Another infernal event

Some chooch on NBC evening news just called our snow storm a 'Weather Event.'

Sigggghhhhhhhh.
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I am listening to: The chooch
I am reading: Henry the Eighth by Margaret George (Trying again)
And I am: Cozy on the couch

On the other hand, thanks

Of course Da's clean bill of health tops the list this year.

It's odd, but the cancer was a blessing of sorts - it got him to stop smoking and start working out.

Getting the shit scared outta you will do that I suppose. Plus it made all of us hold on a little tighter to what's really important and that's a blessing, too.

Other things for which I am grateful, in no particular order:

My guys - Jim and Grommie, for making me laugh every day and for keeping me warm every night
My good friends - who know everything about me and love me anyway
My former friends - for teaching me to have a much greater appreciation for my current friends
My country - a place where the best candidate actually gets elected; not because he's a black man with a funny name, but in spite of it
My Mom - for still loving me in spite of my bleeding heart liberal whore tendencies
My new job, which is an unbelievable, crazy-ass blessing
Especially my boss - who's like my Zen master, my spiritual Sherpa and long lost twin brother
My iPhone - for making my life easier
That crazy black dude on TrueBlood
The #11 bus
Jerry Dog
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I am listening to: Commercials
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Grateful

NoThanksgiving

I guess it’s that time of year again. Time to be all grateful and shit.

But I don’t feel like it today.

So here’s the deal: Since we’ll all be engorged with gratitude tomorrow, let's designate this -- the Wednesday before Turkey Day -- an official holiday.

We'll call it NoThanksgiving.

I like it.

Whaddaya say? Feel like bitchin’? Today’s the day. Have at it.

Here are the things I’m ungrateful for at the onset of this oh-so-fucking festive time of year:

Two (count ‘em!) in-grown toenails. Gross.
This itchy brown sweater
Christmas music that started the day after Halloween
People driving too slow in the passing lane
Microsoft Windows XP and SharePoint
People who can’t get beyond their own fucked up childhood bullshit to do the right thing
Ear buds that are too big for my tiny ears
My tiny ears
My big ass
Poodles
People who are quick to believe the worst in others
Heartburn
Corporate jets for auto execs (shouldn’t they drive, like, everywhere?)
Gromit’s ass-breath the past week
The books on my desk that keep flopping over onto my wooden traveling Buddha
The non user-friendly clock in my car, still on standard time because I can’t fucking figure out how to switch it over
AT&T dropped calls and their inept/ridiculous customer service people
People who talk more than they listen
Laundry
Dry, cracked fingers
Hillary Clinton as Secretary of State
That one song on my iPod that I’ve deleted three times yet it won’t go away
People who text while driving or walking
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I am listening to: An Evening with El Diablo - Chevelle
I am reading: eCommerce sell sheet
And I am: Ungrateful

A CRAPTACULAR BLOG EVENT!

It happened three times in less than 10 minutes of prime time TV last night.

AN INCREDIBLE MOVIE EVENT!

A SPECIAL TWO-HOUR TV EVENT!

A SPECTACULAR SALES EVENT!

Have you noticed this?

Here’s the formula used by marketing morons to make everyday shit sound extra super special:

Poly-Syllabic Adjective + Benign Noun or Vowel + ‘Event’
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One of my biggest grammar-related peeves is when people use extra words or syllables.

It’s not a movie event. It’s a movie.

It’s not a TV event. It’s a show.

And it’s not a SPECTACULAR PRE-OWNED SAVINGS EVENT.

It’s a USED CAR SALE, ya fatuous fuck-knob.
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I know. Fatuous is a whole lotta syllables just to say silly but I liked the semi-alliterative sound, so shaddap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What’s worse, once you notice this irritating trend you can’t keep from applying the formula to your own mundane tasks.

Seriously. This morning, I was all:

GOOD MORNING, FOLKS! Are you READY? Because it’s TIME for an ELECTRIFYING BOWEL-EVACUATING EVENT!

Soon to be followed by a MINTYLICIOUS DENTAL CLEANSING EVENT!

Up next: A SOAP-O-RIFFIC BUTT-SCRUBBING EVENT!

And where do these silly marketers get all of their energy?

