Thursday, December 31, 2009

Bangles That Fit!

For years, I couldn’t wear bangle bracelets because they were just a tad too big for my wrists. The rest of me is fat, but I can encircle my right wrist with the thumb and forefinger of my left hand no problem. Thankfully, H & M carries bracelets in size xs/s. I’m beginning to like this store. It’s like the Ikea of clothing. Now, if Ikea comes to Fort Wayne, I can get cool clothing AND cool furnishings for cheap.

They Deserve to Go Down

I wanted to pay my post office box fee, so I decided to go to the mall and take care of it there. Only I couldn’t. They said I had to take care of it at the location where I have my post office box. So then I decided to go home and pay it online. Except I couldn’t. How is it that I paid for it online the last time the fee was due, but I can’t pay it now? Even doing a new account wouldn’t help me. So my box will be closed until I can pay it. The post office deserves to go bankrupt if you can’t pay for your p.o. box at any location.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Very Random Shit

My house is a mess. I was looking for my ink pads today in order to make my own Christmas cards. I found the stamp I wanted to use, but I didn’t have any ink. I looked and looked, but couldn’t think of where I put them. I tried to put all my craft stuff in one of my craft boxes designated for storage. Found all sorts of shit though, besides the ink pads. One thing was an unopened package of Christmas cards, so much for trying to make my own this year. Maybe I still will, but probably not. I may just experiment with the package of blank cards I bought and the colored cardstock I bought too. Damn it! And of course, I found the opened package of blank cards I bought seven years ago for a Kentucky Derby party. Oh well, the ink pads, should I ever find them, are probably all dried up, as I bought the pads the year of the Derby party. I really liked the way my invitations turned out. I actually found one tonight and I’m still impressed by what I came up with.

I used one of my dad’s belts to hold up my jeans (I’ve lost 20 pounds so far) and thought about buying another belt, because I’m running out of holes. What should I find in my bedroom, while looking for the inkpads, but a very nice classic brown belt. But how did I get it? On closer inspection, it’s a Coach belt. It must have been a gift from a friend, because I haven’t purchased a belt in years. Anyway, I have a new belt, and a nice one too.

Another mindfuck was opening up a cupboard and finding popped popcorn sitting on the shelf. How the hell did it get up there? I haven’t looked in that cupboard for weeks. I also found popped popcorn in a kitchen drawer where I keep towels. Only here, there were some little black things that may have been mouse turds. Yuck. I’ve not seen any mice in the house, and I’ve not heard any, which is why I’m wondering what’s up with the popcorn. Especially the popcorn in the cupboard. Can mice climb walls? Because I don’t know how else they would be able to get in the cupboard, unless they chewed a hole in the wall behind the cupboard and burrowed in, but the back of the cupboard is METAL. I guess this is a sign I should throw leftovers away promptly and not leave the half-eaten bowl of popcorn on the kitchen counter.

If nothing else, during my medical leave, I’ve GOT to clean my room. My parents’ room is still a mess, as is the spare bedroom/office, but I’ve got to do something. Tired of living in a landfill.

The Mexican restaurant that took the place of Schlotzky’s Deli has closed and it’s now Ozzy’s Pancake House, or Ozzy’s House of Pancakes. Up on Dupont, beside Scott’s/Kroger’s will be another restaurant, Norma’s House of Pancakes. What gives? Is that the new trend? Pancake houses?

It isn’t bad enough that tattoos have gone mainstream and now grandmas and teens are sporting them, but thanks to Ed Hardy, we have to look at tattoo-like designs on t-shirts, shoes (high heels, converse-style sneakers as well as ballerina flats) and (I’m not making this up) hair straightening irons and blow dryers. I can’t wait for the Ed Hardy double-wide trailer. I mean, isn’t that the logical next step?

Monday, December 7, 2009

A Day Out

I went out by myself today. I had to go to the doctor. It was a good thing, because yesterday, I woke up with a stomachache and the worst bloating I’d had in a while. Then, before going to bed, I basically threw up everything I’d eaten that day. Dried cranberries, toast, pizza. And I also pooped it all out. I was pretty well cleaned out after I was done. I told the doctor’s office about it, and they seemed pretty nonchalant about it. Flu, they said. They checked my incision, and it looks “wonderful.”

