I tried it. Didn't like it.

I have given the new Jay Leno Show a half hour and you know what? It's not that funny. Sorry, Jay.

Sounds good, but I'm not sure I agree

To play yourself, click here.

To see how you compare to Kwizgiver, click here.

The 09 Season Is Over, & I Never Got to See Him Play

"He" of course is my beloved future Hall of Famer, #31, Greg Maddux. I saw his number retired twice, first at Wrigley Field (where it flies beneath the number of my Grandma's all-time favorite Cub) and then at Turner Field in Atlanta. (He's one of only 8 players in history to have his number retired by 2 teams.) But on this bright autumn afternoon, I feel it keenly that I never got to see him "paint the corners" this season.

Wherever you are, Professor, this Gal misses you.

"I Want" Wednesday

What do you want to do dress up as and do for Halloween?

I'm not dressing up for Halloween, though I suppose I could just get into costume and wander around the house. I'm feeling very sitcom-y so ...

I want to dress up as Lucy Riccardo.

As someone once said, "I love Lucy."

To play "I Want" Wednesday, click here.

That was one long day

Up at 4:30. On an Amtrak train by 7:00. Client meetings at 10:00 and 1:00. Back home at 6:30. Asleep on the sofa by 8:00. Awake again at 12:30. My living room looks like an episode of A&E's Hoarders.

The highlight of the day was the train ride. It's cheaper for my client than driving would be (we're reimbursed for gas by the mile). Even if I was still comfortable enough behind the wheel to take a company car, there's no reason for 4 of us to go down, each in our own car. Besides, I like my alone time.

Monday Movie Meme: Daddio

Share movies featuring Dads and then link back here at The Bumbles. And don't forget to visit your fellow participants!

The Bumbles already mentioned my favorite screen dad, Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. What a genuine hero Atticus is! There are still a couple that I really loved:


Juno (2007). "Mac" MacGuff is Juno's loving, accepting father. Remember that scene at the kitchen table? He advises his daughter to find someone who loves her for who she is, no matter what. "The right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass." He tells her she that no matter what happens with her romantic life, she'll always have him ("your old D-A-D") to love and support her. How great a dad is that?

Shenandoah (1965). James Stewart is Charlie Anderson, a cantankerous widower with a passel of kids who is trying very hard to stay out of the Civil War. He's not pro-slavery, just the opposite, but he's a pacifist who sees no good coming from his involvement in a war that he fears could harm his sons. My favorite scene is toward the end, when he explains the toll the war has taken to his late wife Martha. Standing at her grave, he tells Martha who from their family will be joining her soon. You realize how much he misses her, how heavy this load has been for him, and how important keeping the children safe has been. Tissues, please!

A lovely afternoon

Spent the afternoon with my nephew, celebrating his 10th birthday. He was most pleased by the WII game I gave him, along with a Harry Potter scarf and a stuffed turtle to add to his collection of plush friends. We had baseball decorated cupcakes and watched the final Cub game of the season together. He's a happy little guy and we had a very nice time.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing: The Starrlight Meme

1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth? Vitamins

2. Where was your profile picture taken? Hollywood & Vine, of course!

3. Can you play Guitar Hero? I'm sure I can, but I have never tried.

4. Name someone who made you laugh today. What was it about? Well, it's not even 8:00 AM yet. But a radio commentator encouraged the Cubs to spend the off-season trying to unload Milton Bradley. She was asked what she thought we could get. "Take anything. A bag of balls. Anything!"

5. How late did you stay up last night and why? Only 10:30. I wasn't feeling that great yesterday.

6. If you could move somewhere else where would you and why? I wouldn't leave this area. How could I desert Chicago after the Olympic snub? If I had unlimited cash, I'd like to live in a luxury high rise with a doorman. "Let me get the door for you, Ms. Gal." "Thank you, Rodney!"

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks? Not that I recall. So if I was, it wasn't a great kiss.

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you? Kathleen lives just a few blocks away.

9. Do you believe ex's can be friends? With benefits? It's funny, but two of my exes maintained that we should stay friends, but then their new womenfolk put the kabosh on it.

