's the email:

Below are True descriptions of zodiac signs. Read your sign, and then forward it on, with your zodiac sign and label on the subject line. This is the real deal, try ignoring or changing it, and the first thing you'll notice is having a horrible day starting tomorrow morning - and it only gets Worse from there. Remember, if you are on the cusp of another sign you most likely will have features of both signs...which may lead you into total confusion......

AQUARIUS - The Sweetheart (Jan 20 - Feb 18) Optimistic and honest, sweet personality. Very independent. Inventive and intelligent. Friendly and loyal. Can seem unemotional. Can be a bit rebellious. Very stubborn, but original and unique. Attractive on the inside and out. Eccentric personality. 11 years of bad luck if you do not forward.

(Ooh… Rational! You and Jo both had better make sure you forward this. 11 years!!)

PISCES - The Dreamer (Feb 19 - Mar 20) Generous, kind, and thoughtful. Very creative and imaginative. May become secretive and vague. Sensitive. Don't like details. Dreamy and unrealistic. Sympathetic and loving. Kind. Unselfish. Good kisser. Beautiful. 8 year s of bad luck if you do not forward.

(A "good kisser," eh, Nova??? Maybe we should talk…)….

Now, I included both Virgo and Libra because I was born on the cusp (the Cusp of Beauty it's called…) and I like to cherry-pick what I like from each. Trouble is, they pretty much BOTH apply to me….

VIRGO - The Perfectionist (Aug 23 - Sept 22)
Dominant in relationships: sometimes ;)
Conservative: only on the surface
Always want the last word: Hell YEAH!
Argumentative: Duh!
Worrier: Not so much – though I was a total worrywart when I was younger. Now I only worry about what I can control.
Very smart: sort of. Getting dumber by the day
Dislikes noise & chaos: Depends on the situation, but usually, this is true
Eager: Huh?
Hardworking: Sometimes. Depends on if I like the task. I'm better with the prep work – I lack follow-through…
Loyal: Yes.
Beautiful: My mom says so. :)
Easy to talk to: Absolutely
Hard to please: So NOT true… um…
Harsh: Well… I suppose
Practical: Yeah.
Fussy: Absolutely not! Um.. could you please move that lamp two inches to the left, thanks.
Often shy: This one is VERY true
Pessimistic: Expect the worst and you'll never be disappointed…

LIBRA – The Harmonizer (Sept 23 - Oct 22)
Nice to everyone they meet: I'm PREPARED to be nice to everyone I meet. Won't be a doormat, though.
Can't make up their mind: This is true. Or maybe not. No, it's true…I think…
Have own unique appeal: What does this mean???
Creative: You tell me
Energetic: Urm… depends on the activity ;)
Very social. Depends on the society. I like my little group of friends but I don't need to be around people constantly.
Hates to be alone: This one is flat out, 100% WRONG
Peaceful: I can be Zen if I feel like it.
Generous: Again, it depends on the recipient
Very loving: To those who've won my love, absolutely.
Beautiful: That's what my mommy keeps telling me…
Flirtatious: *wink wink, nudge nudge* ;)
Give in too easily: yeah…
Procrastinators: No question about it.
Very gullible: As many lies as I've been fed in my life, I still don't expect to be lied to. Except by Jo…

Anyway, Virgo gets 7 years bad luck and Libra gets 9 years. By sending this tripe to the recycle bin, do I split the difference and get 8 or add them up and get 16??? With my luck, they'll be multiplied and I'll get 63.

Oh well. See you guys in 2071…

(Nova! Don't you dare wait that long before coming back!!!)

Monday, May 26, 2008

Sunny days

So the long weekend is almost over. :(

I managed to get some shopping done (the dreaded swimsuit search is done!), hang out with my friends, drink some awesome homemade sangria, and introduce my legs to the bright light of day for the first time in about nine months.

