what a weekend. possibly the very nicest, most loving, least self-conscious and unjudgmental uncle i could have ever possibly had passed away sunday night. after recuperating from a heart transplant in a cleveland hospital for eight months, my uncle pete flew home strapped in a gurney in a tiny hospital plane to a chicagoland nursing home this last thursday night. upon receiving news that my dad was hospitalized, his wife [and my dad's favorite little sister] kay then came to the hospital friday. in the intensive care unit family room, she told me about the horrifying ride in this itty-bitty jet with a giggle and her signature pursed upper lip.
pete was hilarious, welcoming all the guys with a warm, rollicking handshake. every girl was "his girlfriend" and he'd tuck one or two under each outstretched arm and exclaim, "god bless america!" to everyone he offered a drink, a hug, and acceptance -- he was actually albanian, allegedly quasi-literate, and spoke an albanian-greek patois so he knew from being judged, lemme tell ya. at two in the morning, he drove my very young mom to the hospital [albeit the wrong hospital] when she was pregnant with me and her water broke. after my parents' divorce, he was always ready with a kind word and a warm message for us to pass along to her. he didn't ask about her the way the others from my dad's side did [as though she were dead or in a coma or something] but acknowledged her thriving existence.
my father is doing okay. he is experiencing a frustrating aphasia, and he gets downright pissed off at himself because he can't get what he wants to say to form into words. this means that, though the verbal tics are still in tact, all the "y'knows" and "what-nots" are the steel links to a flimsy chain of nonsensical garble about lighthouses, landscaping, dogs and garbage cans.
for me, what is even more frustrating is the friggin' volume in the i.c.u. isn't that supposed to be a quiet place? here i am leaning over on my dad's bed, supported by both locked arms with my ear to his dry, trembling lips, trying to parse his growly whispers. just when i think i can finally extrude some meaning from the mumbling over the roar of the arctic a/c, so begins one of several loud talking, nasal nurses, speaking with what seems to me to be a most untherapeutic and cacophonous volume. someone tell me: are nurses trained to speak this way!? when they command my dad to push and pull them and hold up fingers, you can see his large brown eyes roll like, "jesus christ, lady." when i visit today, i'm bringing my hearing aid, dammit.
we learned that he finds words better when he focuses on one point, so we tried to coach him to keep his eyes open. amidst all the talk of burger kings and parameters with half-mast eyes, he affixes his gaze on my face and asks the only lucid question of the day, "why don't you come over any more?"
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Friday, May 27, 2005
tomás
well, i sat at my desk last night to make good on my promise to write, when i got a call from my sister. my dad was found unconscious at home and was taken to one hospital and then to another for emergency brain surgery. because he has a titanium valve in his heart, he takes a blood thinner. well, apparently, he was rushing around doing things [even though he should be resting since he just had his gall bladder removed and was sliced in half only a short time ago] and apparently banged his head.
a little bump on the head + blood thinners =
hematoma = blood clot on the brain
i went to the hospital to meet up with dad's wife, my sisters, my aunt kay [such a pretty lady, i forget], my sweet cousin valerie, and rick who, never one to surprise anyone, was fast asleep on the couch. rick is powerless against the indominable force of a couch; he succumbs to sweet slumber instantaneously.
to make a long story short, the surgery was successful and it doesn't look like there is any brain damage. he is not, however, back on the the blood thinner [would make it hard for the hematoma to heal] so he's still in critical condition. they need to monitor him closely to make sure he doesn't suffer a stroke because his valve gets jacked up.
my little sister reports that he's drifting in and out of sedation and capable of opening his eyes and moving his hands and feet. he's tried to rip the ventilator out [he hates having it] and has been trying to get up and move around, so they've had to restrain him a bit.
for my sisters and me, humor is a soothing salve in times like this. my dad was a hairstylist by trade and is still a salon owner, a european native, and also a leo. as a result of all variables mentioned, he's always nattily dressed, outfitted with jewelry, and of course, expertly coiffed. he's always had a sort of long, wavy, perfectly tinted 'do with nary a spot of grey or baldness to be seen. now, his head is obviously shaved and outfitted with a head cap much like the kind newborn babies get. when we went in to see him after surgery, my sister nicole says, "when he wakes up, he's gonna be so pissed about his hair."