10. Do you like Dr. Pepper? Yes.

11. When was the last time you cried really hard? Really hard as opposed to just sniveling? Watching a rerun of the original Incredible Journey. When Bodger comes over the hill and is reunited with his boy.

12. Who took your profile picture? One of my many fans. They also maintain my star and keep it free of heel scuffs and gum.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of? My nephew, Nick.

14. Was yesterday better than today? Why? No. Today will be better. It's sunny and, since it's not eve 8:00 AM yet, it's still full of opportunity.

15. Can you live a day without TV? No. Nor would I want to.

16. Are you upset about anything now? Just that I completely wasted yesterday.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it? Of course! We always learn lessons. Painful lessons, perhaps, but necessary.

18. Are you a bad influence? In ways. I have an unconventional life view.

19. Night out or night in? I like my own company, so I'd rather have a night in alone than a night out with people I don't really care for.

20. What items could you not go without during the day? TV, Internet, iPod, books, moisturizer.

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? I don't recall.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say? The headline is "Theater Dates." It's from my friend, Barb, letting me know what we're going to see and when.

23. How do you feel about your life right now? I'm pretty happy.

24. Do you hate anyone? Not really.

25. If we were to look in your Facebook inbox, what would we find? I don't know. I don't check it very often.

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass? Yes.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before? NO! Nor should they!

28. What song is stuck in your head? "Where Do You Start" from Babs' new CD.

29. Someone knocks on your window at 2 a.m., whom do you want it to be? My best friend.

30. Do you (or did you) want to have grandkids before you’re 50? Never really thought about it. Children, yes. Grandchildren? Never crossed my mind.

31. Tell us your Saturday night. I thought I answered this. See #5.

32. Do you think too much or too little? Too much. I overthink everything.

33. Do you smile a lot? Yes. I'm generally a happy old gal.

Lazy day

Why am I soooo damn tired? Fatigue? Post-Olympic depression? All week I have felt tired, and today, when I had no obligations, it was blaringly obvious that I'd rather not move at all. Did a little shopping for my nephew's birthday (I picked up an official Harry Potter Gryffinder scarf) but just that trip to a local toy store and the convenience store left me wanting a nap. I promised myself I'd just lay down for a moment and woke up 3 hours later!

My home looks like A&E is about to shoot an episode of Hoarders here. I had so many things I wanted to get done this afternoon. But no, I slept it away.

It was a good time, but now it's over

There's an old song -- introduced by Liza Minnelli, I believe -- that I want the city workers to sing as they remove all the "Back the Bid" signage this weekend.

"Since you're gone and won't be mine again
There are many stars that will not shine again
Except some time deep in my reverie
You return and then I remember when
It was a good time, it was the best time
It was a party, just to be near you ..."

I mean it, Gang. I want those banners down before we all come back downtown Monday morning. Otherwise we're gonna experience a massive, ugly citywide hangover. I recommend that from today going forward, "the Bid" be treated like the 1968 Democratic Convention: "It never happened."

An important message

Breast cancer facts, as originally posted by Kwizgiver

Facts
* Every two minutes a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer.
* One woman in eight who lives to age 85 will develop breast cancer during her lifetime.
* Breast cancer is the leading cause of death in women between the ages of 40 and 55.
* Seventy percent of all breast cancers are found through breast self-exams. Not all lumps are detectable by touch. We recommend regular mammograms and monthly breast self-exams.
* Eight out of ten breast lumps are not cancerous. If you find a lump, don't panic-call your doctor for an appointment.
* Mammography is a low-dose X-ray examination that can detect breast cancer up to two years before it is large enough to be felt.
* When breast cancer is found early, the five-year survival rate is 96%. This is good news! Over 2 million breast cancer survivors are alive in America today.

Let's spread the word. Please, go forth and share these facts with another woman this month!

"That's so gay"

I asked a thirtysomething coworker to please not use that phrase when she was being derogatory. She got all defensive and said that she has "plenty of gay friends" and "it doesn't mean that." Meaning it she's not implying that something bad is something "homosexual." I said that "gay" either means "homosexual" or "happy" and her comment meant neither. She told me that "times change," meaning I'm an out of it, oversensitive old fart, but she'll try not to use it in front of me again.

Am I just an out of it, oversensitive old fart?

