OMIGOD ... I'm ThirtyWHAT?

In The End, It Doesn't Even Matter ...

2012-01-25T15:17:00.006-04:00

I don't think many people read my blog anymore ... after all, I haven't posted anything since September of last year. And let's face it ... if you haven't found anything else to read on the Internet in the last four months, you aren't really trying.

My life has gone through a terrible upheaval in the last 30 days. After a serious medical crisis, everything that I put my faith in for fifteen years has been called into question. For the last month, I've stood by quietly while horrible things have been said about me ... because those who know me know that those things aren't true. Those who don't ... I truly feel bad for ... because I was once in the group that believed things blindly. Waking up is a harsh experience ... one I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

So, for the short term ... if you know me ... and you haven't heard from me ... I'm sorry. I've been overwhelmed and the drama continues daily. It's hard to get everything done, but I'm always available if you need to talk. If you know me but you've heard these stories ... know that I'm the same person you've always known. Nothing has changed in my little corner of the world. The world continues to crash around me and, although I now walk the path alone, I am still on the same path. If you don't know me ... all I can say is that I'm truly sorry for what you're hearing and going through.

The chaos will eventually end ... I'm just not sure when. Stay strong and be safe ... and we will be okay.

I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There’s only one thing you should know
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn’t even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn’t even matter

Linkin Park - In the End

Kevin Smith Vs. Prince ...

2011-09-09T16:29:00.004-04:00

I'll admit I'm coming to this late ... somewhere around a decade late. But have ya'll heard the story about Kevin Smith vs. Prince? I have no idea how I missed this meme ... but it's hilarious ...

The short version is that Kevin wanted to use The Most Beautiful Girl In the World for a scene in Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back ... and, while Prince flat our refused the request, he struck up an odd, short-lived friendship of sorts with Kevin and asked if Kevin would film a documentary for him. What follows is funny as hell ... in a off-color, Kevin Smith sort of way.

I'm a huge Prince fan ... and an even bigger Kevin Smith fan ... so this is a home run. Rather than embed the videos myself, I'm gonna send you to another site that has each of the four parts embedded in a post. You can find it here.

Listen to it, if for no other reason than to hear the story of Prince making a call asking for someone to bring him a camel at 3 a.m. in Minnesota in January. Apparently Prince has been living in Prince World for quite some time now ...

All 7 and we'll watch them fall
They stand in the way of love
And we will smoke them all
With an intellect and a savoir faire
No one else in the whole universe
Will ever compare
I am urs now and u are mine
And 2gether we'll love through
All space and time, so don't cry
One day all 7 will die

Prince - 7

Rain Glorious Rain!

2011-09-09T10:07:00.005-04:00

I love rain. And I love rainy, gloomy days. So sue me. I grew up on The Cure and Morrissey ... what do you expect? Also, I suspect in another life I lived in Seattle ...

Twenty year old me wants to put the stereo on and open a window ... pull up a beanbag chair and a good book ... and just sit and chill and breath in that cool rainy air. But time marches on ...

Forty year old me enjoys the rain for far different reasons. At this point, it's especially useful because it tamps down all the pollen and allergens in the air. I'm hoping this will help with the itchy eye thing I've got going on. Cause as it stands right now, I look like I've either got windburn on my upper cheeks ... or a mild case of rosacea.

So let it rain ... and hopefully sooner rather than later, I will feel like moving ... or having a conversation ... or doing ... well, just about anything.

When you say it's gonna happen "now"
Well, when exactly do you mean ?
See I've already waited too long
And all my hope is gone

The Smiths - How Soon Is Now
P.S. - If you get a minute, listen to How Soon Is Now ... there's something about the guitar on this song. When I listen to it, I'm back in 1985 ... it's like an aural time machine.

The Unbearable Itchiness of Being ...

2011-09-08T15:01:00.002-04:00

I look like somebody punched me in the head ... literally. Last Friday morning, I woke up and my right eye was nearly swollen shut. No, no ... I wasn't part of some extreme cage match for middle-aged women ... although that does sound colorful. It's just a sinus infection and allergies.

I tried treating it myself ... starting with Benadryl ... which, by the way, is the bastard stepchild of NyQuil and Dramamine. It initially worked, or at least I assume it worked because my eyes were better once I woke up from the coma. But in the end, I had to break down and admit I couldn't fix it myself. Mr. ThirtyWhat took me to the doctor ... who gave me Augmenten for the infection ... and suggested Claritin D for the allergies.

The eyes? Well, the itchiness and swelling ... the unbearable itchiness ... that's just allergies. The redness and bruising is from my rubbing them. You have no idea how nearly impossible it is not to rub them. I just have to wait for the Claritin to help ... and possibly buy myself some mittens ...

Woke up this morning
Fell out of bed
An all night juke box
Pounding in my head
Was I moving on Susie
Was I stomping on Jane
I was waiting for the thunder
Standing in the rain
I've been itching all over
I don't know know know which way is which

Kix - The Itch

What I Did and What I Should've Done ...

2011-09-06T09:36:00.006-04:00

My father died June 13, 2005. He was in the military and did some pretty extraordinary things ... but for the last six years, his ribbons and pins and awards and paperwork have all been stored in two tubs in my closet.

Not that I didn't care or wasn't interested. I just ... "compartmentalized" it. His things were safe in my closet. I knew they were there. I knew they would continue to be there until I was ready to look through everything. Well, today I remembered why I stored everything away for so long ... it just hurts too much to dig into it.

A little back story ... my Dad was pretty amazing. My biggest regret in life (so far) is that I didn't spend more time just talking to him. A thousand times I called the house ... a thousand times he answered ... and nine hundred and ninety nine times I asked to talk to Mom. It wasn't until he had his massive heart attack that we connected ... and then I only had eight months to do a lifetime worth of catching up. Not nearly long enough.

I can tell you want I know about him. He and his parents didn't get along. Around eighteen, he "ran off" and joined the Marine Corps. You'd think my grandparents would've been proud of everything their son accomplished ... and he accomplished a lot ... but they weren't. They were resentful that he'd left their small, rural town ... and even when he moved back years later, they still held it against him.

He was enlisted ... retired as a Master Sargent ... went to Viet Nam ... earned his wings ... was part of some Agent Orange crew ... came back home and got Yankee White clearance ... was selected to work on Marine One ... and managed, during all this, to have a spectacular little girl.

Fast forward. A couple weeks ago, I got a wild hair and decided to dig out those tubs and find out what was in them. I have all this paperwork ... his original acceptance to the Marines ... his separation papers ... his honorable discharge ... a certificate signed by the president for his service ... all sorts of things I need to read. I have three different "yearbooks" ... two that look like they're from his boot camp and one that appears to be ... as crazy as it sounds ... a yearbook from Viet Nam. I had to put them all away ... it was too emotional to see where he'd marked out or made notes next to the soldiers he was friends with ... and the ones who had died.

Mr. ThirtyWhat bought me a beautiful shadow box ... and I'm working on filling it with some mementos ... things from Marine One like a pen, a tie clip, and a cigarette box (yes, they had cigarette boxes stamped with the presidential seal ... crazy, eh?) Plus I have Dad's dog tags, his ribbons, his insignia ... a couple of photos ... all the standard things you would put in a shadowbox. Everything but his wings.

When he left me his truck, I put his wings on the sun visor. At any moment, I could look up and feel like he was with me. I know I took them out of the truck when we traded it in ... but now I can't find them. So, I'm looking online ... trying to find out how to replace them. And it's too much to bear. Looking up all the information ... finding out how to contact the Bureau of Naval Personnel to request his records and replacement medals ... it's all too much.

Part of it is the overwhelming guilt that I lost his wings in the first place. Part of it is the overwhelming sadness that I didn't get to ask him more questions. He has an Agent Orange pin that says "Sprayed and Betrayed" ... did the Marines give him that? I can't believe they would admit to having betrayed their soldiers by exposing them to toxic chemicals ... but if he didn't get it from them, where did it come from? And all those ribbons ... he could've told me what each one meant. But I didn't ask. I can honestly say that I thought I had more time ... but so what? Everyone thinks that.

I'm stuck in a loop ... asking the question "Who can I talk to about this item?" and knowing the answer "There's no one left ... I waited too long." At this point, all I can do is write the appropriate agency, send them the death certificate and the required information, and see what they send back. According to the website, it takes up to a year to receive anything from this type of request ... so once I complete everything, I'll have a year to wait. But at this point, what's a year? I've already waited forty two ...

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass
It's just a moment
This time will pass

U2 - Stuck in a Moment

Closing Time ...

2011-09-02T15:29:00.003-04:00

Ugh ... it's happening again ... that withdrawing feeling. I could write about Wilfred or the upcoming holiday or this weekend's Ethnic Festival. But really? I don't care.

What I want is peace and quiet. I want time to talk to Mr. ThirtyWhat ... I want to make me a fresh lemonade shakeup ... I want to watch the True Bloods we've been missing ... and a movie or two ... I want to avoid the 100 degree heat ... and because it's family, I'll make a point of spending a little time with my brother who will be spending 24 hours here before making the 8 hour drive back home (yeah, I know ... don't ask) ...

It's not much to ask for ... a lil' break in the monotony before going back to work next Tuesday. And maybe my batteries will feel recharged and I'll feel like taking on the world again ...

Bus boy, bartender, ladies of the night
Grease monkey, ex-junky, winner of the fight
Walking on the streets its really all the same
Selling souls, rock n' roll, any other game
Workin' for a livin' (workin')
Workin' for a livin' (workin')
Workin' for a livin', livin' and workin'
I'm taking what they giving 'cause I'm working for a livin'

Huey Lewis and the News - Workin' For A Livin'

A Day In the Life ...

2011-08-31T10:33:00.004-04:00

Well, I did not get the LJS Peg Legs I was jonesing for ... but that's alright. Our daughter turned us on to an amazing recipe that we tried for the first time last night. Very tasty!

The short description is that you marinate pork chops in buttermilk overnight, roll them in a panko/flour/parmesan mix, brown them in a skillet, then bake them in a dish with chicken stock covering the bottom. They were really good ... plus Mr. ThirtyWhat could eat them. Winning! You can find the entire recipe here ... check it out!

I saw the kidney stone specialist yesterday. I swear between visits to Memorial and visits to Springfield Clinic, we alone are funding the new medical district. But we got good news ... tests show the staghorn they took out was a "uric acid" stone. I'm now on medication that should not only prevent formation of new stones ... but may dissolve the old ones. Yay for me. These pills, which I have to take twice a day, are roughly the size of my pinkie finger ... but ... that's okay. The ends justify the means.

Besides that, the day was long. After our delicious dinner, I spent the better part of an hour searching for one specific King of the Hill episode. Yeah, I know ... I really gotta get a life. But in any case, I found it and got a good laugh out of it.

I'm about half way down with the baby blanket I'm working on. It seems to be taking longer than usual ... maybe because there's more stitches? More color changes? I donno ... most blankets I can bang out in a week or two ... but this one is dragging. Still, it's relaxing so it's a good thing.

And so after a bit of rushing around ... a run of the mill night. All in all not too shabby.

They'll stone you when you're trying to be so good
They'll stone you just like they said they would
They'll stone you when you're trying to go home
They'll stone you when you're there all alone
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned

Bob Dylan - Everybody Must Get Stoned

One More Thought ...

2011-08-30T14:22:00.004-04:00

About six months ago, right around Lent, the Long John Silvers on Sangamon went out of business. Now how the hell a fish shop can go out of business in the middle of Lent is completely beyond me. If you can't make a profit selling fish to Catholics in the month of April, then you're really doing something wrong.

Anyway ... the nearby LJS closed and I haven't had a single peg leg since. At the time, I thought the closing was a positive random happenstance. I'm not the healthiest of individuals and this basically took away a horrifically calorified lunch option. Yay me, right?

Okay, it's been six months now and goddamn it I need some Long John Silvers. I am a junkie sorely in need of a grease-filled fix. The closest one would be on Clocktower Drive ... so it would be relatively cold and soggy by the time I got it home. Also, Mr. ThirtyWhat still can't eat breaded or battered items ... too much radiation damage ... so he couldn't partake in this trans-fat orgy with me. Unfortunately, like most other binges, it's always more fun when someone else goes on the lost weekend with you.

So I don't know how I'm going to make this happen ... [shakes fist Scarlet O'Hara style] but at some point ... in some way ... as God as my witness ... there will be a hushpuppy in my future.

Ah, but when that clock strikes midnight
And I'm all by myself
I work that combination on my secret hideaway shelf
And I pull out some Fritos corn chips
Dr Pepper and an 'ole Moon Pie
Then I sit back in glorious expectation
Of a genuine junk food high
In the daytime I'm Mr Natural
Just as healthy as I can be
Oh, but at night I'm a junk food junkie
Good lord have pity on me

Larry Groce - Junk Food Junkie

I Get a Little Bit Closer ...

2011-08-30T11:53:00.006-04:00

Wow ... one day out of the gate and the universe is really trying to screw with me. I will not give into the drama ...

Finding the fun ...

I got to crochet a little on a blanket I'm working on ... that's relaxing ...

Um ... yeah, okay that's all I've got. The bagel and cream cheese I had for dinner last night was pretty tasty ... I got to go to sleep around ten ... but I didn't surf ... I didn't read ... so it was kind of a wash. Oh well, every day isn't going to be cupcakes and pony rides. But I've had a bit of good recently.

We went to the Old Capital Blues and BBQ Fest this weekend. I'm not a huge blues fan but Mr. ThirtyWhat absolutely loves the stuff ... conversely, I love ribs ... so this was a win win all the way around.

Oh, and we got a new car last week ... a little black Toyota Corolla. When I go to work each morning, I love driving him. He's so clean and shiny. I gotta work on keeping him that way so he doesn't end up like our Mazda Tribute ... which has hundreds of empty straw wrappers in its door compartment ... which is totally my fault ... sorry, honey.

Anyhow ... everyday is a winding road, as Sheryl would say. Goods and bads ... right now I'm eating some Chicago mix popcorn ... that's pretty good.

Jump in, let's go
Lay back, enjoy the show
Everybody gets high, everybody gets low
These are the days when anything goes
Everyday is a winding road
I get a little bit closer
Everyday is a faded sign
I get a little bit closer to feeling fine

Sheryl Crow - Everyday Is A Winding Road

Finding the Fun ...

2011-08-29T11:13:00.004-04:00

There are two types of people in this world ... actually there are many more than two types of people in this world but for the sake of this post, let's go with two ... the type of people who, when facing difficulty, need to talk it out ... and the type who withdraw and just want to be left alone.

My brother and I are the classic definition of these two types of people. For as long as I've known him, whenever he's down or having issues, he turns to my Mom. He'll make the eight hour drive to Illinois just to pour his heart out to her. I, on the other hand, am the complete opposite. I live five minutes from her, but if I'm feeling down the last thing I want to do is share. If I'm happy, I'll talk and laugh and gossip ... but if I'm worried or frustrated, just give me my space.

Until I met my husband, there wasn't anyone I really confided in. I suppose that's why everyone thought I was so happy and bubbly ... because they only saw me when I was happy and bubbly. I'm finding the same to be true about blogging. When things are going relatively well, I can think of 100 things I want to write about. But when I'm feeling down, I can think of 100 things I want to write about ... but none of them seem worth the herculean effort it would take to actually write them.

In the last eighteen months, my husband has been diagnosed with nasopharygeal cancer, gone through two separate rounds of chemotherapy treatments, gone through radiation, developed necrotic bone in his jaw, went through six weeks of hyperbaric oxygen treatments, and developed PTSD because of the absolute hell he's been through. At the same time, after a painful trip to the ER, they found multiple kidney stones in my already cyst-laden kidneys including one large staghorn, performed lithotripsy and two surgeries to remove them, all while trying to maintain my fragile kidney function.

Oh wait ... that isn't enough? After twenty years with the federal government they're closing my office in 2013 ... so I have until then to either transfer to a different agency, move to St. Louis with my agency, or find something in the private sector. To say the last 18 months has been overwhelming would be the understatement of the century.

So why am I back? I have to start focusing on the fun in my life. It's so easy to become mired in everything that's wrong. There's a thousand platitudes about being thankful for what you have ... but in the end, as my husband said this weekend, it's just about slowing down and enjoying today.

When things were bad last year ... when he couldn't eat ... when we had to put burn ointment on his neck and shoulders because of the blistering ... in this midst of that madness, each night I would say to him, "Tell me one good thing that happened today ..." Some days it was a struggle to come up with something ... but he always did. So if he can find the good while fighting his fight ... surely I can find the good in all this.

Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
God's gonna trouble the water

Spiritual - Wade in the Water

ThirtyWhat's Semi-Annual Voyage of the Damned

2011-02-17T11:01:00.004-04:00

Good Morning, everyone ... and thank you for visiting the ThirtyWhat Travel Agency ... now re-opened and re-branded as ThirtyWhasity. You may recognize our slogan, "Like Travelocity ... without that creepy roaming gnome bastard."

We specialize in semi-annual cruises for celebrities that must be removed from popular culture ... for their safety and our mental health.

Twice a year, we load up our custom-fitted cruise ship, the S.S. Damned, with everyone who has stuck their mugs in the camera one too many times. Each case is different. It takes some celebrities years to earn themselves a ticket ... and then there are those special people who come out of nowhere ... such as past guest, K-Fed ... who, oddly enough, earned his ticket by simply banging fellow guest, Britney Spears.

The plan, as always, is to load up the boat ... and dump their worthless asses on an uninhabitable island in the South Pacific. Our passengers will be under the impression that they'll be stars on a brand new reality television show. And being the media attention whores that they are, their asses will be jumping ship as soon as they spot land. They'll spend the rest of their miserable lives waiting for Jeff Probst to show up and preening for non-existent cameras.

Each trip, we bestow the title of "captain" on one lucky individual who has been voted "Most Hideous Waste of Human Breath That Somehow Achieved World-Wide Acclaim and Celebrity Status."

I'm proud to announce that I'll be handing over this year's captain's hat to Lindsay Lohan. Lindsay's earned this noble title because she was already on the S.S. Damned back in 2007 and somehow managed to swim her alcoholic, klepto ass back to shore. We're hoping that, by giving her the captain's chair, there's a better chance she'll stay gone. Here's to hoping.

We're also pleased to announce a new position on the S.S. Damned ... Cruise Director. This celebrity will be in charge of entertainment and morale during our voyage. This year's Cruise Director will be Charlie Sheen ... because, quite frankly, who can throw a party like Charlie Sheen? Plus he always brings his own hookers and blow! We look at this as a two birds - one stone situation ... we will get to dump his coked-out ass on a island in the middle of the ocean ... and he'll keep the other celebrities high and happy. It's a win-win as far as we're concerned.

This year's ticket holders include:

Miley Cyrus and Billy Ray Cyrus - This is more of a preemptive strike. Let's be honest ... they haven't really earned their tickets yet. But with Miley determined to follow in the steps of her fellow Disney alumni Britney, it's only a matter of time before she shaves her head and starts beating paparazzi with an umbrella. Billy Ray? This week's interview where you blamed Disney for your family problems ... that bought your ticket, Billy. Get your ass onboard.

Kate Gosselin - Again, let's be honest ... Kate's already sealed her own fate. Her fifteen minutes of fame are over and it won't be long before the mansion is gone and she, and the kids, are living in a van down by the river. So why was she graced with a ticket? Because I'm doing those kids a favor. Getting Kate the hell out of their lives is the only chance they have at normalcy. You're welcome, tiny Gosselings ... use this opportunity wisely.

Justin Beiber - Sweet baby Jesus ... if I have to hear him squeal "Baby Baby Baby Ooooooooooh" one more time, somebody is gonna bleed. He's everywhere ... tv, commercials, radio, movies ... this must end.

Mel Gibson - I'm not gonna lie ... Mel Gibson is too offensive to even be allowed to step foot on board. But fear not, Mel ... we've arranged for you to be towed behind in a dinghy while an onboard video monitor plays a continuous loop of Fiddler On The Roof ... enjoy!

Lady GaGa - Ugh ... it's art. I get it. Now get on the boat.

The Kardashians - What will Kim, Kourtney, and Khloe do on the boat? Why, the same thing they do now, Pinky ... nothing. But I'm sure they'll look lovely sun bathing on deck during the cruise ... and given their love of media, I'm sure they'll be the first ones jumping overboard at the first sight of land.

The entire cast of Jersey Shore - This is my gift to you, America. Between "TheSituation" pulling his shirt up every 30 seconds like a drooling, incontinent toddler ("Mommy, look at my belly!") and Snookie's unfortunate obession with Bumpits and spray tan, it's a moral imperative that we get these people out of the gene pool ASAP.

Now, there are a few more tickets still available ... and quite a few celebrities that are this close to making the cut. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Willow Smith ... the only reason you're not on deck right now is because I blame your parents for Whip My Hair as much as I blame you. Adam Sandler? One more inane humorless movie ... just one more and you, my friend, will be on the boat.

There's still time ... and cabins are still available. So if you'd like to nominate an A-list celebrity that you simply can't put up with a moment longer, let us know. We're willing to accept the names of b-list or c-list stars ... but their accomodations will be in steerage.

We can only hope for an iceburg ...

I'm on a boat, I'm on a boat
Everybody look at me
'Cause I'm sailing on a boat
I'm on a boat, I'm on a boat
Take a good long look
At the motherfucking boat

The Lonely Island - I'm On a Boat

Out From Under ...

