I Want Wednesday

I want ... a beer. Yeah, that's it. Seeing this makes me want a Coors sooooooooo bad.

This was dumb

This is what I had for lunch ... in addition to a ham sandwich, a banana and a bottle of pop. Now I just want to curl up and take a nap.

I can do this job

I did well presenting to the client today. I was enthusiastic, flexible and engaged. Despite all the problems I face day-to-day at the agency where I work, I really like and respect my client and I think it shows in my work. I'm at my best down there with them.

10 on Tuesday -- I want another cat

Oh, I'm not getting one. I realize that having four cats would move me past Crazy Cat Lady and land me squarely into Hoarder. But that doesn't mean I don't want another cat.

As I dream about the cat I'm not getting, it makes some sort of twisted sense to decide what I'm not going to call him. Here are the 10 most popular cat names from yourpet.com. I'm not crazy about any of them.*

1) Tiger
2) Smokey
3) Kitty
4) Shadow
5) Tigger
6) Baby
7) Oreo
8) Princess
9) Angel
10) Max



*I don't know what I would name the cat I'm not getting because I'd have to meet him/her first, and since that's not going to happen, choosing a name is really impossible. It does make sense, honest.

Why do you suppose this is?

I really didn't want to go to health club today. After all, I'd just gone yesterday! But, since I know I won't be able to workout tomorrow (client presentation), I forced myself.

I started with my 32 minutes of cardio followed by work on my flabby old arms. Then, to mix it up a little, I swapped my usual hip abductor exercises with some leg extensions. And right now, hours later, I still feel so good. Satisfied the way you feel after a job well done.

So why is it that the most satisfying exercise sessions are the ones I do almost under protest?

On La Liz and l'amour

I have recently read -- and thoroughly enjoyed -- two biographies of Elizabeth Taylor. While her story is so ridiculously garish, glamorous, and over the top that at times it feels like a juicy soap opera, there is one aspect of her life I actually do (or at least, did) relate to: the way she equated drama with passion and love.

I did that once, for a decade. My friend, John, who knew me back in those days, said he believed that my long-time lover and I "had only two speeds: fighting and fucking." I believed the more fiery our clashes, the more he loved me. The more I hurt, the more I loved him. Weren't we lucky to inspire such tempestuous feelings in one another?

As I look back on those days, I shake my head. For while our "love" was all-encompassing, it was beyond unhealthy. It was sick. I don't think his feelings about me were about love or affection or even admiration -- he needed me, and then disliked how much he depended on me, and therefore had to punish me.

Yes, he was one twisted repulsivo. But it's important for me to remember that everything he did, I allowed him to do. I'm so glad I got out and eventually moved on. Not only away from him and the abuse but from the toxic POV that equated love with drama.

And who would think that pudgy little old me would have anything in common with one of the most famous, and once among the most beautiful, women in the world?

Movie Monday -- Biopics

Share movies featuring portrayals of real people and their life stories, linking back here at The Bumbles.

Here are three well-known ladies who disappeared into lives of women less familiar.

Susan Sarandon as Sister Helen Prejean in Dead Man Walking. Susan Sarandon usually plays a modern woman in touch with her own sexuality, even if she's not especially introspective. As Sister Helen, she reverses it -- playing a compassionate nun who struggles mightily to understand everyone around her, almost all of whom are in unfathomable pain, while trying to figure out the right thing to do.

Diana Ross as Billie Holiday in Lady Sings the Blues. I have been a big fan of MIss Ross' for as long as I can remember, and I'm fascinated to hear her act while she sings in this movie. She dials her own Motown/girl group exuberance way, way back and her turns at the mic take on the anesthetized quality that bespoke Lady Day's pain.

Reese Witherspoon as June Carter in Walk the Line. The comedienne from Legally Blonde and Sweet Home Alabama was replaced by a three-dimensional woman under pressure -- making her way in a competitive profession while trying to live up to the expectations of a public who believed they knew her famous family and suffering through her love for a married man. She's both a church-going mother and a serious artist, as well as a love interest, in this movie and she's awesome.

