Fie on that infamous Today Show interview!

Damn the couch jumping incident with Oprah! For all that wackiness tarnished one of our most entertaining movie stars. I'm watching The Firm, and while Tom Cruise may not be a great actor, he's such a charismatic screen presence. It's hard to enjoy his movies, though, without his real-life shenanigans distracting me.

By the way, The Firm was directed by Sydney Pollack, who died last year. I loved his work and will miss him.

Sunday Stealing #19

Sunday Stealing: The "Get to Know Your Friends" Meme

1. What is your occupation right now? As of Friday, I was relieved to discover that I remain an Associate Creative Director at the agency that did not lay me off.

2. What color are your socks right now? I'm barefoot.

3. What are you listening to right now? E! Talk Soup

4. Last person you spoke to on the phone. Mom

5. How old are you today? A day older than I was yesterday

6. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV? Cubs baseball (pitchers and catchers report to training camp next week)

7. What is your favorite drink? Coca Cola Classic

8. Have you ever dyed your hair? For decades and decades and decades

9. Favorite food? Cheeseburgers

10. What is the last movie you watched? Revolutionary Road
11. Favorite day of the year? My birthday

12. How do you vent anger? Yelling and then apologizing later. I realize this isn't a productive use of my energy, and what's worse, it can be mean and hurtful, so I try to remember to remove myself, take a walk or listen to Sir Paul and drink.

13. What was your favorite toy as a child? My plush Lassie dog.

14. Living arrangements? Just me in a condo that looks like a cyclone hit it

15. What was the last thing that you cried about? I don't remember

16. Who is the friend you have had the longest? My oldest friend. We've known one another since Kindergarten.

17. What did you do last night? Unwound. Chilled. Relaxed, worry free, for the first time in months.

18. What are you most afraid of? Being in a plane crash

19. In how many areas of your country have you lived? Just only here. Chicago. The best city in the world.

20. What is your favorite flower? Hearty little marigolds.

A Sunny Saturday in Review

What I did, and what I didn't do, today, the first day all year that the mercury hit 50º!

Did Do. Went out to breakfast. Shopped, picking up jeans … and a book (for me) … and a CD (Broooooooce!) … and a DVD (The Godfather, a birthday gift for my best friend, the only person on the planet who hasn't seen it). Dropped off my receipts and forms with the accountant, and had a nice visit with her. Walked my 10,000 steps, and enjoyed every one of them. Grocery shopped. Blabbed with my mom (she's worried about my niece because she had a spat with her friends). Right now I'm watching an exceptional episode of L&O:SVU with Ellen Burstyn.

Didn't Do. Attack the paperwork. My cat Reynaldo took a year's worth of backup for my 2008 return, as well as bills that need to be paid, and God knows what else, and dumped it all on the floor. Then he dug around in it, making certain that there now is no semblence of order left at all. Why? He was bored. He was jacked up over the open windows and fresh air. He is the kitty equivalent of Marley. He is Satan's spawn. I am willing to entertain any of those explanations. Just looking at that mess makes me want to cry. Yet right now, he looks so cute, curled up like a feline fur shrimp. This is not the first time that his behavior has exhausted and exasperated me. I have come to realize that God gave me Reynaldo to teach me patience and acceptance. For my sweet boy cat is never going to change.

Saturday 9 -- Time Has Come Today

1. What time of day do you usually play Saturday 9? Before knocking off Friday night/Saturday morning.

2. At 9AM on a weekday, what are you doing? Riding the el to work, wondering how I managed to be late yet again.

3. At 9PM on any given night, what would you most like to be doing? Ideally it would be yummy to be making love. Unfortunately Don Draper doesn't really exist.

4. What is your most frequent activity online? Email

5. Is there one day of the week that seems to fly by? If yes, why? Tuesday. I'm into the rhythm of work and it's Idol night at home.

6. Do you agree that the older you get, the faster time seems to go by? Yes. I use summer as my gauge. When I was a kid, summers yawned before me, and then when I returned to school so many kids had changed over those 3 months. Now summer speeds by, just like every other season.

7. What is your favorite thing to do with free time? Crap TV. American Idol or Nancy Grace.

8. How much time do you spend alone? Would you like it to be more? Less? Alone time is very good for me. I usually only go out two or three nights a weeks, leaving me alone for four or five. That's by choice. I need the time to recharge my battery.

9. If you could spend one hour doing something what would it be? This is the toughest question! I have two answers. My dream hour would either be spent: (1) at Wrigley Field, watching the Cubs play the Cards. (Ok, watching the Cubs beat the Cards.) I'd love to be sitting there with my nine-year-old nephew, watching his face as he takes in the beauty and excitement of the game and seeing him become a fourth-generation Cub fan or (2) in uninterrupted, real-time conversation with my best friend. Now that I've suspended obsession about my own career issues, I can go back to worrying about how he's coping with his. Also, selfishly, I miss him. Everything in my world seems more manageable and makes more sense after I talk him.