2011-02-15T10:39:00.006-04:00

The problem with creating monsters is that at some point you have to reveal them. Worse yet, the more horrific ... the more terrifying ... those monsters are, the harder that reveal becomes. This holds true whether we're talking books or movies or television ... in the end, you have to show the monster.

When it comes to authors, Stephen King is usually up to the task. And let's face it, this is a problem he faces more than most. In his case, almost every book contains a monster ... and whether it's a monster you hate such as Pennywise or Randall Flagg ... or a monster you pity such as Carrie or Charlie ... most of the time, his reveals are gory, gruesome, and satisfying. Unfortunately, no one is perfect ... no one bats a hundred.

I don't know if I'm one of the "constant readers" that King references ... but I probably come pretty close. I've read most of his books ... some I've adored, others not so much. Book reviews don't phase me ... I prefer to decide for myself.

For instance, everyone loves The Stand and It, right? But what about Cell? From the moment I picked it up, Cell was one of my absolute favorites. Reviewers and I differ on that opinion ... but that's alright. My Blackberry is on me at all times ... and the concept of "The Pulse" terrified me.

On the other end of that spectrum is Insomnia and The Dark Tower Series. I couldn't force myself to finish Insomnia ... and I've picked up The Dark Tower time and time again but it just doesn't pull me in. And that's what I need from a Stephen King book ... that initial grab that just doesn't let go.

Which brings us to Under the Dome. It grabbed me hard ... and I couldn't stop reading. But in the end ... that "it factor" just wasn't ... there.

Was it the reveal? Maybe. I can't say much without spoiling it for you; but discovering the monster who trapped these people under the dome ... it didn't give me that sense of dread and terror that I expected. The problem may have also been the large cast of characters. Ginny and Gina ... Sammy and Rusty ... Twitch and Chef ... Julia and Brenda ... sweet Jesus, man! I kept thinking, "Is Joe that smart kid that accidentally shot himself? Wait no ... that kid is dead. Ollie? No. So who the hell is Joe?"

It's a decent read ... fair. But it's far from one of King's best. I'm not one of those readers who believe his best days are behind him. The Shining was a work of art ... but, as I said earlier, I loved Cell and I've loaned my copy of Everything's Eventual out so many times, I no longer remember who has it.

So go out to Barnes & Noble and get a copy. Better yet, if you have an iPod, Kindle, or iPad, go download it. Under the Dome really is an enjoyable read ... as long as you keep your expectations somewhere in the middle. Just remember ... it's not The Shining ... but hey, it's not Insomnia either.

I read your book
And I find it strange
That I know that girl and I know her world
A little too well

Cheryl Crow - The Book

I'd Like To Buy the World a Coke ...

2011-02-11T10:53:00.004-04:00

How much would you pay for an ice-cold Coca-Cola? One buck? Two? Five? Would you pay twenty five thousand? Twenty five thousand dollars ... that is the cost of one lithotripsy treatment at Memorial Medical Center. Seeing that statement took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes.

Not that we'll owe the whole amount ... that's the wonder of health insurance after all. Still though ... 10% of $25,000 is $2,500 ... and since the staghorn on the left is going to require two to three more treatments ... it looks like we'll be hitting that catastrophic mark again this year ... and we'll probably hit it by mid-March.

Bleak financial information aside ... for anyone wondering what lithotripsy was like ...

We checked into the Balis building around six a.m. All the normal pre-op stuff followed ... medical history, inserting the IV, etc. They gave me a gown and hospital pants ... and for the record, I hate hospital pants ... they are not sewn for a normal human shape.) And shortly after that, they walked me back to the area.

Now here's the interesting part. They don't sit you in a tank of water anymore. Apparently that's old school. Now, you sit up on an operating table. It has a half-circle cut out of the side that they're working on ... and a round device is pressed into your kidney area. At this point, they start the "happy juice" ... and the world goes dark.

Now ... as a side note, once in the operating room, I assured the doctors, nurses, and anyone else in the room that I could do this without anesthesia if they would just let me try. They had a good natured laugh while they assured me that I couldn't. One nurse explained that she accidentally got her hand between the patient and the sound wave generator once ... and said it really hurt. I told her I'd heard it feels like having a rubber band snapped against your skin. She cringed and said, "Yes ... if it was a big rubber band and they stretched it really far."

At this point the anesthesiologist took a moment to talk to me. He said that years ago they used to just sedate patients ... not completely put them under. But patients did feel the pain and did react to it ... and by putting patients completely under, they can eliminate most kidney stones in one treatment instead of three or four.

So, I woke up groggy ... but all the kidney stones on my right side are gone. I'll be honest, for the next week or so, I had some back pain. Nothing overwhelming ... but it was definitely sore. We'll still have to go back and address the stag horn ... but so far, so good.

So ... do I want that Coca-Cola? More than you can imagine. But it's not worth $25k and that's basically what I'd be paying ... because I'd be starting the process all over again. Right now I'm caffeine and phosphate free ... and I'm just going to have to keep it that way.

I'd like to buy the world a home
And furnish it with love
Grow apple trees and honey bees
And snow white turtle doves
I'd like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I'd like to buy the world a Coke
And keep it company

The New Seekers - I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing
Original Coca-Cola Version - 1971

Let Them Eat Cake ... And They Did!

2011-01-31T10:39:00.003-04:00

And in other news ... be careful what you wish for ...

Oh yes ... I had cake. Cake ... and mousse and chocolate covered strawberries and roast pork and cheesy potatoes and popcorn balls and roast beef and herb chicken and pulled pork with BBQ sauce and penne with alfredo ... and more cake.

Sounds like a binge at the local Golden Corral, right? Nope! This was a trip to the Everything Wedding Expo yesterday afternoon. OMIGOD ... there was so much food there ... it was obscene. Every baker and caterer in Central Illinois was handing out generous samples. If you were hungry before you walked in (and I kinda was) ... within 10 minutes, that wasn't even remotely a concern.

But the food porn eventually wears off ... and then you notice the beautiful flower arrangements ... the unique center pieces ... and some gorgeous (and some not so gorgeous) wedding gowns. (Note: For those who attended I'm referring to the swan lake number. I'll support you in whatever you wanna wear, CollegeOne ... I promised. But ... still ... feathers?)

Over the years I've been to quite a few of these ... if you're a woman, it's inevitable. As friends get married, you just naturally end up going to wedding shows at various hotels and venues. Overall, this one, at the Prairie Capital Convention Center ... meh. It wasn't the best ... but it was far from the worst. (Remind me to tell you about one I went to up in Peoria once ... shudder ...)

The nature of a convention center doesn't really mesh well with a wedding show. Convention centers are large, warehouse-like structures that echo and have concrete floors and ceilings 200 feet tall ... not horrible, mind you ... just not as "intimate" as other venues. It's hard for vendors to look elegant as they're shouting above the din ...

All in all though ... it was good company ... and good cake ...

Hey little sister what have you done?
Hey little sister who's the only one?
Hey little sister who's your superman?
Hey little sister who's the one you want?
Hey little sister shot gun!
It's a nice day to start again.
It's a nice day for a white wedding.

Billy Idol - White Wedding

Note: These lyrics are in honor of the sponsor
of Sunday's bridal fashion show who apparently
compiled their play list by googling "mp3+wedding."
FYI - White Wedding, while an incredibly cool song,
really isn't about a happy wedding day.
Note the words "shot gun" up there?

I Can Still Eat Cake, Right???

2011-01-27T12:23:00.004-04:00

I am not angry ... although it's hard not to be. I suppose this is what they call chronic pain ... nagging ongoing pain that lasts for days or weeks. It's difficult. It's depressing. It makes me frustrated and yes, at times, angry.

I know the cause ... kidney stones. And tomorrow is the big day ... lithotripsy under general anesthesia. I'm really ready for this to be over. The constant twinges ... the painful spasms. I'm developing an aversion to going to the bathroom and that's just not normal.

On the other hand, I do not want to be put under. I have no fear of dying ... on the contrary, I'm okay with that. I do have an intense dislike of that "drugged" feeling I have for two or three days afterward. I'm a very open, talkative person and for me not to be physically able to communicate ... it's very difficult.

Plus our oldest daughter is getting married ... and Sunday is the city's largest bridal expo. We all have tickets and I'm genuinely excited about going ... but how much fun am I going to be be if I'm walking around in a haze? Ugh ...

There's no choice ... it has to be done. Best I can do is keep a positive attitude and expect the best. So I'll report back in a few days and let you know what lithotripsy is like ... and what kind of cake I got to taste at the bridal expo!

Go ahead and leave me.
I think I prefer to stay inside.
Maybe you'll find someone else to help you.
Maybe Black Mesa -
THAT WAS A JOKE. HA HA, FAT CHANCE.
Anyway, this cake is great:
It's so delicious and moist.

Jonathan Coulton - Still Alive

When Is a Staghorn Not a Stag Horn ...

2011-01-24T12:34:00.000-04:00

So here's my story ...

It was 1:30 a.m. on December 31st and I woke up with a horrible stabbing pain on my right side. Now I've had kidney stones before so my first instinct was to think, "Damn, it's a kidney stone ..." So I took a pain pill and laid on the couch waiting for the pill to kick in and the pain to pass.

Five minutes later I was violently sick and ... you guessed it ... there went the pain pill. But at that point, it hits me ... what if this isn't a kidney stone? It's on the right side ... where the appendix is. What if me throwing up is a sign from God that it's my appendix and if I just lay here it's going to rupture and I'm going to die!

Yes, before you ask, at that point I went from low-grade paranoia to full on panic and I woke everyone in the house and told them I needed to go to the ER right this very minute.

Our daughter faithfully, and without complaint, got up and drove me to the ER ... only to find out that yes, it was a kidney stone. [sigh] So now I'm in horrible pain and I feel stupid. That's a fantastic combination, just in case you're wondering.

The CT scan shows several small stones on the right side ... including one in the urethra ... and a large "staghorn" on the left side.

Do you know what a "staghorn" is? Yeah, neither did I. It's a large kidney stone shaped like ... wait for it ... a stag horn. They're apparently dangerous as they grow quickly, will never be passed due to their size and shape, and can cause blockage which can eventually lead to sepsis. The ones on the right are 3-4 mm ... very small ... but that left one is 3.5 cm ... a problem.

The worse problem? The one on the right is what's causing the intense pain ... that big one is just floating around quietly growing. And so, after a serious of strange and unfortunate events, I've come to having lithotrispy planned for January 28th. Just the right ones for now ... that big one on the left will be later and he will take two to three treatments to break up to a passable size.

I am not happy about any of this. I obviously don't like pain ... but just as much I don't like general anesthesia and apparently this is required for lithotripsy these days. Two doctors have now assured me that it's essential that you not move at all during the process and so most doctors now require full anesthesia so there's no dangers of them zapping the wrong spot.

No amount of prodding, pleading, or begging could get them to change their mind. I even offered to have an epidural ... as if I'm giving birth to these damned stones ... but no. If you aren't unconscious, it's your body's natural response to flinch at the sound and feel of the shock ... so there's no discussion. It's anesthesia ... or on-going pain, possible blockage, and eventually possible loss of the entire kidney. [sigh]

It's always something ...

I step up to the table in the middle of my life
And I take my cards and I check them twice
I've got a killer hand and I'm ready to stake my claim
The cops raid the game
It's Always Something
It's Always Something
It's Always Something
Everyday
It's Always Something

Rick Springfield - It's Always Something

Life Is Bigger ...

2011-01-21T14:54:00.004-04:00

We found out this morning that my uncle passed away. It's such a terribly sad thing. He had a sudden, massive heart attack Wednesday morning around 3 a.m. ... and the hospital only gave him 48 hours ... just enough time to gather the family.

This branch of my family tree is in Champaign ... so we don't see each other very often. I rode over with my Mom to visit with them last year and I spent the whole day catching up with my aunt and uncle and my cousin. And even though I'm not very fond of that cousin, I do feel terribly for her ... I went through the loss of my Dad five years ago and it breaks my heart to know she's going through it now.

Life is so short ... everything can be fine one moment ... then the world shifts on it's axis the next. Tell the people you love how much you care ... because you just never know.

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

REM - Losing My Religion

My Load Gets a Little Lighter ...

2010-12-17T17:58:00.005-04:00

It's as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The clouds have cleared and, for now, I can see the sun.

I needed to make some Christmas Eve/Christmas Day scheduling arrangements for the last couple weeks ... and I'd procrastinated to point of insanity. Things could've gone two ways ... easily and peacefully ... or horribly, horribly badly.

I didn't want to over-think it ... because there was no reason why it shouldn't be a peaceful, easy discussion. But then again there was every chance it was going to turn into the sob-filled screaming match it was last year.

Last year I pretty much demanded everyone gather for Christmas. And, to their credit, everyone did. There weren't any harsh words or negativity ... but there was a lot of tension and a few moments I could've lived without.

But this year is different. We have been through a lot this year. And I realize that not everyone's lives have been touched by the same grief and sickness and upheaval that we've gone through ... but we've lived it seven days a week, twenty four hours a day. This year has put a few things in perspective for me.

We all make our own reality. The decisions we make craft the kind of life we live ... and we have to live with those decisions. You can choose to stand your ground and demand to have your way ... you can refuse to bend. That's your prerogative. And as long as you can live in that reality you craft and as long as you can live with the consequences of the choices you make ... then carry on.

In the end, I can't fix everything. I'm not insisting everyone get together for the holiday. In fact, I think it's counter-productive and I'd rather we didn't. I want peace. Life is too short for drama and I've decided that if I feel like I'm swimming upstream then I'm going in the wrong direction.

I wish things were different ... I really do. But this way isn't bad. In fact, it's good. I do see sunlight ... and my only goal now is to stay in that sunlight as long as possible ...

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It's gonna be a bright, bright sun-shiny day

Johnny Nash - I Can See Clearly Now

My Personal Marathon ...

2010-11-22T13:37:00.005-04:00

If you trained for a marathon ... you could run one. By the finish line you'd be tired and sore ... but at the end of the day you'd feel a sense of accomplishment and pride.

But let's say the next day you wake up and someone says, "Okay, time to run another marathon!" Okay, you can do it. You're strong ... you're resilient. You come home even more tired ... even more sore ... but you make it.

But now it's the third day and someone wakes you up and says, "Okay, time to run another marathon!" and you're already exhausted. You can barely walk, let alone run ... and yet, you're out there running it.

Now let's say this goes on for months. Six months. Every day you wake up and you run that marathon. At this point you're not worried about how fast you finish or how strong you finish ... you're just praying you make it to the finish line at all.

That ... is living with cancer.

Sure, it sucks ... but that's just how it is. It doesn't matter that you're sore or tired or ready to just sit down and cry ... you just have to push through it because there really isn't any other choice.

And at the end, there isn't a medal or a trophy ... at the end, if you're lucky, you have your loved one with you and you can grow old together ... which is much better than a trophy, if you ask me.

So yes ... yes, I'm tired. Yes, I should sleep more. No, I'm not eating right. Yes, I do need time for me. But this ... this is important. It will probably be the most important thing I do. At the very least it's the most important thing I've done so far ...

So run the marathon with me ... or get out of the way. Because I don't have time to discuss how things should be ... I'm too busy living with the way things are right now.

Don't wanna wait til tomorrow
Why put it off another day
One by one, little problems
Build up and stand in our way
One step ahead, one step behind
Now you gotta run to get even
Make future plans, I'll dream about yesterday
C'mon turn, turn this thing around

Van Halen - Right Now

Sweet Grilled Cheezus ...

2010-10-06T10:06:00.005-04:00

Did you watch Glee last night? Me too. Sucked didn't it? I hated almost everything about it. I don't even know where to start.

First and foremost, CollegeOne said it best last night ... not every atheist is an atheist because they're "mad at God." Not every atheist feels God has "wronged" them. It's an easy plot device ... but it's simply not true.

What about the people who compare faith to scientific fact and find the former lacking? What that episode needed was for Artie to stand up (metaphorically speaking, of course) and say something like, "I'm an atheist ... but I'm not mad at God. God didn't put me in this chair. A car accident put me in this chair ... and medical science, not prayer, is going to get me out of it."

On another note, Finn finds his spirituality (granted, it was through grilled cheese) ... and Emma Pillsbury takes it on herself to crush it under her heel. Now I'll admit she had to say something ... after all, there's a student sitting in front of her admitting he prays to a sandwich. But my God, the scene where he sits and eats it ... and then you see the empty plate ... how desolate was that? How depressing?

Kurt ... poor, poor Kurt. Because of my past experience, I feel for that character. No, I'm not gay. But my father had a heart attack, spent a month in the hospital, and I grew very tired of the religious hand wringing that went on. But I was much older than Kurt ... and with age comes patience. You realize that people mean well. They're only doing what they think is right. In any case, Kurt was lashing out ... and I understand that.

The whole episode was heavy handed and morose. Bringing Sue's sister out every time they want to show her humanity ... how many times can you play that card? And by God, if Finn truly believed the sandwich was answering prayers, why wouldn't he have asked for Burt Hummel to be healed?

Did I like anything about this episode? Yes ... yes, I did. I loved Grilled Cheezus ... and look what happened to him ...

When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best
When I lay me down to die
Goin' up to the spirit in the sky
Goin' up to the spirit in the sky
That's where I'm gonna go when I die
When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best

Norman Greenbaum - Spirit in the Sky

What Springfield Wants ...

2010-10-01T10:46:00.006-04:00

It's that time again ... time for those ubiquitous campaign ads. While you can't tell much about someone from a 30 second advertisement, you can tell none of the candidates are coming across as Mensa candidates. If you look like you aren't smart enough to balance your own checking account, why should I trust you to balance the State's?

I've seen the ad that shows a candidate repairing farm equipment ... and I can't tell you how relieved I am. Small engine repair should really come in handy up at the State House. I've also seen the ad with a candidate bragging that he coaches a high school baseball team. That guy went so far as to film a group of angry looking teens behind him. What's the underlying message there? Are they going to show up at my door and whack my knee caps with a baseball bat if I don't support him? Shame those kids can't vote for him ... because I'm sure not going to.

But you know what my number one pet peeve is? Ads where the candidates rail against "Springfield." You know the ones I mean ...

"Springfield doesn't pay it's bills!"
"We need to show Springfield that we're angry!"

I live in Springfield ... and I vote. Want to know a secret? SPRINGFIELD'S POPULATION IS NOT MADE UP ENTIRELY OF POLITICIANS. The majority of us don't work at the Capitol. The majority of us are hard-working citizens and it's insulting when you make a campaign ad that disparages "Springfield."

I understand this is a common turn of phrase ... such as "Washington is corrupt." There are thousands of good people who live in Washington, D.C. and those statements are in reference to the political body housed in Washington. I get that. And I get that's what the corn pone politicians around here are trying to do ... but Springfield isn't Washington.

We're a state capital ... with a small-town feel. No one is more than two or three degrees removed from someone else. All of us have had the experience of meeting someone for the first time and finding out they graduated from the same school you graduated from ... or went to the same church ... or their uncle married your aunt years ago ... or your grandparents were friends back in the day.

I wasn't born here ... but I've lived here long enough that it feels like a hometown to me. And it's insulting to be cooking dinner and hear politicians in the background bad-mouthing Springfield ... as if we're all in on the scam. Guess what? We couldn't get Blagojevich to come down here unless we paid an Elvis impersonator and a hairdresser to meet him at Capital Airport.

We aren't in on it ... Springfield wants good, trustworthy representation just like everyone else. Springfield works hard and wants our politicians to work as hard as we do. Springfield ... votes. Something you aspiring politicians might want to keep in mind next time you're filming your next campaign masterpiece.

Now I know there's trouble in the Middle East
I'll spend all my money when I stop the arms race
All my brothers in the desert
Gonna have themselves a feast
When that's done then we'll start on
World Peace

Extreme - When I'm President

It Is An Ex-DVR ...

2010-09-24T11:14:00.005-04:00

Whether you watched Cheers in the 80's ... or Seinfeld in the 90's ... or The Office in the 00's ... everyone's known for decades that Thursday night is "Must See TV" night.

Normally we're an NBC house ... and Thursday night means Community, Parks & Rec, The Office, and 30 Rock ... two hours of solid programming. A few months ago, CBS announced they were moving one of my favorite shows, The Big Bang Theory, to Thursday nights ... but, since we have a dual-tuner DVR, the move was nothing to get worked up over.

In any case ... this week was premiere week. Now, I'll be perfectly honest ... normally, I totally geek out on this time of year. First, I love fall and the changing of the leaves and the crisp, cool air ... but I also love recording all the new fall shows and seeing which ones are good and which ones are crap. But this year, since Mr. ThirtyWhat has been so sick, well ... television has been about our only source of entertainment.

Now, before you pass judgement, allow me a few sentences to explain. One of the many side effects of chemotherapy and radiation is a weakened immune system. We were never "outdoorsy" people by any stretch of the imagination ... but we went to movies, went shopping, and generally left the house. But now, the same common cold that might keep you or I in bed for a day or two will put Mr. ThirtyWhat in the hospital for a week or more. So, other than doctor's visits, he spends most of his time at home. Which brings us back to ... television ...

This year, I was especially geeked for premiere week. I was looking forward to Mike and Molly and the new season of The Mentalist ... I couldn't wait to find out what happened after "the kiss" on Community and I am all over this whole Sister Wives thing on TLC. Hell, I was even willing to give $#*! My Dad Says and Outsourced a try even though they looked like ... well, like $#*!.