I feel terrible for him

Mayor Richard M. Daley is aces with me. Chicago is most emphatically not a perfect place to live, but I'd rather be here than anywhere else. He keeps it cleaner and safer than other cities of comparable size. We have reliable public transportation and a thriving arts community and museums and parks and baseball and shopping and diversity. Because he makes sure of it. He loves this city. Yes, he may unscrupulous at times and of course he plays hardball. But while he may have helped friends get wealthy, he hasn't enriched himself or his immediate family while in office. This city is the family business and he protects and nurtures it.

That's why today I feel awful for him.

He really put himself out there. Our #1 cheerleader, he insisted we all "back the bid." He called in important favors from Washington DC. Seeing Chicago eliminated first has to feel personal and I hate how crappy he must feel right now.

I believe her

I believe Mackenzie Phillips was sexually abused by her famous father. It explains her particularly sticky problems with overcoming addiction. The shame and pain she was anesthetizing must have been powerful.

That's why it bothers me that so many around her are blaming her for what happened. She's making it up ... or she's responsible for seducing him by being too "clingy" ... c'mon, if it went on for 10 years she must have enjoyed it ... how dare she sully his name when he's not here to defend himself.

This attitude, while typical (at least according to this column), is very disturbing. Why do we blame the victim? As I asked in an earlier post about Roman Polanski: how much damage are you entitled to do to others because you are talented?

The girl who "went after" Kobe Bryant was a gold digger and a whore. The kids who accused Michael Jackson were teeny-tiny scam artists. The child who was raped by Polanski is now a woman who wants to keep the past in the past, so why must poor Roman punished? Nicole Brown dressed provocatively and flaunted her sex life in her ex-husband's face, so what did she expect? Bryant, Jackson, Polanski and Simpson were all more famous, more talented and more powerful than those they victimized, and it seems the public just doesn't want to see heroes brought down.

I wonder what the impact of having the victims minimized or publicly pilloried is: Are other girls who are raped, wives who are the subjects of domestic abuse, children who are molested, less likely to step forward? That would be a tragedy. For, to paraphrase Ms. Shelton:

"The snowball affect of abuse and silence is massive. The silence is deafening."

I agree the last point is true

You Are a Poached Egg

You are a competent and successful person. You are obsessed with making sure your life is well organized and scheduled. You have an incredible sense of focus and determination. You don't let yourself make many mistakes. You are a high achiever. You like to challenge yourself, and you get great satisfaction from being the best at something. While you have high standards, you aren't really all that competitive. You only compete with yourself.

What Kind of Eggs Are You?

Glad I got to tell her

My former boss and current theater buddy Barb and I went out to a "cultural event" last night. The performance itself was pretty pretentious ... a poetry reading accompanied by a string quartet. She and I disagreed on why it was bad (I think the thespian/esteemed man of letters who did the reading was 100% ham hock, she just thought the poem blew), but agreed that the other patrons in attendance and the dinner served after were terrific (wherever I go with Barb, I know there will be good hootch!) and we agreed to attend similar events they sponsor through the end of the year.

For me, though, the best part of the evening was being able to tell Barb what a positive impact she has had on so many women's careers. She'd had a long, difficult day at work and said, "Sometimes I think my whole staff hates me." I was tempted to be a smart ass and say, "Surely not your WHOLE staff!" Instead I told her the truth ... that while working with Maggie over the summer, she credited Barb for her ability to think like a marketer, that my friend Kathleen remembers Barb's critiques of her work (good and bad) as she strives to improve, and that what professionalism I have gained over the past 12 years of so of our acquaintance I owe in large part to her.

She brushed off the praise, repeating, "Sometimes I think my whole staff hates me." But I know she heard me and I believe it made her feel better. Besides, it's true, and I should remember to praise the people in my life more often.

Atta girl

I'm listening to Babs' new album, Love Is the Answer. It's the first new music of hers that I've bought in years,* and I am enjoying it thoroughly. It's very mellow, very elegant and she is in very good voice. I'm tempted to say she sounds even better at 65+ than the decades-younger Whitney, but then, Babs didn't have to survive Bobby Brown. Besides, unlike Whitney Houston, Babs doesn't have to "come back" because she's never been away.

