Caterwauling

I was happily reading and responding to e-mail this morning (where I found out my good friend Lori is having a baby girl in April! Yay Lori!), when I heard an explosion in the kitchen. Turns out that my dumb ass had started hard-boiling eggs, oh, like an hour before the explosion and I forgot all about them. The kids jumped 10 feet, as did I. When I went to the kitchen, there were five scorched eggs, two of which had spontaneously combusted. What a MESS!!!

I wanted to blog so many times this past week, but alas, no technology has pre-empted that. My computer at home is about to die, and I was hoping to buy a laptop with my tax return, but the feds are seizing it to pay for student loans (as well as now making the move to garnishing my pathetic wages — I couldn’t afford the payments in the first place, and now I’ll have to take a second job to get the f’in loans out of default. Wonderful).

In any event, I saw a lot of news while I was in Pittsburgh, and I wanted to share some latent rants about it.

Howard Stern

I was dismayed during my early-morning drive yesterday to find that Clear Channel gave Stern the boot from its stations. What. The. FUCK?!?! I was listening to Pittsburgh’s WXDX-FM, where I heard Stern for years, but all they played was music in the morning drive-time slot. I heard that, in the face of Tittygate and something having to do with “moral standards,” Stern apparently crossed some line of decency and his show was pulled.

I know the country was founded by uptight Puritans who wanted to practice their cult-like prissiness in complete freedom, but a few hundred years have passed since then. Not that you’d know it in this country.

Rosie O’Donnell

Last week, Rosie married her girlfriend Kelli. Congratulations to the happy couple and to everyone else who managed to beat the clock and celebrate long-overdue nuptials before the so-called “morality police” step in and try to make these unions null.

I was disappointed when my grandfather saw the news headlines and said that was an abomination. Look, his brothers are all illiterate and prejudiced, but to hear that coming from him started a big ol’ fight between the two of us because I expect better from him. I pointed out to him that maybe that might be my future — I haven’t exactly had the best of luck in the hetero dating world, and I would like to get married someday, but it might not be to that tall, dark, handsome and rich fellow that he wants me to find. He did admit that his parents taught him that same-sex unions were unacceptable, and I told him that what they were teaching in the 1930s is not what’s happening today. I also reminded him that whatever his family taught him, well, my family has taught me. And that doesn’t mean I have to accept or believe any of it. Mom eventually told me to shut up or the poor guy would have a heart attack, which he looked like he was going to do when the words, “I might just be a lesbian myself” came out of my mouth. 🙂 Of course, I told Mom that people who hold my grandfather’s beliefs are exactly the reason why I keep writing to my congressmen!

Planned Parenthood records being seized

Pittsburgh is one of six cities in which Planned Parenthood records are being seized for the feds to count how many late-term abortions were performed. I’m mostly pissed because the feds have access to my own personal medical information. Granted, I did it early, but still, that was the hardest thing I ever did and it never stops haunting me on a variety of levels. You know, this past Valentine’s Day, I would have had a two-year-old if I’d gone to term. In any event, it is said that the 18,000 patients’ records have been stripped of names and identifying information, but I’m still incensed. It’s bad enough when you have to fight your way through insane protesters to get through the front doors, and this only seems like they are getting their wish in making us feel worse than we already did. It’s like you can never truly move on.

I will admit that I did it for selfish reasons (young and poor — emphasis on poor), and I would never in a million years do it again at my age now. But if it would be medically necessary, I want that option to still be there for those who need it. I look at Shan who was deathly sick the whole time she was pregnant — she stuck it out but she was confined to bedrest at seven months (and delivered early because of it). She lost her quality of life in order to give life. Most people aren’t half as strong as her, and having a child should be a joyous event, not a life-threatening one.

More women’s health issues

Another one that hit home: Pap smears weren’t properly read at Magee Women’s Hospital, and people who were told their smears were fine are now being diagnosed with various stages of ovarian cancer. Not only was I born at that particular hospital, but well, I was referred there for some girly work in 2001, the same time these women were told they were healthy but were actually in pre-cancerous stages. Jesus H. Apparently doctor’s names were forged on lab results that were never even evaluated. I know they have thousands of patients, but damn, people are dying because of ineptitude. At my job, everyone is lax and does what little they do half-assed at best, but we aren’t in life-or-death situations. I haven’t had a smear since then (and mine was fine), although I’ve had enough pelvic exams since then to choke a horse. Just another worry to add to the pile, I suppose.