And so it goes ... last night, Mr. ThirtyWhat and I are 15 minutes into premiere night ... 15 minutes into Big Bang Theory ... Sheldon, Penny, and Amy Farrah Fowler are on a date ... and just as Sheldon opens his mouth ... the TV screen goes blank. The DVR was dead. Deader than dead. No power ... nothing. Everything else had power ... the television ... the surround sound ... the wii ... everything but the DVR. I unplugged it and plugged it into a different power strip ... nothing. As Monty Python would say, the DVR is no more! It has ceased to be!

I called Comcast and, naturally, they can't do anything over the phone. They verified that our account is fine ... our service was fine ... the hardware had just gone out. Fifteen minutes into premiere night ... the hardware went out. And so, we went upstairs, I took a shower, and watched The Office in bed.

This morning, mysteriously, the DVR is back on. According to the programming, it looks like the power came back on around 8:05 last night ... so everything after eight o'clock recorded as planned. But it doesn't matter ... because I'm done. This is the same DVR that goes "haywire" about once a month and loses all of our favorite channels. I've been fighting with this damned thing for two years ... and it's time to go. Tomorrow morning, I'm unplugging it, driving down to the office, and asking for a replacement.

God, it takes so little to make me happy ... wouldn't you think it could've at least held on until a commercial ...

Baby come back, any kind of fool could see
There was something in everything about you
Baby come back, you can blame it all on me
I was wrong, and I just can't live without you

Player - Baby Come Back

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow ...

2010-09-21T12:34:00.006-04:00

To be positive ... or to be honest ... that ... is the dilemma.

Mr. ThirtyWhat is getting better. So much better, in fact, that he doesn't have to go back to the Oncologist until October 4th. Why, then, am I sitting here at my desk trying not to cry like a baby?

He starts his next round of chemotherapy on October 4th. Yes, we knew this was coming. It isn't anything disastrous and definitely doesn't mean there's anything wrong. The second round of chemo is standard operating procedure with nasopharyngeal cancer ... and having it scheduled is no surprise.

Why do I feel so ... ugh ... I can't even come up with a word. I'm a goddamned walking thesaurus and yet I can't come up with a word. Shattered ... I feel shattered. It makes no sense, I know ... a second round of chemo is normal.

But Mr. ThirtyWhat's been doing so well ... he's bouncing back ... he even ate a hot dog (sans bun) and some corn last night. He's weeks away from a ribeye steak ... but he's making progress. He laughed with me more this weekend than he has in month. I felt the tiniest glimmer of "normal" ... not normal ... but a hazy memory of normal ... like it really could be normal again.

But now ... if I'm calculating right ... his first dose of chemo starts October 4th, then off two weeks later, he'll have a second dose on October 25th ... then the final dose will be on November 15th.

I guess the root of the issue is timing. The first two weeks of November are packed with birthdays in our family ... and that kind of kicks off the holiday season in our house ... leading into Thanksgiving and Christmas. We'd already decided we weren't doing anything for Thanksgiving this year ... but this kind of takes that out of our hands. He'll be sick for Columbus Day and Halloween and all of our birthdays including his own.

Plus there's the whole money thing. The bill for August's radiation treatments just came in and it was over $45,000 ... his last ER visit was over $8,000. We haven't seen the bill yet for his recent hospital stay ... but if they charged $8,000 for five hours worth of care, can you imagine what eight days will come to?

Thankfully, we hit our catastrophic limit back in August so our health insurance will cover 100% of everything until January 1st. But come January 1st, we're back to $20 co-pays and a $300 per person deductible. In the meantime, we're making payments to Springfield Clinic and Memorial ... and a dollar can only stretch so far.

Don't get me wrong ... I'm grateful for everything we have. And I do realize that we're blessed that things aren't worse ... but I'm crushed that he be spending autumn with a chemo pump attached to his port ... and the idea of putting up a Christmas tree amidst all this is more depressing than I can put into words.

He is doing better ... he is getting stronger. Maybe tomorrow will look brighter. Tomorrow will just have to take care of itself ... I'm not sure I can take careful of today.

The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There'll be sun

Annie - Tomorrow

This S#*t Is Bananas ...

2010-09-20T13:52:00.004-04:00

Good news everybody ...

I think Mr. ThirtyWhat is making progress. I should probably wait to post this until tomorrow ... in the off chance we learn something different at the doctor's office. But let's just throw caution to the wind and say ... he's doing a little better.

Last Thursday, the oncologist put him on Levaquin to fight the green phlegm he was coughing up and to try to combat the mystery fever that kept coming and going. Well, by Saturday morning, I'll be honest ... I was worried. I was sure he was going to end up back at Memorial again. Your body simply can't go weeks without eating ... and the wear was starting to show on him.

So we sat down on Saturday morning and had a talk ... I told him we were nearing a point where he was going to be admitted again ... unless we found something he could eat. He'd been thinking the same thing ... and he'd made a list of a handful of things he'd be willing to try ... I suggested a few other things ... and off I went to Shop n Save with a small shopping list in my hand and a barrel full of prayers in my head.

On our first attempt out of the gate ... jackpot. He ate an entire banana for lunch on Saturday. In the interest of full disclosure he still had to take liquid morphine for the pain in his throat first ... and it took him a full 15-20 minutes to eat it ... but he ate an entire banana. This is epic.

Later on, he drank a small glass of apple juice (again ... epic) ... dinner wasn't quite as successful. After having head and neck radiation, he doesn't make enough saliva to eat dry foods ... and we learned that (at this point), chicken thighs aren't remotely moist enough. But that's okay ... I made him a cup of chicken broth to replace the chicken thigh ... and he found it was much, much easier going down.

So, the struggle isn't over ... he meets with the oncologist tomorrow morning and I'm going to ask what happens next, i.e. scans, additional chemotherapy, etc. But I'll take my victories where I can get them ... and this weekend was a banana-flavored victory.

Let me hear you say this shit is bananas
B-A-N-A-N-A-S
This shit is bananas
B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Gwen Stefani - Hollaback Girl

Not Uncommon Is Not Necessarly Fine ...

2010-09-16T14:04:00.004-04:00

I'm angry. As illogical and pointless as it is ... I am angry.

Mr. ThirtyWhat was released from the hospital a little over a week ago on September 7th. He did alright for a few days ... then the fever started creeping back. Now we're nearly back where we started ... at least as far as the fever is concerned.

Each day I get home from work, he's around 99.5 ... but by the time we walk upstairs and relax for bed around eight o'clock, he's around 100.3. If we intervene with Tylenol, we can get it back down in the 99's ... but he still has a low grade fever until he wakes in the morning ... when it vanishes.

Every morning ... no temp. Every afternoon ... low grade temp. Every evening ... temp spikes. You can almost set your watch by it. The doctors are clueless ... his white blood cells are relatively normally and they can't find an infection. They simply can't find a reason for it. But that's not why I'm mad.

We had to go back in to see the doctor today, and he casually announces that Mr. ThirtyWhat's blood count is very low ... he's anemic. But he "thinks" we can avoid a transfusion. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. I mean, had they been considering a transfusion up to that point? What the hell is going on?

Come to find out that his blood count has been steadily dropping since July ... although they apparently didn't find this important enough to share. The doctor says this is "not uncommon" with cancer patients ... and that they assumed they would be re-admitting him to the hospital today. But they think he's doing well enough to stick with giving him fluids in the Infusion Center ... and hopefully, in the next month or two, his blood count will rise on it's own back to a safe level.

I asked if they were going to give Mr. ThirtyWhat medicine to fight off the fatigue, weakness, and dizziness that are by-products of the anemia ... and he says ... no. As long as he isn't out of breath, we're going to let it go and see if it gets better on it's own.

I'm just speechless. I understand this isn't life threatening. I understand it's "not uncommon." But they don't understand that knowledge is what keeps me grounded. It makes me feel safe. It makes me feel, in some very small way, in control. So when the doctor casually remarks, "If you lost this much blood at once, you'd pass out ... but since it's been happening a little each day, your body's adjusted" ... I do not react well.

Crying doesn't help ... yelling doesn't help ... sleeping doesn't help. I don't know if anything helps, at this point. I guess him getting better will help. And today the doctor says we're still another two weeks away from feeling as though we've "turned a corner" with this.

Patience is a virtue, yes?

Said woman take it slow
It'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said sugar make it slow
And we'll come together fine
All we need is just a little patience

Guns n Roses - Patience

Expect the Unexpected ...

2010-08-26T15:48:00.005-04:00

The man who does our yard ... and does an amazing job, by the way ... is retiring after this week. He told me a month or two ago that he'd hurt his shoulder ... but he was valiantly trying to make it through the season so he could schedule surgery over the winter.

Well, I guess the man's in so much pain that he just can't function. He's decided to sell all of his equipment and call it quits. Surgery or no surgery ... he ain't coming back.

So, one more thing for the to-do list ... find a reliable yard man ...

Our property isn't anything fancy ... we just need someone to mow and weed-eat along the fence. Of course, it's late enough in the season, it may only need mowed one more time ... but our guy also came out a couple times in the fall and drove his mower over the leaves to mulch everything up for us. Before you ask, there are just way too many leaves to rake. Raking just isn't an option.

Anyway, if you know anyone you'd recommend for the job, please drop me a line at ThirtyWhat@Comcast.Net.

Forward troubles, Illinois
Lock the front door, oh boy
Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn
Bother me tomorrow, today I'll buy no sorrow
Doo, doo, doo, lookin' out my back door

Creedence Clearwater Revival - Lookin' Out My Back Door

Ugh ... Work Already ...

2010-08-24T16:36:00.005-04:00

When we go to bed at night, Mr. ThirtyWhat is fond of saying, "today was a good day" or "today was a bad day" to describe the general outcome of the day's events ... and I feel like putting on some pajamas, crawling into bed, pulling the covers over my head and whimpering "today was a bad day" ... although I can't really put my finger on one particular cause ...

True, I got a phone call at the ass crack of dawn that I needed to get to the office ASAP because the server was down ... and that seems like a good enough reason for having a bad day ... but that really wasn't so bad. True, one of the raid disks went out and I need to call for a replacement in the morning ... but again, that's really not so bad either.

It's more the feeling of this mountain of small-but-irritating issues that is slowly but surely crushing me. It's a combination of my day-long headache that feels as though a hamster is gnawing at my right optical nerve ... and the two (not one, mind you, but two) computers that I discovered today that have bad video cards ... and the backup system that is wired like some kind of poor man's HAL (I am not kidding here, as it practically asks, "What are you doing, ThirtyWhat" whenever I try to disconnect it) ...

All these things are adding to the feelings of anger and sorrow and grief and frustration ... with no outlet for any of them.

I suppose the positive spin on this is that not one single person is part of all this morass of emotional garbage ... and that's amazing. Not one person made me angry today. Not one person frustrated me or hurt my feelings or pissed me off. It's all mechanical or situational ... and that's a very good thing. Because I have no desire to take any of this out on a fellow human being.

Computers, however? One of their mechanical bretheren may go flying through a window at any moment ...

Go ahead
Run away
Say it was horrible
Spread the word
Tell a friend
Tell them the tale

Get a pic
Do a blog
Heroes are over with
Look at him
Not a word
Hammer meet nail

Dr. Horrible - Slipping

Shrimp Is The New Steak ...

2010-08-23T13:12:00.004-04:00

After a relatively stress free weekend, Monday has not been as successful.

Last Friday, I had a tooth pulled ... the last molar on the lower left side ... and other than nearly going into shock over having the damned thing pulled ... it hasn't been too bad. The pain medicine helps ... and the Novocain didn't wear off for hours ... so that part wasn't too bad.

And ... other than extreme fatigue, Mr. ThirtyWhat was doing alright. He ate relatively well this weekend ... I mean, not fantastic by any means, but considering he was finishing up week five of radiation on his head and throat, he was pretty much kicking ass and taking names.

But ... then we woke up this morning. We found out he's lost close to ten pounds in this last week. On top of that, he had a rough patch of nausea this morning. Even with the anti-nausea medication, he just couldn't keep any breakfast down.

In other news, the skin on his neck is beginning to burn. There are tiny blisters on the skin ... and we're keeping cream on it to help with the burning and keep it from peeling ... but I suspect it isn't doing anything for the pain.

What have we learned from all of this? He's going to need to take the anti-nausea medicine much earlier in the morning. The smell and taste of food is too much so we're going to have to catch the stomach issues before they start.

Also, if you know of anyone who is going through head and neck cancer, I have one word for you ... shrimp. After the second week of radiation, beef of any kind became inedible to Mr. ThirtyWhat. He said it tasted rancid. By the end of the third week, we'd also eliminated pork and potatoes as his tastes continued to change. By the end of week four, baked chicken was out ... not necessarily because of the taste but because of the texture. So what has that left us?

Shrimp. Shrimp is the one solid food that he still can eat at the start of week six. Well, let me back that up ... he can also eat "Easy Mac" macaroni and cheese ... but I have to add so much water to it that it's more soup than solid.

He also drinks Ensure (which he prefers to Boost, by the way) and will begrudgingly drink milkshakes when I push them at him ... but shrimp is the only solid food that still works. Not fried, mind you ... I'm talking about peel and eat ... "shrimp cocktail" kind of shrimp ... without the cocktail.

So, up until this point, he's been having two eggs and a bottle of Ensure for breakfast, cream of chicken soup for lunch ... and "Easy Mac" with 8-10 shrimp for dinner. After losing nearly ten pounds this week, we're going to have to make adjustments. Whether it's more milkshakes ... more shrimp ... more Ensure ... I don't know. But we'll be adding something.

What do they got? A lot of sand?
We got a hot crustacean band
Each little clam here
know how to jam here
Under the sea

The Little Mermaid - Under the Sea

A Weekend of Panic ...

2010-08-16T15:30:00.005-04:00

I'm almost too tired to write ... far too tired to think ... so this may or may not make sense. Please bear with me.

This weekend was not as much a "weekend" as it was a medical marathon. Saturday morning, Mr. ThirtyWhat woke up with a knot by his jaw under his left ear. I called the telenurse who paged the doctor who said Mr. ThirtyWhat would be fine unless a) it grew bigger, b) it became painful, or c) he developed a fever. And so I took his temperature every hour on the hour ... and, aside from the worry and anxiety, the day carried on as usual.

But by Sunday morning, Mr. ThirtyWhat woke me up to an alarming sight ... the knot had grown two to three times in size and was terribly, terribly painful. He'd take three Vicodin over the course of the night and he STILL couldn't sleep.

We called the nurse back and spoke to the oncologist on call ... who suggested we go to the emergency room as soon as possible. By 9:30 a.m., we were in a room at Memorial's ER and had began the long process of blood work, more blood work, x-rays, CT scans, and more blood work.

I'm not gonna lie ... it made my heart stop. I was relatively certain the cancer hadn't spread. I mean, cancer doesn't grow that fast. If you wake up one morning with a marble sized lump and it morphs into a goose egg in 24 hours ... it may be one of a hundred terrible things ... but a new tumor probably isn't one of them. I didn't know if something was bleeding or if the radiation burns had gotten infected ... your mind gets away from you, you know?

But after many hours and many doctors ... they think he has an infected salivary gland. Once a salivary gland gets swollen, it blocks the ducts and the inflammation can very quickly get out of control. And that's where we're at. Not deadly or dangerous or life threatening ... just extremely scarey.

Baby steps ... just keep taking baby steps ...

We're running with the Shadows of the Night
So baby take my hand, you'll be all right
Surrender all your dreams to me tonight
They'll come true in the end

Pat Benatar - Shadows of the Night

I Could Not Ask For More ...

2010-08-11T12:05:00.007-04:00

I wish I had the words ...

This thing with Mr. ThirtyWhat ... it's life changing. I have no doubt in my mind that he'll beat it and someday we'll look back on all of this with pride when he's a cancer survivor ... but for now, it feels so ... big.

I have no earthly idea how we would do this ... if not for our three daughters. I read in an article that cancer tends to do one of two things. It either tears a family apart ... or brings it together. And in the case of the girls, there's no way I'll ever be able to repay them.

Sadly, the co-worker that I wrote about earlier passed away. So I've inherited a new job ... twice the responsibility with the same pay ... not much of a bargain, I know ... but my time is at a premium right now.

But from the moment we got the news, in the midst of all this chaos, the girls came through. They've taken turns ... taking Mr. ThirtyWhat to radiation appointments ... to chemotherapy appointments ... to dentist appointments ... they've bought him Insure ... made him smoothies ... played games with him during the long hours of chemotherapy ... ran errands ... they've done more than I can begin to list.

And so when I have moments like today ... when I have to call a plumber because the downstairs bathroom needs a new wax seal and call the dentist because I have an aching tooth and pick up replacement bulbs for the security lights and fix the shower head upstairs that's leaking like a sieve ... when all of this overwhelms me, I remember how blessed I am. My load isn't so heavy ... all because the three adorable little girls I met at Mario's Pizza 15 years ago ... have grown up to be three spectacular women.

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why
I got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window
And I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be grey
but your picture's on my wall
It reminds me that it's not so bad
It's not so bad

Dido - Thank You

Across The Universe ...

2010-08-05T15:43:00.004-04:00

There's a funny connection between ourselves and the universe. I feel it some days more than others ... and in some situations more than others. For example ... in the last 7-14 days, I've found that there is a direct connection between my desire to go home ... and my corresponding workload.

It happens every time ... whether I merely think it or speak it out loud ... when I make a conscious decision to use my leave and go home early, I will inevitably be asked to attend a meeting or fix a computer issue. I can think to myself, "I don't have a lot going on at this moment, I could go home at 2:00 and get some sleep ..." and just like that ... someone will walk over and tell me a printer stopped working.

Similarly, I've found that the level of effort needed to fix these issues is in direct opposition proportionally to my need to unwind. If I "offhandedly" think about going home ... then someone will need me to take a look at a spreadsheet. If, however, I think that I won't be able to function if I can't just lay my head down ... then the universe will require me to upgrade an entire system.

Strange symbiotic relationship ... or paranoia based on sleep deprivation?

Perhaps a little bit of both ...

I'm just an average man
With an average life
I work from nine to five
Hey, hell, I pay the price
All I want is to be left alone
In my average home
But why do I always feel
Like I'm in the twilight zone

Rockwell - Somebody's Watching Me

A Quick Read ...

2010-08-04T14:04:00.005-04:00

Mr. ThirtyWhat and I used to watch Bill Maher's Real Time religiously ... (that's a bit of a joke ... anyone who knows Bill Maher will get it) ...

Anyhow ... Real Time used to have Christopher Hitchens on as a guest now and then and I couldn't stand the guy. I thought he was a self important douche ... terribly rude ... someone who thought far more of himself than you could ever think of him ...

But earlier this year, Christopher Hitchens was diagnosed with esophageal cancer ... and he has written an article in Vanity Fairy about his experiences entitled The Topic of Cancer ...

I haven't seen him in an interview lately ... so Mr. Hitchens may still be an insufferable ass ... but if you have a moment, read the link above. He's an incredibly intelligent, gifted writer ... and the article touches on many of the same experiences we're going through.

Teach your parents well
Their children’s hell
Will slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they pick's
The one you’ll know by
Don’t you ever ask them why
If they told you, you would cry
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young - Teach Your Children

Where Soft Foods Reign King ...

2010-08-04T10:52:00.005-04:00

Well, as of this morning, Mr. ThirtyWhat has lost another three pounds. That, in itself wouldn't be scary ... but I see the changes. We've gone from him snacking off and on all day and eating a full dinner dinner ... even though he might not be able to taste it all ... to him eating next to nothing.

I made hamburgers and rice for dinner last night ... but he simply couldn't swallow the hamburger. He did make a valiant effort to eat some rice ... but that isn't nearly enough nutrition. Then this morning, I scrambled two eggs for him ... and when I left, he'd barely finished one.

This morning, the nutritionist told him we're at a point where we have to start concentrating on soft foods ... mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, smoothies, etc. Plus, I'll need to stop after work and pick up some Ensure or Boost ... because even if he ate a pound of mashed potatoes ... that still wouldn't give him enough protein or vitamins or minerals.

It's too early to feel disheartened ... but I do. He hurts so much ... we can't really laugh like we used to. Before when he was down, I could always get him laughing and pull him out of it ... but now there's just so much more. The fatigue is hard on him ... I just can't imagine what his body is going through. I just remind myself when I'm tired and down and my kidneys are hurting ... that what he's going through has to be ten times worse ... or a hundred times worse ... or a thousand ...

Once you choose hope ... anything is possible. And I do choose hope ... each and every day. I believe he'll beat this ... I believe we'll get through it ...

Now Andy, did you hear about this one?
Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Andy, are you goofing on Elvis?
Hey baby, are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon
Man on the moon
If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve
Then nothing is cool

REM - Man On The Moon

Beginning Week Three ...

2010-08-03T16:31:00.003-04:00

It's been a month since I've written ... primarily because most days I'm overwhelmed. Some days ... quite a few days, if I'm being honest ... overwhelmed doesn't begin to describe it.

Mr. ThirtyWhat is in his third week of treatment ... radiation every day ... chemotherapy once every three weeks. I've learned more about these topics than I ever imagined I'd know ... but the main thing I've learned is this ...

If someone tells you that their husband or wife or parent or loved one is having radiation or chemotherapy treatments ... there is a world of unspoken experiences behind that statement.