A prayer for Crazy Old Neighbor

"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."

I thought about him at church today. A lot. I know that with time, my shock and anger will fade and I'll be able to forgive him for all the destruction and hostility, and forgive myself for not being as compassionate as I could have been.

Sunday Stealing

The Player's Meme

Cheers to all of us thieves!

1. :::sniff, sniff::: Is the dog in the house? I don't have a dog, but maybe it's time to clean the litter box.

2. What is the best piece of advice you've ever received? My mother says, "There's always a good reason not to do something." Meaning if you want to procrastinate or chicken out, you can find an excuse. It's a trap I don't want to fall into.

3. What's the worst experience you've ever had involving alcohol? Ew, this is way embarrassing. Let me preface this story by saying, "It was the 80s." I was at a holiday party with a lot of coworkers. I got very drunk. A guy I barely knew and wasn't remotely interested in offered to take me home. I was impaired enough to believe that we were getting into his car and going directly to my apartment. My boss, a little older and far wiser about alcohol and men and women, observed the situation and felt his intervention was required. He said he'd take me home. Since he had Alpha status, the coworker backed off. How did I repay my boss's kindness? By puking in his car. And I wondered why I was taken more seriously as a party girl than a professional in those days! What can I say? It was the 8os!

4. What's the worst thing you've ever done to another person? We were having a terrible argument that was going to end with us breaking up, so I said something unforgivably cruel to speed the process up a bit. I mean, I left nothing but scorched earth. He deserved much better from me and I'm very sorry.

5. Who do you think started the concept of memes? Dr. Lyle Evans. He seems to have been behind many heretofore mysterious yet influential events. (It makes sense if you have been watching Mad Men this season.)

6. Give a song title or line that describes how you are feeling right now. "Go, Cubs, go! Go, Cubs, go! Hey, Chicago, what do you say? Cubs are gonna win today." It's pretty much how I feel every day between April and September. (Mark my words: Someday, God will deliver us and the feeling will take me all through October, too!)

7. What's your favorite search engine? Yahoo!, Google, Ask, Bing? or something else? Google

8. If Paul is the Cute One and John is the Smart One and George is the Quiet One and Ringo is the Funny One, which Beatle are you? At 5'2, I could be the Short One. But, after enduring 46 years of Beatlemania, I think I've earned the title of the Slavishly Devoted One.

9. The democratic government decides that, not only do we have to share our money with people who choose not to work, we also have to share our children with those who do not want to ruin their bodies with being pregnant. Which child do you give up? I don't have kids and I don't accept the premise that I'm currently sharing my money with people who choose not to work.

10. When should you procrastinate - now or later? I'll get back to you.

11. What is your favorite fast food? Little Cheeseburger from Five Guys Burgers & Fries

12. What was your favourite game as a child? Clue. I wanted to be Miss Scarlet, even if she did turn out to be the murderer. In fact, I still want to be Miss Scarlet.

13. Why terrible twos have to be terrible. I have no idea why, but this is one of my favorite ages. I love watching them exercise their assertiveness and test boundaries. You can practically see the thoughts forming before they act. Best of all, because I'm an aunt, I'm able to simply hand them back when they cease to amuse me.

14. Describe your favorite family member. My niece is 17, a senior in high school, and very ambitious about college. She's a big fan of Tim Burton's movies, George Harrison's music, and John Krasinksi's face. I'm love her intellect, independence and sense of humor.

15. What does your favorite breakfast consist of? Eggs over easy, bacon, toast and jelly, orange juice. Yum.

16. What food is better the day after it was made? Fried chicken

17. What was your last big purchase? My camera

18. When was the last time you kissed someone and really enjoyed it? My cat Charlotte was sitting on the ledge of the bathroom sink, watching carefully as I applied mascara. She was so adorably serious that I kissed the top of her head.

19. Why are there memes? Oh, who knows? Life is full of imponderables. Why do birds sing so gay, and lovers await the wake of day? Can vegetarians eat animal crackers? We may never get definitive answers to the really big mysteries of the universe.