I was totally exhausted and needed a good cry by the time I got to this morning’s INSPIRING SOCK-APPLYING EVENT.
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I am listening to: All That I Want – The Weepies
I am reading: The Playboy Philosophy
And I am: In the midst of a REMARKABLE RAIL-RELATED COMMUTER EVENT

I love me some bus

I am the Queen of Public Transportation.

Hedy, I thought you were the Queen of Potato Chips. What happened?

Right. I’m trying to cut back.

I figure if Da can quit smoking cold turkey after the Big Cancer Scare of 2008, then I can lay off the Lays.

So yeah. Queen of Public Transportation.

A rather dubious distinction. But I am reveling in it.

Let me explain.

This new job involves getting from the far west suburbs to the River North neighborhood of Chicago by 8:30 every morning.

If you’re not familiar with Chicagoland, think of my daily commute as a less humorous version of Trains, Planes and Automobiles minus the planes and the jolly dead fat dude but with considerably more cussing.

It’s really not that bad. But it is long.

And the only reason I do it is because my new job is off-the-charts fabulous. Seriously.

You know that one warm oozy chocolate chip left on the cookie sheet that you swipe up realquick and lick off your finger?

That’s me. Sitting at my desk every day. A glob of yummy smiling goodness. It’s true.

Anyhoo.

Here’s my morning: Car to train station. Walk walk walk. Train. Walk walk walk. Public transportation. Walk walk walk. Office.

If I leave the house at 6:45, I’m in the office by 8:30. Yep. It’s nearly two hours. But again, the job totally rocks my cookie sheet so it’s worth it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lately I’ve been learning ways to cut down on the commute time.

Back roads to avoid lights. Shortcuts in and out of the station to avoid heavy people traffic.

And the bus. The glorious #11 Chicago Transit Authority bus.

I sure do love me some bus.

It’s way better than the El – which is our version of the subway, only some parts are on elevated track, thus the name. The El is cold. Inefficient. On good days it smells like stale farts. And strangers stare coldly at you like This is My Train MotherFucker and you don’t belong.

The bus is warm, comfy, and efficient. It smells like…bus. And my fellow commuters either smile at me or ignore me; either way it’s perfect.

Plus, I use the CTA Bus Tracker web site from my iPhone so I always know when my next rolling vessel of cozy comfort will arrive. It’s wonderful.
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I don’t know why, but there’s something homey about being on a bus. I originally thought it might have something to do with elementary school – the only other time in my life I’ve required the use of public transportation – but I don’t think that’s it.

Here’s why.

My two most vivid bus-related memories from childhood involve: 1. Me calling Jeff Conklin a wiener and getting in Seriously Big His-Mom-Calls-My-Mom Trouble for it, and 2. Jumping off the back end of the bus during a safety drill without allowing Brian Cuker (gross!) to hold my hand and help me down and getting in Seriously Big Get-Back-On-the-Bus-and-Do It-Again Trouble for it.

See? Not so much on the early childhood bus memories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the coolest thing about public transportation: You can GO EVERYWHERE. CHEAP.

I bop down to the Loop for lunch and back to my office for just $2. A cab ride for the same trip is around $12.

Better still, Google maps features directions using public transportation with departure/arrival times and everything. So now whenever I have to go somewhere downtown, I always check to see if public transportation is an option before grabbing a cab.

I know. Public transportation. Someone once said I'm easily amused. It's totally true.

So to recap: Warm oozy goodness at work in spite of the commute. And lovin' the magical mystery bus.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: Shake Your Groove Thing - Peaches & Herb
I am reading: Neil Steinberg on Dr. Seuss today
And I am: All warm and melty lately

Sick of it

Remember back in the 90's when every movie seemed to have a strip club scene?

Maybe it was considered edgy for its time. I dunno.

I sure miss those days.

Have you noticed? It appears farts and puke have replaced tits and ass in the entertainment world.

Seriously.

You can't change the channel without some idiot barfing on the floor or barking in his boxers.

Captain Kirk on Boston Legal farts in practically every episode now. Californication should be renamed 'The Fucking and Barfing Show.'

And, in quite possibly the lowest cinematic moment in history, Charlotte (the prissy, uptight broad) literally shits her pants in Sex & the City, the movie.

It's like Hollywood writers have given up.