They have already walked a hundred miles in their journey by the time they tell you they're in treatment. They've already had dozens of tests ... several scans ... hundreds of blood draws ... consults with numerous doctors ... sometimes even multiple surgeries ... just to get them to the point that they can say, "I'm in treatment."

It's overwhelming and it's everything I can do not to sit down and cry ... but we're not even halfway in this journey ... and there's too far to go and to much to do to sit and cry now.

It will be mid-September before he's done with this round of radiation and chemotherapy. Then in late October to early November, they will begin another round of chemotherapy, assuming he's strong enough to take it.

I worry whether he'll be strong enough ... I worry how I'll get the time out of the office that I'll need to get him to all these appointments ... I worry how we'll pay for all this ...

But I'm having to offer all this worry up to a higher power because I can't sustain it ... I don't know how anyone could.

For now, he's doing alright. He's developing radiation burns on his mouth and throat ... he's lost all sense of taste ... and he's lost a few pounds. We're starting our third week and supposedly we're right on track. Of course, if we're right on track, they say the last couple weeks are like torture ...

How will we ever do this ...

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

The Beatles - Blackbird

Angels Among Us ...

2010-07-05T16:42:00.005-04:00

There really are angels in this world. They may look like everyday, ordinary people ... but they are angels ... going out of their way to make someones world a better place.

We found out last week that Mr. ThirtyWhat couldn't start radiation until he had a full dental checkup. Apparently, people with head and neck cancer have to be extraordinarily careful with their teeth. Radiation weakens the jaw bone so it's simply too dangerous to have teeth pulled once you've started the therapy.

So he had his exam last week and Dr. Adonis told us that three wisdom teeth and one other molar had to come out. We were referred to Dr. Williams and had our first consultation with him this afternoon. He agreed with Dr. Adonis and sent us to their billing and scheduling department to set everything up.

We were worried ... because Dr. Gupta, the oncologist, and Dr. Nanavati, the radiologist wanted to start chemo and radiation on Monday, July 12th ... and right off the bat, we were told that summer is the busiest season for oral surgeons. Everyone wants to schedule their kid's wisdom teeth during summer break ... so they weren't sure how soon we could get in.

And in stepped our angel. Allie, at Dr. William's office, went in back, looked at the schedule, consulted with Dr. Williams, and arranged for Mr. ThirtyWhat to have an emergency appointment tomorrow afternoon.

I can't express what Allie did for us. Because of her kindness, Mr. ThirtyWhat can begin his chemo and radiation on time. Because of her patience and concern, we can start fighting the cancer this week instead of waiting weeks. I can't begin to repay her ... but I'm going to send a thank you note and try to let her know how much her intervention meant to me.

And so tomorrow Mr. ThirtyWhat will have four teeth pulled ... later this week they'll install a port in his chest to assist with the chemo and help get extra fluids into his system ... and before close of business Friday, they'll map out the radiation therapy so he can begin treatment on Monday.

It will be a busy week ... and thank heavens for our daughters. They have been taking turns driving him to appointments so I don't have to miss quite so much work. And just like Allie, I can't begin to repay them either.

So in the midst of all this sadness and stress, I can appreciate that we're blessed. And we will get through this ... and be stronger in the end.

Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence

Alanis Morissette - Thank You

It's Been a Long Day ... In a Series of Long Days ...

2010-06-29T17:11:00.004-04:00

Okay, I like to believe I'm a pillar of strength ... but this is ridiculous. Along with everything else, I was notified this morning that I have to work late tonight.

It's okay ... I can handle the responsibility. I can handle it with the greatest of class and aplomb. But at the end of this day, I am going to need the hottest shower ever taken by a human being. Oh, and some cheesy breadsticks ...

Reach down your hand in your pocket
Pull out some hope for me
It's been a long day, always ain't that right
And no Lord your hand won't stop it
Just keep you trembling
It's been a long day, always ain't that right

Matchbox 20 - Long Day

Write It Down ...

2010-06-28T15:04:00.005-04:00

Every once in awhile, a temporary situation comes up that gives us a clear picture of the flaws in a system. A picture that shows us what we can fix ... before something permanent happens.

Some people are more private than others. Look around your office or work place and you'll see the two extremes. You'll have one employee who brings in her pap smear results to discuss how healthy her ladybits are ... and then you'll have another employee who is probably Batman in his off hours ... because as soon as he walks out that door at five o'clock, he becomes a foggy mist ... a vague memory of someone you saw at the vending machine.

I'm not here to judge anyone ... and if you're one of those private people, please don't take offense. But there's a limit to how much you can keep to yourself ... please ... share the names of your family members ... write down information like doctor's names and hospital preferences. If you don't want to share these things with the world, then write them down and have them stored in your personnel file.

My point in all this ... if a hospital calls your office and says they need to notify your family ... don't make your co-workers look up your mother's obituary online so they can learn the names of your siblings. We're in a situation now where we need login information and passwords for systems we can't update ... there are installs scheduled with vendors and we have no idea who is coming and when they're going to show up ... there's a world of information out there stored in one person ... and that one person is in no condition to educate us.

We could be a lot worse off than we are ... but we have a lot of backtracking to do ... a lot of threads we need to follow ...

Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Do me a favor,
Open the door and let 'em in

Paul McCartney - Let 'Em In

Holding Up The Fort ...

2010-06-28T11:58:00.004-04:00

And the hits just keep on coming. My co-worker/teammate was out in Boise doing a remote install last week ... and on Friday he was hospitalized and rushed into surgery. He's in ICU on a ventilator ... sedated so his body can try to recover from septic shock. He's listed in critical condition ... but he's improving. The doctors are saying we should be "cautiously optimistic."

Meanwhile, on the home front ... a needle biopsy of Mr. ThirtyWhat's lymph node is scheduled for Wednesday, a dental exam for Thursday, and a meeting with the oncologist on Friday. Thank God for our girls ... if it weren't for them helping out and driving their Dad to some of his appointments, I'm not sure what we'd do. With my co-worker out, I'm the only IT support in my office. Taking off an hour here or an hour there isn't too much of a problem ... but big chunks of time would be next to impossible.

We rearranged our bedroom this weekend so Mr. ThirtyWhat would have more space on his side of the bed. It's a nice change ... in fact, I wish I was napping in our big ol' bed right now. But I suspect that's more a product of fatigue than feng shui.

Why Don't They
Do what they say, say what they mean
Oh baby, one thing leads to another
You told me something wrong
I know I listen too long
But then one thing leads to another

The Fixx - One Thing Leads To Another

What Passes For Good News These Days ...

2010-06-25T09:11:00.005-04:00

You know you're through the looking glass when you get bad news ... but it feels like good news.

The bad news is that the PET scan indicates cancer in one lymph node. It's in Mr. ThirtyWhat's neck ... on the opposite side of the tumor. They're scheduling a needle biopsy next week just to be sure ... then they'll decide on a course of treatment.

So you're asking yourself, how can that possibly be good news? If the biopsy comes back negative, then he's Stage I. But, in a worse case scenario, if the biopsy comes back positive, then he's still only Stage II.

Stage II is scary ... but you have to keep in mind that I went into the appointment terrified the PET scan would show a second location. I knew he wasn't coughing or wheezing ... but I was afraid they would've found cancer in his prostrate or blood. I've never been so scared in my life.

So ... maybe one lymph node ... we can still fight this. Dr. Nanavati says this is a very treatable cancer. He says 7 out of 10 of these types of cancers are curable ... and those are good odds.

The next step is getting that lymph node biopsied ... and then getting Mr. ThirtyWhat in to see our dentist. Before they begin radiation on anyone with head and neck cancer, you must have a full dental exam to make sure your teeth are in good shape. If there are issues, any teeth that need pulled must be pulled before they can start radiation.

We've got a plan of action ... and we'll keep moving forward ... and that's our good news for today.

Nobody robbed a liquor store on the lower part of town
Nobody OD'ed, nobody burned a single buildin' down
Nobody fired a shot in anger, nobody had to die in vain
We sure could use a little good news today

Anne Murray - A Little Good News

Tick Tock ...

2010-06-24T09:51:00.004-04:00

Today is the day ... I hope.

Mr. ThirtyWhat is having his PET scan even as I type. Our daughter is texting me updates ... he's been injected with the chemical, he'll sit for 60 minutes while his body absorbs it, then it will take around 30 minutes to take the necessary scans.

He's nervous ... she's nervous ... I'm nervous ... our daughter at home is nervous ... we're just one big ball of nerves. But we meet with the radiologist today at 2 p.m. to get the results and discuss his treatment options.

I have a co-worker whose husband is battling cancer and she's been helping me ... answering questions ... letting me know what to expect. She says the radiologist will sit with us and tell us all our treatment options ... then tell us what he recommends. You know what? At this point, I want him to just tell us what to do. I don't want to make any decisions. We'll do whatever it takes to cure this.

Four hours until the appointment ... this will be the longest four hours of my life ...

Don't put your head on my shoulder
Sink me in a river of tears
This could be the best place yet
But you must overcome your fears

Culture Club - Time

So Won't You Smile For the Camera ...

2010-06-23T12:24:00.006-04:00

I thought I'd try doing something a little creative ... hopefully to get my mind off everything for a minute or two. The Daily Meme is featuring Sepia Scenes, a blog highlighting photos either taken originally in sepia tone or adjusted in a photo-editing software.

These two photos were part of a large group I took back in August, 2001. The color shots were used in some of our promotional materials but I adjusted them in PaintShop to participate in today's meme.

Main Gate, Illinois State Fair - 2001

Main Street, Illinois State Fair - 2001
If you have a minute, click over and check out Sepia Scenes ... what they have posted puts anything I've taken to shame.

Oh, won't you please, please
Take another picture
Please, please freeze my features
Oh, won't you please, please
Take another
I don't wanna fade away

Quarterflash - Take Another Picture

As Someone Told Me Lately ...

2010-06-23T09:52:00.005-04:00

Well Monday was ... for lack of a better word ... a bust. All that waiting ... just to learn next to nothing.

We know that Mr. ThirtyWhat has carcinoma of the nasopharnyx (which the ENT specialist had already told us) ... we know that it's an "unusual" cancer (which we already read through research) ... we know that he'll need both radiation and chemotherapy (which, again, the ENT told us) ... so I felt like we came away with nothing.

I had convinced myself that there would be this big scene where we'd both break down and sob when he talked to us ... but that didn't happen, primarily because we didn't hear anything new. I'd squirreled away wads of tissue paper in my purse ... which are still crammed in there ... waiting for my inevitable breakdown.

Mr. ThirtyWhat felt relieved because they didn't grab him, throw him on a gurney, and admit him to the hospital on sight. Which, I'll admit is good news. But since I never expected them to do that, it's not much comfort to me.

What does comfort me is that they're very aggressive about treating him. He's got an MRI scheduled for later this morning ... a PET scan scheduled for Thursday morning ... and Thursday afternoon we meet with the radiologist for, what I assume, will be the "big news" ... i.e. stages, prognosis, etc.

I'm scared about a thousand things ... how bad this is ... how sick he'll get ... how we'll ever pay for all this ... but we'll get through it. I know there aren't any guarantees in life ... but right now my only goal is to get him healthy so we'll grow old together. I want to lay in bed and listen to the Cure (ironic name, eh?) ... but that wouldn't accomplish anything. So I'm up ... working ... getting things done ... and listening to Wicked. It'll take some time ... and it'll be rough ... but I have faith.

I'm through accepting limits
'Cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try, I'll never know!
Too long I've been afraid of
Losing love I guess I've lost
Well, if that's love
It comes at much too high a cost!
I'd sooner buy
Defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye
I'm defying gravity
And you can't pull me down

Wicked - Defying Gravity

I'll Think About That Tomorrow ...

2010-06-18T13:08:00.007-04:00

I've been re-reading Gone With The Wind ... a book that I absolutely adored as a young girl. I must've read it a dozen times in grade school. Between you and me and the LCD monitor you're looking at, when I read it way back then, I always imagined I had so much in common with Scarlet O'Hara. Sure, in retrospect, she's probably not a role model that any young woman should aspire to ... but if I'm being truthful, I wanted nothing more than to be (a slightly smarter) modern-day Scarlet.

But the years roll by ... it's probably been twenty years since the last time I picked it up. I mean, it was one of my favorites ... but common, the damned thing is over 1,000 pages! And reading it now ... wow. I'm almost ashamed to be seen reading it at all.

The racism in Gone With The Wind is mind numbing ... simply abysmal. I could give you examples that would curl your hair ... but, quite frankly, I'd be too ashamed to re-type any of them here. Sure, you have to put it in the context of the time it was written ... but even so, it was published in 1936 not 1836.

I also understand that most of it is written from the viewpoint of a Georgian plantation-owners daughter but it still requires you to believe the myth that all slaves were considered members of the family and well taken care of. We are told time and time again that they're a child-like race of people who were lost after the war and wanted nothing more than to loyally serve their masters until they died.

That's a lot to swallow ... and makes me wonder what my 12 year old self must've thought when I read this all those years ago. Honestly, I don't remember ever having a thought about anything other than desperately wanting a hoop skirt and a green flowered muslin dress and matching morocco slippers. See, I warned you I was like her, didn't I?

In any case ... years have gone by and I'm simply not the person I was years ago. I'm reading Gone with the Wind now ... at this point in my life ... and my number one question is ...

Why the hell are all these women fainting all the damned time?
I mean, now a days women don't go around fainting every time they get bad news ... or good news ... or walk up a flight of stairs. It's ridiculous! Was there a dangerous lack of oxygen in the atmosphere during the 1860's? Even Scarlet O'Hara, who is supposed to be the brave, fearless heroine of this book is always wishing she had smelling salts on her. Do they even sell smelling salts anymore?

All I know is that I've had a lot of bad news lately ... and according to the world of Gone With The Wind, I should've fainted at least a half dozen times in the last month. Somebody owes me some fainting, damnit ... and the next time I get bad news, I'm going teats up ...

And speaking of all that ... it's Friday. Three more days until our Monday appointment with the oncologist. We're supposed to get Mr. ThirtyWhat in the office 20 minutes early so he can fill out paperwork. It seems like such a long road we're on. But, hey ... if Scarlet O'Hara can fight the Yankees ... surely we can do just as well against all this, right?

Well I dig you Georgia peaches
Makes me feel right at home
Well now I dig you Georgia peaches
Makes me feel right at home
But I don't love me no one woman
So I can't stay in Georgia long

Lynyrd Skynyrd - Call Me The Breeze

The Waiting Is The Hardest Part ...

2010-06-17T12:08:00.004-04:00

They tell me "God never gives us more than we can handle." At this moment, all I can think is, "God really shouldn't be putting this much trust in me ..."

It's as though we're standing at the foot of a mountain ... and it doesn't look as if there's any way we'll ever be able to get over it. And I know ... I know that's why we should take one day at a time. I know we should just deal with today and let tomorrow take care of itself. But it's overwhelmed me to the point where I can't function.

Mr. ThirtyWhat's frustrated and angry ... and understandably so. He's just going through the stages and he not only deserves to feel the way he feels ... but he deserves to be able to get those feelings out. But we're both on edge ... and we've argued the last two nights. I'm going to have to learn to let things go ... arguing isn't accomplishing anything.

I'm just so tired ... my brain is filled with white noise and I can't get anything done. I just want to lay down and sleep for a couple days ... but that's not an option ... there's too much to do. Four more days till Monday ... we can get through this ...

There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret
Or life is yours to miss
No other road
No other way
No day but today

Rent - No Day But Today

Once You Choose Hope ...

2010-06-16T11:47:00.008-04:00

There are certain words we fear ... words you pray you never hear ... words like cancer and chemo ... words like radiation and prognosis ...

On Monday, Mr. ThirtyWhat was diagnosed with cancer. To be exact, it's "squamous cell carcinoma of the nasopharnyx" ... which, unless you're a cancer specialist, probably means about as little to you as it does to me.

Is this catastrophic? Is it just a bump in the road? I don't know. Our first appointment with the oncologist is scheduled for Monday, June 21st ... and after that there will be PET scans and tests ... all to determine how advanced this is.

We'll stay positive ... in fact, there's no other option except to be positive. I've been upbeat up to this point ... and it wasn't until she spoke the words that I even believed this was possible.

And so here I sit ... it's Wednesday ... and I'm still hoping ... still thinking positive thoughts ... thinking that we'll go in on Monday and he'll say it's in the earliest stages and after chemo and radiation we'll move on. I'm in shock ... and, quite honestly, it's hard to think or talk or write. And Monday feels like years away ...

Once You Choose Hope, Anything's Possible
-Christopher Reeve

Lost: Take What You Need ... Leave the Rest ...

2010-05-24T14:06:00.007-04:00

"Dude, in retrospect, shouldn't this
have been your first clue?"
My first thought after watching the Lost finale was ... this is like a bad magician doing slight of hand.

"Look at ... THIS ... don't look over there ... no no ...
look at this hand ... look at this hand ... nothing to see over there ..."
If you're looking at the hand they want you to look at, then the finale was stunning. A home run. It was touching and emotional and the kind of happy ending that everyone wishes they could have. Every couple was reunited. Everyone got what they always wanted be it love or luck ... health or happiness ...

But unfortunately there is that other hand ... and, let's be honest, that other hand is pretty full ...

In that other hand is the island and Jacob and the Man in Black. There's Hanso and Darhma and bunkers. There are the numbers and the statues and the hieroglyphics. That hand is full of all sorts of nagging questions and facts. It's as though we finished the world's largest jigsaw puzzle ... and, although the end result is breathtakingly beautiful, we still have half a box full of pieces that didn't fit anywhere.

If you went into the finale expecting an answer to every question that Lost posed, then you were destined for disappointment. That was never the nature of Lost. C.J. Cregg tried to warn us, "Every question I answer will simply lead to another question."

So having said that, I went into last night's episode with very low expectations when it came to the number of hard and fast answers we'd receive. Even so, 150 minutes later, we only had one solid answer ... the nature of the "side universe." We now know that, over time, each survivor died. "Everyone dies some time, kiddo," as Christian Sheppard would say. So the side universe was a sort of limbo ... a dimension of waiting where each soul slowly realized it's place. And, as the veil was lifted, they began gathering other souls to enter the light together.

It was beautiful ... and touching. Very emotional for me ... as I watched it and wondered if my Dad were somewhere ... living in a dimension where he drives his truck and lives out a life waiting for his family to join him. For me, the "Man of Faith" side of Lost is complete. A perfect circle that offers a very peaceful ending ... even for some very, very troubled souls like Benjamin Linus.

But ... what of the "Man of Science"? Well, that side is lacking quite a bit. So Jacob drew Oceanic 815 to the island so certain passengers could be candidates? So does that mean the other passengers were just collateral damage? Needless yet necessary deaths so that the handful of chosen people would be available to him? And the numbers ... the numbers, come to find out, were the numbers assigned to the candidates. But was that worthy of the back story of Hurley and the lottery numbers? Of the transmission of the numbers from the island? What of Walt and his "special powers?" What of Aaron? Wasn't he supposed to save the world at some point?

I expect the answer we'll be told over and over in the days to come will be ... those things don't matter. The things that matter are people and connections and relationships. Look at this hand ... look at this hand ...

And yes, as a life philosophy, that's great. But doesn't it feel just a bit too much like an easy out for an amazing story ... and it's writers who wrote themselves further and further into a hole?

In the end, I enjoyed it. I teared up ... and I can honestly say I think they offered the best ending possible for a story like Lost. I think Desmond should play us out ... because you know what he would say ...

"See you in another life, brutha ..."
This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes ... again

The Doors - The End

Less Curiouser Than Previously Expected ...

2010-03-07T19:37:00.005-04:00

I wanted to love it. I really, really did. But Tim Burton's newest creation, Alice in Wonderland, is such a disappointment. The problem is the story itself ... I'm not sure what he was thinking. Alice in Wonderland is a rich, lush story with more than enough content to fill a 109 minute movie. So why ignore all of that and create a sub-par story of your own? It's called fan fiction, Tim ... and I can read it for free instead of paying $15 for two Sunday matinee tickets.

For me, the experience of watching Alice in Wonderland was like collecting bubblegum cards ... individual characters were stunning ... but when strung together, they don't make a fluid, cogent story. Johnny Depp as Mad Hatter? Visually breathtaking ... but honestly? He's called mad hatter for a reason. Unless someone has been slipping Prozak into his tea in the years since Alice's first visit, he wasn't remotely mad enough.

Meanwhile, Helena Bonham Carter as The Queen of Hearts wasn't nearly evil enough. Allow me to make a comparison ... do you remember the original Disney animated Alice in Wonderland? It gave me nightmares ... nightmares so bad, I didn't watch the complete movie until I was well into my 30's. Between the animated queen screaming, "Off with their heads!" and that damned Cheshire Cat fading in and out ... shudder. So you would think a live-action version of that movie would send me into an apoplectic fit, wouldn't you? Nope ... not even remotely close.

So sad ... I expected so much more. It's beautiful ... but beauty really is only skin deep ... and that's not nearly enough to carry this movie.

And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you're going to fall
Tell them a hookah smoking caterpillar has given you the call
Call Alice
When she was just small

Jefferson Airplane - Go Ask Alice

Inaccurate and Entertaining ...

2010-03-02T11:17:00.004-04:00

So, I'm reading that some members of the military are upset that "The Hurt Locker" is nominated for nine Oscars ... primarily because it's so inaccurate.