I've had to participate in two meetings today, and it's worn me out. (Rather uncharacteristic; I hope I'm not coming down with something ...) So a cup of tea and Babs singing a Marilyn/Alan Bergman song is just what's needed to soothe me. It's even making me wish I was in love.

Is that a Donna Karan Snuggie she's wearing on the cover?

*Since 2001, to be exact. I confirmed this at The Official Barbra Streisand Site.

But he's real, and so is what he did

If Roman Polanski were the invention of an imaginative fiction author with a gift for dialog (I'm thinking William Goldman), I might find him highly sympathetic.

Born in Paris and raised as a Catholic by his Catholic dad and Jewish mom, his family moved to Poland when Roman was still very young and the Polanskis found themselves a target when the Nazis invaded. His mother died in Auschwitz. That's enough pain for a lifetime, isn't it?

Roman proved himself a lyrical visual artist in Poland and France and came over to the USA in the 1960s. Forty years ago he became a household name for directing the movie Rosemary's Baby, and for his marriage to rising star Sharon Tate. She was slaughtered by the Manson Family, along with their nearly full-term but unborn son, Paul. The interest in that crime, and the fascination with Manson himself, has barely abated in the last 40 years. I can't even imagine how painful this is for him.

He went on to make acclaimed and classic films, including Chinatown and Tess. He also went on to give a 13-year-old girl ludes and champagne and then rape her anally. If you have the stomach to read about it, click here. He pled guilty, but escaped to Europe before he could be sentenced. He's been a fugitive for decades, living a glamorous and privileged life in overseas.

He is an old man now, and an acclaimed artist. He was arrested in Switzerland and is awaiting extradition back to the United States to face the music. As fate would cruelly have it, Susan Atkins, the woman who helped butcher Sharon Tate, died this week.

It's a compelling story and a sad one.

But it's not just a story. It all really happened. Including luring a child into a hot tub by pretending to photograph her for a fashion layout and then performing sex acts on her that she couldn't even pronounce.

Pedophilia is serial behavior. Children cannot consent to sex and we must hear their tales and obtain justice on their behalf. Roman Polanski must stand in front of a judge. It's only right. So the pleas that he be forgiven fall on my deaf ears.

Talent, even genius, can only be forgiven for so much. Abusing a child isn't covered.

Inspired silliness

Over 90 minutes and 8 emails, my best friend and I were cracking each other up with goofy, adolescent comments about men's underwear designed for lefties. Sometimes, when the whole world seems so serious, you just gotta be silly.

Well, that's over

Chicago is a great place to live. But in addition to the parks and museums and restaurants and theaters, we also have a very dark criminal past that goes well beyond Al Capone and the memorable way he chose to celebrate Valentine's Day. Leopold and Loeb, Richard Speck, John Gacy and Tylenol Killer all spring to mind.

It occurs to me that we remember the killers but not their victims. So today, as the news breaks about a conviction in the second Brown's Chicken murder trial, I choose to show a photo of the victims' families as the exited the court house.

Back in 1993, two men (kids, really) walked into a Brown's Chicken restaurant and, at closing time, herded seven workers into a walk-in refrigerator and alternately shot and stabbed them. The crime went unsolved for almost a decade. Then, in 2002, one of the killers' girlfriends had to share her horrible secret about her fella. When the case was reopened, it was discovered that one of the forward-thinking 1993 crime-scene techs saved a piece of half-eaten chicken. Technology had evolved to the point that DNA on that years-old wing could be compared to and matched with the boyfriend's. And finally, one of the creepier unsolved crimes was on its way to being solved.

It was an ugly, cowardly crime. No motive, these two turds just wanted to see if they could get away with a mass murder. I am glad they are finally behind bars and no longer wandering among decent people. I am glad these family members got to see justice done.

The Queen's Meme -- The Crazy Hospital Meme

1. What is the strangest thing that has ever happened to you in a hospital (besides your illness)? Not enough towels? No condiments? Can't get your favorite channels? Come on, you can tell me. **Or....maybe this answer doesn't involve you being the patient.** Six years ago this past June, I had a uterine fibroid embolization. Because the procedure was performed by a radiologist, the hospital did not assign me to an obstetric floor. Instead, for some reason, I was with orthopedic patients. A nurse came in and asked me what I had done and why. She'd never seen a UFE before. It did not fill me with great confidence.