Airlines considering weighing passengers

OK, if you already are self-conscious about your size and thought the years of childhood teasing was behind you, think again. Airlines want to weigh us in addition to practically strip-searching us a dozen times before hopping on a flight. I figure, if I fit in the seat, I should be fine to fly. What are they going to do, ban overweight people from getting to their destination by plane? How much is too much? Are they going to make fat people buy an extra seat? I think the real problem lies in how much luggage people bring on board. When I was leaving Orange County at this time last year, I was joking with one of my colleages that she’d brought a bodybag instead of luggage — seriously, it looked like she kidnapped Mickey and Minnie Mouse in her one bag. I bring a suitcase, a bag for hanging garments, a purse and a jacket when I travel. I mix and match my suits so I can bring fewer items. I live with the same two pairs of shoes for a week at a time. It’s not difficult, but some people bring 10 pairs of shoes and a bunch of “just in case” outfits that they will never wear. Let’s try expediting the boarding process instead of lengthening it, mmm kay?

I need to quit watching the news. This shit’s going to kill me. 🙂

It only took me three hours to get to the Beltway from Pittsburgh. Then it took another hour to get home. Fucking traffic.

Off to work. Joy. Hope no calamities have arisen in my absence.

How was everyone’s week?

After another miserable day at work (problems galore with the f’ing newspaper), I’m done till Friday. I’m now running around like a fool, shopping and doing laundry to prepare for a trip up North to surprise the family for my grandfather’s birthday dinner tomorrow. Luckily, I did a lot of cleaning yesterday, so barring the usual catload of shit in Pooh Corner, the house should be in good shape for me to return to. I just wish I were in some amount of good shape!

I was very bad this weekend and took an old happy pill that I’d hidden in the abode. I got four really good hours out of it before sleeping it off (instead of a day of happiness and a day and a half of letdown). The bad part, though, was that I absolutely demolished a box of cappuccino meltaways. The whole friggin’ box. In one sitting. Note to self: pick up more whilst in Pittsburgh!

I treated myself today to Joss Stone’s new CD. If you like Joni Mitchell (and I know one person out there who does), pick this album up. Now. This will be fabulous driving music to keep me mellow while all the idiots surround me on the highways. Speaking of which, some dumb bitch cut me off to pick up the Beltway exit. I mean, I had to slam on my brakes and so did the asshole tailgating me — she had no turn signal, no room to merge and, clearly, no brains. I almost swallowed my cigarette!

“Sex and the City” is such a metaphor for my life, and now that the last episode has come and gone (beautifully, I might add), I just don’t know when I’ll ever see “Sex” again … in any incarnation.

I called it before the show started: we’ve waited six years to find out Mr. Big’s name, and we did find out. His name is John. It’s not what I was expecting, but then again, I don’t know what else it could have been.

The episode was a brilliant tribute to Sunday nights spent on the couch, finding ourselves in all of the characters. Shawn came over for the last hurrah — we’ve seen every episode of the season together at my place. It was perfect … our characters are where they belong, their lives are exactly on the track that they want them to be on, and we are left to dream about their possibilities.

Oh, yeah, I cried a lot at the end. But that’s to be expected. And forgiven. 🙂

Au revior, Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha. It’s been a glorious six years. Now just hurry up and get the Season Six DVDs out!!! 🙂

Do NOT, under any circumstances, give yourself a French pedicure when you have cats. Especially a black cat. Because, even if you had just vacuumed an hour earlier, she will still manage to rub up against your feet while your polish is drying. And you will have little black clumps of fur sticking in the white polish.

< / public service announcement >

One thing I should never, ever do in my life is lie. And I normally don’t, but I told someone at work a whopper while I was holding evidence to the contrary in my hand. *lol*

I spent Friday afternoon by going to the AMC and watching “The Butterfly Effect” (which was actually very good and Ashton Kutcher didn’t annoy me too much — he was kind of hot, if I dare say so myself). Then I went to the print shop for a few hours and, finally, because it was around 6 p.m., I went into work to approve some invoices and check my messages.

Of course I run into the one person with whom I am continually annoyed because instead of doing the work I give him, he likes to lounge and chat and say how time-consuming my project is. He’s NEVER there that late. Leave it to me to pull my keys to my office out of my pocket, only for my ticket stub to hit the floor. He said, “At the movies?” And I said, “No. I wore these jeans before and didn’t wash them.” Lie. He said, “Umm hmm.” It was only when I sat down at my desk that I realized that the big cup of Diet Coke that I’d brought in from the movie theater did not have the Coke logo on it, but rather the big AMC logo emblazoned across it. Duh! Bad, bad liar. Oh well. I got a really good laugh out of it!