For a while we were worried that the weather gods weren't going to cooperate, and in fact, right after we lugged all our stuff down to the patio and settled ourselves at the table, it started to rain. We sat glumly under the "sun umbrella" for about fifteen minutes drinking and debating whether we should do an indoor picnic, but then the sun came out. And stayed out the rest of the afternoon with a perfect eastbound wind to keep it comfortable. :)

It was a fun, laid-back afternoon, and I was glad to catch up with several friends I hadn't seen in a while.

Of course, I managed to land myself with a mild sunburn. But only on my right side. Ugh.

I look like a peppermint pinwheel.

Normally, I am extremely anal about the sun. Big, floppy hat, SPF 2500, lots of shade... But I'm going on vacation soon and I thought a light tan wouldn't hurt. That'll learn me.

At least my face was pretty well covered so I didn't freckle - yet.

Sorry this post is a little dull, but frankly, the weekend was a little dull. Perfectly, pleasantly dull.

Sigh. See you on the boards tomorrow.

Friday, May 23, 2008

Time to go Shopping

I'm not one of those women who can spend hours on end shopping. I used to be able to spend a whole day wandering around the mall - when I was a teenager. But now my philosophy on shopping is: Wham, Bam, Thank you, ma'am! I get in, I grab what I need, and I get out. If I don't find what I'm looking for, I don't buy anything (though I'm not immune to an impulse buy here and there)

And I HATE crowds. I don't go near Michigan Ave unless it's completely unavoidable and it drives me crazy to swim upstream through the Wicked crowds on Randolph to get to the State Street Borders...

I buy my grocery staples from Peapod (let the cute Croatian boy do the heavy lifting, hehehe...) When I have to go to the Jewel, I go at 7am on a weekend. No pokey seniors, no fussy yuppies, no wandering children... Ah...

And I don't especially look forward to clothing shopping. But the time has come when I simply MUST shop. I've lost ten pounds now (Yea!!!) and have already relegated all of my favorite work clothes to the Goodwill box. I did a little bit of shopping in the back of my closet, but I really need to buy at least a couple new pieces of clothing.

I don't want to buy a whole new wardrobe because I still have a long way to go, but I can't keep washing and wearing the same two pairs of pants over and over and over...

Ah, well! Here's wishing all of you a fantastic holiday weekend!!

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Doctor Google

So, slightly less freaked out about my dad after talking to him yesterday

(A huge THANKS to all my imaginary friends for all your kind thoughts and wishes!!)

Of course I decide to turn to the premier medical authority of the modern age. That's right: Doctor Google.

Do you know what you get when you Google "bladder tumor"??

You guessed it: Links about CANCER.

Yikes!

Pretty much every article about bladder tumors that I have found center on Bladder Cancer. Though several acknowledge that bladder tumors can be "cancerous or non-cancerous" most of the information is clearly directed towards Cancer sufferes.

After a bit of research it seems that Stage 0 Bladder Cancer (the earliest and most easily treated stage) is found only in the "inner lining" of the bladder. My father's tumors are limited to the OUTER lining of the bladder, and they were definitely NOT malignant so he is pretty much in the clear.

Still.

But this got me thinking about my good friend Doctor Google.

I am a hypochondriac-by-proxy. Not your garden variety hypochondriac. I don't self-diagnose. That would be much too pedestrian. No, I love to diagnose the people around me. I adore cataloging their symptoms and researching possible causes and treatments.

"You have an itchy rash? Must be lupus!!!" (I watch WAY too much "House" and they diagnose lupus at least once per episode...)

A couple years ago, my friend Rachel's 3yo daughter fell off the jungle gym in their backyard while I was visiting and hit her head. She jumped right back up, smiling and laughing. I was convinced she had CIPA (Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis)

Of course she didn't, but that didn't stop me from doing extensive research on the topic for the following week. That was pretty fun.

Why am I so weird?

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

In a Handbasket

I'm going to hell. Straight to hell.

When I got to work this morning, one of my coworkers was out sick.