2. If you had your choice of IV cocktails, what would you choose? Vicodin. I like Vicodin. May I have some, please?

3. Tell us your funniest hospital story. Before I went to the hospital to meet my new nephew (almost 10 years ago!), his older sister (then almost 7) promised to handle the introduction and tell me "everything" I needed to know about the hospital. When I got to the room, I didn't even get to hold him before she grabbed my hand and said, "Let me show you the cafeteria. They have Doritos."

4. Do you have any hospital phobias? Nope.

5. Imagine you are in bed trying to get some sleep after a long night of interruptions by the nurse on duty who would NOT stop waking you up to see if you were asleep...It is 3am. You finally get to sleep. She comes in at 3:15 and wakes you up again. What happens next? I can't even fathom this. I had the opposite problem. When I was in the hospital (see #1) I had breakthrough pain so severe it woke me up. I pressed the button to increase the dosage from the dip but it did no good. I buzzed for the nurse, and it did no good. I actually got out of bed and dragged the IV and stood in the doorway and hollered up the hall. This got their attention, and it got me scolded. Like I gave a flying fuck. Excuse me, I HURT!

6. You are stuck in the elevator with an attractive person of the opposite sex. You notice there is no wedding band. Do you strike up a conversation? If so, what is the first thing you would say? Are we at Seattle Grace, the hospital on Grey's Anatomy? If so, then we just start making out. I suspect that's why the elevators on that show are so big.

7. A very odd patient wanders into your room from the upstairs psychiatric ward. What do you do? First, let's establish what kind of odd. Dangerous, waving his privates and claiming Obama wasn't born here crazy? Or just lifelong White Sox fan crazy? If I ascertain that he's not dangerous, then we'll chat and I'll see what he wants. After all, my own train of thought has left the tracks a time or two.

Play the Queen's Meme yourself by clicking here.

Can't stop thinking about her

I saw a dead cat in the gutter yesterday afternoon. She got hit, hard, while almost making it across the busiest street in the village. Small and gray, her face was completely shmushed. I didn't mean to look because this sort of thing upsets me so. But I thought she might have been a toy or a stuffed animal and if so, I would have pulled her out of the gutter and onto the grass in case her rightful owner came back looking for her. Instead I recoiled in horror and console myself with the thought that she couldn't have suffered.

I am wrapping up The Cat Who Read Backwards, the first in the LJB series of books about Qwill and Koko (and later addition, Yum-Yum). So far this story features two murders, bloody stabbings, in fact. Yet I'm captivated by how non-cat-person Qwill becomes enamored of Koko, just as I'm more upset by the real-life sight of the dead cat than I am the gory portrayals of the fictional murder victims.

Is it any wonder I foresee the next stage of my life as Crazy Old Cat Lady?

Monday Movie Meme: School

Share movies touching upon the world of education and then link back here at The Bumbles.

Splendor in the Grass. (1961) I saw this on TV when I was in grade school. My takeaway was that if you don't have sex in the car with best-looking boy in school, you'll go crazy and your life will be blighted.

Fast Times at Ridgemont High. (1982) I love this movie because during my high school years, everything and everyone that mattered could be found at the mall.

The Breakfast Club. (1985) Ally Sheedy gave an eerily accurate portrayal of me.

Baby, I love you

Meet my new jeans: Relativity Modern Straight Leg, relaxed through the hip and thigh for a comfortable fit, classic 5-pocket styling. Petite so I don't have to hem!!!! They had been $40, marked down to $24.98. I bought two pair. I am washing them now.

This makes me happy.

Words of wisdom from the eternal Golden Boy

Redford's missive from the Fall 2009 Sundance Catalog:

We've all heard how as one ages, the time around us moves faster.

Aging has signs. One moment you're fit, you dance, you make love, you bike, you ride, you ski. And then you begin to find yourself drooling. You get in your car and put your room key in the ignition. Your rage doesn't start the car.

And so it all seems like yesterday.