I worked on getting info for another column, after I’d had lunch, then I came home. My moods are pretty up and down. One minute, I’m feeling okay, the next, I’m wracked with regret. As well as worrying about my finances. I’m not the only one in this boat, but I feel like an idiot for getting myself in this situation, and struggling so hard to change it and not having anything get better. Two steps forward, ten steps back.

Saturday, November 21, 2009


After dinner tonight, I went to the bathroom. I ate a bunch of fried shrimp, so it makes sense that I'd have to go. So I'm sitting there, and have this sensation that something is going to fall out of my vagina. It's sorta like when you have a tampon that needs to come out, and you know it's full of blood. You tug on the string a little bit, and usually it falls right out.

Well, I had that same feeling, only no tampon. I can feel whatever it is coming out of me, but it's having a hard time. So I sort of stand up, and wiggle, and I feel it moving, but it's not coming out. So I reach for it, tug it out, and end up tossing a four inch long, two and a half inch wide, six inch diameter hunk of dead tumor into the bathtub. Talk about awe inspiring and disgusting!!! I took several pictures of it, because this is the biggest chunk of dead tumor to pop out of me yet.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

So My Pain is Funny, Eh?

Called my surgeon to get a refill on my steroids. They were the only thing that kept me going this past week. I had bad abdominal pain late Halloween night/early Sunday morning, so I indulged. I was told when I got another dose that this was my LAST one. My surgeon said he had three refills, so I should have at least one more.

So I called today, and they said he had prescribed it for three cycles only. So I get the first batch, I get the second batch, but there is no third batch. I talk to the nurse, and reiterate my symptoms (nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, extreme fatigue, loss of appetite, weight loss (16 pounds so far) and she just kinda chuckled and said she'd talk to the doctor about it.

They want to do a cat scan, but I just had one at the hospital, along with blood tests, which according to Dupont Hospital, revealed nothing wrong. So why the abdominal pains so bad I couldn't roll over in bed for several minutes? Why the exhaustion? Why the lack of appetite? Why do I vomit a couple times a month on my cycle?

And why does the nurse think my suffering is funny? I wish to hell I'd had some warning I was going to feel this miserable AFTER the surgery. At least I would have known. Yes, I do look thinner, and I AM thinner, but the putty colored ooze streaming from my vagina, necessitating wearing maxi pads 24/7, is gross. It's also causing chafing in my genital area, since it's in contact with this goo and blood and tumor chunks all the time.


Saturday, November 7, 2009

Magnificent Obsession

I know I've been writing about my tumor dying, but I'm obsessed with it and what my body is going through. I had a four week period, and three weeks of abdominal pain, which eventually went away.

However, it came roaring back last Saturday night/early Sunday morning. The pain was so bad, I couldn't move for a few minutes. Robert drove me to the emergency room, where it took a mere four hours to get pain meds. A cat scan and blood work showed no problems. I told one of the nurses I was afraid I had cancer. It kinda makes sense: no appetite, weight loss, lethargy, so I thought I'd better get checked out.

So I took the steroids the surgeon provided for me, and that is keeping me functioning, while bumping up my appetite a bit. I still don't feel like eating much, though.

But my body seems violently opposed to my tumor dying. Mind-bending pain, vomiting (this morning) diarrhea (also this morning) and a stomach ache early this evening made a frustrating day not much better.

The photo is one of the more recent impressive ones of my tumor. It sort of looks like a turd made out of brains, but this slid out of me a few days ago into my toilet at home. I may do a photo exhibit of this and other photos.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Pieces of Me

I have proof my procedure is working besides the $27,000+ bill that was sent to BCBS. Pieces of my tumor are falling into the toilet every day, two or three times a day. Sometimes they look like bloody shredded tissue, sometimes just white tissue. Sometimes, it looks like crab meat. But the tumor is getting smaller. I keep measuring my tummy and abdomen with a tape measure, and my upper abdomen keeps getting smaller. This past week, I started wearing a belt with my jeans, because they are falling down.