hematoma = blood clot on the brain
i went to the hospital to meet up with dad's wife, my sisters, my aunt kay [such a pretty lady, i forget], my sweet cousin valerie, and rick who, never one to surprise anyone, was fast asleep on the couch. rick is powerless against the indominable force of a couch; he succumbs to sweet slumber instantaneously.
to make a long story short, the surgery was successful and it doesn't look like there is any brain damage. he is not, however, back on the the blood thinner [would make it hard for the hematoma to heal] so he's still in critical condition. they need to monitor him closely to make sure he doesn't suffer a stroke because his valve gets jacked up.
my little sister reports that he's drifting in and out of sedation and capable of opening his eyes and moving his hands and feet. he's tried to rip the ventilator out [he hates having it] and has been trying to get up and move around, so they've had to restrain him a bit.
for my sisters and me, humor is a soothing salve in times like this. my dad was a hairstylist by trade and is still a salon owner, a european native, and also a leo. as a result of all variables mentioned, he's always nattily dressed, outfitted with jewelry, and of course, expertly coiffed. he's always had a sort of long, wavy, perfectly tinted 'do with nary a spot of grey or baldness to be seen. now, his head is obviously shaved and outfitted with a head cap much like the kind newborn babies get. when we went in to see him after surgery, my sister nicole says, "when he wakes up, he's gonna be so pissed about his hair."
Thursday, May 26, 2005
lemme 'splain...
my sincerest apologies for having left a nerve precariously dangling in my last post. i will now commence rapid-fire posting to alleviate any confusion, concern, or annoyance on the part of anyone. hopefully, you will find my topics benign and possibly enjoyable! here goes...
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
post ≠ pissed
this is my brain trying to figure out how to post what i need to post.
there have been so many things swirling in my head about which i could be posting -- i've just had a hard time determining what to post about first!
i am also wanting to make sure i attack each issue without offending anyone [me? hamhanded? naw!] or doocing myself either. and no, dina: that's not "douch" [or "douche"]. i know others who also share my perverse and cruel thirst for taunting those who commit grievous spelling errors.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
how i love the comments
i've just added haloscan commenting. 'bout time, eh? the good news is that all previous comments are not lost -- just click on the posts under stuff i said before [scroll down and look on the right side] to see what was written on the old blogger comments.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
my kinda town, chicago is
new york, new york... it's a urine-filled town!
i'm back from my weekend trip to new york city. i had much fun hanging out with my gothamite friends, neither of whom are over five feet tall. at 5'2.5", i felt like an amazon. it's amazing how different circumstances change your perception of things.
there was a time when my singlehood was gnawed off from coupledom, painfully new and raw, that i visited new york city and fell in love with it. bear in mind that i was there with a performance group and staying in a posh hotel in midtown with all expenses paid. everything was available, open late, easily accessible. people moving briskly without being frantic gets my seal of approval. brio, efficiency, zeal for achievement in the people was captivating. i could so live here, i thought.
having gone without the responsibility of shielding the young eyes of 15 midwestern teens from that which they may not appreciate on a very pricey trip, i see new york differently.
manhattan does not support life. it's trying to tell us it's inhabitable and no one is listening, not even conan o'brien whom we saw out to breakfast. it's trying to tell us to get the hell off already. for one, there is an extreme paucity of nature. cement as far as the eye can see. i didn't notice this before because i was there in november, but unless you're going to gorgeous central park, you see no grass. you see sickly trees. the pansies and begonias planted in front of chi-chi apartment buildings are hating their lives, street spray speckling their wilted petals.
i thought about chicago streets: even closer to the loop, i remembered there are usually very small plots of grass that flank the sidewalks under trees. i asked my friends, "dude. where do dogs take a gang?" sunday morning, i was witness to a dozen or more small breeds defying their natural instinct to poop on a soft, absorbent surface. you could tell they weren't real pumped about hunching to crap on the sidewalk, surrounded by a forest of legs. the owners weren't real pumped about hunching over to pick them up either, leaving an indelible skid mark. we walked to get breakfast, and every 3 feet, a squirt of some kind of urine splashed the pollock-esque pavement. mingled with the jus d'ordure curbside, the stench was breathtaking.
i realize that the zeal for achievement is due to the fact that everything [with the exception of gauzy skirts in soho] is so prohibitively expensive, you gotta bust your ass to pretend to survive, only to be surrounded by asphalt, piss, and garbage. there's no comfort of any kind there -- living space is an oxymoron. apartment dwelling, even in my friend's very cute place in a nice building, squeezes you out like toothpaste into the street where the drive to consume is overwhelming, but you can't afford to buy anything anyway, so you just feel empty.