20. Described yourself using two words that rhyme. (i.e. fuddy-duddy) Since I'm so talkative, I christen myself a cheerful earful.

21. If you were given the option of a "do-over" in life .. would you take it? Yes, see Question #4. I wish I'd never done that.

22. What movie makes (or has made) you cry? What touched you about it? Marley & Me. When the mom (Jennifer Aniston) says, "Goodbye, Clearance Puppy," and we remember how much she and Marley have been through together, I'm reminded of what fantastic friends our pets are and how much we miss them when they inevitably leave us.

23. What is one big mistake that you did in your life? And what did you do to make it right? See Question #4. I never did make it right and I'm very sorry.

24. When Life Gives You Lemons, What Do You Do With Them? I used to run them through the garbage disposal because they cleaned the mechanism and left everything smelling fresh. But since I don't have a garbage disposal anymore, I guess I'd just give the lemons back.

25. How different are you in real life as compared to the online identity you have created for yourself? I'm more honest and less guarded here.

26. Do you know what your parents would have named you if you had been born the opposite sex? I'd have been named "John" but called "Jack."

Happy 100th to you ...

Happy 100th to you, Happy 100th dear Ryan Dempster, Happy 100th to you!

Yes, this season has sucked. But even a season of bad baseball has its bright spots, and Ryan Dempster is ours this year. He just earned his landmark 100th win and it was in Milwaukee, so a lot of Cub fans were there, so that's a delight.

Demp is deservedly a fan favorite. Spirited and funny, a great Black Hawks fan, a devoted dad and humanitarian (his daughter has a rare disorder and his foundation raises money and awareness).

And no one has ever accused him of using steroids, like Cheater McCheaty Pants, aka "Why Aren't I in Jail?" aka Roger Clemens.

In all, it sucked

This past week, I mean. First Mayor Daley announced he was abandoning us. Then we learned that Crazy Old Neighbor committed suicide. The fire in Boulder came close to my best friend's home. Less personal but still upsetting: the virulent anti-Islam mood in the country.

And 9/11 is always an occasion for sober reflection.

So I did the only sensible thing. I got a mani/pedi and stopped for a margarita on the way back. The world looks better after a mani/pedia and a margarita.

What else can I say about today?

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Tell Her No

1. When was the last time that you had to tell someone that you loved, that the answer was no? A couple Sundays ago, I had to tell my nephew I wouldn't be able to play with him

2. When was the last time you visited a hospital? Last month, for my mammogram

3. If you were to start a club, what would the subject matter be, and what would you name it? We'd go to the movies, as opposed to watching on TV or computer screen, once a month, and we'd be the Cinema Supporters.

4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex? No.

5. What's the first thing you notice about the preferred sex? Hair. My first-ever crushes were Little Joe Cartwright and Sir Paul, so ever since childhood I have been drawn to men with heads of thick, shiny hair.

6. What really turns you on? A man with a great voice, soft and deep

7. What was your biggest mistake? Spending entirely too much time with the wrong man

8. Tell us something totally random about yourself. The celebrity I used to hear I looked most like was Cruise Director Julie McCoy from The Love Boat.

9. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? Damn! Guess that makes this Saturday 8.

He has a lovely smile

Leroy Jethro Gibbs, my TV boyfriend. I can't wait for the Season 8 NCIS premiere (Tuesday, 9/21).

Oh, I love this movie!

I saw Murphy's Romance at the theater and am always delighted when I can catch it on TV ... like now, since I've found it ON DEMAND. It's old-fashioned but authentic and unutterably dear. The romantic in me has been hoping for 25 years that I'll find a Murphy of my own to melt me.



I even love the Carole King song over the closing credits: "You kissed me like a lover and loved me like a friend and I'm in love for the last time." God! I'm such a sap!

"We call God different names, but we remain one nation"

"I've got Muslims who are fighting in Afghanistan. In the uniform of the United States armed services. They're out there putting their lives on the line for us. And we've got to make sure that we are crystal clear for our sakes and their sakes: They are Americans. And we honor their service. We don't differentiate between them and us: It's just us."