However, this is only one of two good things. I am losing weight because I just don't have an appetite. Also, I've bled every day for more than a month now. Imagine, ladies, having your period for an entire month and all that special time of month entails. Nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, abdominal pains, fatigue, the whole nine yards.

Oh well, this too shall pass, but I wish I'd had some warning. Judging from the size of my tumor, this will probably be going on for a while.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Rich Have It Bad

Oh my God. I just saw that executives from seven companies bailed out by the government are going to get their pay cut. I'm really, really concerned. How are those executives that are used to making millions of dollars a year going to survive on maybe $100,000 a year, if that?

It's horrible. Just horrible.

It must be horrible to be a rich person here in America. Having to get used to a cramped eight bedroom house, instead of the thirty room mansion. Downscaling to a Cadillac when that Bentley was just so sweet. Learning to cook because it costs so much to have a full-time, live-in cook.

If you are as concerned as I am about this travesty, please help now! Donate whatever you can to "Elevating the Elite." I've decided to start this charity (although the people I plan to help prefer to look at it as a "consulting group". Please help these people reach the level of living they are used to having. Believe me, you have no idea how much of a shock downsizing can be. The rich are people too, you know.

Elevating the Elite
P. O. Box 10864
Fort Wayne, Indiana 46854-0864.

Your donation is not tax deductible, but I'm sure this sacrifice is a small one to bear. These people have serious adjustments to make; going from $10 million plus a year to perhaps $100,000 a year. As these hard workers struggle to get by on six figures, you can make their lives a little easier. God bless you.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Don't Like Government Programs? Don't Fucking Use Them!

I got into a minor dust-up with a co-worker about health care. I wore my “Canada” sweatshirt to work, and the co-worker said, “Their health care sucks.” He then went on to say in Vancouver, six thousand MRI scans had been cancelled because they didn’t have enough machines. I said, “yeah, but did you know 18,000 Americans a year die because they don’t have health care?” “Just get a job!” was his response.
He then said something interesting. His girlfriend, who works two jobs, doesn’t make enough to buy health insurance, of course, so she’s getting her pregnancy taken care of by Medicaid.
This is a guy who thinks subsidized health care will ruin this country, yet his girlfriend is getting Medicaid for her pregnancy. Can you say “hypocrisy?”
Listen, you douche bags: if you’re against government programs, fine. But Jesus Fucking Christ, the second you lose your job and your savings run out and things start to get a little hungry and drafty, do not, I repeat DO NOT go screaming, “where’s my benefits?”
I’m so fucking sick of people going apeshit about universal health care, when they are getting some sort of government assistance. And isn’t it hilarious, these oldsters draining Medicare dry, saying, “No socialized medicine! Hands off my healthcare!”? If you’re against food stamps, stay away from the food banks, you fucking hypocrite.
We as a nation would be so much better if we just admitted that we want our share of the government pie. We do. We WANT OUR SHARE. Don’t fucking argue with me, you do. You do want your unemployment, WIC, AFDC, Medicare, Medicaid, food stamps and anything else government-funded, like federally subsidized student loans.
I realize shit happens, but why the hell do people who have kids expect a handout? And they do—from baby showers and every other thing they can get, their mindset is, “I’m having a kid. Give me stuff.”
Fuck that. FUCK THAT. F-U-C-K T-H-A-T. I never met anyone in my reproductive years that appeared to be a decent father, or even wanted to be a father. Based on my history with men and my ongoing parade of shitty jobs, I had no business even THINKING about having children. One of my doctors cautioned me about becoming pregnant after my surgery I had earlier this summer. I explained to him that I didn’t want to bring children into this world if I couldn’t raise the kids as well as my mom and dad did with my brother and me. He actually was impressed that I’d given kids so much thought. I said, “Most people act like they’re having puppies: “oh, let’s have a kid! We’ll worry about the bills later! It doesn’t matter that we’re not married and that none of us really have a legal stake in this relationship!”
Not me. Not this bitch. If the government helps you raise your kids, the government has a say in HOW your kids should be raised. I mean, fair is fair, right? If Uncle Sam is providing the check, why the hell do you think you should be able to spend it any way you see fit on your kid?
I’m not against government assistance, but don’t be a fucking hypocrite about it. If you are against universal health care, buy your own insurance, and then if you get turned down, don’t expect my tax dollars to pay for your heart attack. I don’t care. You’re not going to want to pay for any future surgeries I may have to have.
And for God’s sake—pay for your own children. You may be convinced your child is the brightest, most wonderful, sunshine-filled specimen to invade the earth. That thought has only been shared by five or six billion other people. It’s such an original thought. It’s a real safe bet that a large majority of babies brought into this world with government assistance will not become rocket scientists, cure poverty, end world hunger or graduate from a four-year college. Your kid (or kids, as the case always seems to be) will think it’s perfectly okay to get knocked up or knock someone else up. After all, Uncle Sam will pay the tab, because babies are a worthwhile commodity to this nation. They provide more taxpayers. Although, since jobs are being shipped out of the country, they might find it a bit rough to survive. That’s okay—Uncle Sam will pull through somehow. Because probably by the time your kids are ready to go out on their own, Uncle Sam will be owned by China.
And that co-worker? This will be his second child. His first was from a “previous relationship” and they weren’t married either. And the mother of the child was receiving WIC.
I’m proud to say during my economic meltdown of last summer, I did not receive a SINGLE CENT of government assistance, though I did apply for it. I managed to scrape by and feed myself, my dog and my cat by my wits, the kindness of a few friends and taking shit jobs 99 percent of Americans wouldn’t do. And here I am, working three jobs, so fucking kiss my ass.
I am NOT against government programs, but if you are, don’t use them. And take care of your own fucking kids, you lazy-ass, uncommitted assholes.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Not a Very Restful "Weekend"