Coworker#1: Coworker#2 is sick.
Me: Again?
Coworker#3: Yeah, I guess his cold is really bad.
CW#1: Colds really hit him hard.
CW#3: I come to work even when I have a cold.
CW#1: Me too.
Me: (laughing) Some people just aren't as hardcore as you guys. I know when my dad is sick, he turns into a great big baby.

*Phone rings*

Me: This is EEE.
Mom: Hi, EEE. It's Mom.
Me: Mom! Hi! What's up?
Mom: Now, I don't want you to worry*

*WHY do parents do this???? She might as well have shouted: WORRY! WORRY NOW!!! WORRY A LOT!!!

Me: What! What is it? What's wrong???
Mom: Nothing, nothing. I don't know if you knew, but your father went in for surgery this morning.
Me: WHAT!
Mom: Now, don't worry, it was just a follow-up to those tumors he had removed last month.
Me: Tumors?! Surgery?! Last month?? WHAT!
Mom: Oh. Didn't I mention?
Me: No! No, you did not.
Mom: Oh. Well, your father had surgery last month to remove some small tumors from his bladder. They were benign, but the doctor wanted to get rid of them.
Me: (taking long, steadying breaths) OK. So they're gone??
Mom: Well...
Me: They're NOT gone???
Mom: It looks like they've come back.

She went on to explain that these tumors are common in former smokers, especially men, even if they quit years ago. (Nova!!!) And even though they're benign, the doctors are going to do a 6-week round of Chemo.

CHEMO.

Is there as scarier word in all the world???

To be fair, the doctors have been very very clear that this is preventative, that my father does NOT have - eek! - Cancer. And apparently it's going to be Chemo-lite. He can drive himself there and drive himself home. It's administered locally (I don't even WANT TO KNOW!!!) and following the procedure he has to bleach out the toilet the first time he uses it.

Still...

Chemo.

Scary.

And there I was, calling my dad a "great big baby" probably at the exact minute they were wheeling him out of surgery.

Yep. Straight to hell.

I love you, Daddy! Be better soon!!!

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Be Careful What You Ask For...

Wow.

Well, I can't say I didn't ask for it.

I asked for feedback on this blog and boy howdy did I get it.

I'll never cease to be surprised by people's capacity for cruelty. I KNOW that people can be mean and petty, so WHY does it always surprise me? Note to "anonymous": if your intention was to be hurtful, you can give yourself a big high-five because you succeeded.

Be more constructive with your feedback.
Because I rap about reality.
Like me and my grandma having a cup of tea?
Ain't no party like my nana's tea party!
Hey-ho!
-Flight of the Conchords

I never claimed to be cool, and my own stupidity & naivete are pretty much a given - though I I know I can write. I guess my topics have been pretty lame, though.

Ugh! I've had enough of my pity party. It's been pointed out to me that this blog is lame. Without evidence to the contrary, I can't argue. I'm not cool enough to pretend that I'm not hurt, but I'll NEVER f*cking doubt my writing ability. Not ever.

Oh well. Got a book to write. Signing off.

*blowing kisses to all my imaginary friends*

Monday, May 19, 2008

Ow. Ow. Ow!

I had a filling put in today. I haven't needed any dental work in about 15 years and I don't remember it hurting this much. It was a deep filling and the dentist hasn't ruled out a root-canal. (Yikes!) Though he was quick to reassure me that "at least it's a single-root tooth"

Yeah, I feel better.

Honestly, it doesn't hurt that badly. I just feeling like betching and moaning.

My imaginary friends were joking that I must have something on the side with my dentist. This is very amusing. My dentist is about 65yo and a talker. The first time I met him, he showed me polaroids of his cat.

And speaking of my imaginary friends...

Are any of you reading this? Or am I talking to myself?

More importantly, if no one is reading this, is it worth my while to continue??? Hell, if people ARE reading this, is it worth my while to continue? Is it serving ANY purpose?