Saturday 9: Time Has Come Today

It's Friday afternoon and I'm still here!

Yea!

Mr. Big just had an official meeting with all of us who are left. He set the record straight and stemmed any rumors. The cuts in this team didn't go too deep (3 let go, 2 reassigned). He believes this will be IT. Not 3 this month, 2 next month, another 5 in April. No, this is IT. (At least for the time being.)

That last one, for me, was the most important. Control over my own destiny is a BIG issue for me (just ask my poor shrink), and the waiting, the not knowing, was the worst. I am not at all good at that. It wears me out. I think I'd find it easier to be let go than just waiting to learn my fate.

But now I have a stress-free weekend ahead of me! And maybe I can even begin planning a vacation ...

Of the 3 who were let go, one gentleman completely knew it was coming, and he was pretty funny about it. "I hope they do it in the morning. I hope they do it soon." He promised his daughter he'd visit her at U of I this weekend and he wanted to be on the road before traffic got too bad. I didn't know the other two well at all, so I don't have to worry about survivor guilt kicking in tomorrow. (Sometimes that's as bad as the stress.)

Thank you to my well-wishers in the blogosphere. Sometimes I'm more candid on this blog than I am with people I see day in and day out. It was a relief to share my worries, and to receive your support in return.

It's starting up -- hot'n'heavy -- again

"We can't make it past February."

"Gary is so sure it's happening Friday, he must know something."

"I heard it will be Tuesday and it will be massive."

"Why do you think that all of a sudden they want all our timesheets in and up to date?"

I've tried to rise above it … not to listen to it … but it's getting to me and I can't sleep. The writing on the wall first appeared in October, and this week it's been becoming more and more vivid. I've been doing this for decades and I know the signs.

While I'm not in love with this job, I'm doing what I can to hang onto it because opportunities in my field are, at best, limited.

I have a cushion of savings set aside. My mortgage is paid in advance. I estimate that my tax refund will go a long way toward paying my mom's medicare supplement insurance. This is my mantra, my way of reminding myself I'm better equipped to handle this than the many, many other Americans who are in my same position.

But I'm still so freaking frightened. Especially in the wee small hours of the morning. My cat Charlotte is right here by my side, quiet and attentive. She seems to sense that I could use a little support.

Desire Under the Elms

I've been so preoccupied by my modern office drama that I neglected to post about my exposure to a classic American tragedy on Wednesday night. This Goodman production stars Brian Dennehy, who has developed quite a following for his portrayals of O'Neill heroes. (Though "hero" is an odd way to describe Ephraim.) But it was Carla Gugino who really rocked. Bold, carnal and fueled by desperation, her Abby and his Ephraim collide like two forces of nature. Young Eben can't help but be destroyed by the heat they generate.

God I love having theater like this available to me, just a half hour from my home!

I'm having a blessed day

I know because my favorite homeless gentleman told me so when I dropped some coins in his cardboard coffee cup. He's back on his plastic milk crate outside McDonald's. To say he looks fine is an overstatement, because he seems to be in fragile health. But he looks the same and he's back, trying to be upbeat and positive, wishing everyone well ... even the people who go out of their way NOT to make eye contact with him because they're embarrassed. I hope God blesses him, too.

Purloined

… once again from Kwizgiver.

NAME ONE THING

that makes you smile: my cats

that makes you cry: movies -- the first one that comes to mind is Brian's Song. ("I love Brian Piccolo, and I'd like all of you to love him too. And tonight, when you hit your knees, please ask God to love him.")

that you love to do on the weekends: go out for breakfast

that you do for only yourself: soak in the tub

that you have in your underwear drawer that's NOT underwear: ... sorry, but there isn't anything

that you do before going to sleep: reflect on how much I love Jon Hamm (Oh, to receive the "full Don Draper treatment!")

that you do within the first 15 minutes after waking: check on the cats

that's in your purse: hairbrush

that you actually LIKE to clean: the filters on my air cleaners. I'm fascinated to see all the stuff it saved me from inhaling.

that you DETEST cleaning: anything else.

that other people would find odd about you: is that I don't drive.

that you would buy if I handed you a $100 bill: the next round

that you feel you HAVE to do before you die: organize my condo!

If you play along, let me know so I can compare my answers with yours.

The Tale of the Tape

I just organized my charitable receipts for my accountant so he can get started on my tax return. Since I have all my numbers here in front of me, I wondered how I compare to my fellow Americans.

A 2007 study on giving shows how we spend our charitable dollars, and I find I'm kinda out of step. Which is OK, really. The important thing is that we each support the causes nearest to us. I just find this interesting from an anecdotal perspective. Because I'm a geek.

Nationwide breakdown of charitable giving:

60% of money donated to charities (in 2007) went to religious groups.
9% went to health-related charities.
8% went to "meeting basic needs," like food and shelter for the underprivileged.
3% went to the education.
2.75% went to "the arts."
17.25% went to "others," including the environment, animal welfare.