Since I am on a rotating schedule at work, I don't have the same days off every week. Because I work two jobs, and I have to prep for the night job, that leaves very little free time for me, since I use my days off from my day job to prep for my night job. Hopefully, I'll spread the work out over a few evenings, so maybe I can actually enjoy my days off.

Yesterday, I did a lot of running around and prepping for my night job. Today, I slept sort of late but not really. I took my car in yesterday, and they were able to fix it, but it cost me $500+. I tried not to freak out about it; I'll be getting paid from my night job soon and I can start replenishing the emergency fund.

My brother came over today and we cleaned off a bureau and got rid of a lot of stuff. I had hopes of mopping and waxing the floors, but I was too tired to do it. I cleaned off the dryer and part of a shelving unit today and put the couch cover back on. I also sorted out some mail. Needing to get out of the house, I drove to Columbia City, then decided to stop into a store to see if a friend was working, but she wasn't there.

It's really hard to work a rotating schedule and get stuff done. Combine that with being tired all the time, and feeling hopeless about the future, and it's all one can do to drag one's self out of bed and into work.

I'm working on my first music parody video, and it's tedious, but at least I'm learning it's better to put the soundtrack in, THEN match up the shots to where you want them. That's really about the only fun I'm having these days. I'm trying to do things to make me laugh. I also have another idea for a video and started getting footage tonight.

We are still looking for actors for our sketch comedy skits that we want to put on YouTube. We'll probably put them on as well.

Friday, September 4, 2009


Ate at KFC, but even though it went down well, it hasn't set well.

Our First Video (Done all by ourselves)

Friday, August 28, 2009

Clean Pipes Are a Beautiful Thing

My plumbing problem of the last couple weeks was solved today. Turns out it was beyond the efforts of Robert and myself. Despite using an auger several times, and drain opener and plunging the toilet, a professional came out with a huge, powered auger and cleaned out the line in front of the house.

I've also done a little bit of cleaning. I'm sure that my brother is appalled at the condition of the house, but at least I got him to take some stuff with him. And we did get the front closet cleaned out.

Looking forward to my next day off.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

More Randomness

I would like to collect all my columns in a book and self-publish it. Anyone out there interested in seeing this become a reality?

I would like to blog about work, but I feel like I can't. I may write about it, just not publicly.

I sometimes wake up in the morning, and tell myself I can always go right back to bed when I come home. I haven't really been doing that, but I will start a second job soon (and as tired as I am, I really need the money, what with my plumbing being bad and my muffler problem) and won't be able to do that. I'm nervous about it, but hopefully I'll be fine.