Now THIS is the man I cheered for in Grant Park on Election Night, 2008. I am so proud of my President right now.

TOO CUTE!

There, sitting on my hand, is a completely perfect .17 oz bottle of Lovely perfume. It's just a shade under 2" tall. I am in love with it. Isn't eBay great?

My oldest friend once gave me a card that reads, "You mean shopping for more useless crap isn't the meaning of life?"

I understand the sentiment. But when the useless crap makes me this happy, I forgive myself.

I'm going to miss him so

Da Mare, of course. There are some who underestimated him, at their own peril, of course, because he appeared so unpolished. They seldom made that mistake twice.

My favorite in this montage is his assessment of Rod Blagojevich, which was, "cuckoo."

I'm stylin'

Today I'm wearing my new Old Navy cardigan for the first time, with a white t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans (also Old Navy). I love it because I got it on sale for less than $20, and because I know I can pair it with a black t-shirt and slacks and wear it when I present to the client. To borrow from the Lads, "And you know that can't be bad."

Like iron filings to a magnet

That's an apt description of how strongly crazies seem, at times, to be drawn to this humble little blog. Take yesterday, for example.

Back in January, 9 months ago, I did an impassioned post about convicted double murderer Betty Broderick. I wrote it that day because this woman was top of mind due to her parole hearing. I presented her story as I saw it -- including the undisputed fact that she shot her ex-husband and his new wife five times as they slept in their own bed, in their own house, before dawn on a Sunday morning. In case I wasn't fair or balanced in my depiction of this homicidal sociopath, I included this link to CNN for their coverage of the parole hearing.

Yesterday, out of the blue, I got a pedantic little comment on my post from a complete stranger, who somehow felt that a sunny September day was the appropriate time to tell me that "emotion (sic) abuse is very real" and that, "People should not judge someone till they have walked in their shoes."

Now, really, if you are a regular reader of this blog, you know I don't need to be told that emotional abuse is real. How pretentious, offensive and intrusive of her!

She not only came back and commented again, she devoted a post on her own blog to our exchange! She wrote that, with her own fearless stand defending this murderer, she knows she can expect "nasty messages from crazy, unreasonable people." Huh? What? I suppose that if you troll the internet and leave clueless, unsolicited comments for strangers, then I guess you can expect messages. I hardly see her as the victim of our exchange.

In fact, I don't see any victims of our exchange. I just composed this post because I have heard many of you say you wish you got more comments on your own blogs. Read this post, and then be careful what you wish for! (And Heather, you really don't need to leave yet another comment explaining your Betty-as-victim stance, either. I'm not interested in pursuing a correspondence with you.)

WARNING: Before you visit her to read about how "unglued" I became yesterday, you should know her blog is called "A Betty Broderick Obsession." It's certainly your right to check her post about me, as well as our our exchange on my January post, but I wonder about directing you all to a blog devoted to an angry woman who killed her ex-husband and his bride rather than just let the poor bastard go. I included the link to be fair to my new buddy, Heather, but you may feel life is too short to immerse yourselves in such a dark obsession.

Where is he today?

Crazy Old Neighbor, that is.

A comment on yesterday's post from Vivian has inspired me to actually articulate this tragedy in terms of my personal faith. Of course I'm not contradicting Vivian, I'm just putting my beliefs into words because language is my best friend when I'm trying to work through confusing stuff like this.

Crazy Old Neighbor is in Heaven, I have no doubts about that. Now that he's back with God, he's restored to the person he was when he was at his best. ("Even if," my friend Kathleen said, "that means he'll be 3 years old for eternity.")

There's plenty of evidence of his racism and misogyny. He was certainly hateful of his neighbors. He had no job anymore, his finances were fragile, and he had no family. He could not have been happy in the life he was living.

But even though he wasn't living his life in God's design, he was still God's child. Now that he's back with his Father, I believe Crazy Old Neighbor has finally found the serenity that escaped him in life.