Here's my personal breakdown:

54% went to "others," only mine is exclusively animal welfare.
17% went to my church.
15% went to health-related charities (MDA, St. Jude's American Diabetes Assn, and Cancer Wellness Center).
9% went to kids' charities (Toys for Tots and Girls, Inc.)
5% went to "meeting basic needs," like food and shelter for the underprivileged.
4% went to "the arts," defined by me as the public library and our PBS station.
0% went to education. (Uh-oh)

How does your giving profile compare to the national average?

Show of hands, please!

Who among us hates tax time?

Just as I thought.

I don't do my taxes myself. I am just organizing everything for The Big Hand Off to my accountant. I'm going through that big envelope of medical receipts. Sooooo much paper! Sooooo fantabulously boring!

What do I have to look forward to after this? Going through that big envelope of charitable receipts.

Groan ...

Oh well, the sooner I get this done, the sooner I can hand it all off to the accountant, the sooner my return will be filed, and the sooner I'll get my check!

"I Challenge You"

That's how my across-the-hall neighbor boldly began the page on her notepad. I sat right behind her on the el this morning, but she was so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she didn't even notice me. She continued scribbling through most the ride downtown, but I can't tell you what else she wrote.

Not because I respect her privacy, mind you. Because her handwriting is too small to read from any distance.

Her husband's college-age son from a previous marriage is staying with them at least until summer -- I wonder if this has anything to do with him. She thought she might enjoy learning about wine by waiting tables in a new neighborhood restaurant known for their wine list, but her husband discouraged it, saying she has no idea how hard food service really is. Maybe it's about that ...

HEY! What else am I gonna concentrate on? Obama's been inaugurated, Blago is done for the time being, and Cubs training camp doesn't start for weeks! Oh, yeah! Thank God for American Idol!

Heads or Tails #23 -- Any Tom, Dick or Harry

This week's HoT topic is "Edge: Any Past Theme." Since 7 is my lucky number, I went to the list of past themes and chose theme #7, "Any Tom, Dick or Harry." With apologies to anyone named Harry, I am devoting this post to the first Tom and Dick that came to mind -- the forever-funny Smothers Brothers.

I literally grew up on the Brothers Smothers. In grade school, our music teacher introduced us to folk music through their albums. "Boil the Cabbage Down" was my favorite, because when Dick ended a solo but calling, "Take it, Tom," Brother Tom said, deadpan, "No," and the number comes to a screeching halt and a sibling snit ensued. (This bit still pops into my mind whenever I see musicians jamming and one calls out, "Take it!") I also remember the refrain of "Marching to Pretoria" (Pre-tor-i-a, Hurrah!) because of the Smothers Brothers Days in music class.

Then there was their TV show in the late 1960s. I watched it obsessively because anything that annoyed my father this much had to be good. (He called them the Smut Brothers.) I know the show was known for it's controversial politics, but that's not what I recall. The Smothers Brothers showcased some of the most important musicians in the world (at least in my little world) -- like the Beatles and Nancy Sinatra (whose boots were made for walking). Most of all, I remember laughing at tough-guy, deadpan cop, Office Judy, created by Bob Einstein.* A young comic named Steve Martin got his start as a writer and bit player on the old Smothers Brothers show.

So thank you, Tom and Dick, for all the laughter and joy … and so deftly introducing me to traditional music. Mom may have always liked Dick best, but Tom is the one who really cracked me up.

To play along with Heads or Tails, click here.

*Bob Einstein -- Albert Brooks' brother -- went on to create stuntman Super Dave Osbourne.

Manic Monday #21

What's the most embarrassing song on your iPod (or music collection)? La La La (If I Had You) by Bobby Sherman. "La, la, la, la, la, la. There ain't nothing in this world I couldn't do. La, la, la, la, la, la. My dreams would all come true if I had you." Dreadful, ain't it?

How much time do you spend each day in your commute? (Or if you don't work outside the house, how much time do you spend in your car or other preferred mode of transportation?) 90 minutes door to door.

What's your favorite wardrobe item and why? My darkest blue blue jeans because I can dress 'em up or dress 'em down. They go with EVERYTHING.

To play along, click here.

I think the planet could use an anger management seminar

I was born with a very bad temper. My mother loves to the tell story of a little pre-school Gal who was sentenced to solitary confinement in my bedroom. After a while, when her anger had subsided, Mom came to speak with me calmly and, perhaps, release me from captivity. She couldn't open my bedroom door. I had spent the entire time dragging my mattress, which was bigger than I was, across the room to block the entrance. As mad as she'd been at me, I was (pound for pound) madder at her.

This temper of mine is exhausting and, more often than not, makes bad situations worse. So I work very hard at keeping it under check. I am not always successful, and for that I'm sorry, but I do genuinely try so hard.

Lately I wonder if others, similarly afflicted, try at all.