I'm not a soldier, nor do I play one on television. However, my father served in two branches of the military ... joining the Marines after high school, serving two tours in Vietnam, and several years later returning to service and eventually retiring from the Army. My father passed away in 2005, so I can't ask him his opinion on The Hurt Locker, but that's alright ... because I know what his opinion would be. Let me tell you a story ...

Years ago, when ThirtyWhat was just a teenager, I watched a movie with my dad. It's been twenty-five years and I have no idea what the movie was called ... but it was about two pilots that receive orders to drop a nuclear bomb on Russia. They have been given strict orders to maintain radio silence and ignore any future commands. They believe the world is at nuclear war and they have been given what is essentially a "last command."

But the thing is, it was a false report. There aren't any bombs going off ... the only bomb about to drop is theirs and if they DO drop it then it WILL spark a war. Over the course of the movie, HQ keeps sending them messages to abort; however, they are ignoring these messages. They were warned that false messages could be sent, therefore they were to keep radio silence and drop that bomb no matter what.

So the entire movie is based on the tension of wondering if the pilots will follow the original orders ... or will they disobey orders and believe that this is all a mistake. Again, I have no idea what the name of the movie is ... or if there were any other subplots. But what I do remember is the terrible argument my father and I had when the movie ended.

Spoiler alert ... the movie ends when they decide to believe the messages and turn back without dropping the bomb.

The entire movie, I'm yelling at the television, "BELIEVE THE NEW ORDERS ... TURN BACK!" All the while, my father confidently sat there and said, "Oh no ... they'll drop it. A soldier always follows orders, period." So when they saved the world by disobeying the radio silence order, my father was livid.

I was dumbfounded ... they saved the world ... and all my father could do was lecture me that they were wrong to do it. The debate went on for hours. Soldiers obey orders 100% ... if you don't obey orders, then people die ... you do not question orders. I couldn't make him see the irony in his argument ... that in this particular movie, following orders would've caused the death of millions of people. It didn't matter ... my father was a jarhead at heart until the day he died and the bottom line was you never disobeyed a direct order.

And so I know what my father would've thought about The Hurt Locker. Quite frankly, I doubt he would've even finished it. As I watched it, I could hear my father's voice in my head ... when the lead character throws away his headset, I could hear him barking that a soldier never breaks communication with his team. Over and over I saw situations that weren't just inaccurate, they were laughable.

But here's the thing ... The Hurt Locker isn't a documentary. It isn't intended to be. I understand that it's upsetting to see situations that don't necessarily mirror the reality of war ... but let's be reasonable. Did anyone watch Apocalypse Now and believe it was a real-life Vietnam experience? Did you watch Operation Petticoat and believe there was a pink submarine floating around out there?

Movies are movies, folks ... unless you're tuned to PBS and the director is Ken Burns, you have to take these things with a grain of salt ... sometimes a large grain of salt. A movie can be inaccurate and entertaining ... and Hurt Locker is proof of that.

His medal of honor pleased and thrilled
his proud little family group
While pinning it on some blood was spilled
And so it was planned he'd command F Troop

F Troop - Theme

NyQuil ... Our Dear, Dear Friend ...

2010-02-26T17:29:00.003-04:00

Why have I not written? Because I've been down with some God-forsaken head cold from hell that is circulating through my office like black death. Now, Heaven knows I don't have the strongest immune system in the world ... but 1/2 the office has had this at one point or another in the last few weeks ... and I guess it's just my turn. My boss thinks he has pneumonia ...

... and I'm going back to bed. Later gators ...

I'm down (I'm really down)
I'm down (Down on the ground)
I'm down (I'm really down)
How can you laugh
When you know I'm down
How can you laugh
When you know I'm down

Beatles - I'm Down

Why My Husband Rocks ...

2010-02-17T14:22:00.003-04:00

Have you noticed that right around Valentine's Day, everyone starts bragging about how wonderful their spouse is. I know women who come up with these outlandish stories about the hoops their mates have jumped through to give them the most perfect day ever ... from waking up to champagne and caviar ... to going to sleep as Zamphire plays his magical pan flute next to their canopied love nest.

Well, I call bullshit.

These same people can be found the other 364 days of the year bitching about how their husband doesn't take them out on dates or won't put his socks in the hamper or drinks too much or won't take out the trash. And yet I'm to believe during one 24 hour period, this imperfect bastard transforms into Jesus of Nazareth, turning cheez whiz into brie?

Whatever ... all I'm saying is that you don't have to say your loved one flew you to the south of France just to prove what a great person he or she is. They didn't fly you to the south of France ... you know it ... and I know it. Hell, you don't even have a passport. Just say he bought you a pizza and you loved it ... that I'll believe.

Lemme tell you what my spouse did for me. Along with two very sweet cards and a box of delicious chocolate and a wonderful lunch ... he bought me a one year subscription to Coast to Coast AM. I absolutely love listening to all the conspiracy freaks out there talking about mafia secrets and secret societies and hidden bible messages. I can do without the whole bigfoot/ufo thing ... but mind control and one world order? Sign me up!

My Valentine gave me the gift of 12 months of the hidden brain and electronic harassment and ghost hunting. What can I say? He knows me! And he's the best hubby you could find anywhere ... I love you, sweetie!

Debbie Gibson is pregnant
With my two headed love child
It's a bigfoot baby
All covered in fur now
Stark raving naked in the fornication nation

Mojo Nixon - Debbie Gibson Is Pregnant
With My Two-Headed Love Child

Monday's Frustration On Tuesday ...

2010-02-16T15:47:00.005-04:00

To Whom It May Concern ...

Just a heads up. I am unable to accomplish anything when I am constantly interrupted. I swear it is like there is some kind of conspiracy today to make sure that I am unable to have 5 uninterrupted minutes to myself.

And while we're clearing the air ...

When I answer a question, take my word for it ... it's the best answer I've got for you. You asking the same question five times will not produce a different answer. Furthermore, acting like something is okay does not make it so. Insisting that a file exists when it doesn't only hurts you ... I assure you, it doesn't hurt me.

So go ahead ... bloviate ... tell the world that everything has been fixed. And then tomorrow when everything explodes, I'll really fix it.

P.S. - Stop moving my chair!

P.P.S. - No, seriously ... this is the fifth time I've moved it back today. Stop TOUCHING my chair!

There you go
You're always so right
It's all a big show
It's all about you
You think you know
What everyone needs
You always take time
To criticize me

Simple Plan - Shut Up

Where To Start ..

2010-02-09T17:15:00.003-04:00

I'm in a quandary. When I was younger ... say in my early 20's ... I hated "knick knacks." You know those things you have laying around the house? Snow globes from various vacations ... small figurines saying "I Love You THIS Much" ... anything like that was anathema to me.

But now I'm older and I've fallen into the trap. I guess there's no way to avoid it. People give you things and you want to keep them. So now my office is covered with figurines, candles, stuffed animals ... you name it.

The problem ... is that each one of these items means something to me. If it didn't, I could easily chuck it in the trash and not think twice. But how am I supposed to get rid of things that were given to me with so much thought and love behind them?

So my question is ... what do you do with things like this? How long do you keep them up? Is there a point where you say, "No more ... this stuff HAS to go!" And if so, what do you do with everything? I hate clutter ... and the clutter is starting to overwhelm me ...

Do you have the time
To listen to me whine
About nothing and everything
All at once
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it

Green Day - Basket Case

The Top Five On Friday ...

2010-02-05T16:02:00.006-04:00

Glancing through today's Daily Meme offerings, we find Music Memoirs's The Top Five on Friday ... and this week's theme?

Top 5 Songs You Think It Should Be
Illegal For Anyone to Cover
1) Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin - There should be a law restricting any covering of this song ... not because Led Zeppelin's version is so perfect and sacrosanct that covering it would be an abomination ... but because the original recording has been played so many god forsaken times that at any moment a rift in time and space will open and temporal police will appear and arrest anyone caught playing it. Seriously, people. Put the god damned disk down. No more.

2) Total Eclipse of the Heart - Bonnie Tyler - Once again, this should never be covered ... not because Bonnie Tyler created the world's most perfect song ... but because the damned thing should have never been recorded in the first place. It's like rubbing shards of glass into my ear drums whenever I have to hear that possessed zombie voice squeak, "Turn around bright eyes ..." Who ever produced this piece of shit should be taken into a field and have their fingers chewed off by wolverines ... wolverines who sing, "Turn around bright eyes ..."

3) Any Song by Meatloaf - Because, quite frankly, no one has been born since Marvin Lee Aday who can do justice to Paradise by the Dashboard Lights or Two Out of Three Ain't Bad. I know that sounds cliche ... but it's true. His voice has a certain quality that none of the Jonas Brothers or their ilk could hope to achieve. I think Bruce Springsteen could pull it off ... but he has enough of his own "making out in cars" songs, why would he want to cover someone else's?

4) Thriller - Michael Jackson - I suppose I liked this song at one time. Hell everybody liked this song at one point. You just know at some point, Pope John Paul was walking around the Vatican in a red leather jacket making the Cardinals do the zombie dance behind him. In any case, Thriller isn't so great anymore ... I guess it didn't stand up well over time. But it's so iconic that I can't imagine anyone else doing it justice.

5) Hotel California - Eagles - Maybe I'm just a sucker for this song ... but damn, Hotel California has to be one of the best songs ever recorded. The melody is so rich and mellow ... and those guitars. [sigh] Sure, some claim it may be about satanism or smoking weed or a mental asylum ... but hey, nobody is perfect, right? There's no sense in even trying to cover it ... Hotel California is flawless just the way it is.

And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we're glowing like the the metal on the edge of a knife
Glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C'mon! Hold on tight!
C'mon! Hold on tight!
Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night
I can see paradise by the dashboard light

Meatloaf - Paradise by the Dashboard Lights

Lost In Translation ...

2010-02-05T10:20:00.011-04:00

I woke up this morning craving Chinese food ... and it brought this story to mind. Seemed like a good topic for Meme Express Friday Freedom.

Years and years ago ... I dated this guy. For purposes of this story, I've changed names to protect the guilty ... and we going to call him Dick. That isn't his name ... but it fits. Anyhow, we weren't a great fit ... and the relationship didn't last more than six months or so. Although there were plenty of problems with Dick ... his distant relationship with anything resembling the truth being one ... I think I can trace all the little things back to one very large issue ... his family. These people were wackadoodles. I have stories that would curl your hair.

Like how about two years before I met Dick, he apparently knocked up the 16 year old daughter of their neighbors. That in itself isn't earth-shattering ... but here's the thing ... he would've been around 20 at the time. Oh, but that was funny, his family explained. In fact, they kept the child's baby picture tucked in the frame of Dick's baby picture (the two photos looked eerily identical) on the living room wall ... to demonstrate the humor of the situation. That alone should have made me run ... but no ...

How about Dick's father's frequent calls to my office just to "chat with me" ... or his inexplicable interest in attaining sordid details of his son's love life. Or how about when Dick's parents decided to move to Peoria ... giving their two grown children the option of either moving with them or getting their own place down here ... and his mother's subsequent insistence that I pay for their son's deposit and first month's rent. When I balked at the idea, she shrieked at me, "Just what is the problem here? It's not like you don't have a job!"

In any case ... one night, Dick's parents announced that they were going to take the family out for Chinese and they'd like me to come ... their treat. To say we were all shocked is an understatement. This invitation was an extremely rare event. It's occurrence is probably inscribed on a Myan calendar somewhere next to their 2012 prediction. Along with just generally being odd, his parents didn't pay for anything that wasn't absolutely, positively required by law.

These days, I'm a Chinese food connoisseur. While I don't like a lot of exotic dishes, I could easily find a dozen things on a Chinese menu that would make my toes curl with delight. But way back in the day? No ... I was strictly a fried rice kind of girl. Even then I would wince when, occasionally, I'd see my fried rice scattered with a few of those tiny, freakish ears of corn. Anyhow ... I was pretty happy about the whole thing. I thought it was a good sign that I was being included as part of "the family." Little did I know things with "the family" were about to go from bad to worse.

We arrived at the restaurant and the six of us proceeded to order off the menu. However, when our food arrived, everything was placed in the middle of the table. I was a little confused ... but took my fried rice and grabbed a fork. There was an awkward pause ... as they all stared at me as though I'd hiked up my skirt and pissed on the table leg. "What?" I asked. Dick's father cleared his throat and said, "Well, sweetheart, the point of going for Chinese is that we all order what we like ... and then eat family style so that we can all try a little of each dish."

Now this is the point of the story where ... I readily admit ... I must've looked like a hillbilly ...

I scrunched up my eyebrows, looked at him, and said, "Why the hell would I do that? If I wanted to eat what you ordered, I would've ordered it myself."

What excuses can I offer? I can only assume I must've come off as terribly rude. Although, to be fair I was young and I didn't grow up with my family going out for Chinese. But let's be frank ... I don't really understand someone assuming they're going to eat food off my plate in the first place.

So, after dwelling on this awhile, I have to ask ... I know this happened around 20 years ago, but was this common? Did everyone (or does everyone still) go to Chinese and eat "family style"? Do you commonly pass around your plate of Sesame Chicken so you can try dishes you had no intention of eating in the first place? Is this why they created Chinese buffets so people like me wouldn't have to keep saying, "Stop touching my food?!"

You know, karma is a bitch ... and I bet Dick is sitting in a Starbucks somewhere writing a blog post about this crazy chick he used to date who wouldn't let his family touch her food ... LOL

Yo, I told you
(can't touch this)
Why you standing there, man?
(can't touch this)
Yo, sound the bell, school is in, sucka
(can't touch this)

MC Hammer - Can't Touch This

That's My Answer ...

2010-02-04T16:31:00.005-04:00

Today's message is brought to you by That's My Answer courtesy of The Daily Meme.

1. Who was the last person to send you a letter in the mail? - That's a tough one because I rarely receive letters anymore. I mean rarely. So, if I had to guess, I'd say the last letter I received was from my aunt. It was a few years ago ... an odd, rambling note that, when she ran out of space, my aunt finished by writing up the sides of the margin. She's well intentioned ... but I think, like most elderly women on that side of the family tree, she's starting to slip a little.

2. Who was the last person to ring your doorbell? - The last person to ring our doorbell was the daughter of our next door neighbor. Normally, I would've been concerned because a visit from her usually meant she had lost a ball in our yard or, on one particularly disastrous occasion, our dogs had escaped. But this time it was the best news I'd gotten all week. She'd joined girl scouts and wanted to know if I wanted to buy cookies. Do I want to buy cookies?! Does Jeremy Piven eat a lot of tuna? Anyhow, I am now on the list to receive two boxes ... so now I just need to hide seven dollars somewhere in the house so I'll have actual cash to pay her once they come in.

3. Who was the last person to give you a hug? - This is an easy one ... because on any given day, Mr. ThirtyWhat gives me dozens of hugs. Sure there are times you may catch me when my mom or the girls will have been the last ones to hug me ... but nine out of ten times ... the answer will always be Mr. ThirtyWhat.

Gimme a ticket for an aeroplane,
Ain't got time to take a fast train.
Lonely days are gone, I'm a-goin' home,
'Cause my baby just a-wrote me a letter.

Joe Cocker - The Letter

Hakuna Matata ...

2010-02-03T17:56:00.010-04:00

My cousin is having a baby ... well, more accurately his wife is having a baby ... and it's a very big event. An event that, I imagine, will put the Lion King to shame. I fully expect large herds of wild animals to congregate in front of Memorial Hospital while someone rubs mango juice on this infant's head.

The rules and regulations of illustrious Grandchild Derby are a little convoluted ... but try to follow me ...

My mother was one of four siblings. These four siblings produced seven children and, therefore, seven opportunities for offspring. However, neither my brother nor I were able to have children. So that leaves five. One of my cousins is also barren ... so that knocks it down to four. My youngest cousin recently got out of college and started her career ... so while I'm certain she'll have children someday, for the moment (and for the purpose of this demonstration), we're down to three.

The fertile trifecta consists of one cousin who is a sullen, unhappy woman whom everyone avoids, her crackhead sister, whom you may remember from this act of brilliance, and the one remaining fertile male member of the family ... whose wife is pregnant at this very moment.

So, if you're still following along by this point, this child will be the first grandchild from the one male child born from the one male in the family. Which means you should expect to receive your invitation sometime in the next few weeks with directions to Pride Rock.

Yes, I realize that may sound sexist or misogynistic ... but ask Princess Anne how primogeniture is working out for her. What can you do? Life sucks ... buy a helmet.

In any case, since I can't have babies and was never in the imaginary line of succession anyway, it's a happy event. I like going to showers ... I like cake ... and I like picking out baby things ... so, what the hell. Obla di obla da ... which I believe roughly translates to ... hakuna matata.

One, two princes kneel before you
That what I said now
Princes, princes who adore you
Just go ahead now
One has diamonds in his pockets
That's some bread, now
This one said he wants to buy you rockets
Ain't in his head, now

Spin Doctors - Two Princes

Embrace the Good Days ...

2010-02-02T12:26:00.004-04:00

Part of the journey with PKD, at least in my case, is pain. There are all sorts of reasons for PKD related pain; there's pain related directly to expanding kidney cysts and bleeding into cysts, there's back pain related to a change in posture because of the enlarging cysts, and there's also nerve irritation from cysts. Then there's pain related to infection and pain related to kidney stone formation. And if that weren't enough, there's pain related to liver cysts that commonly develop in PKD patients.

So what causes my distress? I have no idea. They've tried test after test after test. But basically, we know something is pressing into something else ... and we know it hurts. I have medicine that will stop the hurt ... but that comes with it's own set of issues.

PKD also causes the kidneys to grow ... which presses against other organs. Which means it's difficult to eat these days. Hard to believe, I know, if you could see my size. But it's a vicious circle. I'm hungry all the time. But I can only eat a small bit. Which means I'm still hungry but my body hurts so I have to stop.

It's demoralizing ... to wake up feeling great ... and four hours later be hurting so bad all you want to do is go back to bed. What's the answer? I wish I knew. There are good days .. and there are bad days ... and you learn to embrace the good days.

Sadly, today is not a good day. But tomorrow may be ...

I'd like to make myself believe
That planet Earth turns slowly
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay
Awake when I'm asleep
Cause everything is never as it seems

Owl City - Fireflies

I Walked Away Thankful ...

2010-02-01T12:12:00.005-04:00

This weekend, Mr. ThirtyWhat and I saw "Precious" ... a movie, I must be honest, I was both looking forward to ... and dreading. Not that I don't love well-made, heart-wrenching movies. It just looked like one of those movies that nothing good can come of. It looked like one of those movies that you watch and then spend the next 48 hours in a depressive funk.

But "Precious" isn't quite like that. It's dark and depressing and upsetting ... but it does end on a hint of a high note. I say "hint" because, most likely, there is no happy ending for Precious Jones. But to say much more than that would be to spoil your experience.

I would give you a deeper synopsis, but everyone knows the plot. Precious is an obese, illiterate 16-year-old girl who is pregnant for the 2nd time by her own father. There is nothing good in her life. And when I say there is nothing good in her life, I am not exaggerating. There is not one ray of sunshine in this child's life. Her mother abuses her mentally, physically, and sexually. Her classmates ridicule her. She yearns for a boyfriend and some small sense of normality in the chaos of her life.

As the story unfolds, you see that every step Precious makes in bettering herself is met with equal and opposite force by her mother, Mary. Quite frankly, it amazes me that Precious finds the strength to get out of bed each morning. It's a strong story ... and Mo'Nique give a performance that is terrifying. I couldn't sleep after watching it ... Mary's mistreatment of her daughter was burned into my thoughts.

I will tell you that I walked away from this movie realizing that, even though we weren't wealthy, I won the lottery of life. I was born to parents who loved me ... who never abused me ... who cared whether I learned to read and write. I was born to parents who worked and raised me to work. I was born to a household who made me feel safe and loved. And after watching Precious, I hope I never forget that ... or take it for granted.

The first sign of spring
The rose buds are blooming
I got a new song new song to sing
Life looks so amazing
I never knew that it could open my eyes
And for the very very first time
I can see in color

Mary J Blige - I Can See In Color

A Jewel In My Crown?

2009-11-24T11:16:00.005-04:00

I am curious about the phrase "jewels in your crown."

I have a family member who is very dear and very religious. She has a habit of saying "you've earned a jewel in your crown" whenever she approves of something you've done. From what I've observed, the blessing doesn't seem to be tied to the magnitude of the gesture. If you've fed a homeless person, you've earned a jewel in your crown. If you've passed the butter, you've earned a jewel in your crown.

And so I started Googling. I wanted to find out exactly where in the bible it talks this subject. I found a lot of vague references to good deeds earning you these jewels ... and a lot of people congratulating people for doing something that has, again, earned them these ubiquitous jewels. But no where could I find an actual bible verse that references this topic.

Not, let me assure you, I'm not a moron. I understand these are metaphorical jewels and that God is not running a Heavenly Federal Reserve. I don't think anyone is under the idea that the Archangel Michael is a winged CFO keeping track of how many jewels someone has earned and how much interest they're owed.

However, I'm curious over whether this is just a man-made phenomenon ... or if there really was a parable or scripture verse that said something along the lines of ... if you do good deeds, you will earn a jewel in your heavenly crown.

Anyone with biblical knowledge out there wanna take a shot?