RIP

Crazy Old Neighbor committed suicide. Probably over the long weekend. His body was discovered this evening, when one of his neighbors called the police to complain about the smell. I'm told it was an incredibly foul smell.

I am sorry that his life took such a hateful turn. I am told he was alone, with no friends or family, limited income and lots of money trouble. But I am also sorry that he held our whole building hostage with his destructive impulses.

Even the way he ended his life was selfish.

And yet I feel compassion for how desperate he must have felt.

I say this with all sincerity -- Rest in peace.

I Want Wednesday

I want to actually finish this one. I'm playing around with a novel, a creative writing exercise for my own amusement and to cleanse my palate after writing all these financial marketing ads. I do this every year, and by December 1, I abandon it, always amazed how I barely made a dent in the story I was trying to tell.

This says it better than I ever could

Daley a father figure for Chicago

Daley was the dad.

Good dad. Bad dad. The man we've loved to hate and the one we've depended on more than we like to admit.

Go ahead, curse him. It's fashionable, and often deserved.

He throws tantrums. He plays favorites. He is not cool. He has screwed up some things big-time. Disobey him at your peril.

But for years, all we've had to do is look around the neighborhood — Detroit, St. Louis, Cleveland — to see that we've been lucky to have a guy like him running our household.

While other cities stumbled and fumbled into the new millennium, Mayor Richard M. Daley led.

He led Chicago far and fast, and if he did it for pride and power, he also did it for love.

He hasn't done it alone, and he certainly hasn't done it perfectly, but in his 21-year tenure, Chicago has turned into the great city it used to only think it was.

I say this as someone who has lived many other places and lived here for 25 years. When I arrived, Chicago was dirty, viciously racist, tired.

Under Daley, and in important ways because of him, the city got better. It seemed, physically and spiritually, to get brighter.

It's no surprise then that when Daley announced Tuesday that he wouldn't run again, you could practically feel the tectonic plates shift beneath the Loop.

"Simply put," he said at a news conference, "it's time. Time for me, it's time for Chicago to move on."

He's right. It's time, for him and for the rest of us.

He's 68. The city budget is a shambles. His popularity is down. His wife, Maggie, who stood next to him Tuesday, leaning on a crutch, is living with cancer.

He seems to have sensed, in the words of the old Michelle Shocked song, "The secret to a long life is knowing when it's time to go."

Opinions quickly fell into two camps.

One: Good riddance.

The other: OMG. What now?

Even the "good riddance" people have to be worried about what now.

Today's college freshmen weren't even born when Daley took office 21 years ago.

They take for granted the gleaming skyscrapers, the clean streets, the green roofs, Chicago's prominence in the world.

And if they also take for granted the troubled schools, the gangs and guns, the cronyism and corruption, it's important to remember that Daley's failure wasn't inventing those, it was failing to fix them.

Go ahead, argue. That's part of living in this vast, messy town. Chicago feels like family. We argue, loudly.

And one reason Chicago feels like family — I've lived in cities that don't — is that for 21 years, the same guy has been head of the clan, like his father was before.

In deep, subtle ways, the fact that Chicago has been a family-run operation has provided a sense of connection and security. I don't mean security in all its forms; we all know the unemployment rate and the crime stats. I'm not arguing that patronage is good.

But Chicago feels grounded in a way few cities do, connected to itself in a rare way, in part because it has been run by someone who has the city in his history and his bones and his heart.

Cities, like people, go through phases. This has been a good phase for Chicago. We may not appreciate how good until later.

mschmich@tribune.com

10 on Tuesday

On my mind right now:

1) According to the new Liz Taylor bio I'm reading, I'm now about the size she was when this photo was taken. This does not make me happy.

2) Which is why I am going to adhere strictly to my Daily Plate caloric restrictions. I finally get it -- when I "cheat," the only one who gets hurt is me.

3) I love listening to Diana Ross, especially when she sings sad songs. ("Touch Me in the Morning" just came on.)

4) My old boyfriend's wife just disclosed that her favorite TV show is Castle. Truly, thanks to her Facebook page, I feel like I know her better than I ever knew him ... and while I've never met her, I was intimate with him (at least physically). This amuses me.