Just a few examples I've encountered recently --

1) My downstairs neighbor, a peculiar older man who regularly wears shorts and dark glasses, regardless of the weather or where he is, steals sections of my newspaper every morning. Today I caught him. He denied it and started yelling at me about how sick he was of me "constantly" accusing him (he had part of my paper in his leather folder as we spoke). This wasn't "a good offense is the best defense" kinda thing. This was a "spinning out of control" kinda thing. It concerned me, as he's been known to key the cars of people who cross him. I don't have a car, which should make me more brazen, but he's so odd and crazy and mad that I really don't want to deal with him anymore. I reported him to the condo association and invite them to handle it.

2) I went up the stairs to use the restroom at a friend's house recently and could not help noticing something disturbing. The middle bedroom, the one you see first when you reach the top of the staircase, has no door. Her 19-year-old son has taken his temper out on it so many times that it can no longer be repaired, so she replaced it with a sheet on a suspension rod.

3) Yesterday, on the busy street that borders my village, I saw and heard a driver leaning on his horn, really blasting it. He wanted to make one of those coveted right turns on red, and the driver in front of him was waiting for pedestrians to cross. What did Mr. Noisy Pants want the car ahead of him to do, run people over?

I'm not unsympathetic. It really doesn't take a lot to trigger my temper, and it does take work to reign it in. But I do work at it, and these people make me ask (to borrow from Sir Paul): All the angry people, where do they all come from?

God Bless Ticketmaster

I know I'm probably in the minority on this, but I loooove using Ticketmaster. For Bruce Springsteen tickets went on sale this morning at 10:00, and by 10:07 I had my seat assignment (Section 103, Row 10).

I love Bruce. Always have, always will. But pointing and clicking is so much easier than waiting in line at the box office or hitting redial over and over again. I'm old, I'm tired. I like easy.

Besides, paying just $19.50 in shipping/handling for a face-value ticket that gets me on the lower level for THE BOSS is a bargain.

Yes, I am now entering the fourth month of worrying about my job security. Of course, it's stressful to come in every day just to feel the axe on the back of my neck. Alright, I am suffering from a vague dissatisfaction/disappointment with my entire life. Sure, it's probably not healthy that the fictional heroine I've related to the most lately is Kate Winslet/April Wheeler from Revolutionary Road. But you know what? So what! Soon it's gonna be Boss Time in Chicago and I'll be there.

Isn't the world a beautiful place this morning?

Thank you, Ticketmaster.

BROOOOCE!

Wasn't he great? Wasn't he gorgeous? Wasn't he hot?

Why did they interrupt my concert with their football game? Sigh.

Now it's back to Lucy.

So much better than football!

As someone who works in advertising, I am supposed to watch the Super Bowl. It's my duty to ooh and aah over my agency's work, and try to glean clues to the new direction from our competition.

But how can I? The Hallmark Channel is running an I Love Lucy marathon! And I do love Lucy. Right now Lucy and Ethel are performing "Friendship" while wearing identical dresses. (This doesn't end well ... Tee hee.)

Sunday Stealing #18

1) What was your dream growing up? To be Mrs. Paul McCartney.

2) What talent do you wish you had? I wish I could sing.

3) If I bought you a drink what would it be? Caipirinha. I love them, but they're too hard to mix mysef.
4) What was the last book you read? Boy Meets Girl by Meg Cabot. It was OK.

5) Worst habit? Right now, Trader Joe's mini pumpkin spice whoopee pies.

6) If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride? No. I don't have a car, and you're too big to fit in my purse.

7) What is your favorite sport? Chicago Cubs baseball. (If you have to ask, you're new here.)

8) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me? Wait patiently for us to be rescued, and hope you do the same.

9) Worst thing to ever happen to you? I wasted too much time on a relationship that was not worth it, and the expense was very high.

10) Tell me one weird fact about you. I was born at the stroke of midnight. Turns out that's legally unacceptable, so my mother got choose my birthday -- 12:01 AM, November 22.

11) What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly? It certaily would be unexpected, since I don't know you, and therefore wouldn't let you in.

12) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be? My weight.

13) Would you be my crime partner or my conscience? Depends on the circumstance.
14) Ever been arrested? No.

15) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it? Pay down my condo. I know, I know, it's dull. But I'd love to know that, no matter what happens with the economy or the job market, I won't end up living in a big old Kenmore refrigerator box on Lower Wacker Drive.

16) Favorite thing to do in your spare time? If I'm alone, indulge in mind candy TV. Or I enjoy blabbing with friends.

17) Biggest pet peeve? People who smoke right in front of the sign that says, "No smoking within 8 feet of this entrance."

18) In one word, how would you describe yourself? Independent.

19) Do you believe in/appreciate romance? Yes. In spite of it all.

20) Who wins today: Arizona or Pittsburgh? Steelers. I can, in no way, under any circumstances, cheer for any team with the name "Cardinals." It's a Cubs thing.