the anonymity is overwhelming. there are so many people there that, unless you look like a vision of perfection or try damned hard to work that singles scene, finding a mate just seems improbable. who will remember you? someone just like you is going to walk by in sixty seconds.
one thing i didn't experience is rudeness of new yawkers. yes, they push on the subway before letting people off, but no one was loud, obnoxious and in-your-face. the natives seemed to keep to themselves, preserving a false sense of solitude, interacting with one another in the most efficient manner possible, minus all the pleasantries. it may be seen as brusque, but i still like that.
what i liked even more was coming home to my brilliant, gorgeous green yard, getting the car in our garage, parking in a parking lot and getting... chipotle! no, i'm not itching to get to the suburbs at all. chicago is the best possible mix of artificial and natural, urban and pastoral, fast-paced and friendly and i hope to stay as long as it will have me.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
'cos beige lines... blow away!
rang-dang, diggity dang-dee dang, blow!
after proudly blazing through an entire year without sickness, exposing myself to health-compromising conditions [read "four to a hotel room"], at the apex of my travel-free season, i have managed to catch some cooties.
i judged my high school alma mater's dance team tryouts [75 hopefuls = 4.5 hour audition] and sat next to one of my former instructors, sniffling and sneezing. i should have known that walgreen's bag of snot rags on the floor was a little too close for comfort, and i probably should have kept a portion of the judges' chow [gummy bears and baked lays] to myself.
i thought the advil cold and sinus [non-drowsy formula, natch'] would save me, but packed with pseudoephedrine, i was cracked out all day. as someone who used to live on ripped fuel and the like, i never expected to feel so hyped, but my tolerance seems to be way down.
the result? laying in bed until 4:30a with mental diarrhea, feeling like i just snorted big rails of searing sahara sand. nasal passages aflame, i slept on the couch downstairs.
i don't have patience for this -- i'm going to new york to have fun this weekend, damnit.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
p.o.b + p.m.g = s.o.l.
oh, pat. a fine mess you got yourself into.
i giggle and squirm uncomfortably every time i hear that croaky, south dakota accent ["you are soo haat!"] on the voicemail. god, man -- what were you thinking?
last night, i watched dr. phil basically hand you your ass only to kiss it shamelessly at the very end. i sat on my couch by myself and laughed like a loon at your poor, down-trodden [but clearly surgically enhanced] expression. at one point, some scruffy young man soliciting for donations came to my door giving me a lengthy, mumbly spiel about contributing to his worthy cause. i could feel my teeth gritting as i politely held the door open. i felt like screaming, "can't you see i'm watching pat o'brien get reamed right now?!" and slamming the door in his face.
as i drove back from the y last night, i noticed the "the insider" billboard at the end of my street, plastered with your big smarmy mug. you look sheepish, almost penitent, as though you knew when the photo was taken what was to come.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
video killed the bdd star
sunday night, i shot an instructional video for a dance team with whom i've been working for several years. last night, i sat at the kitchen table and watched it, writing down what bouts of aphasia and tourette's syndrome casey should edit out. we taped the intro -- a shoulders-up shot -- at the end of the tape. casey let the tape roll as i sampled words to use, letting them roll around in my mouth before spitting them out with an eye-roll, an obscenity, and a twitch before finally settling on a sturdy script.
in my face's more serene depictions, i thought, "whoa -- that's totally my mom at my age." i see our resemblance more clearly than ever on that video. i also never got the courteney cox connection until then either. alas, our resemblance only exists in the follicular and mandibular region and not the corporal or financial. the freakiest is watching and thinking, "wow -- i really am n years old! how'd that happen?!"
have you ever watched yourself on video for a while? it gets mesmerizing, not in a narcissistic way, but because the person you feel you obviously know better than anyone else in the world becomes, in some respects, a stranger.
to see your own face in action in profile is new. watching the way your face works, the gesticulations with your hands is like meeting someone entirely new. you see parts of your body you never noticed and think, "hm. i never knew i looked like that." to see yourself as others do feels like finding something hidden in the back of the basement or tucked away in a deep drawer that you never knew was there. you don't really know what to do with it. you just wondered why you never noticed it under all that dust and cat litter in the crawlspace of your ego.