5) It bothers me how Islamaphobic this country has become.

6) I think Joran Van Der Sloot is the most evil human being I have ever seen.

7) As opposed to Mark David Chapman, who is simply a sick, sick puppy. Which is not to say I'm sorry he was denied parole for the cold-blooded murder of John Lennon. Prison is right where he belongs. I am just differentiating between "damaged" and "irretrievably broken."

8) I had a very vivid dream that my boss was laid off and I can't stop thinking about it. I suspect it's because I subconsciously and very guiltily want it to happen.

9) I'm thinking of taking my living room stereo (receiver, tape deck, CD player and two speakers) to Goodwill and replacing it with a boombox. It would free up a lot of room and I really listen to music mostly on the go through headphones.

10) I feel as though both Mayor Daley and Lou Piniella have abandoned ME personally, which could be why my shrink tells me I have Daddy Issues.

I hate this news

I have always liked Mayor Richard M. Daley. Since 9/11, I have loved him. He keeps us safe. It's not the Federal Government that provides the officers who board trains with bomb-sniffing dogs or patrol the Chicago River in Police Boats when there are rumors of a terror threat. Mayor Daley makes sure they're there. HE is this city's first and best defense against attack, and right now, I feel rather vulnerable knowing he won't be looking out for us ever more.

I AM pretty neat, aren't I?

The aunt I recently reconnected with through Facebook has been sending me information about relatives on that side of the family. It means a lot to me because I miss my Grandpa (her dad) very much and I have loved reminiscing about him and learning more about him.

Tucked into all this stuff there's been the odd photo or bit of info about my own dad, a complicated and bitter man who had pretty much alienated everyone by the time he died. So it was very stirring to see pictures of him as a proud young man -- still in his teens, so a kid, really -- in his Navy blues, heading off to Korea. Or happily standing up in his older brother's wedding. Or posing in the yard of my grandpa's house, his hands on the shoulders of his baby sister, my aunt (now a grandmother herself), when she must have been in first or second grade.

I thanked her for this little glimpse at my dad before he became the toxic, angry man I knew. It helps me round out my picture of him, to see his life in full. I wrote that looking at the photos of him then, knowing how his story would end, fills me with compassion for him. Which is a much better feeling than the anger I know my sisters, my mom and I all frequently still battle."

In response she wrote: "You did your best for your family and you're entitled to hard feelings. You also took the best you could from a bad, sad situation and have become a smart, witty, accomplished, and wise woman. I could not be prouder of you." I keep staring at those words. They mean a lot to me.

Telethon Update

So far I have only watched about an hour since the MDA Telethon began last night, but it seems the noteworthy factor this year is hair. Jerry's is gray, Barry Manilow's is now orange, and Charo's has plastic fruit in it.

If you want to enjoy the campy showbiz spectacle that is the Jerry Lewis Telethon, you have to donate to the worthy cause. Click here for details.

Movie Monday -- Stormy Weather

Share movies featuring storms big and small, linking back here at The Bumbles.

To celebrate Hurricane Earl being less vicious than originally forecast, I'm going with storm scenes with happy endings.

Sound of Music. You know what's going on in this scene. One of the girls asks why the thunder is so loud, and Maria explains it's because the lightning said something and now the thunder has to answer back. To take the children's minds off how scary the storm is, Maria encourages them to simply remember their favorite things and then they won't feel so bad ...

Breakfast at Tiffany's. Almost as soon as Holly throws poor Cat into the alley during a storm, she regrets it and gets out of the taxi to go looking for him. Paul chases after her, and the three of them end up sharing an embrace in the rain. And I like to think they live happily ever after.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing: The Majorly Personal Meme, Part The Last

Cheers to all of us thieves!

41. What are your plans for this weekend? Sunday I'm seeing my Mom and my nephew. Monday I have ambitious plans for sorting books and going through my fall/winter clothes, while watching the Telethon and waiting for Jerry Lewis to do something over the top and offensive. It's a tradition.