I was on the inside
When they pulled the four walls down
I was looking through the window
I was lost, I am found
If you walk away, walk away
I walk away, walk away
I will follow

U2 - I Will Follow

Ruth 1:16: "But Ruth said, "Entreat me not to leave you or to return from following you; for where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God."

Just For Today, I Am a Big Baby ...

2009-11-19T16:20:00.004-04:00

I'm not doing well today. I know I'm overreacting ... but I can't seem to help it.

It started about a year ago. I had something on my face ... a mole ... a spot ... I don't know. Honestly, it looked like a blood blister. It started off small. It grew. It would occasionally bleed and get smaller ... but then it would get larger again. Sorry ... it's gross, I know.

So today I finally went to the dermatologist and they said it needed to be removed, tested, and the spot cauterized to stop the bleeding. This is no big deal. She didn't think it was cancerous. She just said they needed to test it to be sure there wasn't anything going on with the skin cells.

Well ... between the shot in my cheek to numb the area (wowsa) ... and seeing the razor blade with which she "shaved" the skin off ... and hearing and smelling the cauterizing of the skin afterwards ... I feel absolutely sick. Mr. FortyWhat had to drive me to work ... I'm queasy, my head aches, and my cheek is sore.

I have nothing further to add ... I just wanted to whine and complain. That is all. Carry on.

I'm not afraid
Of anything in this world
There's nothing you can throw at me
That I haven't already heard

I'm just trying to find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

I never thought you were a fool
But darling look at you
You gotta stand up straight
Carry your own weight
These tears are going nowhere baby

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

U2 - Stuck In A Moment

It Wasn't So Bad ...

2009-11-17T10:48:00.010-04:00

Well, the apocalypse came last Wednesday. Wait, you didn't feel it? You didn't feel the earthquakes or see the landslides? You didn't hear the trumpets sound? Yeah, that's because those things didn't happen. Oh no, you didn't miss it. The apocalypse occurred right on schedule ... only it arrived with a whimper instead of a bang.

Last Wednesday, ThirtyWhat became FortyWhat. My flaming youth packed it's bags and wished me a fond farewell as it exited the building. Oh, it was fun while it lasted. But all good things must come to an end ... and so I enter ... middle age. Which is odd, because I don't feel middle aged at all.

Or ... maybe I do.

These days, I enjoy crawling onto our enormous pillow top bed and going to sleep early ... while twenty years ago my motto was "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

These days, I enjoy spending a quiet evening at home, curled up with a good book ... while twenty years ago, an enjoyable evening would be a White Zombie concert where I would spend said evening permanently damaging my hearing.

These days, I enjoy a glass of ice tea ... while twenty years ago, I had my own fully-stocked wet bar that would make any alcoholic or professional bartender green with envy.

So yes ... I guess in a lot of ways I do act my age. But I like who I am and I like where I'm at. Mr. ThirtyWhat ... er ... Mr. FortyWhat made it a great birthday and reminded me that I am loved ... no matter what my age. And really, that's all that matters ...

Look at this face
I know the years are showing
Look at this life
I still don't know where it's going
I don't know much
But I know I love you
That may be all I need to know

Linda Ronstadt - Don't Know Much

How Long Can You Lie To Yourself?

2009-10-13T11:16:00.007-04:00

I lost two friends this weekend. That might not be completely accurate. One wasn't really a friend at all. Just the spouse of the friend. But still ...

It's a hard situation and there aren't any easy fixes. To be honest, I don't think there are any fixes at all. There is ... or rather was ... someone I've known since high school. We were best friends. Thick as thieves. But even way back then, everyone (friends and family alike) asked me, "Why are you friends with her?" She was negative and critical, always putting me down.

But the thing was ... I never took it personally. I had a blessed life where she didn't. I had a warm, loving, sober family ... I had plenty of friends ... plenty of boyfriends. But she didn't. So I always understood that when she lashed out, it wasn't because she didn't like me.

Time went on. We ended up working together. Again, co-workers took up the cause. "Why are you friends with her?" Because I saw goodness in her. I saw that there was a hurt soul in there ... and I felt like I understood why she became who she became. People told me she was judgemental. People told me she was brash and harsh. I guess in the quiet moments ... I really saw her tender, sweet side. But that was a side that she let almost no one see. So it's no wonder that no one else believed me.

She called me a "ho." I thought she was lonely. She told people I was a liar. I thought she was insecure. She said I bought my cloths at Salvation Army. I thought she was trying to be funny. Every jab and snipe ... I took. I wasn't a ho ... I wasn't a liar ... I didn't buy my cloths at Salvation Army ... I was SECURE in WHO I WAS. And so I let it go.

We grew apart. I wasn't blameless ... far from it. I secretly went out with a guy that she was desperately crushing on ... she found out and it hurt her terribly. That's something that I'm not proud of. When I turned 21, I wanted to go out drinking with my new friends ... something that she wanted nothing to do with. And so I left her behind. Again, something I'm not proud of. I have a feeling that someday when I'm called to account for my actions, there will be more than one that involve her.

And so we grew apart. I grew tired of her negativity. I grew tired of always being told "you know my number" when I e-mailed, reaching out to her. I grew tired of people telling me what she was saying behind my back.

Fast forward ... the world changes ... and some genius invents Facebook. When her husband asked to friend me, I didn't hesitate. I missed them. I really did. I told him to set her up with account ... and a year or so later, he did.

Time had passed ... but nothing had changed. She still made snarky, hurtful comments ... but I could no longer tell myself, "She's just trying to be funny." When I changed my status to read, "... is sick with a bad sinus infection. Went to prompt care. Got medicine. Going back to bed." Did she respond, "Get well soon?" No. She wrote something along the lines of, "God, you're always sick. We need to put you in a plastic bubble or something."

I didn't tell anyone ... but that hurt. She was there when I was diagnosed with my kidney disease. She's taken me to the hospital before. When I broke a cyst and couldn't stop throwing up ... she was there. She knows why I'm sick all the time. Or she should know. If she cared.

But this weekend was the final straw. Everything blew to hell and I wasn't even home. I made a status update that jokingly teased that if Ann Coulter told you she agreed with you on an issue ... you desperately needed to re-evaluate your position.

She wrote back and said, among other things, that I was corrupted ... and said my husband had brainwashed me with his "liberal gibberish." Before I could intervene, my husband told her, among other things, that her comment was hateful. Before I could intervene, her husband said, among other things, we were "part of the loony left."

And so ... it ends. I deleted the comment thread ... and unfriended them both. In truth, I hadn't seen either one if them "in person" for probably five or six years. Maybe more. So is it much of a loss?

Kind of ... because I was holding out hope that eventually she would drop the whole mean-spirited vibe and be the person I knew she was down deep inside. But honestly I have to ask myself ... after all these years ... was she ever that person?

Treating today as though
It was the last, the final show
Get to sixty and feel no regret
It may take a little time
A lonely path, an uphill climb
Success or failure will not alter it
And do you feel scared - I do
But I won't stop and falter
And if we threw it all away
Things can only get better

Howard Jones - Things Can Only Get Better

Note: Apparently it isn't enough that I've posted a screed ... but I have to add one additional thing. This is not up for debate. This is not up for discussion. It is a statement ... a final thought.

My great-grandfather was a dyed in the wool Democrat ... as was my grandfather ... and my mother ... and me. I've looked at the issues over the years ... and I'm open minded ... but blue has always been a better fit for me than red. My husband is a Democrat. And so my marriage to him did not alter my political views and beliefs one way or the other.

My friend ... or ... the woman who was my friend ... was raised in a Democratic household. Her family voted Democrat across the board. She married and has now blossomed into a Glen-Beck-Spouting Rush-Limbaugh-Loving Republican. Good for you. But with that kind of background and history ... and knowing mine ... how much sense does it make to "joke" about my husband "brainwashing" me?

I don't care what sex you date. I don't care where you pray. I don't care if you pray. I don't care who you vote for. Declare your belief in the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and be touched by his noodly appendage for all I care. But don't judge me, don't throw hate at me, and don't you dare question what I believe in. Calling my beliefs "liberal gibberish" is no less hateful than making fun of my religion. We can agree to disagree ... but when you start the name calling, the conversation ends. And so ... it did.

Playing For The Push ...

2009-10-05T15:15:00.004-04:00

So, the wedding is over. A week's gone by and I still don't feel like myself. It's as though I walked through a dark, sticky cloud and, no matter how I try, I can't seem to shake it off. Oh, part of it is the terrible head cold I picked up along the way. There's no doubt about that. But part of it is the swirling, black morass of bad karma that apparently had nothing better to do that weekend than come along for the ride.

Mr. ThirtyWhat put it perfectly. In fact, he warned me. It's a train wreck that's bound to happen and the only thing you can do is make sure you're out of the way of the train. Good advice. Advice that I listened to. I must've stepped out of the way of that train at least a dozen times ... but I ended up in the wreckage anyway.

It could've been worse. Some people aren't speaking over the events of that weekend ... but it's bad enough. I'm tired and irritable ... I don't feel like myself. And worst of all, I don't know what I need to do to get me back to where I need to be. I guess the best you can play for sometimes is a push.

Lot of knots, lot of snags,
Lot of holes, lot of cracks
Lot of crags, lot of naggin' old hags
Lot of fools, lot of fool scum bags
Oh it's such a drag, what a chore
Oh your wounds are full of salt
Everything's a stress and what's more
Well it's all somebody's fault

Ok Go - Get Over It

Life Lessons From ThirtyWhat ...

2009-09-14T14:38:00.007-04:00

I am maid of honor ... make that matron of honor ... in an upcoming wedding. Therefore, one of my duties was to throw the future bride a bachelorette party ... which happened 48 hours ago on Saturday night. This ... is what I learned from that experience:

Clubs are fun, exciting places ... if you are drinking.
If you are not drinking, clubs are noisy, annoying, and expensive.
The Corner Pub and The Office give free sodas to designated drivers ...
Donnie B's Break Time and Funny Bone do not.
Comedians are absolutely hilarious if you're drinking.
Comedians are amusing at best if you aren't.
Alcohol is prohibitively expensive ...
Therefore, bring lots of cash.
No, more than that.
If throwing a bachelorette party, bring along one trusted "safe" man to be a designated driver, bouncer, and bodyguard.
Be sure to buy the man who accepts this job a drink ... because if designated drivers don't have fun in general, rest assured that this guy is having even less.
39 3/4 is way too old to being throwing this type of party ...
Particularly if the 39 3/4 person has to stay sober.
Bring a camera with a LOT of disk space.
Photos can and, most likely will, be used as evidence against you in a court of law.
Designated drivers are almost never in these photos.
Trust me ... that ... is a good thing.

I'm safe
Up high
Nothing can touch me
But why do I feel this party's over?
No pain
Inside
You're like perfection
But how do I feel this good sober?

Pink - Sober

Mad Men Malaise

2009-09-14T12:07:00.005-04:00

I've been disappointed with Mad Men these last few episodes ... only because it hasn't been furthering the story. There have been a lot of "clues" left that have gone no where. When Gene was sent in to sit alone with the children, I had a bad feeling. When Gene was having Sally sit in his room and read to him, I had a very bad feeling. When Gene was having Sally drive him and thus creating a "bond of a secret" between them, red lights and sirens were screaming. What happened? Nothing. He died.

And on THAT front ... when the police man came to the door to inform them of Gene's death, I was SURE that it was a trick ... a test to see if Betty would know what to do with that folder. She'd pitched such a fit that she refused to talk about his death wishes ... I was just SURE he was playing a cruel prank on her to show her she SHOULD'VE been listening.

But no ... clue after clue ... moment after moment. Nothing. What about Peggy's announcement to Pete last year about their child? Will we NEVER hear another word spoke between the two of them about the bonnet-wearing elephant in the room? What about Pete and Trudy's deeply flawed marriage?

I enjoyed seeing Peggy get high. I enjoyed seeing Don mortified at Roger's black face performance. But those are basically vignettes ... in a series that is supposed to be about arcs and drama. Maybe I'm just being impatient?

So it's time to stop being so impatient
It's time to stop being so impatient
Your philosophy
Is totally lost on me
With a promise I don't mean to have you waiting

We are Scientists - Impatience

The Return of ThirtyWhat?

2009-09-01T12:22:00.004-04:00

Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. - Mark Twain
Contrary to what you would assume, gravity has not ceased to exist in the two foot area around my body. I have not floated off the Earth and into the stratosphere.

I have been wracking my brain off and on in the last ten weeks trying to decide what to write here ... and I just couldn't think of a single interesting thing to post. I've got nothing but fluff and sawdust up there. Oh, don't get me wrong ... I'm not under the false assumption that anything I've ever posted was that interesting. It just felt as though I'd sailed into the doldrums ... and there wasn't a breeze in sight.

Nothing has changed ... other than a busier-than-normal social calendar. The next four weeks will be a whirlwind of activity. As soon as I've planned one appointment, another one crops up. Honestly ... if this keeps up, how do people expect me to further my lackadaisical lifestyle?

Good things to share:

In 25 days, I will be the maid of honor (matron of honor?) in a fabulous, lavish wedding. My dress will be finished this Saturday and if I can just tie up a few loose ends (such as finding the perfect pair of shoes), we can put a bow on this and call it good.

Season 3 of Mad Men has started and, as usual, I absolutely love it ... although I'm not sure where they're taking Peggy and I've got a really, really bad feeling about Betty's father, Gene. Any Mad Men fans out there with thoughts on it?

I've lost ten pounds ... and as much as I mourn the loss of my comfort food, I do not mourn those ten pounds. Now let's see if we can get some of their com padres to join 'em.

Not so good things to share:

The PKD train keeps a rollin' and, while my function is still stable at around 50%, the newest snag is that I'm terribly Vitamin D deficient and my phosphorus levels are too low. That's pretty odd ... since most PKD patients have too much phosphorus.

In any case, they've scheduled a bone density scan ... and I've been given three months to boost these numbers naturally. If I can't, the nephrologist says I'll be given high dose supplements. Unfortunately raising it "naturally" means I have to take a multivitamin each morning the size of my fist ... and I've been ordered to drink milk ... which I find repulsive.

Other than having a long, healthy life with Mr. Thirtywhat, you know what's motivating me to drink that nasty white stuff? I suspect these "high dose supplements" with which they have threatened me will be just as big, if not bigger, than the HORSE PILL of a multivitamin that I'm choking down each morning.

Sometimes you have to pick your battles ...

You take a horse to water
But you can't make him drink
You can have it all laid out in front of you
But it still don't make you think

George Harrison - Horse to Water

The Worst (and Best) Show On Television ...

2009-06-11T15:56:00.006-04:00

I watch bad tv. It's not a secret ... I've blogged many times about my love of cheap, trashy television shows like, "Celebrity Rehab" and "Big Brother." My wonderful husband would be happy Comcast offered only three channels; PBS, The History Channel, and The Science Channel ... but not me. I like reality shows ... and I like them even more when they involve D-List celebrities. Therefore, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I've started watching, "I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here!"

Since I'm under the impression this show is flopping like a fish ... let me share a few tidbits with you ...

First, in the near future, books will be written about Janice Dickinson and her unspeakable shortcomings. I'm not sure if it's early onset Alzheimer's that has caused her to forget that there are cameras on her 24/7 ... but it seems like that would be an important fact to remember if you plan on stealing food and pissing on the ground next to your bed.

Next, Patti Blagojevich is a better actress than Halle Berry, Nicole Kidman and Charlize Theron combined. She has everyone in that camp fooled that she is the shy, shrinking violet and that Rod is a real-life Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. Apparently, not one of those campers has bothered to pick up a newspaper in the last 12 months. Because none of them are aware of what's been going on.

Here are the few of the gems falling from Patti's lips:

1) She announced that Pat Quinn was so mean because he cut off their security only minutes after the impeachment was finalized. (Really? Thank you for that information, Patti ... it has guaranteed that Pat Quinn will get my vote at the next election.)

2) She claims that the troopers who were in charge of their security cried when they learned that Rod had been impeached. (And lemme tell you folks, that is so believable because if Illinois State Troopers are known for one thing, it's their emotional crying jags. God, I mean ... they are so emotional it's like there's an army of LOLCats driving across the state of Illinois in squad cars. Oh wait ... no, it's not like that at all.)

3) She praised our 35-room, 50-thousand-square-foot Executive Mansion in Springfield ... only to turn around and accuse everyone in Springfield of hating her for refusing to move into it. She claims that the chef and the staff would just be too much for their children. Oh yes ... Rod and Patti wanted to give their kids a simple life and keep them in the same schools.

[Sigh] ... where to begin.

First off, Patti, we disliked you for far more reasons than just your refusal to move into the Executive Mansion. However, while we're on the subject of you and Rod's decision to have him commute everyday ...

Thank you, Patti ... for forcing us, the Illinois taxpayer, to spend almost $6,000 per day, several days per week to fly your husband, Rod Blagojevich, from your home in Chicago to his office in Springfield. The total bill in June of 2007 was $75,000. But that's okay. The State of Illinois is just rolling in money, right Patti? What's that? We have a projected $12 billion dollar deficit? Well, that's okay ... this was about your children's safety and well being, right?

Although ... now that we're on the subject ... you must think that Barack and Michelle Obama are abusing the SHIT outta their kids, right? I mean, they chose to them move from Chicago to the WHITE HOUSE. I mean, if the Illinois Governor's Mansion was too much for your kids, the White House must be the equivalent of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Thank GOD you kept your children safe from the dregs of Springfield. That must've been why you cancelled the annual Halloween Trick-or-Treating at the mansion, right? Because it would've just been "too much" for your kids? My God, Sasha and Malia must be a psychological wreck after going to the White House Easter Egg Hunt, huh?

I donno, folks ... I'm torn. Torn between praying a daily novena that Janice Dickinson is voted the hell off my tv ... and torn between praying to the cloven hoofed god that made her to please let this madness continue. I mean, at this point, what else is she going to do before her lawyers intervene and remind her that she is being taped?! Between her and Patti, this stuff is golden!

We're only liars, but we're the best
We're only good for the latest trend
We're only good cause you can have almost famous friends
Besides, we've got such good fashion sense

Fall Out Boy - Our Lawyer Made Us Change
The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued

My Secret Shame ... Twilight ...

2009-06-10T15:58:00.006-04:00

I was never goth in high school. Oh, not that I didn't want to be. I secretly envisioned a day I could wrap myself in Stevie Nicks' wardrobe and brood over music with dark, questionable lyrics. But ... with a mother who was a faithful Roman Catholic ... the closest thing I came to goth was listening to "Just Like Heaven" and gazing wistfully at the Wet n' Wild black nail polish at Walgreens. Weak, I know.

But my point is that way back in the day ... I aspired to that lifestyle. I always fantasized that I'd be the hot, redheaded chick who always dressed in black. In reality? Yeah ... um ... no. I was the short redhead art chick whose hands were covered with India ink or charcoal some other media that invariably wouldn't wash off.

I mean, we had Interview With a Vampire. We had Lestat, for Christ's sake. We had a reason to want to be goth. We had Anne Rice living down there in New Orleans publishing stories of dangerous vampires who oozed sex out of every pore. But then Anne ... poor Anne ... she found Jesus, moved to California, and now spends her days writing about her new found faith.

So what's filled the gothic void created by Anne's rebirth as a Christian? Twilight. And ... thanks to Twilight, we have a new generation of vampire loving kids ... only these aren't your father's vampires. They sparkle. You heard me right ... they sparkle. And if that's not adorable enough for you ... they play "vampire baseball." Which is identical to human baseball except that they run really fast ... and, of course, sparkle.

Hell, vampires aren't even dangerous anymore ... they fight their baser instincts and only partake in animal blood, for the love of God. Oh, and let's not forget their long discussions over whether or not they have a soul. It's like this entire series was written by your local CYO director.

So ... in the end, what you've got here is every 13 year old's wet dream. Edward, our hero, is a hot, safe guy who wants nothing more to get to first base and share your body glitter. The only thing missing is a pet unicorn that farts rainbows. It's a complete and utter load of bullshit ...

... bullshit that is, if you've ever, at any point, had ovaries inside your body, the equivalent of printed crack.

Hello. I am ThirtyWhat.
{Hello, ThirtyWhat}
I ... am a middle-aged Twilight addict.
{Claps}
Sure, it's completely normal for a 13 year old to love this stuff ... so what's my excuse? I don't want to be one of those creepy aging women wearing a "Team Edward" shirt while slathering on my Bonne Bell lip gloss.

So ... common, Anne. Pick up that pen. If you write just one more book in the Vampire Chronicles, I might be able to regain some of my lost self esteem. Whaddaya say? I'm sure Jesus would be perfectly cool with it ...

I don't care what they may say
I don't care what they may do
I don't care what they may say
Jesus is just alright, oh yeah
Jesus is just alright

Doobie Brothers - Jesus Is Just Alright

I'm Not Angry ... I'm Amused ...

2009-05-19T12:43:00.006-04:00

I work in the IT field. I'm no Bill Gates ... hell, I'm not even Kevin Mitnick. I'm just a drone ... but a talented drone who is more than happy to help out friends and family whenever I can.

Having said that ... I just want to give a heads up here on behalf of my geek brethren ...

When someone in the IT field offers you help ... off the clock on their own time ... please try to be gracious. Usually when I and those of my ilk are trying our best to fix whatever issues you're having, it's not in the best of circumstances.