"...and then Alan Shore does that patented horny Sex, Lies & Videotape schtick he's been doing since the 80's and then hmmm....what would Denny Crane say at this point?"

"Eh, fuck it. PFFFFFFFFFFTT!"
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Of course there are a few notable puke and shit scenes that are genuinely humorous.

Monty Python's Mr. Creosote comes to mind. The famous pie-eating contest in Stand By Me is a classic. And the broken toilet scene in Dumb & Dumber is damn near perfect.
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You know me. I'm not easily offended. It's hard to be uptight when your blog is the #2 Google hit for 'big boners'.

But I am sick and tired of gross bodily functions on TV.

Attention Hollywood: Please bring back tits and ass. Before I puke.
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I am listening to: Stepped on My J'z - Nelly
I am reading: Copy for a campaign
And I am: Sick of it

A pissy stream of consciousness

well i’m sure glad i figured out that heater thing it’s all about patience you knew it couldn’t be the car and it’s smart that it doesn’t start blowing until the air is warm smart smart smart your car is smarter than you hedy and you were so frustrated for so long jabbing at the dashboard ready to take the damn thing in to have it checked out well jim would do that but still i sure wish it would start blowing right now why am i doing this it’s cold cold cold 4:30 in the morning in 41 years you’ve never regretted a thing silly starting now with getting up to work out especially since nothing fits anymore and that heater thing is a lesson ya know a lesson about patience you really need to have more patience C’MON C’MON C’MON WHAT THE FUCK IT’S A STOP SIGN IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE YOU MORON NO ONE IS UP YET WHY ARE YOU STOPPING JUST GO JESUS GO GO GO okay what was i thinking about oh yeah patience you need more patience hedy more patience more patience MORE PATIENCE.
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I am listening to: Anyone Else But You - Moldy Peaches
I am reading: Neil Steinberg in the Sun-Times
And I am: Obviously mental

Another Susan-worthy snippet

Walking west on Superior just now behind a well-dressed man and woman:

"Half my family's Muslim, half my family's Pentecost. Someone says there's something wrong with being Muslim, I say 'Have you ever been to the mosque with me? Then how do you know?'"

"Whatever anyone wants to believe, that's fine with me."

Amen.
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I am listening to: If It Makes You Happy - Sheryl Crow
I am reading: Another f*cking PowerPoint presentation
And I am: Kinda sleepy

The anti-Christ conundrum

“I have to ask,” I say to Mom this morning. “Some fundamental Christians believe that Obama is the anti-Christ. Wouldn’t that be a good thing? Wouldn’t that mean the end-times are here and Christ is finally coming back?”

“I guess from a Christian perspective, we’d just rather he was president of some other country.”

She was joking of course. But she didn’t miss a beat and it was brilliant.

I’m still giggling about it here, a half hour later, on the train.
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It’s a legitimate question.

If cuddly-wuddly Christ’s nemesis is here, then Christians the world over should be rejoicing.

It means that all of the true believers will be taken up to heaven with their Savior while the rest of us pagans Jews Muslims Buddhists atheists Democrats heathens suffer and die at the hands of the Dark and Prickly-Dickly Lord.

It’s gonna be quite a party.

BLASPHEMY!

I know, I know.

I don’t mean to make light of the end of the world as we know it. I’ll leave that to R.E.M.

Here’s the thing: If I’m the anti-Christ, I’m sure as hell not gonna make it hard on myself by trying to take over the world dressed as a half-black geeky dude with a funny sounding name.

If I’m the anti-Christ, I’m gonna try to blend in and be as normal as possible.

Like Joe Six-Pack.
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I am listening to: Gives You Hell – The All-American Rejects
I am reading: Nothing, although The Glass Castle was very good
And I am: Cuddly-wuddly waiting

McCain for Secretary of State

Screw Hillary. How about John McCain for Secretary of State?

If President-elect Obama truly wants to create a Team of Rivals à la Lincoln, McCain is the best choice.

Think about it. McCain's tough. He's got solid foreign policy experience. And he's well respected in this country and around the globe.

Plus, in one appointment, Obama could offer an olive branch to McCain and the 58 million people who voted for him. Just think of the new feeling of non-partisan cooperation and respect this would create between the two parties after this ugly-as-usual campaign.