42. Do you think someone might be thinking poorly about you? Why might that be? My sister. She's always mad at me for something.

42. What features don't you have that you would like on your cell? The issue really is: what features does it already have that I don't know how to use because I never bothered with the instructions?

43. How many people can comfortably sleep in your bed? Two.

44. What are you hoping happens by the end of 2010? My waistline makes a reappearance.

45. What was the last video you watched on YouTube? George and Martha were a fun couple, weren't they?



46. Would you ever agree to an open relationship with someone? No. Though after spending time with George and Martha, any relationship is scary!

47. Is there something that you could never give up? My cats.

48. Would you, (or did you) prefer a small, intimate wedding reception, or a big-scale, over-the-top reception? I'd prefer small and private.

49. What’s bothering you right now? I'm suffering a slight nose bleed. I think it's because the air is awfully dry in here. Creepy, I know, but you asked.

50. Do you hate anyone? No.

51. What were you doing at 12 am last night? Reading

52. Was this summer a good one? How warm was it where you live? It was warmer than I'd like this summer.

52. Is the last person you kissed before your current situation mad at you? I doubt it.

53. Can a man and woman be friends without having feelings for each other? If we didn't have feelings for one another, we couldn't be friends, could we? Did you mean without there being sexual attraction? Sure.

54. Do you think long distance relationships work? If you’ve had one, tell us about it. I was in one and was very happy. We spoke every day and saw each other twice a month. It suited me well, a good combination of connected and independent. But it was expensive and hard to be spontaneous.

55. Do you know why it’s called “Random Boredom“? I don't even know what it is. Sorry.

56. Do you thing that it’s always the man’s responsibility to initiate sex? No.

57. Have you ever made love while you were in the same room with another couple? No.

58. Tell us the best thing about your current or most recent S/O. He has a wonderful voice.


59. Tell us the worst thing about your current or most recent S/O. He smoked.

60. Would you write one question in today’s comments so that we could have our followers allow us to steal their questions? We’ll need at least 15. Sure.

"You would have gone ballistic"

So wrote Kathleen, in an email updating me on her condition.

She's right, I would have.

Last month she had a small lump removed from her breast, Stage 1 cancer. The procedure went well and a follow up with her oncologist was scheduled for this past week. They were to discuss treatment options. While she is, naturally, relieved that her cancer seems very manageable, she has been apprehensive for weeks about this follow up. She has heard how draining chemo and radiation can be, and Kathleen fears this. She has a high-paying, but high-stress marketing position. With one child in college and another one in high school, she worries about juggling tuitions and retirement saving. Plus, since her husband is self-employed, she is concerned about keeping her job so she can keep her comprehensive and affordable health insurance.

Also on her mind is her hair. Her full, pale brown/dark blonde curls. Her hair is her most beautiful feature and naturally she doesn't want to lose it.

So she went into this week's appointment prepared to hear more details on her options, ready to embark on the next chapter of her cancer drama. It was, therefore, disappointing to hear her doctor tell her that more tests need to be run before he was prepared to discuss treatment regimens. OK, said Kathleen, expecting to be asked to roll up her sleeve or remove her blouse, ready to surrender whatever material they needed to test.

She was disheartened when, instead, she was handed a clipboard. She had waited three weeks to give her permission to run tests on cells that had been removed last month. Now she has to wait three more weeks to find out what her course of treatment will be.

Recalling how emotional I got last summer when I had to wait forever to find out that my own suspicious mammogram really revealed nothing serious, Kathleen said, "You would have gone ballistic" hearing what she heard this past week.

Selfishly, I take a lot of comfort out of the fact that her oncologist, on staff at a world-class hospital with a reputation for excellent cancer treatment, feels she can wait now until later this month to begin taking next steps. That will put her close to two months after the original procedure to remove the lump, so clearly a man who is expert in his field doesn't think her case is at all life threatening. This lack of urgency is important to me because I don't want to lose her.

But for her, I am angry. Because her case seems to be rather run of the mill, I am not sure her care givers are managing her expectations the way they should. To them, I suspect, she's just a file folder with a name on it. But she's a woman who is scared -- frightened of losing her health care, her stamina, and her lush, beautiful curls.