in my face's more serene depictions, i thought, "whoa -- that's totally my mom at my age." i see our resemblance more clearly than ever on that video. i also never got the courteney cox connection until then either. alas, our resemblance only exists in the follicular and mandibular region and not the corporal or financial. the freakiest is watching and thinking, "wow -- i really am n years old! how'd that happen?!"
have you ever watched yourself on video for a while? it gets mesmerizing, not in a narcissistic way, but because the person you feel you obviously know better than anyone else in the world becomes, in some respects, a stranger.
to see your own face in action in profile is new. watching the way your face works, the gesticulations with your hands is like meeting someone entirely new. you see parts of your body you never noticed and think, "hm. i never knew i looked like that." to see yourself as others do feels like finding something hidden in the back of the basement or tucked away in a deep drawer that you never knew was there. you don't really know what to do with it. you just wondered why you never noticed it under all that dust and cat litter in the crawlspace of your ego.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
at least eat the wedding cake
hyperthyroidism much?
what a thoughtless dingbat! if i were her fiance, i would have to think hard about wanting to spend my life with someone who, in a fit of fear and selfishness, caused such widespread panic.
on second thought, she might not have been so boneheaded if she had proper nutrition feeding her brain. or maybe she was worried about giving up her crazy bachelorette days at greyskull castle with her pal she-ra and that sexy hunk, he man.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Thursday, April 28, 2005
not a girl, not yet a mother
like fat elvis, only with boobies
you know, i can only imagine how absolutely horrible life would be if i had someone following me all the time, taking my picture everywhere i went. in the case of our fair friend britney, i just can't help but wonder if she'd have that many people dying to get shots of her if she didn't look like such a complete trainwreck all the time. i don't support tabloids or smut like people or us magazine, but i will occasionally look for a site that features recent photos of her. gosh darnit, it's just so fun to see what kind of jacked-up ensemble she cooks up each day. hey, i can quit anytime i want -- i'm not addicted.
i'm not saying she should look perfect all the time or impeccably dressed, but how about not like complete white trash? maybe a good supportive brassiere, especially now that she's got those new big cans? it looks like there's effort there -- hair done, makeup done -- just... wow, really unfortunate choices.
for starters, if she's only in her first trimester, why is she wearing that maternity-esque schmatte? recently, i keep seeing her in really unflattering summer dresses, breasts all over the place. ugh.
speaking of ugh, i'm no fashion guru, but hasn't it already been made abundantly clear that ugg boots have come and gone and are now the domain of the knockoff artists like payless and sears? what is she doing wearing those boots? with a short dress no less! bad dog!
what i wonder is if her friend [the tastefully-dressed girl in the pink skirt] in the photo with her is like, "um, really, britney. is it laundry day, cherie?"
Monday, April 25, 2005
sanibel
glad it doesn't say the same for feeding the no-see-ums.
sanibel was blissful despite some niggling biological annoyances. now that i have emerged from my benadryl-induced coma and overwhelming amounts of email, i'll share.
we all strove to get over that pesky travel "irregularity", if ya catch my drift. eileen, casey, and i devised a menu that would surely erradicate any blockages -- starbucks espresso, some ghirardelli brownies, and a pack of reds. mmm... now that's good eatin'... and good crappin'!
why the benadryl? my carefully cultivated spf 30 tan is studded with close to one hundred ruby welts, each crowned with an amber-like crystal of crust. you see, the insects, they love me. from the northwoods of minnesota to the sunny shores of the sunshine state, they patiently wait for me to come and give them the plentiful cornucopia that is my poor body. it's always been this way, and it sucks. with 15 below my left knee alone, my leg was literally hot to the touch with inflammation and sheer anger. the worst part is i think they followed me home. i've been frantically doing laundry, trying to cook those bastards. next time, i'm going to take b-complex vitamins until my pee is radioactive. that'll learn them li'l fuckers.
despite the itching, scratching, and straining, it was truly a relaxing and fun week that i look forward to enjoying again in 2006. you can see some photos on casey's blog. he had a lot of fun taking closeups of nasty looking ham steak at the sanibel cafe propelling me into the "ugly" laughs -- see page 3.
