Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Magic Number: 4


Kerry Wood gets the save against the Brewers. Is there anyone more exciting to watch in a clutch situation than Kerry Wood? I thought not.

Go, Cubs, Go!

DAY 16 -- September Fitness Challenge

So I didn't work out today. And maybe I did have a sliver of brownie (with chocolate chips) at the focus group I attended after work. BUT today wasn't a total loss.

At lunch today I had fruit salad for dessert, and for dinner I substituted yogurt for dessert. Instead of Coke, I had a V8 Vfusion. So I'm still awarding myself a jump rope. (I am, after all, the sole arbiter of such things here in Galtopia.)

No sister of mine

I admit that I, too, am fascinated by Sarah Palin. I'm fascinated by Paris Hilton, too, in that both women have become phenomena and yet have lives that bear no resemblance to the one I live.

Now I know that comparison isn't fair to Gov. Palin, since she has accomplished much in the career she has built, and Paris Hilton is, well, Paris Hilton. But the premise still works in that I find both women completely unrelatable.

Gov. Palin believes that I should be taxed less so I can hang on to more of my own money, since I know better how to spend it than the US Government does.

Gov. Palin opposes gun control because she believes that, as an adult American, I have a right to carry and use a weapon.

Yet Gov. Palin doesn't feel women should be left alone to make reproductive decisions about our own bodies (even in the instance of rape and incest).

I'm sorry, but I don't understand her reasoning and resent her conclusion. As a woman of faith, I resent the way she believes her relationship with her Lord is somehow so superior to mine that is should be legislated.

I sincerely hope that she is never in a position to appoint Supreme Court justices. I also sincerely hope that the press attention on her abates, now that Lehman Brothers and Merrill Lynch have turned the focus back to the economy.

A nice, round, MAGIC number

Any combination of 6 Cub wins and Brewer losses, and first place in the NL East belongs to the Chicago Cubs exclusively. How cool is it that we're about to embark on a homestand against none other than Milwaukee!

Have I mentioned lately which team it is that has the best record in the league?

I love Lou Pinella. He reminds me of Leo Durocher, the Cubs' manager when I was a little girl. Charismatic, old and alternately funny and grumpy. I don't mean that in a negative way. Not at all. Charismatic, old and alternately funny and grumpy is exactly what we need at the helm.

I discovered her a little late, but I'm glad I found her all the same

Dusty Springfield, that is. I grew up thinking of her as the blonde who sang "Son of a Preacher Man." Oh, and I loved her ultimate 1960s look. All teased hair and fake lashes. She and Michelle Phillips defined 1960s fashion for me. Really, that's all I knew of her.

After her death in 1999, I heard "Brand New Me" for the first time during a radio tribute and had to have it. I found it on a Greatest Hits cassette in the sale bin at Coconuts. Since then, I've been listening to her more and more. As I write this, I'm downloading Dusty in Memphis and am soooo loving it.

A friend gave me a Dusty biography and I may still have it around somewhere. But maybe all I need to know about her is in her music. She had such a terrific voice and used it in such an empathic way. There's longing and suffering and joy and wisdom in that voice.

Sights seen

My commutes to and from work Monday were ... memorable.

The el has become more and more crowded as the gas prices go up and people choose to leave their cars at home. This makes it hard for me to get a seat, and when I'm standing it's harder for me to read, so I'm left to pay attention to my fellow commuters. Again, today they were memorable.

This morning a HUGELY pregnant young woman squeezed on board an already crowded train. She looked so tired as she was starting her day. One of the healthy young men in the designated Priority Seats got up and let her sit, while others in in Priority Seats look away from the scene sheepishly.

This evening I saw a hooker in skinny jeans pick up a john in very baggy pants. It was hard for me not to see since she was seated, I was standing in front of her, and he was behind me. I wriggled out of the way so he could stand in front of her, which put his crotch about even with her face. She was eating a Tootsie Roll pop in a very Phoebe Cates/Fast Times in Ridgemont High kinda way and he stared at her soulfully. This went on for several stops. Finally she said, "next stop." The only words either of them spoke. The woman I was standing in front of rolled her eyes and I had such a difficult time stifling a laugh. I mean, it was the most completely ridiculous situation! As the train pulled away from the platform, I saw them talking. Negotiating the price, I guess. I suppose I always knew things like this happened, but I never witnessed it, up close (way too up close) and personal before. I was actually afraid that he was going to unzip right then and there. I'm no prude, but I'm still creeped out. It was so totally unsexy that I'm sorry I saw it. I felt like running away from the train, shrieking like Blanche Barrow in Bonnie & Clyde, "My eyes! My eyes!"