Saturday 9 -- Going to Pot

1. When was the last time you smoked pot? There hasn't even been a first time I smoked pot.

2. What do you think is your biggest weakness? Lack of self-discipline.

3. What is your biggest fear? Being in a plane crash.

4. Is there a particular goal that you’d like accomplish this year? Getting my household organized.

5. What do you miss most from your youth? MY WAIST!

6. What is your best physical feature? My dimples.

7. Are you very confident? Professionally, yes. Personally? Not so much.

8. Tell us about the last time you were drunk. It's not all that interesting. Met a bud for drinks after work and pounded a couple back a bit too fast. It wasn't smart, but it felt terrific. The thing of it is, it was so cold that night that the buzz wore off before I got in my front door.

9. Have you ever cheated on a lover? No.

Saturday 9: Going to Pot

These things are evil! EVIL, I tell you!

These are Trader Joe's mini pumpkin spice whoopee pies. They taste great, and smell even better. I must never, ever buy them again, for I cannot resist them.

My serenade to Blago

No jogging in too-tight spandex. No front porch press conferences. No poetry recitations. No breaking into Spanish. It was fun while it lasted, but now it's over. I miss you, Buddy. Even more, I miss the $400 I donated to your first gubernatorial campaign.*

If Dusty Springfield were here, she'd sing:

I just don't know what to do with myself
Don't know just what to do with myself
I'm so used to doing everything with you
Planning everything for two
And now that were through

I just don't know what to do with my time
Im so lonesome for you it's a crime
Going to the movie only makes me sad
Parties make me feel as bad
When I'm not with you
I just don't know what to do …

*Oh, yes I did! I'm not proud of it, but confession is good for the soul.

Suddenly it doesn't seem like such a happy miracle

The California woman who gave birth to eight babies this week -- while "only" expecting seven -- already had six kids. She has no husband, and the kids have no father -- neither legally nor biologically. All 14 of these children resulted from in-vitro. I'll leave it to others to oooh and aah over this medical miracle. Her situation confuses, appalls and depresses me.

It took a team of 46 to deliver the octuplets. Who paid for it? This woman and her family have had their share of financial problems, having abandoned a home and filed for bankruptcy recently.

What clinic would implant embryos inside a woman who already has 6 kids, all under the age of 8? Wasn't her doctor concerned about whether the woman can provide care for all these children? With so many babies -- all of whom had low birth weights, which places them at risk for serious problems ranging from lung disease to stroke to cerebral palsy -- can she see that they all get proper medical attention over the long haul?

It's easy to say that she never should have had these kids. But she did. Whose responsibility is it to see that they have a healthy, safe future? Of course it is primarily it's up to her, but I cannot possibly be the only one who questions her judgment. These helpless babies didn't ask to be born, and now that they're here, can we as a society turn our backs on them?

My biggest question -- why didn't she just adopt? If she had a burning desire to be a mother, if she has the love to give, why not lavish it on a child who is already here and in the foster care system? I live next door to a children's home and right now can see two kids, both of whom I'll wager are under 10, giving one another rides through the snow in a neon green saucer. These two are already here, I can see their breath as they play and laugh. Why not give ONE of these youngsters a forever home, instead of bringing FOURTEEN more into the world?

WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?

The cutest men and the rudest women

You can find 'em both at my health club.

Today, as I was entering the locker room area, a delightful 30-something -- looking all casual and David Cookesque (is that a word, Lisa?) with his scruffy near-beard and disheveled hair and all-white shorts/t-shirt/earbuds ensemble -- held the door for me and I fell in, if not love, then Mary Kay LeTorneau lust. Then there was the very handsome shiny/sweaty man whose dreadlocks bounced merrily as he ran his laps around the track. Sigh.

But in the women's locker room, there are women who feel that it's more important for their water bottles, iPods and hairbrushes to sit on the bench than my ass. That really makes me nuts. Or the woman today who, rather than asking me to move my gym bag, leapt over it and scared the crap out of me. I mean, I'm untying my shoes and a gazelle passes before me! Worst of all is the skinny old woman who straddles the bench and eats hardboiled eggs -- right there where, if I'm lucky, my ass has been.

Do you think that, if I ask really nice, they'll let me dress with the boys?

Where do they go? What happens to them?

Long ago I accepted the sad fact that I cannot help everyone who needs it. So I began concentrating my efforts for greater effect -- now it's a handful of charities get a check every month; I regularly take a bag of groceries to one food pantry, the one that's affiliated with my church; there's always a particular homeless person that I give change to. The thing of it is, every now and again "my" homeless guy disappears! Fortunately -- or unfortunately, I guess -- there always seems to be another to take his place.

Last Spring, it was the man by the newspaper vending machines. He was always happy, regardless of the weather. He seemed healthy enough, too, at least as well as I could tell. One day, though, he disappeared and I never saw him again. Perhaps the owners of the nail salon and Mexican carry-out place that he sat in front of asked him to move along.