Friday, April 15, 2005
self-hating yankee
i love this test. fifteen years of working with people from all around the country makes you accutely aware of accents. i now know the difference between a dallas southern accent and a memphis southern accent. i savor the complex regional hybrids from new orleans and baltimore like an exquisite, hand-crafted delicacy. i love being able to out ohioans! living here my entire life, i can usually detect, with reasonable accuracy, what part of the chicagoland area someone is from by they way they speak. my poor little sister [always firmly ensconced in the northside] is the source of my good natured ribbing for her northwest suburban vowel-swapping.
i've got cousins from southern suburbs [peeeloos eand oorlin' peark] and southern north america ["y'all say watermelon funny: wahh-tur-MOH-LOHN..."]. as little kids, we cracked each other up with how differently we pronounced the same words.
when i was a tween, i aspired to do some print modeling and commercial work. i had this acting coach in wrigleyville i'd visit once a week. i distinctly recall her reminding me to slow down and repronounce words to stifle the north shore mushmouthedness that raised its ugly head while practicing chips ahoy! cookie commercials.
the very first year i competed in the miss drill team usa pageant, it was pounded into me again that accents aren't good. the winners were the girls with the syrupy drawls from sugarlands, texas: to my amazement, they all performed the speech portion of the contest with regionally-neutral, robotic cadence. i'm pleased to report i placed third in the nation my senior year; my forensic exercise crafted by my mom is forever etched into my brain. practicing the word "prevent" over and over really pissed me off.
in my continuing quest to sound unplaceable, this test proves i still have a long way to go. maybe that's good. i need to embrace my inner yankee-ness, though part of me is silently rejoicing over the "0% dixie".
i've got cousins from southern suburbs [peeeloos eand oorlin' peark] and southern north america ["y'all say watermelon funny: wahh-tur-MOH-LOHN..."]. as little kids, we cracked each other up with how differently we pronounced the same words.
when i was a tween, i aspired to do some print modeling and commercial work. i had this acting coach in wrigleyville i'd visit once a week. i distinctly recall her reminding me to slow down and repronounce words to stifle the north shore mushmouthedness that raised its ugly head while practicing chips ahoy! cookie commercials.
the very first year i competed in the miss drill team usa pageant, it was pounded into me again that accents aren't good. the winners were the girls with the syrupy drawls from sugarlands, texas: to my amazement, they all performed the speech portion of the contest with regionally-neutral, robotic cadence. i'm pleased to report i placed third in the nation my senior year; my forensic exercise crafted by my mom is forever etched into my brain. practicing the word "prevent" over and over really pissed me off.
in my continuing quest to sound unplaceable, this test proves i still have a long way to go. maybe that's good. i need to embrace my inner yankee-ness, though part of me is silently rejoicing over the "0% dixie".
Your Linguistic Profile: |
70% General American English |
15% Yankee |
10% Upper Midwestern |
5% Midwestern |
0% Dixie |
Thursday, April 14, 2005
interview questions
at long last, here are my interview questions. remember: please let me know when you've posted your replies on your blogs.
hey, readers out there! want to answer any of the questions below? feel free to write your reply in the comments or post your answers on your blog. the more the merrier, right?
momma
1. who would play you in a movie about your life?
2. what one basic parenting tenet would you say you followed while mothering three girls?
3. what was your favorite hairstyle you had in the 80s? looking back, what hairdo signaled that you may have reached the nadir of fashion victimhood?
4. is your life anything your 18-year-old self would have envisioned? why or why not?
5. what do you want to do for mother's day?
jamie
1. how old do you feel in your mind?
2. what do you say to all those self-hating redheads out there?
3. do you have any idiosyncracies or verbal tics? if so, do you embrace them or wish you could twelve-step 'em out of your system?
4. what do you wish you would have said to that person the time you held it in and didn't say anything?
5. do you still like stars, miss starlette?
hey, readers out there! want to answer any of the questions below? feel free to write your reply in the comments or post your answers on your blog. the more the merrier, right?
momma
1. who would play you in a movie about your life?
2. what one basic parenting tenet would you say you followed while mothering three girls?
3. what was your favorite hairstyle you had in the 80s? looking back, what hairdo signaled that you may have reached the nadir of fashion victimhood?
4. is your life anything your 18-year-old self would have envisioned? why or why not?
5. what do you want to do for mother's day?
jamie
1. how old do you feel in your mind?
2. what do you say to all those self-hating redheads out there?
3. do you have any idiosyncracies or verbal tics? if so, do you embrace them or wish you could twelve-step 'em out of your system?
4. what do you wish you would have said to that person the time you held it in and didn't say anything?
5. do you still like stars, miss starlette?
Thursday, April 07, 2005
the interview game
i get to play the interview game! thanks to trisha for the questions. here goes!