The Recession hits a little close to home

Like next door.

My next door neighbors were medical students (or maybe interns). Very unfriendly. Not hostile, but definitely not interested in speaking to anyone (or holding the elevator). They moved out in July. I thought they were renters and their lease was up.

They were owners and they abandoned the property.

That unit has 1BR, mine has 2. But still, I'd hate to be trying to sell now with a foreclosure right next door. Not good for the value of my property, you know?

Neither are the hijinks of Crazy Old Neighbor.

While this makes me unhappy, I'm trying to keep it in perspective. I plan on paying this place off and living here until my niece sells it out from under me and uses to the proceeds to have her drooling aunt institutionalized. Hopefully by then, the economy will have recovered somewhat and the contents of this post will be nothing but a vague memory.

What's wrong with these photos?

Photo on the left -- Why would Mad Men's 1960s-era advertising exec Don Draper be holding a cell phone?

Photo on the right -- There isn't anything wrong with this photo. Not a blessed thing.

Thank you, Daily Mail. And that's not just some superficial way of giving you photo credit. I mean it. Thank you, from the bottom of my lusty little heart.

Keeping me company at the laundromat

I am thoroughly enjoying, Furious Love, the biography of the Taylor-Burton scandal/marriage/divorce/remarriage/divorce drama. I especially appreciated it this afternoon while I was stuck, once again, at the laundromat.
There is something wonderful about doing something so freaking ordinary -- eating a Wendy's hamburger as I watch my clothes go round and round in the dryer -- while keeping company with a woman who bounced from homes in Celigny and Gstaad to the Dorchester to her yacht … who partied with Noel Coward and Maria Callas and Peter O'Toole and Warren Beatty and John Huston … who can pair her 30+k diamond ring with her 69.42k diamond pendant …

Sure, LaLiz may have had eight marriages to seven men, but it's not like I'm not worldly-wise in my own way. I know when it's better to use the front loader.

I've become a voyeur

That's me. I've morphed into Jimmy Stewart from Rear Window. But instead of watching my neighbors through binoculars, I have been peering into the life of a former lover and his wife through Facebook.

He and I had an energetic and charged relationship about 10 years ago. There was no hope for a conventional future for us -- he's 12 years my junior and wanted eventually to settle down and have a family and that was never going to happen with me. But I was different from the girls he'd been seeing -- more independent and perhaps a bit more free-thinking. He was interested in trying his hand at theater -- both acting and set design -- as well as voice-over work, in addition to the lucrative computer animation he was good at. He was not yet 30 and had not decided what all he wanted to do. He felt he had time. The woman he was involved with, Debbie, felt 30 was a ripe old age and she was ready for a wedding and babies. I think our fling was a response to the pressure he was feeling.

We broke up the summer he turned 30 and was laid off, the two major events happening within weeks. He sublet his apartment and moved to another state, crashing briefly with his brother and sister-in-law. We exchanged letters and visited one another -- he came here and I went there exactly once. But by Halloween we were done. Without the centrifugal force of sex, there wasn't much holding us together.

I never met the girl he eventually married, but I feel I know her from her Facebook page. They have a year-old son, nicknamed Koala. They are both very active in community theater and she is popular among the company for her chicken meatballs over white rice. They ride bikes together as a family, and in a concession to motherhood she's sold her beloved scooter.

She seems really nice. But she wants another baby.

She ran into her ex-husband and in the five years they have been apart, he not only remarried and had a child but has another on the way. This makes her very blue because her ex not only never wanted children with her, but her husband (my ex) has made it clear that Koala is the only baby he wants. She's trying to change his mind, but doesn't seem to be having much success. One of her recent posts said, "Trying means more than saying you'll try. Trying means you actually have to TRY!"

She posts several times every day, so the story keeps moving at a brisk pace. That's just how it feels. And he's not my lover anymore, I see him through her eyes now, and her continuing saga holds my interest. I hope they live happily ever after.