More recently it's been the nearly-blind man sitting on the plastic milk crate outside of McDonald's. His health seemed far more fragile because of his oddly-spaced teeth and cloudy eyes. But he recognized me and thanked me for my spare change by saying, "Thank you. Your kindness will not be forgotten. Have a blessed day." One day I started over to him and discovered to my embarrassment that I had no change. "Don't worry. I still love you," he said. I believe he meant it. Yet this week, he's gone, too. I worry more about him. It's been so cold and he didn't seem very robust.

Today, huddled in the doorway beside where the nearly-blind man once sat, a new gentleman asked me for change so he could buy lunch. "Thank you," he said. "This is a help." His manners were so good that I have adopted him now.

But the happy man by the newspaper machines and the nearly-blind man who remembers my kindness ... Where did they go? What happened to them?

I don't think I want to know.

Would Blogthings lie?

They're right, I don't believe it. But I like hearing it anyway.

You Are Cute!

Believe it or not, you are much more attractive than you realize. You don't try too hard, and that's one of the cutest things about you. You have a vibrant glow about you, and people are drawn to your energy. You're not perfect, thank goodness. Your flaws are part of what's lovable about you.

Are You Cute or Sexy?

And a modern-day Elliott Ness shall lead them

Here's another reason why I think the Blagojevich affair should drag on and on and humiliate all citizens of Illinois, just when we should be proud that we have a favorite son in the White House.

We ALL let this happen.

The bar for impeaching a governor here is pretty low. It's not quite as easy as the legislature saying, "I don't like the cut of your gib," but it's close. We have known for a while that our governor is, in the immortal words of Mayor Daley, "cuckoo." Why didn't our lawmakers do this earlier? Why didn't we voters demand they do it?

Because, thanks to Governors Ryan, Walker and Kerner, we all just kinda figured Blago would limp out of office and then be indicted. It's what usually happens here. No big deal. At least no one is dead, not that we know of yet (see post below).

It took the spotlight on Barack Obama, and the indignation of my straight-laced sweetie-pie, Patrick Fitzgerald, for us to see that it IS a big deal. We get the government we deserve. We've all been too lax, too cynical, for too long.

As Fitzgerald pointed out, we are the Land of Lincoln. And yet a convicted pal of Blagojevich's, William Cellini, bribed and bought his way into a painting in the Lincoln Presidential Museum in Springfield. Really. Cellini appears in a portrait, commissioned by the Museum, that depicts Lincoln on the night he waits to hear of his re-election. Rumor has it Mrs. Cellini has a prominent spot in another Museum oil painting done by the same artist.

Next month is Lincoln's bicentennial. Dignitaries from all over the world will be in Springfield to honor Honest Abe. Many of them will be gazing upon the visage of a convicted felon who bribed his way into the museum. Skin-crawly, isn't it?

So I hope the country gets a good laugh out of Blago and Illinois for a good long time. We deserve it. And maybe now, finally, we'll say "enough!"

You go, Blago!

I am watching my governor on MSNBC's Rachel Maddow Show. I missed him on Nightline, but I did catch him on Good Morning, America and The Today Show and (via You Tube) The View. He's so ballsy, so fabulously full of shit, that I am actually enjoying this. He's not guilty of corruption! He's been impeached because he got free mammograms for lower income women, discounted meds for my mom, and is trying to stop Sam Zell and Tribune Company from (gasp!) tearing down Wrigley Field. The Illinois Legislature is filled with Snidley Whiplashes who twirl their mustaches and laugh as they drive the White Knight out of office!

As an Illinois citizen, taxpayer and voter, I'm not horrified by this spectacle. I'm amused. Here's why:

Blagojevich is not THAT bad. At least not by Illinois standards. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you George Ryan. He's Blagojevich's immediate predecessor, and he's in prison right now. The worst of all the charges Ryan was convicted of involves selling big-rig drivers' licenses to unqualified truckers. One of those drivers hit Rev. Scott Willis' car and quite literally incinerated the Willis' six children. Think about that -- Scott and Janet Willis lost their entire family because George Ryan financed his campaign by selling truck licenses. This happened in 1994. But now think of it in a post-9/11 world. George Ryan could have sold one of those licenses to a terrorist -- a member of Al-Queda could have been on the expressways hauling hazardous materials. Consider that next time you're stuck on the highway behind a big rig with Illinois plates.

But wait! There's more! The first time Blagojevich ran, I voted for him because he wasn't Jim Ryan. No relation to the former governor, this Ryan was pretty icky, too. For in 1985, he basked in the praise and positive press he received for prosecuting and convicting a young man named Rolando Cruz and sending him to Death Row. The crime -- kidnapping, raping and murdering a 10-year-old girl -- was brutal and disgusting. The conviction was reversed and Cruz was retried … and found guilty yet again. Only one teeny-tiny problem: Rolando Cruz was innocent, and Jim Ryan knew it. At least he knew that another man, Brian Dugan, had confessed to the murder. Ryan's assistant attorney general resigned rather than try to block Cruz' appeal, as she was ordered to. The facts came out when Cruz was exonerated and he turned around and sued DuPage County for more than $1 million dollars, and won.