The catalog seed that was sown 20 years ago was a seed with no real sureness that it would blossom forth. But it has.* It has aged gracefully. And with a new and exciting line of design and purchasing talent we are moving to a new feeling and look. I hope you enjoy our new growth.

As for me -- Where did I put my keys?


*Thanks in no small part to the Gal's consistent support.

What the hell was that?

Love Happens is one of the worst movies I've seen in a long time. It's not the performances -- Jennifer Aniston and Martin Sheen are both quite charming. It's the story, or lack thereof.

A famous self-help guru travels all the way from ... where? I don't know ... back to Seattle to teach a weeklong seminar about overcoming grief. The big plot twist/shocker couldn't happen to a best selling author in this 24-hour news cycle/Internet age. (James Frey, anyone?) We never know how our hero happened into this line of work and how he became such an expert. Jen has a difficult break up as the story opens, but she doesn't seem to agonize over it very long. This isn't in keeping with the sensitive, intuitive character she's playing. The title doesn't even really mean anything.

It's not over-the-top lunatic bad. It's just huh/what/that-doesn't-make-sense bad. Keep your money and just stay on your sofa watching the Lifetime channel. You are sure to see something just as mediocre and corny without even having to get dressed.

Today is my uncle's birthday

I mailed his card back on Monday, so he should have it by now. I hope he's having a good day. He suffers from Parkinson's, and doesn't know until each day dawns whether he'll be high functioning or not.

I love him and think of him often. So I figured today would be a good day to paint a bloggy picture of him.

He is 67 today, nearly 15 years my senior. He was a sophomore in high school when my mom asked him to be my Godfather.

He bought me my first Beatle record (Love Me Do/PS I Love You) before the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan. How do you thank someone for giving you the soundtrack to your life?

He could make me laugh harder than anybody, before or since, whether he was holding me by my feet and tickling me or telling corny jokes.

For Easter one year, he gave me a copy of this book. He hid it beneath the the floormats of his blue 1964 Mustang convertible.

He was in Viet Nam for two years. I loved getting letters from him and looked forward to seeing his handwritten "FREE" in the upper right corner instead of a stamp.

He enjoyed getting tapes from me. My grandmother bought a reel-to-reel tape recorder so he could hear our voices. But most of the family was tongue-tied, whereas I was a naturally blabby young thing. He still remembers how I updated him on Batman and Robin TV show or my school lessons. One of his fellow soldiers christened me "The Magpie."

When he came home from Viet Nam, I brought him to school for "show and tell." I still remember him sitting on the window sill of my third grade classroom, in his uniform, answering my teacher's questions about teamwork. I was so proud!

He believes that repeated exposure to Agent Orange exacerbated the Parkinson's Disease he now struggles with. If he's right, that's a sin.

Upon his return from Viet Nam, he put what money he had in real estate. By going in with an investment group for a building on Chicago's Michigan Avenue, he became a millionaire. He's very proud that he showed such exceptionally good judgement, even though he only has a high school education.

When I moved out on my own, he taught me about money. I know I probably rolled my eyes a lot when he took me to get a new stereo and pay for it on time so I could build a good credit rating. Not the sexiest of topics, you know. But now that I'm older and wiser with a 700+ FICO score and a good mortgage, I'm grateful he shared his wisdom.

A naturally gifted athlete, he tried to teach me to ski. That didn't go so well.

He once had a turtle named Dog. Or was it a tortoise? Anyway, Dog got too big and he reluctantly donated the pet to the Morton Arboretum.

He loves cats. He named his first cat Dumbo because of its ears. He currently has a very chill gray and white striped cat named Bennie. She's a blessing because she doesn't seem to mind, or even notice, the spasms he suffers on his bad days. (He frightened the new puppy he had recently and that broke his heart; that dog now lives with his stepdaughter.)

He loved the Florida Keys. As do I. Unfortunately, he can't travel anymore. So I always remember to send him a postcard when I'm down there for the holidays.

He's my mom's baby brother. It's sweet to watch to them now, the last left of their family, when they reminisce. I especially like the stories where he's the obnoxious kid brother tormenting his goody-two-shoes big sis, like when he put harmless green snakes in the clothes hamper on laundry day so my mom would reach in and ...