It also puts McCain back in a key leadership role within the Republican party and neutralizes any high hopes of Palin and her ilk stealing the spotlight over the next four years.

Sure, McCain has supported much of the Bush foreign policy over the past eight years, but how much of that was him simply jockeying for position to be the Republican candidate for president? Now that the campaign's over, McCain can go back to being the well-respected moderate that he was and in the process make a real difference for the country he loves so much.

I like it. McCain for Secretary of State.
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I am listening to: The washing machine
I am reading: Nothing, sadly
And I am: Hoping

Overheard

"Twat? I cunt hear you. Bare ass me again."

"Tits alright, I fingered it out."
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I am listening to: The Stooges
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Yep, hammered again.

The Schoolhouse

"Why don't you sit over here by me?"

"I didn't know you were over there."
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I am listening to: The Bartender Song - Rehab
I am reading: Nothing, really
And I am: Hammered again

Update

The doctor's office called Da - didn't make him come in - for the news that the cancer did not penetrate the wall of his bladder and it's a very non-aggressive type of cancer, so easily treatable. He might have a series of chemo 'baths' for his bladder, but that would be the most of it. We'll know more on Monday.

Thanks again for all the kind words, thoughts and prayers; we sure appreciated it.
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I am listening to: Some damn UFO show on the History Channel
I am reading: How to Fix a Flat by Thomas L. Friedman
And I am: Relieved

Dear Google

Dear Google,

No question about it - you guys (and gals, I'm assuming) are brilliant. And I love, love, love the special things you do with your logo commemorating holidays, milestones and whathaveyou.

But here's a very special request I'm hoping only you can help with: The Blog Breathalyzer.

The Blog Breathalyzer, Hedy?

Yes.

I woke up this morning knowing I'd posted two entries last night but HAD NO FUCKING CLUE what they were about. And yes, I just ended a sentence with a preposition. Deal with it. I'm hung over.

Anyhoo, Google guys/gals: Please invent this. A few puffs into the Blog Breathalyzer, and your computer automatically shuts down if you're intoxicated and ready to post inane, incoherent, weepy, and/or angry rants.

Bloggers the world over will thank you for it. Plus a handful of HedyBlog readers for sure.
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I am listening to: Amy Winehouse - Rehab
I am reading: Fark
And I am: hopeful

CTO

Also, I am personally THRILLED that the Obama administration will have a Chief Technology Officer.
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I am listening to: Superbad still
I am reading: Again, nothing
And I am: THRILLED

666

Apparently the Illinois pick three for Tuesday, November 4 was: 666.

And apparently, there's this.

So yeah.

Obama is the anti-Christ.

Don't you just love this totally random universe of ours?
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I am listening to: SuperBad
I am reading: Not a goddamn thing
And I am: Unintentionally Satanic

New spirit

“So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other. ”

- Barack Obama
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"I didn't vote for Obama, but I will pray for him."

I must've heard that 10 times during my morning commute.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You can't find a newspaper in the Loop this morning.

I grabbed the last Sun-Times off the rack at the Walgreens on the corner of Wacker and Jackson.

In the words of my favorite Scottish-American:

"It's a GREAT day for America!"

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I am listening to: The office buzzing about Obama
I am reading: The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
And I am: Feeling like America grew up last night

Last place

Where's the last place on the planet you'd like to be?

I'll go first.

With your Mom in the surgery waiting room at the hospital where you were born hearing the words 'malignant' and 'mass' and 'pathology report' and 'chemotherapy' while your Da is still in recovery.

That was Friday.

The surgeon was fairly certain he got it all and was surprisingly upbeat about the whole thing. Now we're waiting on the pathology results to figure out next steps.

Of course we know Da's answer to the 'last place' question.

He's an old-school tough guy who's done nothing but love his wife and kids and work his ass off his whole life. The last thing he wants is any of us fussing over him. But fuss we will for sure.

I'll be taking a break from this for a while. Nothing seems all that funny or interesting these days.

It's Monday night. And being here in Illinois -- acting like everything is normal -- is now officially the last place I'd like to be.
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I am listening to: Gives You Hell - All-American Rejects
I am reading: The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
And I am: Here, really wishing I was there