So how bad is goofy hair and a potty mouth, really? Oh, I know he's going to be removed from office. I bet he ends up in prison for at least a time, too. I'm sure he will deserve it. But bribery, extortion and stupidity aren't as bad as allowing an innocent man to rot on Death Row in exchange for statewide fame, nor to allow six children from one family to burn in their car because licensing unqualified truck drivers is profitable.

It's nothing personal, but you all annoy me

It looks like juice in this coffee cup, but I spiked it with cheap vodka. Because my all my coworkers are bugging me today.

I am not their mother. Were I to have a baby, it would be a tiny pink body that weighs between 6 to 8 lbs.; it would most emphatically NOT be a gaggle of fully-grown 35 to 50 year olds.

We began this project last Friday. I won't bore you with the details, but it's not bone crushingly difficult. My boss said back then he wanted to see something "mid-week." This morning, I pressed him as to when exactly he wanted to review our work in progress. This whole team -- hell, all of advertising -- is very deadline-driven and if we don't have a deadline, we tend to procrastinate. Including my boss. "Oh, how about 1:00 tomorrow?"

So I sent out an invitation to the team to attend an internal review with our boss at 1:30 tomorrow. I gave us an extra half hour.

Yet all day the art directors (including the one who exasperates me) have been complaining about being under the gun, and about all the questions they have that keep them from completing the task at hand. Let's see -- you've known about this since Friday, why didn't YOU manage YOUR time better? And don't just look at me pleadingly and with big eyes -- if YOU have questions, why are you asking ME? Go talk our boss your damn self! I've written the copy, I'm done and waiting for you!

My favorite comment -- "Boy, I wish I'd worked on this over the weekend." Hell, I wish you had, too. But what do you want me to do about it NOW? It's Tuesday afternoon!

I'm drinking vodka. I'm listening to Sir Paul. I'm blogging. Leave me alone!

Heads or Tails #22 -- Loud

Make any kind of post using "Loud" as your prompt. You can either use the word itself or post about something that IS loud.

My "loud" post is all about the family that starred in a PBS "reality show" (back then they were merely 'documentaries') more than 30 years ago. The Louds enjoyed instant, if short-lived, celebrity as An American Family.

Bill and Pat Loud lived in California with their 5 kids. They opened their upper-middle class home to filmmakers, who documented their every move and aired them over 12 episodes -- including when, at Pat's request, Bill moved out of the house, and when their son, Lance (second row, far right), came out of the closet.

My family was riveted by the show when it first aired. My parents were aghast by Lance, but I thought he was great. He was totally over the top and nelly, but I figured he had to be to get his uptight parents (we used words like "uptight" back then) to see and accept him as he was. I was sad to learn from Wikipedia that Lance died back in 2001 at the age of 50. Even though his life was relatively short, I hope it was happy.

To play Heads or Tails yourself, click here.

Tuesday Tunes #17

What music can cure whatever ails you, and why?

The most reliable individual day-brightener in this Gal's world is "September" by Earth, Wind and Fire. It's about nostalgia, so the lyrics are upbeat without being too heinously cheerful, and I just love the sound of it. Hearing this has been known to make me smile at my worst moments.


- Earth Wind & Fire Lyrics

A distant second is "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5, because it's evocative of something I undoubtedly wish I was doing (lolling around in post-coital bliss with a man I love) instead of ailing.

If I needed lots of curing, instead of a just a jolt of song, I'd turn to Sir Paul. Beatle Paul, Wings Paul, solo Macca … it's all good for what ails me. Paul McCartney has provided the soundtrack to my life, and there's always a good memory attached to his music.

To play along, or to see how other bloggers responded, click here.

In Praise of Chris Noth

You're looking at a durable TV star here. He clocked 147 episodes as Mike Logan on Law and Order and Law and Order: Criminal Intent, plus a L&O made-for-TV movie. Then there's his 41-episode stint as Big in Sex and the City, plus last summer's SATC movie.

I find him sexier as Detective Mike Logan. Which is odd because Big was always the often-idealized object of Carrie's affection. But over those 147 episodes, we saw glimpses into Mike Logan that made him even hotter than his tall-dark-handsome package. Irish-Catholic alter boy still battling demons, rough-and-tumble street kid turned dedicated cop. I loved the chemistry between Logan and Lennie Briscoe (Jerry Orbach), as two snotty, cynical, smart-ass cops who had seen too much and cracked wise to stay sane. Big may have had a better tailor, but Logan -- wrestling with his personal demons as he protects and defends the citizens of New York -- is more attractive and multi-dimensional.

I'm always happy when, like now, I can't sleep and am rewarded with an early 1990s rerun of Law and Order featuring Det. Logan. He makes a lovely last sight before I close my eyes and doze off again.