God bless him.

Friday Fill In

1. One week ago SEEMS LONGER AGO THAN IT ACTUALLY WAS.

2. I HAD A CRUSH ON MICHAEL LANDON when I was young.

3. Mama told me NOT TO COME. (A top 40 hit by Three Dog Night)

4. JUST BETWEEN you and me.

5. Take your time. WHAT'S YOUR HURRY?

6.THIS TOO will pass!

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to WORKING OUT, tomorrow my plans include SHOPPING and Sunday, I want to GET A MASSAGE.

To play along, click here.

I'm the center of the universe!

First, suspended Chicago Cubs dick Milton Bradley apologized to me … and all Cub fans, of course. He came here for me in the first place, after all, to finally bring fans like me a World Series Championship. Instead, alas, he behaved like a dick. He says he looks forward to better days. I believe all days will look better when the Cubs find a way to unload him and his multimillion dollar salary on some other unsuspecting team.

As if that didn't make me feel special enough, former Governor Rod Blagojevich appeared on The Daily Show last night and reassured me that everything he did, he did for me because he loves me ... and all the citizens of Illinois, of course.

No wonder I feel as though I'm the sun and everything revolves around me!

I wonder what I'd do

I'm almost done with Clara's War, Clara Kramer's memoir about hiding from the Nazis in a bunker under a neighbor's home in Poland during WWII.

As I read, it's not really trials of the families who are living in what we'd call a crawl space that really grip me. I know it's horrible: Living for years in a space where the ceiling is so low you can't even stand up … subsisting on potatoes and bread for so long that simply eating an apple gives you diarrhea ... having to use the toilet in front three families ... waiting to hear word about how your cousins, classmates and grandparents are doing, or if they're dead …

Perhaps it's too horrible. That could be why I can't relate.

Instead, it's the Becks that fascinate me. They are the German Poles who hid a total of 18 Jews -- including Clara -- under their home. They knew that if the bunker was found, the Becks would meet the same fate as Clara. Julia Beck cleaned houses and worked for Clara's family. Her husband was a big-talking anti-Semite who drank too much. Part of why the Becks were so successful in hiding the families under their home is that Beck was known to be very proud of his German heritage and so contemptuous of Jews.

Why did they do it? Because they believed in God. It seems to be that simple and that powerful. "We are in God's hands," or "It's out of our hands," made up Beck's oft-repeated refrain in response to whether all them -- upstairs and down -- would survive.

Naturally, reading this, I can't help but wonder what I'd do in the Beck's position. And I hope I never, ever have to find out.

She sounds like she lived this

I have been listening to Whitney Houston's new CD, I Look to You. She's back and I'm glad.

Her voice is deeper than I remembered, but still lush and gorgeous. She doesn't hold notes forever and ever like she did on songs like "I-ee-I-ee-I Will Always Love You," but that's OK because that showboating annoyed me. Her performances here seem more real and tempered, even enhanced, by what she's been through. For example, here are the lyrics to one of my favorite songs on the CD, "Nothin' But Love:"

I could hold on to pain but that ain't what my life's about
I ain't blaming nobody if I ain't got my stuff worked out
I got love for my self, ain't gonna regret anything I've done
I just wanna sing my song, ain't got nothin but love

Or how about "I Didn't Know My Own Strength:"

I crashed down, and I tumbled
But I did not crumble
I got through all the pain
I didn’t know my own strength
Survived my darkest hour
My faith kept me alive
I picked myself back up
Hold my head up high
I was not built to break
I didn’t know my own strength

I recall an interview with Margaret Mitchell in which she said Gone with the Wind is really about who survives and who doesn't. It's an interesting question: who is "built to break" and who isn't? Ms. Mitchell believed that Ashley was not a survivor, nor Scarlett's father, Gerald. Yet even though their styles were very different, Scarlett, Rhett and Melanie all had enough intestinal fortitude to make it no matter what. (After all, it wasn't war or hunger or deprivation that brought Melanie down, it was that her body just quit on her.)

When I was in high school, I was obsessed with Marilyn Monroe. To me, she seemed the perfect feminist cautionary tale -- "Look what happens when you live for men!" I still admire her beauty and talent, but I've outgrown her when it comes to heroines. The ladies I look up to now are the ones who weren't "built to break."