I've been reading James Kochalka's Sketchbook Diaries and crying. It seems like such a cool life--fairly frequent travel, good times, and the kind of existence I'd like to have. Of course, maybe things are worse for him now, as they seem to be for a lot of people. These diaries are from the turn of the century, and I should buy his more recent collections. But I'm trying to watch my money. I buy stuff I need, not necessarily what I WANT.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Ran Dumb Babblings

At work, I write stuff in my mind, but I've had a strenuous day at work, then came home and did physical stuff, so I don't want to think too hard about writing stuff. I have the next two days off; hopefully I'll get some columns written.

I think whatever health care bill passes, it's going to be a rude awakening for a lot of people. In my perfect world, everyone has health care and the government isn't mean, and the system is run efficiently, but sadly, it's not going to happen that way in real life. Americans want a lot for a little (the Walmart mentality; spent $20 and get a week's worth of groceries) and people will expect the same for health care. I WANT people to have some sort of basic care; I think preventative care is super-important.

On the other hand, we'll have idiots who breakfast on Mountain Dew (somehow, that's becoming white trash America's drink of choice)and Pop Tarts demanding insulin for their newly discovered diabetes. And we'll have people who run to the doctor for every scrape, and their opposites who won't partake of the program, even if they are dying of cancer. Which means Libertarians will have to start eating better and exercising.

I'm in another depressive funk again. Not too bad, but I'm having panic attacks about not being where I'd like to be in life and the feeling that time is running out. But at least I have a job.

What is it lately with lazy men? At one point in my life, I've worked three jobs and took a class at the same time. If I had a business, I'd probably hire nothing but women because women do what it takes. Men will wait an eternity for a job that is "worthy" of their time; women scrap and scramble for whatever jobs are out there, and if stripping or prostitution are the only ways to earn a living, they'll do it. Meanwhile the men lethargically look for work. Men just need to step aside, because there are damn few of them, especially in this town, who are willing to hustle. It's like the wimpy man syndrome of Japan a few years back has come over here.

Speaking of lazy men, my brother is thinking of relocating. It pisses me off; for years I've said there's nothing for me in terms of writing jobs here in Fort Wayne, and was thinking about renting the house out and moving elsewhere. He didn't want to rent the house out (renters are bad people, in his opinion). He pooh-poohed my declaration of "nothing" being here for me and said there were plenty of "opportunities." Well, let me tell you about the "opportunities" I had last summer: delivering phone books and driving an ice cream truck. Mind you, I AM college educated and can write better than probably 99 percent of the people in this town, yet last summer I scraped by like someone freshly released from prison. So why is it that for years I've said there's nothing here, and my brother blows me off, yet when he's finding it difficult to find work, it's perfectly okay for HIM to take off? I wouldn't miss him, but it just makes me mad that MY hopes and dreams are blown off, but King Princey Man wants to bail. I'd have a hell of a lot more respect for him if he'd get both a morning and evening paper route, preferably the bigger motor routes where he could make around $1,200 $1,400 a month. But no, delivering papers is "beneath" him. In my book, if you have a family, and you are a man, and you are not busting your ass to do something, ANYTHING to bring in money, you might as well drop your testicles in the trash. You are NOT a man, and until you get your ass in gear, deserve to be ridiculed.

If you are a Baby Boomer reading this, you didn't do anything first, or better than anyone else. And you're going to die like everybody else. Deal with it.

I hope this recession/depression throws Starbucks out of business. Not that we need to lose any more jobs, but when and why did people think it was economically wise to spend $4 a day on a cup of coffee?

Some of my crazier friends are getting on my nerves.

I look at the people I know on disability (four) and think, "geez, the government pays you to sit around all day, and what do you do?" Smoke, drink, watch cable, repeat. And some people on disability seem very able to be productive, which makes me wonder how they got on disability in the first place, and perhaps we ought to be more selective about the process. I should apply for disability. What's my disability? I don't like being around assholes.

Tomorrow I will measure my abdomen to see if my tumor has shrunk. I also need to go back to Coke Zero. Since my procedure, I've been drinking regular Coke, and I've been waking up at 2-3 in the morning hungry. Also need to put that battery in my scale so I can weigh myself.