1. Any regrets?
i regret letting my yard go to complete shite this fall. yesterday, while i was using an electric clipper to mow down some majorly dead pompous grass...
::::screen goes all wavy for dream sequence::::
there's me, listening to maxwell's cover of kate bush's "this woman's work" on my ipod, large unwieldy electrical appliance in my hands, strawlike strands of dead grass flying.
maxwell: "i know you got a little life in you yet,..."
electric saw: brrrrrrrroooooaaaarrripzzzzz-chuk!
maxwell: "i know you got a lotta strength left..."
::::screen goes all wavy again::::
don't forget we're blessed with an extra-wide lot. wheee!
2. What happened that day?
as the autumn dwindled down, our second floor was being renovated and so the house became a veritable polish pirate ship. these men came and went and did what they want and we just floated along lamely. casey & i, feeling like stowaways, got wind of the yard nazi who, for like $30, will come and whack the crap out of your yard for you.
we scheduled him, and due to one of three factors, i never answered the door:
3. If not you, then who?
ummm... wha-it?
4. Mary Louise Parker or Mary Stuart Masterson or Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio? And why.
all three are the reason i believe i trying to give your kid a unique name can be a good idea. at one time, when you had a standard, plain name in the entertainment industry, the adding of the middle name made you stand out, but now, there are so many three-namers out there, they've all fused themselves into a huge globular miasma. can't tell them all apart anymore.
i see the trend going the other way. evidence? michael j. fox is now mike fox.
5. If you could change Casey's name, what would you change it to?
don't think i would -- he's just such a casey.
according to lisa birnbach's the preppy handbook, the name "bunny" i've had for him for years seems apt. under the list of the top 12 most popular nicknames for boys, she writes:
6. bunny: surprising but true. high society. nonathletic, but cool. comes from any name.
The Official Interview Game Rules
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/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.
1. Any regrets?
i regret letting my yard go to complete shite this fall. yesterday, while i was using an electric clipper to mow down some majorly dead pompous grass...
::::screen goes all wavy for dream sequence::::
there's me, listening to maxwell's cover of kate bush's "this woman's work" on my ipod, large unwieldy electrical appliance in my hands, strawlike strands of dead grass flying.
maxwell: "i know you got a little life in you yet,..."
electric saw: brrrrrrrroooooaaaarrripzzzzz-chuk!
maxwell: "i know you got a lotta strength left..."
::::screen goes all wavy again::::
don't forget we're blessed with an extra-wide lot. wheee!
2. What happened that day?
as the autumn dwindled down, our second floor was being renovated and so the house became a veritable polish pirate ship. these men came and went and did what they want and we just floated along lamely. casey & i, feeling like stowaways, got wind of the yard nazi who, for like $30, will come and whack the crap out of your yard for you.
we scheduled him, and due to one of three factors, i never answered the door:
- i have some hearing loss,
- our doorbell is a tempermental piece of crap,
- there was much loud banging and much yelling of "tak! tak! pragda!"
3. If not you, then who?
ummm... wha-it?
4. Mary Louise Parker or Mary Stuart Masterson or Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio? And why.
all three are the reason i believe i trying to give your kid a unique name can be a good idea. at one time, when you had a standard, plain name in the entertainment industry, the adding of the middle name made you stand out, but now, there are so many three-namers out there, they've all fused themselves into a huge globular miasma. can't tell them all apart anymore.
i see the trend going the other way. evidence? michael j. fox is now mike fox.
5. If you could change Casey's name, what would you change it to?
don't think i would -- he's just such a casey.
according to lisa birnbach's the preppy handbook, the name "bunny" i've had for him for years seems apt. under the list of the top 12 most popular nicknames for boys, she writes:
6. bunny: surprising but true. high society. nonathletic, but cool. comes from any name.