A movie meme! I love movie memes!

What are your favorite movie musicals?

5) Summer Stock (1950) -- "Forget your troubles, c'mon, get happy!"

4) Mary Poppins (1964) -- "I love to laugh, loud and long and clear, I love to laugh so everybody can hear"

3) The Sound of Music (1965) -- "Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good"

2) Funny Girl (1968) -- "Whatever my man is, I am his forever more"

1) A Hard Day's Night (1964) -- "Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me"

To play along, click here.

Interview me

Kwizgiver was interviewed by one of her blog buddies, I thought I'd try it too!

Five questions from Kwizgiver
to The Gal Herself

1. There's a totally complete media blackout on all baseball coverage. How would you follow the Cubs? This was the easiest of the five. For after each game, an L or (most likely) W pennant flies above the scoreboard and it's easily seen from the el tracks. All I'd have to do is go a little (OK, more like an hour) out of my way to get the final result. And while I was in Wrigleyville, I'd probably get off the train and visit one of the many bars and talk to those who had been at the game. Buy a Cub fan a beer and it's not hard to get his opinion on the Boys in Blue.

2. President Obama would like you to be his advisor for... what? I'd like to be his special envoy to the Hillary Contingent: White women over 50 who make less than $50,000/year. Technically speaking I don't belong to this group, but I very easily could have if I didn't have luck and mentors early in my career. I understand them and their issues. Rahm! Are you out there, Rahm! Please pass this suggestion along to POTUS.

3. If you had to create and market a new holiday, what would it be like, how would it be celebrated, would there be decorations, (etc)? Beatles Day! Yes, I know they're British, but what the hell. It would be the first Monday in April, commemorating the week of April 4, 1964, when the Beatles held all five positions of Billboard's Top. Schoolchildren would hold Beatle assemblies, during which they would perform Beatle songs. TV stations would run A Hard Day's Night and Help! the same way we see It's A Wonderful Life and Rudolph every Christmas. It would customary to display the words, "All You Need Is Love" in windows and on doors. Children are told to be good or ELSE (meaning or else Yoko Ono will visit and terrify you in the night).

4. You have to be escorted to work by a mime, a marching band, or a color commentator... which would you prefer and why? My favorite question! A marching band. Mimes scare me, a color commentator would interrupt my ability to read the paper on the train. But a marching band! Ah! I'd not only get a seat on the el, I might get my own car!

5. What would you do if you were given a thousand dollars to perform random acts of kindness? This is such a fun fantasy! I'd take $500 and go grocery shopping -- picking up as many non-perishable "buy one, get one free" items as I could and then take my booty to the food pantry. I'd divvy up $400 among animal shelters, because they suffer mightily as the economy falters. I'd use the last $100 to buy McDonald's and Starbuck's gift cards and distribute them to the homeless I see downtown. It would give them the opportunity to go indoors and buy something warm -- but not liquor or cigarettes.

Want to play too? Here's how:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."

2. I will respond with five questions chosen just for you. (I get to pick the questions).

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Sunday Stealing #17

Sunday Stealing: The Sassy Meme

1. If you could say anything you wanted to say to George Bush, what would you say? "Mr. President, I believe that when you get to Heaven, Jesus will slap you upside the head and say, 'How dare you blame ME for the invasion of Iraq!'"

2. If you had to be the mother of Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan, who would you choose and why? Really? Do I HAVE to choose one? I'd rather shave my legs with a cheese grater. OK -- Britney. Why? Because you're making me.

3. You get to be Queen for a day. The kids are all taken care of, and you can spend as much money as you want. What do you do all day? While I'm being outfitted by a Personal Shopper at Macy's, a cleaning service will be scrubbing, vacuuming, polishing and shining throughout my condo.

4. Is there a song that brings tears to your eyes every time you hear it? If so, which one? "Save the Best for Last" by Vanessa Williams. Because it's how we felt at the beginning of our relationship, but not at all how we felt at the end, and that makes me unutterably sad.

5. A fairy taps you on the shoulder and tells you that you can either have a perfect face or a perfect body for the rest of your life. Which do you choose? Bod

6. If you could live any place in the world and money was no object, where would you live and why? Here. I'd just live better.

7. What is your biggest regret in life? I try not to regret anything because it's a waste.

8. If you could go back and visit one person in your life who is now dead, and ask one question, what would that question be and why would you ask it? I recently found out that, even though I understood he had been living Germany, my grandfather came to America on a boat that originated in Norway. Why? Did it stop in Germany? Did he run away to Norway so his parents couldn't find/stop him? What gives? (I know that' s more than one question, but I'd ask them in rapid succession so it still sounded like just one.)

9. If you had the choice to age forward (like we are now) or aging backwards (think Benjamin Buttons) which would you choose and why? Like we are now. Cuz.

10. What will the epitaph on your headstone say? Hopefully, as Wilbur said of Charlotte, "She was a good writer and a true friend."