I’m sad to see “Sex and the City” coming to an end (*sniff*) so I was glad to take some SATC-inspired quizzes — first one is which character I am most like and the second is who I am most like sexually. …

You Are Most Like Carrie! You’re quirky, flirty, and every guy’s perfect first date. But can the guy in question live up to your romantic ideal? It’s tough for you to find the right match – you’re more than a little picky. Never fear… You’ve got a great group of friends and a great closet of clothes, no matter what! Romantic prediction: You’ll fall for someone this year… Totally different from any guy you’ve dated. Which Sex and the City Vixen Are You Most Like? Take This Quiz Right Now! Find the Love of Your Life (and More Love Quizzes) at Your New Romance.

Which Sex and the City Vixen Best Matches Your Sex Style?

It’s Friday. It’s five questions. It’s the highlight of my morning, unfortunately.

When was the last time you…

1. …went to the doctor?

Mid-September of last year for an appendectomy that also included a bunch of pelvic exams, and I was told that I had a very healthy vagina. Of course, you could blow the dust off of it now, but I digress. 😉

2. …went to the dentist?

One year ago exactly. Fucker promised to give me a cleaning but ended up re-doing a root canal (I still don’t have a crown on it) and ripping out two wisdom teeth. And he wonders why I still haven’t paid his bill from that time — I didn’t want all that work done, I couldn’t afford it, and I was in excruciating pain while I hopped on a plane to take a business trip to California. I hate dentists.

3. …filled your gas tank?

Valentine’s Day. It was the only receptacle that had the opportunity to get filled by a nice long nozzle. 😉

4. …got enough sleep?

Last night, after being deprived of it for a coupla days.

5. …backed up your computer?

Wednesday night around 4 a.m., I dumped a bunch of shit on my web server — my computer screen is going dark and is ringing the death bell, so I figured I’d put put all my shit in a safe place just in case.

Jeezus.

Left work after 3 a.m. last night. I have HAD it with our fucked-up computer. HAD IT!!! It’s pretty bad when I have to have my designer come in and bring his fucking computer in so I can make PDFs to FTP to the print shop.

I had to be at work this morning for a meeting, and afterward, I pulled in the CEO and my boss and went apeshit. I said I’m fucking tired of talking and nothing is being done to make my life easier. Not to mention, but I had to re-do the front page to include breaking news (Queen of the Underworld was elected president for next year. Fucking kill me — she’s got an ego the size of Russia, and she has a bug up her ass where I am concerned). This information is embargoed until tomorrow, but fuck it. Hell will start freezing over shortly — grab yer sweaters!

Anyway, I enjoyed blowing a head gasket. It’s like having a goddamn orgasm — I feel like I can conquer the world now (because I’ve had a veritable shitload of caffeine to keep me awake to this point, too, I suppose). I got them to commit to fixing this situation post haste. And don’t think I wasn’t on the phone immediately, taking care of the next steps to get them to spend the lousy five grand to upgrade our systems. I told the CEO that I am going to hold him to every word he said, and either he’s terrified or amused by me at this point. I’m not sure. I told them that I’d be in an insane asylum if it weren’t for my designer continually giving up his free time to save our asses month after month. And I said that if any of us (including Angie, who is a real trouper and stuck it out till the bitter end with us) had kids, this shit and the crazy hours we are required to work, they’d never get their fucking newspaper. I’m tired of killing myself and only getting rewarded with furlough days.

I had theorized (with my friends, not my superiors) that they always shoot down my ideas because I can never get the paper stabilized, and my boss actually said that out loud today. She said that once I iron out the problems with the paper, maybe I can do some of the side projects I keep proposing. I said that pissed me off to no end, because I propose till I’m blue in the face ways to save time and money so that I can do my job more efficiently, but when they can’t accommodate my basic requests, they’re wasting oodles of talent and experience that might be able to help them reverse the trend of losing 1,000 members each month, and that all my ideas ultimately justify my job by showing that the newspaper isn’t just the only benefit they get by buying a membership.

Oooh, the tangents I can start.

In any event, if you’re reading this, Scot, you’ve saved our lives. Again. And we don’t pay you enough. Don’t quit on us till they quit on us completely, mmm kay?

After I got done with work today, I went over to Boothe Park (my favorite) and swung on the swingsets till I was dizzy and delirious. It had the cleansing effect that it always does when I go there, and I am happy again. It’s 50 degrees outside, I have my windows open, the kitties are lying at the entrance to the balcony, enjoying the breeze, and I am going to take some nice drugs and knock myself the fuck out when my energy level wanes again.