Just like plumbers or doctors or car mechanics, we have busy, hectic lives and do our best to balance what must be done with what we want to be doing. In fact, we bought a brand new 1 Tb external drive about a month ago that we're going to use as a backup/archive on our home network ... but guess what? I don't have time to install it because I'm too busy working on other projects. I'll give you an example ...

This weekend I missed part of a movie as I walked someone through the steps of establishing their broadband connection after their (paid) installer left mid-way through the job. That problem was solved long-distance over the phone. I also restored and optimized a laptop after a family member got a virus ... most of which I did Sunday morning as I was cooking breakfast for my family.

Those two family members were more than gracious ... they were kind and enthusiastically thankful. Then again, I fixed their problems. They walked away (or hung up the phone) with the optimal desired outcome. Unfortunately, however, that isn't always the case.

Occasionally, I can't fix a problem. While I promise you, there has never been a situation where I didn't want to fix a problem ... sometimes I either don't have the hardware or don't have the software or, on a rare occasion, simply don't have the training.

Then there are those odd, uncommon moments ... when the problem is such that it can't be fixed. I find that people react worse to that particular scenario. They don't want to hear that their round peg simply will not fit in that square hole. And, while I'm talented, as Scotty would say, "I cannot change the laws of physics."

And so, if you are one of the small percentile whom I couldn't help recently ... here is my half-assed apology. Enjoy it. It's the only one you'll get ...

I'm looking through you, where did you go
I thought I knew you, what did I know
You don't look different, but you have changed
I'm looking through you, you're not the same

Beatles - I'm Looking Through You

The Other "F Word" ...

2009-05-06T16:25:00.003-04:00

Okay ... so, I was born in November of 1969. Which means I have six more months before the name of my blog becomes ... inaccurate.

I have been posting under the name ThirtyWhat since November of 2004. And, while I don't have a "following", I don't relish the thought of changing my name to ... sigh ... the next logical naming pattern. And then there's the whole issue of e-mail addresses and twitter accounts. When you think about it, there's a lot of virtual paperwork involved in altering a virtual identity.

And so ... the clock ticks by ... each tick bringing me another moment closer to the other "F" word. I think the only solution is to stay ThirtyWhat. As misleading at that may be, it seems like the easiest course.

But thinking ahead ... even if it's a long shot that I would still be blogging eleven years years from now, it would be odd to be calling myself ThirtyWhat as I apply for my AARP card ...

It was nineteen eighty-somethin'
In the world that I grew up in
Skating rinks and black Trans-Am's
Big hair and parachute pants
Lookin' back now I can see me
Oh man, did I look cheesy
I wouldn't trade those days for nothin'
Oh it was nineteen eighty-somethin'

Mark Wills - 19 Something

Who Are All These People ...

2009-05-05T09:16:00.005-04:00

So, it's 24 hours later and you'd think the dark cloud over my head would've burnt off by now, right? Or not.

I have suddenly become very cynical towards the whole Facebook culture. I mean, who are we kidding? If you haven't seen or spoken to someone in 15 or 20 years, then they ... most probably ... can not be considered your friend. I think it's comforting, at least for people my age, to look at that list and think, "Oh, look at all these people I'm still in touch with!" But let's be realistic ... these people are not, in any "real world" sense ... friends.

And you know, here is the root of the problem ... I am not the same person I was in grade school or high school. People grow and mature (hopefully) and develop new interests. But for some inane reason, I have dozens of friends from grade school. People whom I can barely remember. I have absolutely nothing in common with these people ... other than we both shared the same Catholic school experience.

I found myself shocked the other day while perusing my friend list. There's the sweet, easy-going kid who asked me to prom ... who is now an agressive, frothing-at-the-mouth Rush Limbaugh clone. Hmmmm, I didn't see that coming. There's the friend who was the painfully shy, deep, "poetic" type guy in high school ... who has a profile picture of him holding the head up of a deer who is bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound to the head. Okay, now that came out of left field. Then there's the girl who was the purest, strictest Mormon you'd ever meet ... who apparently graduated and went on to a profitable career as a stripper. Okay now that one ... just left me speechless.

But why am I judging them? I was the outgoing theatre girl who was the lead in the plays and who just knew I'd grow up to do something in the art field ... and now I'm the quiet computer geek. We all change.

And I am coming to find ... that I don't give a shit about these people. I am tired of putting myself out there and constantly giving optimistic, positive feedback to people who are nothing but karmic black holes. I do not expect you to mirror my beliefs or attitudes or lifestyle ... far, far from it. But I am no longer going to allow myself to be hurt by people about whom I don't give a rat's ass. Why should someone affect my mood when they in no way affect my life? These people are so far outside the reach of my daily personal interactions that I might as well start making Facebook friends with strangers in New Delhi.

So, it's undecided. Will I delete my account? I don't know. Mr. ThirtyWhat has a strict "family and close friends only" policy ... and that may be a viable alternative. But for the moment, while I may or may not completely swear off Facebook ... I think it's time for a cull. I need to thin the friends list herd.

Well, who are you?
Who are you? Who, who, who, who?
I really wanna know
Who are you? Who, who, who, who?
Tell me, who are you?
Who are you? Who, who, who, who?
'Cause I really wanna know
Who are you? Who, who, who, who?

The Who - Who Are You?

And On A Lighter Note ...

2009-05-04T16:56:00.003-04:00

Happy Anniversary to Mr. ThirtyWhat ...

Today is 13 years of wedded bliss!

We'll find a little wedding chapel
A pair of rings and a preacher too
Underneath the neon steeple
We'll take a gamble and say "I do"

Hey baby, let's go to Vegas
Kiss the single life good-bye
Hey baby, let's go to Vegas
Bet on love and let it ride

Faith Hill - Let's Go To Las Vegas

It Goes To Show You Never Can Tell ...

2009-05-04T16:42:00.004-04:00

We live in a culture of snark. Not only do I accept that fact ... I embrace it. Much of my humor is based on sarcasm and cynical smart-ass remarks ... and most people in my life share that same sort of attitude. I watch those mash up shows with B and C list celebrities making snarky comments about whatever movie, music, or celebrity is being roasted ... and I laugh.

So why ... why are my feelings so DEEPLY hurt when two separate friends of mine made snarky comments today about Mr. ThirtyWhat and I eloping to Las Vegas. Sure, they were joking. They didn't mean any harm. But still ... it's bothered me so much that's it taken the entire joy out of my day. I am so sad I sat at my desk and cried today ... and I can't tell you the last time that's happened.

It may be because today is our 13th anniversary and this is a very, very special day for us. It may be because I don't think anyone should make me feel ashamed that we eloped to Las Vegas. But no matter the reason, it has affected me very badly ... so much so that I'm considering removing my Facebook account.

The thieves are it again
Stealing my piece of mind
But they won’t win
Because my soul they’ll never find

Rhian Benson - Stealing My Peace Of Mind

The Same Conversation ... Again ...

2009-04-28T09:35:00.005-04:00

I am sick of the gossip
I am sick of the noise
I mourn for the quiet
This prattle destroys
I am sick of the laughter
So brash and so faux
And I'm so sick of hearing
Such false tales of woe
Yet I smile and I nod
Because that's what's required
While I grasp for a quip
That they'll think is inspired
And I hope that it's them
My prayer and my plea
Because if they're not to blame
Then it has to be me

Welcome to your life
There's no turning back
Even while we sleep
We will find you
Acting on your best behaviour
Turn your back on mother nature
Everybody wants to rule the world

Tears for Fears - Everybody Wants To Rule The World

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2009-03-17T13:35:00.003-04:00

Did You Know?
There are 36.5 million U.S. residents who claim Irish ancestry. That's almost nine times the population of Ireland itself. (And ThirtyWhat is proud to be one of those 36.5 million. My Mom grew up listening to my great-grandfather tell stories about coming over ... but that's a post in and of itself.)

Corned beef and cabbage is a traditional St. Patrick's Day dish. About 41.5 billion pounds and 2.6 billion pounds of U.S. beef and cabbage, respectively, were sold in 2007.(Corned beef? Yum! Cabbage? I will never be that Irish.)

Irish Soda Bread gets its name and distinctive character from the use of baking soda instead of yeast as the leavening agent. (Not from Grape Soda, as ThirtyWhat would prefer ...)

Over 100 St. Patrick's Day parades take place around the United States, but the parades in New York City and Boston are the largest. (None, however, can compare to "Whacking Day" which features Barry White.)

St. Patrick was neither Irish nor particularly religious, at least not initially. Patrick was born Maewyn Succat in 385 CE in the Welsh town of Banwen, and for the first sixteen years of his life he was an avowed pagan. (Thank God he changed his name. Can you imagine ... Happy St. Maewyn Succat Day?)

The myth that Saint Patrick drove all the snakes from Ireland into the Irish Sea is just that -- a myth! Many locals still insist that the serpents were drowned in the Irish Sea by Saint Patrick, causing their seas to be so rough. The truth, however, is that serpents where never native to Ireland. (Blaspheme! Again, I direct you to "Whacking Day.")

Our neighbors to the north in Chicago celebrate St. Patrick's Day by dyeing the Chicago River green. The tradition started in 1962. Today, 40 tons of dye is used, which keeps the river green for several hours. (Who knew? I always assumed it was just a combination of green beer and a lot of public urination.)

Guinness, the most famous of Irish dark stouts, was first brewed in Dublin Ireland in 1759. More than 1.9 billion pints of Guinness are drank around the world every year. (Not one of which is drank by ThirtyWhat. I couldn't gag a Guinness down if you paid me.)

And so, Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone. May God grant you always ... A sunbeam to warm you, a moonbeam to charm you, a sheltering angel so no one may harm you. Laughter to cheer you, faithful friends near you, and whenever you pray, for Heaven to hear you.

We're as stubborn as mules
With our blood on fire
When we ain't at Sunday mass
We'll look any man straight in his eyes and say
Kiss my Irish ass!

Flogging Molly - Kiss My Irish Ass

Damnit, I Like Grape Soda ...

2009-03-17T10:52:00.004-04:00

And so I'm back ... after a two month self-imposed hiatus. Nothing horrendous happened. I have no stories of crisis or conflict to share. I simply gave up. I felt I had nothing worthwhile to say ... and why fill the Internet with more pointless blathering?

And ... two months later ... nothing has changed. I still don't think I have anything significant to contribute. However, I'd forgotten how cathartic blogging can be. And, while I may never solve the world's problems ... maybe talking here can help solve mine. So are my motives selfish? Oh, yes ... as Sarah Palin would say, "You betcha!" But that's alright ... sometimes we need to be a little selfish.

I may have an answer for yesterday's doldrums. It seems as though I'm coming down with some sort of sinus/cold thing. It's these damned extreme weather changes that do it to me every time. But that's alright too. I have a heating pad which seemed to help the achiness ... and I have Tylenol Sinus which seems to stop the draining that was making me feel so sick ... and I have grape soda that ... well, okay it doesn't do anything. But damnit I like grape soda!

Dancing through life
No need to tough it
When you can slough it off as I do
Nothing matters
But knowing nothing matters
It's just life
So keep dancing through

Wicked - Dancing Through Life

Today, I Am the Bee Girl ...

2009-03-16T12:18:00.004-04:00

It's easy to blame others. In fact, it's probably human nature to look to others as the source of our problems. Howevever, I try to be a little more self-aware than that ... I understand that my mood today is entirely me.

I am tired. I am irritable. I have little patience. All of the day's typical little irritations are grinding on me. I feel like I'm worn thin. Is it hormonal? Is it just fatigue? Has my GFR gone south? I have no idea.

I am trying to put on a good face for everyone ... but today is not a good day. I want to go home and crawl under the covers. No ... I want to go home and play a video game and veg. I want to put on headphones and listen to the Cure. And I want it to rain. Really rain. And thunder. Long, rolling thunder like you hear in these god-forsaken nature CDs that are not relaxing me, no matter what their marketing may claim.

I am blessed ... I know that. I also know that it's the journey ... not the destination. I'm just saying that a rest stop would be nice right about now ...

And I don't understand why I sleep all day
And I start to complain that there's no rain
And all I can do is read a book to stay awake
And it rips my life away, but it's a great escape

Blind Melon - No Rain

An Open Letter to Governor Blagojevich ...

2009-01-09T16:42:00.005-04:00

Dear Governor Blagojevich:

I'm sorry. There must've been a miscommunication. We (and when I say "we" I actually mean "some Illinoisans who were not from Sangamon County") elected you to be governor of Illinois ... not governor of Cook County.

I know, I know ... it's confusing. Since you chose not to re-locate to the capital city, and since you choose to fly here when necessary, you may not be aware of the cities and towns and villages between Chicagoland and ... oh, I don't know ... the rest of the State of Illinois.

However, now that you understand that there are 101 other counties in the State of Illinois, perhaps you can start listing the initiatives that you've supported that have helped the citizens south of I-80.

There is a reason you've been impeached by the State House of Representatives. Let me assure you that it is not because members of the House would like people to be foreclosed upon. It also isn't because they are unconcerned about breast and cervical cancer. Reading your "accomplishment report" on national television did nothing to erase the unethical, dishonorable stain you've left on our state.

I do have one question for you, Governor. If you are so concerned about children and their health care needs, why did you try to shake down the Children's Memorial Hospital of Chicago? I think we needed to hear the answer to that question much more than we needed to listen to you read Tennyson.

Signed,
ThirtyWhat
Citizen of The Once and Future Great State of Illinois

PS - I think I found a more suitable Tennyson for you. This one's on me ... you're welcome.

Beautiful city, the centre and crater of European confusion,
O you with your passionate shriek for the rights of an equal humanity,
How often your Re-volution has proven but E-volution
Roll’d again back on itself in the tides of a civic insanity!

Lord Alfred Tennyson - Beautiful City

It Really IS A Wonderful Life ...

2008-12-24T09:54:00.005-04:00

Wow ... another year has passed. I was looking through the archives when it hit me ... I started blogging back in November of 2004. Can you imagine? That sounds like a lifetime ago.

Back in 2004, all three of our girls were in high school. Now one is a few short months from graduating college and another is living in Florida and working for the House of Mouse.

You know, come to think of it ... four years ago I dreamt of being able to visit the Magic Kingdom someday. Since then, thanks to our family Cast Member ... we've gone to all four parks, visited Downtown Disney, met Mickey several times, and had the best seats in the house for the electric parade and the fireworks over the castle. Man, times change, huh?

Back in 2004, Dad was still alive. There was this huge, gaping hole when he passed away ... and slowly, over the past four years, that hole has gotten smaller. Mom's moved to town and that's a blessing. She's only a mile or so away so it isn't hard to check in on her. We've found a pattern ... a niche ... and life's gotten easier.

In politics, you hear campaigns ask, "Are you better off than you were four years ago?" Well, that's hard to say. I'd say we're no worse off ... and that's a good thing. But I'm still looking forward to a new year ... a year with more wax and less wane ... a year with more health and less sickness ... a year with more snow and less ice.

And so ... Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope YOU are better off than you were four years ago... and I hope you spend tonight and every other night with people who love you and make wherever you're at feel like home.

Hello, Bedford Falls!
Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas, movie house!
Merry Christmas, Emporium!
Merry Christmas, you wonderful
old Building and Loan!
Hey! Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter!

George Bailey - It's A Wonderful Life

Governor's Mansion To Be Rebuilt As Graceland ...

2008-12-19T17:21:00.005-04:00

Gov. Rod Blagojevich said today that he "has done nothing wrong" and will not resign as governor.

"I will fight. I will fight. I will fight until I take my last breath," he said. "And I'm not going to quit a job that people hired me to do because of false accusations and a political lynch mob."

The governor said "it's kind of lonely" but asked the people of Illinois for patience.

"Afford me the same rights that you and your children have. The presumption of innocence. The right to defend yourself," he said. "I have on my side the most powerful ally there is: the truth. Besides, I have the personal knowledge that I have not done anything wrong."

... and having said that, he flipped the middle finger and said, "Fuck YOU, Fitzgerald" and slapped his ass ...

I couldn't be more proud, Illinois ... how bout you?

A little less conversation, a little more action please
All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark
Close your mouth and open up your heart
And baby satisfy me

Elvis Presley - A Little Less Conversation

R.I.P. Caylee Anthony ... You Deserved Better ...

2008-12-19T15:50:00.007-04:00

The AP has reported that DNA tests confirm the skeletal remains recently found in Orlando (only 1/3rd of a mile from the Anthony household) belong to missing toddler Caylee Anthony.

What a horrible end to a horrible story. Caylee deserved so much better. If you hate being a mother that bad, why not relinquish your parental rights to someone who would be thrilled to have a daughter? It's heartbreaking.

The only thing left to pray for is a miracle. A miracle that will cause Casey and her parents to tell the truth about what happened. There are a lot of lies being told ... and I don't believe Casey's the only one telling 'em.

Like a fish gets caught on a hook
You'll go for a line, get hit with the book
Like cop puts cuff on a crook
Baby, you'll get yours

Frank Sinatra - You'll Get Yours

I Have Been Abducted ... by Facebook ...

2008-12-11T16:44:00.003-04:00

Oh, yeah, it's official ... I am hooked. I haven't twittered ... I haven't blogged ... but I've updated my Facebook status an average of three times per day. Whoa ... it's like looking up and my head clearing from a fog ...

What all has happened since I've been gone? Let's see ...

We have a new President-elect, for whom I'm proud to say I voted. For once in a long while, I'm finally looking forward to the new year.

Our girl who moved to Orlando last year flew home to visit. The fun and sun and hard work look amazing on her ... she was healthy, happy, and beautiful. It was great having her back home.

We watched College One march in her last football game on Senior Weekend. It was sentimental and sweet ... but it was also under 30 degrees so I couldn't cry for fear of my tear ducts freezing over.

Our daughter in the Theatre Department took us to see a Halloween night performance of "Dracula." Amazing costumes ... makes my fingers ache just thinking about the sewing that went into Dracula's cape. Seriously, you wouldn't have seen better costuming in a film.

Our governor was arrested and, as much as I'd like to feign shock or surprise ... I expected as much. I'm just shocked there isn't video of him flinging poo ... I mean, this guy is only a few steps removed from being bat-shit crazy.

We've decorated our house for Christmas. Have I mentioned I love Christmas so much?! It looks like someone carpet-bombed lights around my home ... and it cheers me up every time I walk through the front door.

Mr. ThirtyWhat and I have a new show. We picked up the first season DVD set for "Mad Men" at Lincoln Library. Wow ... it started out kinda slow but I love the character development. I can't wait to find out why Don/Dick changed his identity. If you haven't watched this series, check it out. Look for episode seven, "Red In The Face." It was amazing. I've never eaten an oyster; however, this episode has guaranteed I never will.

Hmmmm, this post is a lot like those lame Christmas letters, isn't it? The ones you inevitably get from families members who are so distant that you don't know, or care, what's happened to them over the course of the last year? Well in that same spirit, that about wraps it up for the ThirtyWhat clan. Have a glass of eggnog for me ... oh, and don't forget to watch Christmas Vacation at least once before the 25th!

Where do you think you're going?
Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun,
old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no.
We're all in this together. This is a full-blown,
four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on,
and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas
since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye.

Clark Griswold - Christmas Vacation

I Finally Did It!

2008-10-30T10:05:00.002-04:00

Well, I did it ... my first attempt at a more formatted doodle. It's in kind of a comic strip format ... only a little larger and a lot less funny.

I've got a vague idea in my head of where this is going ... a small series based on the discovery that Bear is becoming a TV addict. This, is no surprise to anyone who knows Bear ... however, her office-mates are the ones who find themselves on the bad end of their hibernation-deprived ursine co-worker.

Sure, it's no JTHM ... but, then again ... what can I expect? I'm no Jhonen Vasquez.

We've got nothing better to do
Than watch TV and have a couple of brews
Don't want to talk about anything else
We don't wanna know!
We're dedicated, yes
To our favorite shows!
All My Circuits!
Everybody Loves Hypno-Toad!
Scary Door!
Blernesday Night Blernesball!
Futurama!

Futurama - TV Party Tonight
(An Homage To Black Flag's TV Party Tonight)

Think Of It As A Virtual Fridge ...

2008-10-29T12:05:00.008-04:00

You'd think having one blog would be enough, wouldn't you? Well, I guess not.

Mr. ThirtyWhat will tell you that the way I get my frustrations out is to pull out my sketch pad and draw what's on my mind. Most of the time, the doodles involve a bear ... which, as I've long ago mentioned ... represents me.

So ... I thought, what's the harm? I'll post a few of them online. Some may have explanations ... some not need explanations. After all, I'm no Picasso ... and this isn't my Blue Period.

I'm calling my new drawing nook Bear Doodles. Now, trust me when I tell you that this is no hot spot for high art or professional sketches ... it is what its name implies ... bare doodles.

Anyhow, as I said, I mainly draw just as a (very kindergarten-ish) way for me to get my thoughts or frustrations on paper ... and the new blog is a place to store them. Think of it ... as my very own virtual refrigerator ... without the kitschy magnets.

So, I suppose we should start out with an introduction ...

This ... is Bear ...

It could be simple
My hand guide my pencil
My head is a mad child scribbling circles

Rocco Deluca & The Burden - Draw

Breaking News: Stocks in Aluminum Foil Skyrocket ...

2008-10-14T10:23:00.005-04:00

Videos and messages on YouTube, blogs and UFO websites are buzzing with predictions that a vessel from the alien Federation Of Light will be visible in our skies for three days ... starting today.