That's why I'm enjoying this CD so much. Whitney sounds like she's been to hell but she's learned from it and ain't going back.

Feeling kinda creepy

This is one of those posts where I share an unpleasant truth about myself.

Yesterday afternoon, while riding the el home, I had a very, very drunk boy as my seatmate. He smelled like booze and stale cigarette smoke. No, he REEKED of booze and stale cigarette smoke. He kept weaving and sliding in his sleep and often leaned into me. I COULD NOT STAND IT, so I woke him up so I could change my seat. I hoped I didn't hurt his feelings, but I COULD NOT STAND IT.

The part I felt bad about is this: I get off at one stop before the end of the line. I should have awakened him before I exited the train, just to make sure he got home safe. I didn't. I don't know why I didn't ... I think it's because I was so physically creeped out about myself.

This morning, while riding the el to work, I was near an entire smelly family. Mom, Dad and Baby. Sweat and cigarettes mixed with urine wafted my way. They were alert and chatting among themselves. Dad wore a lanyard and badge that showed he was an official vendor of Streetwise, the newspaper sold by Chicago's homeless. So I know they were industrious and probably doing the best they could to keep it together. Yet when I saw the pack of Newports in Mom's pocket, I wanted to yell, "Instead of cigarettes, why not buy SOAP?" But I just got up and stood by the door.

These people are my neighbors. I shouldn't be so judgemental. I am not proud of myself right now. But I want my blog to be an accurate portrait of myself at this point in my life, and this is part of who I am. (Unfortunately.)

Originally viewed over at Kwizgiver's

You Are North

Like a Viking, you are assertive, decisive, and dominant. You seek power and destroy those in your way. People admire that you are so confident and independent. You seem to have the world figured out. Sometimes you come across as pushy and aggressive... not that you mind! You like being seen as tough. You make a fairly good leader, especially in times that require grit and ruthlessness. You are a warrior.

Are You North, South, East, or West?

Blogthings: We're Not Shrinks, But We Play Them On the Internet

It just gets worse and worse

Here's the latest in the John Edwards saga, as reported today by CNN:

Edwards paid Hunter's production company $114,000 for a series of videos featuring him before and during his 2008 campaign ... Sunny Hostin, a former federal prosecutor, told CNN that if Edwards willfully failed to report payments to his mistress that could be considered campaign contributions, he could face felony charges that carry prison terms of up to five years.

"A lot of this comes down to civil penalties -- $5,000, $25,000, $50,000," Hostin said. "But there are also criminal penalties -- and when a grand jury is convened, that usually is what the prosecutors are looking for. They're looking for a criminal indictment."

I could cry out in disgust that this humiliation and stress is not something Elizabeth Edwards deserves at this time in her life … or rail about how, by his cynical and sleazy behavior, Edwards has let down the poor he championed so eloquently … or express my deep sympathy for the campaign workers and contributors who gave of themselves for a Presidential campaign that never should have been waged ...

But mostly, I guess, I'm disgusted with myself because I was not only attracted to this douchebag, I voted for ROD BLAGOJEVICH. Twice.

God, what's wrong with me?

(I know, it could be worse. I could have voted for John Edwards and been hot for Blago.)

Monday Movie Meme

This week's movie topic is all about Your Childhood Favorite...

For me, it's all about her. Julie Andrews.

Back in my long-ago childhood, movies opened at "selected theaters," (around here, that meant downtown Chicago) played there for a while, and then finally made their way to the suburbs. My first-ever movie theater experience was also my first-ever trip into the city. It was to see Mary Poppins. I not only loved the movie, I loved going downtown and the whole experience of seeing a movie in the theater. I still remember the curtains parting a little and the lights going down a bit for the coming attractions ... then the lights went dark and the curtain revealed the entire big screen ... and there it was, the skyline of London. I really was transported to a magic place.

Not long afterward, my Scout troop rented a bus and drove us downtown to see her again. Julie Andrews had gone from nanny to novice for The Sound of Music. I still associate Julie with only good things.

If you'd like to play along with Bumbles' Movie Meme, click here.