My house plumbing is not working right. AND my car needs a new muffler. Since this month started, I've been spending money left, right and center.

Goodnight, all.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

The Joys of Publishing

I was at the library today and the woman checking out my books said she liked my column. I can't remember the last time I got recognized for my column, but it was nice.

Also, I wrote a story about Retroactive closing its doors. I pleaded to leave the opening the way it was. It included a profanity, but I felt it was very necessary to the story, and not just gratuitous cursing.

The story should be up at The name of the article is "Rose Hille is sick of the ...

Saturday, August 1, 2009

It Was Actually Good

Went to the drive-in last weekend and saw "G-force," which was awful, and "Up" which was actually good. "Up" had a fairly original plot, and some touching moments. "G-force" was about guinea pigs that did secret agent work for the government. It didn't make sense that the goverment types couldn't believe the guinea pigs could talk, but the kids who ended up buying them from the pet store had no problem believing they could. How does crap like this get made?!!!!!

Sunday, July 26, 2009

I Thought This Video Was Funny and True

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Sung To The Tune of "The Brady Bunch"

Here's the story,
of a great big uterus,
that was causing some discomfort to this chick.
All of it was self-contained, but rather full,
it made the chick look fat.

Here's the story,
of a great big tumor,
that was hanging out in this fat chick's abodomen,
she was bloated, all of the time, and sometimes had the runs.

Til the one day when the doctor said "enough now"
and told the chick she had to make a choice
either hysterectomy or U.A.E.
And so she raised her voice...

That tumor's lunch, that tumor's lunch
and that's the way U.A.E. gave it the crunch.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Hell's Fucking Kitchen

Made the mistake of leaving my television on Fox and walked in to hear Gordon Ramsay (why do people with British accents seem to strike terror in the hearts of Americans? Simon Cowell, Anne Whats-her-face from "The Weakest Link) and now the Kitchen Nazi. Red team vs. blue team during the shrimp cleaning challenge. Apparently the ladies lost. I've worked in a restaurant, and it totally sucks. And I really don't want to think about the people preparing my food. I love to eat out too much, but watching this show will ruin it for me, which is why I don't plan to watch it again. Also, I've never seen so many people on a reality show say the word "fuck" so much, but then, it's been a long time since I've watched Jerry Springer.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Schedule, Schmedule

They messed with my schedule again at work. It's a little disconcerting. Someone suggested I just set up a cot in back so I am at work. That way, I won't mistakenly think I have a day off when in reality I don't.

Truth is, times are tough. Some of the summer help is gone. And the legendary "Hundred Days of Hell" really hasn't materialized. Sure, we've had a couple days where our department got slammed, but if it's this slow NOW, I wonder what fall and winter will be like. Good thing I have a second job starting soon...

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Recognition, Writing and The Tumor

Today, someone said they read my column while they were eating breakfast. Another person suggested I write about customers. I must say, it's nice to finally get some recognition for my column after ONLY FIVE YEARS OF WRITING IT.

The customer column might be fun.

Only nine more days until my tumor goes on a forced diet. I will be happy if this takes a couple inches off my abdomen. After I saw the size of my tumor, it's no wonder doing all those stomach crunches didn't make a damn bit of difference. I could have done a thousand of them a day and lived on celery and water, and I would have lost weight, sure, but I would still have the tumor, and no chance of a flat stomach.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Yes, It Is A Baby Racoon

While out and about today, I ran into that famous nature actor, George COONey.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

It IS a Tumor!

I looked at the rest of my MRI films tonight with fascination. In one of the pictures, it looks like I'm pregnant. No wonder I have to pee a lot and I sometimes have to go to the bathroom very suddenly. I've also been working on my Governator accent, saying, "it IS a tumor!"

Monday, July 6, 2009

I Am Gloria's Tumor

This isn't one of those Rohrshach (or however you spell it) inkblots, this is a photo of an MRI scan taken yesterday morning of my pelvis. That big black blob in the middle is a fibroid tumor. It is 12 centimeters across. For those of you who don't speak metric, imagine a grapefruit. Now, imagine a grapefruit that is a little bigger than normal. Imagine that in my uterus.