The Official Interview Game Rules
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/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.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
reading/listening/watching
boxing or botulinum?
reading: just finished the red tent by anita diamant, recommended by laurel and roma. glad i read it. i loved the way the two cultures -- canaanite and egyptian -- were juxtaposed. i think i was expecting it to be so much more and less at the same time. more in that, in many ways, it reminded me of a romance novel. lots of babes dandled on laps, keening sobs, pealing laughter and references to genitalia as one's "sex." less in that, man alive, it was a long book. i don't think i motored through textbooks in school as earnestly. wait, as a matter of fact, my grade point average pretty much proves i didn't. i wonder if i would have been less confused by all the rachels and rebeccas, judahs and jacobs had i had more familiarity with the bible stories. i can see why you guys recommended it to me -- holy crap, who's afraid of having babies?! [oh, me! me, me! pick me!]
i just received babyji in the mail. time for some good ol' smut to read on the sanibel beaches. whoo! i think i read an indian themed book there last year -- the namesake by jhumpa lahiri. one of the best books i've ever read.
listening: can't stop listening to a certain type of music. not sure what the technical definition is: urban, electronic, chilled house music with a brazilian flavor? casey just calls it "shopping music": the kind of music you hear piped overhead at urban outfitters and banana republic that doesn't command too much attention with complicated lyrics or instrumentation, but creates a plush, elegant ambience that whispers, "buy me, buy me, buy me..."
some of my choice picks are:
- blue six - beautiful tomorrow
- aya - strange flower
- the latin project - nueva musica
- naked music presents miguel migs - nude tempo one
watching: love "the contender"... did you see it sunday? we just watched it [we taped it -- we're old skool like dat] last night. if you haven't seen it, cast aside your distate for pugilism [i think it's gross] and check this show out. we're on the brink of tears, from either happiness or sadness or both, after every episode. sly's face is hilarious.
Friday, April 01, 2005
i love my friend
... with taxes, that comes to 15¢.
when we're not bitching about things, my dear friend jeannine and i are cracking up.
i was talking to her as she was in a cab in manhattan, racing to catch a flight from newark to san fran to run a pro team's cheerleader tryouts. i was telling her about how i was offered the chance to judge my alma mater's dance team tryouts, but was feeling bad because they're sunday from 7-10p and i'd have to drive four hours out there, stay in a hotel sunday night and then drive back monday, cutting into my work day. i feel especially bad because i know the coach [she used to work with me] and she's been a huge help to me this winter with my events. the spirit coordinator [a coworker of mine] offered to up the pay, but it's still logistically unfun. i was feeling guilty.
"take ten years off your life and you'd do it in a second," jeannie says. "back then, we'd lick a dog's ass for a quarter."
i'm not sure what's funnier than that. have a great weekend, everyone.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
not going...
i called my neighbor/aunt/second-cousin/whatever yesterday. i didn't lie: i explained that casey's leaving for las vegas and we're really behind on preparing our taxes for our accountant, so unfortunately we will have to pass.
she was very sweet as always. she really is so sweet and protective. she told my brother-in-law, rick [affectionately referred to as 'pizz' for his high-pitched, rapid-fire pronunciation of the word 'because'] that she loves him [accentuated by arm petting and cheek-pinching], but if he ever does anything to hurt my sister, she'll kill him. when my sister and rick were announced at the reception, they ran in and passed my sweet neighbor-relative. as they did, pizzy mcrizzowitz turned to her and slashed his throat with his index finger. it's pretty classic -- you can see it on their wedding video.
what did she ask me for a few minutes?
"...do you wvork?"
"...your house, do you own or do you rent? mpravo, koukla-mou!"
"...how's your mamma? she live very far?"
"...your hazzband, yes? he goes to las vegas? how come you no go?"
"...marriage, it wvorks both ways, you know? you both need to be good."
i hope that a time comes when i can enjoy her hospitality and we can take advantage of our close proximity, but i know that tonight is not the night. casey knows that, too: he cheered when i told him we're not going. a full-on "yeaa!" with fists raised.
Monday, March 28, 2005
[way too] near.... [want to run] far!
ti kaneis, koritzaki-mou? how come you don' call me?
holy shit, everyone.
we went to the pet supplies store around the corner tonight, and when we came back, there was a message from one of my crazy aunt/second-cousins whom i pretty much only see at weddings. in an accent as thick and greek as my delicious and elusive fage yogurt, she invites us [me and my "sweetheart" because she doesn't "know" that casey & i are married] to her house wednesday for dinner. also coming are:
my sweet but bonkers aunt-cousin thingie says, "we are... neh-buhrs baht we don' know." she rattles off her address: she lives on the next block over. i have walked past her house many times on the way to the cleaners.
people, what do i do!? she's so sweet, and means no harm, but she's friggin' nuts. i do not want to go there! surely, she'll not understand when we don't partake of her lovely lamb dishes or beef pasticho. to make matters worse, she is a block away. forever. casey asked, "do we have to move now?"