... and I, for one, welcome our new alien overlords ...

For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do

David Bowie - Major Tom

Notes on a Debate ...

2008-10-08T16:50:00.006-04:00

I am not a political blogger. In fact, when I first met Mr. ThirtyWhat back in 1995, I was completely oblivious. My first experience in a voting booth was voting for Bill Clinton in 1992 ... primarily because he played the saxophone on Arsenio Hall and wore boxers. Good reasons to vote for a candidate? No. Was I a responsible voter? Probably not. But MTV told me to "Rock The Vote" ... so ... I rocked the vote.

But over the years, it's slowly sunk in. I've become political by osmosis. Mr. ThirtyWhat was pretty sneaky about it and started small ... I think with the nightly news. These days, I can't go to sleep until Keith Olbermann has finished up his debate coverage.

So last night's debate? Well, I have surface impressions. Obama came off as cool and collected. McCain came off like an angry old man. I could just picture him, as president, yelling, "Hey you kids, get off my aircraft carrier."

I can't imagine what would compel John McCain to call a fellow senator "that one" ... it was arrogant and disrespectful. And, while I hesitate to comment on his physical appearance, due to the whole POW issue Senator McCain is so painfully bashful about, he didn't look ... well. He walked hunched over ... his body language was closed off and angry. He didn't appear comfortable ... and he didn't appear presidential.

But, here's what stuck with me about the whole evening. When the debate was over, Michelle and Barak Obama walked around the hall for quite awhile shaking hands and greeting people. In fact, they stayed long after McCain and company had, as Elvis would say, "left the building."

In any case, while the Blue Team was stumping for the win, John McCain walked over and shook a few hands while his wife, Cindy, stood with her hands firmly clasped behind her back. She did not shake hands or touch anyone.

Yes, I know the story. Earlier in the race, someone apparently shook poor Cindy's hand so hard at a rally that it broke her arm. If this story is accurate, she must have the bones of a bird. No matter the case, she came across as an elitist germaphobe last night.

I realize we aren't electing Cindy McCain any more than we're electing Michelle Obama. However, these women will be the diplomatic face of our country at many events. As a woman, and a partner to my husband, the mental image didn't sit well with me that Cindy will be a political Howie Mandel, stepping back with a "Whoa, don't touch me" attitude during her first state dinner at the White House.

Again, just surface impressions ...

Listen. I just wanted to say, y'know.
Whatever presidents say y'know.
Things like, er... the name of people and er, freedom
And I dunno. Democracy, stuff like that. Woo! Come on!

Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy - Vote Beeblebrox

CafeMom Asks: Could You Change a Tire?

2008-10-07T15:42:00.007-04:00

Over at CafeMom, one of this week's journal suggestions gave me a good laugh. The topic was, "Could You Change a Tire?"

If the devil himself were standing behind me holding a spare tire and a set of lug nuts, let me assure you that car would still not be moving. There is a reason Mr. ThirtyWhat springs for the AAA membership each year ... and it's not because of the 10% discount at Amtrak.

There are a few things in life that are simply not going to happen ... and, hey, I've learned to accept this. For instance, I will never climb Mt. Everest. I'm not physically fit and the thought of doing that much walking, especially at that sort of incline, just doesn't appeal to me. And let's be frank ... I don't like to be cold ... not that I'd be climbing Mt. Everest if it were a temperate 75 degrees. No. Mountain climbing is definitely out.

Along the same lines, I will never be on Survivor. As soon as Jeff Probst dumped my ample ass out of a helicopter in the middle of nowhere, I would sit on the ground and cry ... until he took me to the nearest Outback Steakhouse. Now, Big Brother ... THAT I could do. Sit in a house for three months and gossip about other people? Oh hell yeah, sign me up. But drop me in Gabon and tell me to race my ass up a cliff so I can grab this key or raise that flag? Um ... again ... where's the nearest Outback?

Which brings us back to ... changing a tire. It's not that I don't want to change a tire. Really, I do. I believe I might be able to get a couple of lug nuts off before collapsing in a sweaty heap on the side of I-55. But, common ... what's the point? In the end, a vehicle of some sort is going to be coming ... whether it's a tow-truck or an ambulance ... I'm not leaving there of my own accord.

And ... since I'm not leaving there of my own accord ... how's a Bloomin' Onion sound?

I'm just sitting here
Watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go

John Lennon - Watching The Wheels

Baked Cod My Big White Ass

2008-09-05T22:02:00.008-04:00

I am the Amy Winehouse of food. Whereas she can't say no to crack, I apparently can't say no to junk food. Whereas Amy Winehouse fears someone posting a YouTube of her lighting a crack pipe, I fear someone posting a clip of me popping a Chicken McNugget down my gullet. I have danced with the devil in the pale moonlight ... and the devil's is a clown named Ronald.

And you know who I blame for my inglorious tumble off the health food wagon? Rachel Ray. That's right ... I'm pointing my finger at the Food Network's very own Tasmanian devil of the kitchen. Why? Here's the story ...

So we've been trying to eat healthier for awhile ... in fact Mr. ThirtyWhat hadn't had a soda in over three weeks. We decided to take the next step and expand our menu ... first try? Cod. It's mild ... low in calories ... high in protein ... how could you go wrong? Enter Rachel Ray. I found a recipe on the Food Network's website. It looked easy, sounded tasty, and had a rating of 4 1/2 out of 5 stars. How could Rachel's minions lead me astray, right?

On a scale of 1 to 10 ... ten being it tastes SO good that the gods themselves must've pooped it out .. and one being it tastes like you've been raped by an epicurean demon ... this shit was a two ... and I'm being GENEROUS!

It was so bad that after two bites, Mr. ThirtyWhat and I jointly decided to visit the Golden Arches in an attempt to wipe this abomination from our minds and the taste out of our mouths. Is it the lack of a distinguished pallet on our part? Perhaps. Maybe I'm just a red meat kind of girl.

So tomorrow we'll get back in the saddle again. Tomorrow is another day after all ... but I've learned my lesson and the last place I'll turn for advice when it comes to what goes in my stove ... is America's cooking sweetheart.

I ain't got the time
And if my Daddy thinks I'm fine
They tried to make me go to rehab
And I say no no no

Amy Winehouse - Rehab

P.S. - Where have I been for a month? Twittering! Or would that be Tweeting ... in any case ...

Best State Fair Coverage Ever ...

2008-08-07T19:27:00.003-04:00

I'm really enjoying the Channel 4 coverage of the Illinois State Fair Twilight Parade. All I can say is ... best ... year ... ever. I love it so much that I asked Mr. ThirtyWhat to take a screen shot.

Seriously? I feel bad for the guys over at cable access ... this evening had to totally suck ass. No worries, guys ... if I really wanted to see local politicians glad handing the public, I would've walked my sizable ass down to the fairgrounds. It is ... all good. But ... honestly ... it is funny as hell!

Don't think that we don't know
Don't think that we're not trying
Don't think we move too slow
It's no use after crying
Saying
It's a mistake, it's a mistake
It's a mistake, it's a mistake

Men At Work - It's A Mistake

I Watched It Fall In Bullet-Time ...

2008-08-01T14:19:00.004-04:00

What's going on with ThirtyWhat, you ask? ThirtyWhat has experienced a crushing blow which has caused her to develop, along with an apparent compulsion to speak in the third person, a neurotic aversion to touching electronic devices. What has happened?

This, my friends, is what happens when you drop a laptop from a height of about three feet. The problem, I believe, was not so much the height ... as was the corner of the coffee table it struck on the way down. What's that? You'd like a closer look? Of course.

Oh yes ... it looks like someone popped a cap in it's proverbial ass. And what is worse than this devastating accident ... is the cost to fix it. The estimate to repair my laptop, including a new LCD screen, labor, taxes, etc. is around $380. That's right ... nearly $400 for a split-second mistake.

And so, the moral of this story ... be sure your hands are dry before you pick up anything expensive. Damp or sweaty hands can be all that stands between you, your blog, and a computer repair bill that is worth approximately half the value of your item. It is, truly, enough to make me cry.

Wake up to a Sunny Day
Not a cloud up in the sky
And then it starts to rain
My defenses hit the ground
And they shatter all around
So open and exposed
But I found strength in the struggle
Face to face with my troubles

Lindsey Haun - Broken

Follow The Yellow Brick ARGH ...

2008-07-29T20:50:00.003-04:00

I haven't posted in a few weeks ... and I have much to write ... but I do have one thing I have to get off my chest ...

What in the hell is the deal with the Wizard of Oz at Rotary Park? They're showing commercials for this every 5 minutes on every channel on Comcast. I didn't even know we had a Rotary Park in Springfield ... and now I can't escape the park or it's ubiquitous advertising.

What's the angle on this thing? Free movie ... free pizza ... free refreshments? Who is paying for the advertising? I can't find anything online about it. Why are they pushing this thing as though it's the second coming of Christ?

That damned commercial is driving me nuts ...

Follow the Yellow Brick Road. Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
Follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
Follow the Yellow Brick, Follow the Yellow Brick,
Follow the Yellow Brick Road

The Wizard of Oz - We're Off To See the Wizard

Any Rock the Dock Fans Out There?

2008-07-04T13:07:00.007-04:00

Calling all Springfieldians ... I need some info ... and unfortunately, I'm going to need it in the next six to eight hours. I'm only hoping someone is out there (on the 4th of July???) reading the Springfield bloglist ...

We're wanting to see "Rock the Dock" this year ... but we've got no interest in going to the Marina to party. Now, I haven't been out on the Lake in years ... but when I was growing up, my Dad would take me out on our boat and he'd usually launch at the docks off of 6th Street. There used to be picnic tables and such further down the launch area ... and I'm pretty sure that launch is across from the Marina.

So, my question ... can you see the fireworks anywhere else off the Lake? Or do you have to go to the Marina itself? Anyone got any suggestions or ideas? We want to try something new besides the usual downtown fare. If we went to the 6th Street launch (have no idea what exit that is ... but it's before Chatham) ... could we park somewhere down there and see the fireworks?

I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy,
Yankee Doodle do or die.
A real live nephew of my Uncle Sam,
I was born on the 4th of July.
I've got a Yankee doodle sweetheart,
she's my Yankee Doodle joy.
Yankee doodle came to London,
just to ride the ponies.
Say, I am a Yankee Doodle Boy

Yankee Doodle Dandy - Yankee Doodle Boy

Not That I'd Trade ...

2008-07-02T10:41:00.007-04:00

So, I've been watching Jon & Kate + 8. It's a fascinating show on TLC giving us a peek into the daily life of the Gosselin family in Pennsylvania with a set of six-year-old twins and a set of four-year-old sextuplets. Whoa ... now there is a couple with their hands full.

Still ... as I was watching, I couldn't help thinking ... "All this on one salary?" Oh common ... they couldn't have paid for that elaborate Disney vacation ... or that skiing trip ... or the trips to Dutch Wonderland and the Crayola Factory and Hersey's Chocolate World and ... and the list goes on. What we're seeing is product placement on steroids.

I'm not denying them their right to earn a living ... even if it is off their kids' backs. Between the income from their TLC show, the product endorsements, and freebees, neither Jon nor Kate has to work outside the home. They have nannies and people who help with household chores like laundry and such. And you know what? Good for them. BUT ... if they want the show to continue being a success, they might want to consider treading lightly ...

Let's take the Disney vacation for example. Consider the expense of driving eight children to Disney World in Orlando. The trip itself would be a large chunk of change even if you're only looking at the basics of gas, food, and a couple of rooms at LaQuinta. But their trip was light years from basic.

The JK+8 brood stayed at the Animal Kingdom Lodge ... which is astronomically priced. They ate at Chef Mickey's ... had a private meet and greet with the princesses ... and, for me, the cherry ... make that cherries ... on top were the eight tiny sets of ears that were waiting for them on their beds ... already embroidered with their names when they arrived.

It makes for great television. But it doesn't take long to grasp the reality that they're you're no longer watching a "normal" family. There were no shots of them waiting 45 minutes to ride on Dumbo ... or shots of them getting eight Fast Passes for It's A Small World ... because those experiences no longer apply to them. They're VIPs now. Would anyone watch hour after hour of Kate doing laundry or the twins doing homework or the tups playing at the park? Maybe. Maybe not.

Still, I think I'd tune in just to watch and wait for one of Kate's infamous meltdowns. And, I suspect, if TLC took away the nannies and the personal trainers and the household help and the trips to Disney ... we might see a few more of those. And if you've seen her outburst at Toys R' Us, you know that is good television ...

See him drink from a bottle
See him eat from a plate
Cute cute as a button
Don't you wanna make him stay up late
And we're having fun with no money
Little smile on his face.
Don't cha' love the little baby
Don't you want to make him stay up late

Talking Heads - Stay Up Late

T.G.I.Obama

2008-07-01T10:09:00.002-04:00

This image was on Drudge Report this morning ... and I can't help noticing that ... at first glance ... it looks like they're holding a press release at TGIFriday's.

I see this picture and think ... "Wow, it looks like Barak is really digging their new "Right Price Right Portion" menu." Or maybe he goes for their Fried Mac & Cheese?

Thank God it's Friday
Party lights, Friday night feelin' right
It's a party
Thank God it's Friday
Party lights, Friday night feelin' right
It's a party

R. Kelly - Thank God It's Friday

Overcoming Time, Space, and Objections

2008-06-30T10:15:00.006-04:00

So this weekend, Mr. ThirtyWhat and I saw two movies. The first was Wall*E ... which I'm sure we'll get to later. It's the second movie I want to talk about ... because, while Wall*E was great ... it's the second movie that fascinates me ...

Last night, TCM showed (uncut and commercial-free, I might add) Jimmy Stewart's Harvey. It was the first time I've ever seen this classic 1950 movie ... and it was ... pleasant. Pleasant is a word we don't use much anymore ... but a word that fits. Because, as Elwood P. Dowd would say,

"In this world, you must be oh-so-smart or oh-so-pleasant. Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. And you may quote me."

Wouldn't it be great to live like Elwood Dowd ... assuming the best of everyone ... even when given proof of the worst. In the first half of the film, you presume he's a simple-minded drunk who just happens to hallucinate a six foot rabbit instead of a pink elephant. But by the end, you understand that Harvey isn't a symptom of his personality ... Harvey is drawn to Elwood because of his personality.

I aspire to be Elwood Dowd ... kind and generous and ... yes ... pleasant. I don't necessarily want to see a giant pooka ... but if that's what it would take to live the peaceful, charmed life of Elwood Dowd ... well, then let me give you one of my cards.

Well, I've wrestled with reality
for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state
I finally won out over it.

Elwood P. Dowd - Harvey

Rest In Peace - Tim Russert

2008-06-13T16:17:00.003-04:00

WASHINGTON - Tim Russert, NBC News’ Washington bureau chief and the moderator of “Meet the Press,” died Friday after a sudden heart attack at the bureau, NBC News said Friday. He was 58.

I really liked Tim Russert ... how very sad. Even sadder still for me ... since today is exactly three years since Dad passed away from heart failure. I guess I relate. My thoughts and prayers are with The Russert family.

If we get to see tomorrow
I hope it's worth all the wait
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

And I'll take with me the memories
To be my sunshine after the rain
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

Boyz II Men - Hard to Say Goodbye

The Kennedy Curse ...

2008-05-20T14:06:00.004-04:00

This tragic story has just hit the wires:

BOSTON - A cancerous brain tumor caused the seizure Sen. Edward M. Kennedy suffered over the weekend, doctors said Tuesday in a grim diagnosis for one of American politics' most enduring figures.

Doctors for the Massachusetts Democrat say tests conducted after Kennedy suffered a seizure this weekend show a tumor in his left parietal lobe. Preliminary results from a biopsy of the brain identified the cause of the seizure as a malignant glioma.

My prayers are with him and his family ... this has to be such a hard diagnosis to hear. I the Kennedy Curse marches on ...

I wanna be a Kennedy
I wanna be tall and handsome
I'd conquer the world
And you'd see it on television

Kill Hannah - Kennedy

Doritos New Demon Flavored Chips ...

2008-05-16T09:50:00.003-04:00

On Friday mornings, this creepy dude comes and fills our office vending machines ... and, like good little lemmings, we all run over to see what the next week's offerings will be. Today we had a few new choices ... and for one brief moment that I suspect I will regret all day ... I lost my sanity and tried something new:

"Doritos Spicy Sweet Chili"
The emphasis should be on spicy ... not sweet. Spicy. I believe I've lost 25% of my tongue ... as the tip of it is burning uncontrollably. I've drank water, Mountain Dew, and Pedialyte ... don't ask ... someone at work offered me a small, cherry-flavored bottle and I was desparate ... and nothing is helping.

For the love of God ... what did they make these with ... sulfuric acid? I believe I'm losing the power of speech ...

Burn out the day
Burn out the night
I can't see no reason to put up a fight
I'm living for giving the devil his due
And I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning for you
I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning for you

Blue Oyster Cult - I'm Burning For You

Marching Ducks ...

2008-05-08T10:43:00.003-04:00

So, it's almost Mother's Day ... and I think ... maybe ... I'm ready. We've celebrated this event with our moms in various ways over the years. Let's see ...

Mom and I have ridden up to Peoria to do the Par-A-Dice thing before. Mr. ThirtyWhat, the girls and I have hosted cookouts for both moms several years back. We've all gone to dinner. One year we did the breakfast thing. Seems like one year Dad and I maybe drove Mom down to Alton or St. Louis?

We're like everyone else, I suppose. Your plans automatically adjust based on what the kids are doing that weekend ... or based on which moms or grandmas can come at what time ... or based on if my brother decides to show up. Sigh. Life's just like that.

But this time around we're taking it easy. In the last couple years, going on these little riverboat road trips have started wearing me down. After a day trip like that, I really need a day to re-charge. If I'm not careful, I get run down ... my immune system dips ... and then ... pow. I end up sick. I'm not blaming Ameristar on my two week pneumonia experience ... but ...

Anyhow ... last year, Mom and I switched it up and went to lunch and a movie on Mother's Day. I think we even went shopping for a bit. It was a nice little change of pace ... something we'd never done before. I can't remember where we ate ... but I know we saw Georgia Rule. It was no where near the best movie I've ever seen ... but it was a chick flick. And just spending time with her was fun.

So this year, she's chosen "Baby Mama" as her flick of choice. I like Tina Fey ... I like Amy Poehler ... and ... I really like popcorn. So really ... what more could I ask for? I'm not sure where we'll do lunch ... seems like we may have gone to Lone Star last year ... maybe Fridays?

In the meantime, we need a few panels replaced on the privacy fence that goes across the driveway ... and the gate needs rebuilt. So I've got a call into our guy. Our lawn's been mowed once and now it's gone nuts. I've got dandelion stems high as an elephant's eye. Need to call our guy on that. We need to swap the battery out on the van and get it sold. I mean ... there are like 1,000 things on my plate ...

Just trying to get all these ducks in a row ...

All you life you had to stand in line
Still you're standing on your feet
All your choices made you change your mind
Now your calender's complete
Don't wait for answers
Just take your chances
Don't ask me why

Billy Joel - Don't Ask Me Why

A Few Political Thoughts ...

2008-05-07T12:08:00.003-04:00

Are you as burned out on politics as I am?

I'm no Andrea Mitchell. No one will ever ask me to be on Meet the Press nor will my blog be picked up by Huffington. I do not know the name of the minister of Kazakhstan ... and I cannot seem to stop calling Myanmar Burma. All these things mean that I will not be in the White House Press Room at any point in the foreseeable future.

That being said ...

I ... am for Hillary Clinton. This may be because I'm white ... or a woman ... or of a "certain age." Bill Clinton, God love him, can't change my age or gender or race any more than he can change his wife's. But I don't believe that's why I've been supporting her.

While I begrudgingly admit that either Democratic nominee would be a better choice than McCain ... I believe Hillary is more qualified. She has more experience ... she's more eloquent ... and, when it comes down to brass tacks ... she's a much better politician.

Now, we all want to believe in this dream scenario where a perfect, unblemished individual will step forward with no political ties or cronies ... someone who has never scratched anyone else's back or agreed to do 'em a solid. We have this fantasy that someone will stand on the Capitol steps and say, "I'm gonna clean UP this place!" ... and really mean it.

But "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" isn't reality. Statistically speaking, there should be at least one honest person ... in some public office ... somewhere. But after having dealt with local aldermen and public officials ... who are, let's face it, the lowest rung on the political ladder ... my hope for some kind of sea change is all but nil.

If Barak really is, as his supports believe, the agent of change that this country needs ... it would be the equivalent of winning the Mega Ball Lottery. Not impossible ... just highly, highly improbable.

I suppose I've become cynical enough to believe that by the time an individual reaches the highest office in the land, they're going to have to have a PHD in backscratching and bullshit. They're going to have to know which wheels to grease ... and have people with oil cans standing at the ready.

In any case ... I support Hillary. I want the chance to vote for her as president. However, again ... I'm a cynic ... and I suspect that at this point, the New York Times would need to publish photos, video, and DNA of Barak in bed with a dead girl or a live boy in order to stop his momentum.

I can see the writing on the walls ... and, unfortunately, I think the wind of change is blowing against us. I'm still rootin' for ya, Hill ...

The world closing in
Did you ever think
That we could be so close
Like brothers
The future's in the air
I can feel it everywhere
Blowing with the wind of change
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the wind of change

Scorpions - Wind of Change