We are gonna try and starve that fucker off. Stay tuned.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Into The Tube

Going for a pelvic scan tomorrow, then a consultation as to where to go next in terms of treatment.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Random Musings

I haven't been doing much with the digicam lately, but last night I taped a couple things and tonight I worked on my Daphne/Summit "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" video. I need more footage of them. Right now, I'm piecing what I have together, but the timing won't quite be right until I have enough footage. I want to match up some of the action in the video to some of the lyrics. Fortunately, the program I have (Magix Movie Edit Pro 15) will allow me to be precise on the timing. I already have an idea for another video, but will have to wait until TRF in order to get footage.

This cool weather is great on work days. It means if we have to carry something (and we always do) we don't get too sweaty. I wish I could control it so it warms up enough on my days off so that I can go swimming. It does seem really strange though, a week ago I was trying to cope with the heat and humidity, and yesterday I was regretting I wore shorts and a t-shirt. Had to put on a hoodie to feel comfortable.

I like a cool bedroom, so the window is open and the fan is on, so I can snuggle under my comforter. I feel like with the schedule I have now, it's impossible for me to get stuff done, but I have to remind myself that I AM employed, and with the second job starting in a couple months, my money situation will be much better. Even though it's 9:30 p.m., I am feeling sleepy. I have to be at work at 7 tomorrow, and last night I didn't get to sleep until after 1 a.m. However, I really felt like writing, so I think I started three essays/potential columns and should start working on a forth, except my notes are in the car and I don't want to get out of bed.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Yeah, I'm On Facebook

And I think I actually like it better than Myspace.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Simple Pleasures

One thing I look forward to once a week is having dinner at the Mandarin on Dupont Road. They have free high speed wireless Internet, so I watch YouTube videos while I eat some of the best Chinese food in town. I have to tell myself to concentrate on small, but wonderful things like this whenever life gets me down.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Gone Too Soon

I wasn't a huge fan of Michael Jackson, but I was shocked to see he'd died. Despite his problems, he was entertaining to watch and I marveled at his glass-shattering child-like voice. One of my favorite songs of his was "Ben." I wonder if his death will be like Elvis's. You know, Michael Jackson death week, like they do with Elvis in August. Too bad Neverland was sold. It could have been another Graceland. Already things seem fishy with that doctor who suddenly took off. I think there's more behind it than just being tired and underweight.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

The Vagina Monologues

Robert and I went to see “The Vagina Monologues” at the Firehouse Theater last night. It was a good show, very funny but also kinda sad. If you’ve never seen it, it talks about being a woman in an abusive relationships, rants about going to the gynecologist, and tampons. If you want your guy to know a little bit more about what women face, or if you want a girls’ night out, this is a show worth seeing. I spoke with Paul Allen and big changes are coming to the Firehouse. If you want to see the show, it runs again next Friday and Saturday at 8:15 p.m. The Firehouse Theater is at 1245 E. State Street. For more information, call 750-8308.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

I Don't Know Nothin' About Makin' Movies

When I was a kid, going to see “Gone With The Wind” with my mother was a torture. The movie is so damn long, and I didn’t really appreciate it.
It’s still not one of my favorite movies, but I popped it in tonight, for some reason. Maybe I wanted escape. I don’t know.
I’ve been paying a little more attention to movies lately, because Robert and I are hoping to do some visually creative stuff of our own. We purchased a digital video camera (our first joint purchase!) and I’ve been fiddling around with some editing software, even though it scares the hell out of me. It’s not the kind of software you can just fool around with. I think it’s complicated, and thankfully, it came with real, honest-to-God instruction manuals, instead of having to view them as a PDF. I’m not an expert, but week by week, I hope to learn something new.
In the meantime, I’m watching movies in a different way. Costuming, music, casting, surroundings… all of these are taking on new meaning right now. We hope to upload some funny stuff soon. Stay tuned.

Friday, May 29, 2009


I got two comments this week on my gray hair. Guess I should just buy a coffin and get it over with.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Blah Continued

I am still feeling very blah and that there’s nothing worth living for. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I do. Everything seems like an uphill battle. Tonight, I went for a drive and I went shopping. I’m still not at that point where I can let go of money and not feel guilty about it. I got some good news about my second job the other day, so hopefully I will be earning some extra cash. That’s always good.
I guess I need a goal. I’ve been feeling really tired lately. Guess it’s due to my low iron. I need to start taking iron tablets again, and some fresh vitamins. Better nutrition wouldn’t hurt either. I’ve been addicted to eating out lately, and the only thing I am looking forward to is where to eat when I get off work.
I am also afraid to touch my computer. It’s running slow. Everything got wiped off it because I took it in to get it looked at. I backed up what I could. I had to reinstall some things and I am terrified that my digital videos won’t work on the computer because of some codex thing. I have other software I can use, but I think my best bet is with Windows Movie Maker. I’d rather stick with one program and learn it.
The weather should be helping my mood, but all I want to do anymore is either go for long drives, or surf the net before I go to bed and sleep as late as I can.
People are really starting to get on my nerves too. Right after my mom died, I was terrified, because it’s like “now what do I do?” I realize I based my career choices on what I thought mom would approve of, and never moved out of the house because I thought she needed me. In later years, she did, but I didn’t realize I’d be shooting myself in the foot by not doing more career-wise when I was younger. I regret not moving away when I was younger and trying to do something with my writing then. I guess that’s why I feel like my life is over, and from here on out, it’s going to be nothing but working two jobs, being tired all the time, and then death.
Sorry this posting is so gloom and doom. But it’s what I’m feeling right now.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Garage Sale

My neighborhood association will be having a garage sale this coming Friday and Saturday. I will be putting some stuff out. I am gathering it together right now, and I plan to have a couple of small bookcases, a couple blankets, some electrical outlets, a corner baker's rack, a small table, an analog television set, a plastic wicker chair, two bureaus, winter gloves and mittens, and a walker. I will probably have lots of other stuff, like knickknacks, some books, some board games and possibly some of my mother's winter coats and clothing. A couple of friends are going in on the sale with me, and I don't know what they will be bringing. I know some gardening tools will show up at the sale. If you would like to know details, email me at Oh, I'll have some cassettes of big band and jazz, some albums and possibly some CDs as well. Also, possibly a loveseat and a hutch-type thing that would be suitable for storing china or whatever.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Friday, May 1, 2009


I was deleting some files last night, and I don’t know how the hell it happened, but the entire content of my documents file was deleted. I am usually very careful when I delete documents, but the whole thing is gone. My novel is gone. My ideas I created and sent to The Onion are gone. Some of my columns that I hadn’t sent into the Fort Wayne Reader are gone. Fuck.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Talking Heads

I was forced to listen to talk radio today. If this continues to happen, I may end up buying an iPod or an MP3 player sooner rather than later. I disliked WOWO when it went to an all talk format. I resented WGL for switching to all talk and cancelling my dad's radio show. I started to hate talk radio when my mom called Dave Macy and he made fun of her for driving a Neon. Today, I had to listen to an assortment of talking heads talk, talk, talk, with no solutions offered. My co-worker griped that it seemed that the media had nothing but liberals in it.
Except for Fox News, I responded, without even thinking about it.
That shut him up.
I forgot to also say and Sean Hannity, and Rush Limbaugh, and Ann Coulter, and Michelle Malkin and Cal Thomas and Thomas Sowell and John Stossel. These last two consider themselves Libertarian, but Libertarians are Republicans with a bit of intelligence and more exciting sex lives.
So the next time someone says the media is nothing but liberals, feel free to rattle off the list of names in the previous paragraph.
Of course, I could be fair and list an equal amount of names of liberal writers and organizations, but why would I do that?

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Pop Goes The Pimple

I suppose this is in poor taste, but has a gallery of celebrities with acne breakouts. It’s kinda fun to see who has pimples and who doesn’t. I must say, despite being broke, it’s inspiring to know I have better skin (on my face at least) than some of these people.

Sunday, April 5, 2009


I’ve only gotten out of bed a few times today—to get something to eat and to go to the bathroom. It’s rare that I have one of these “do nothing” days. But I guess I haven’t actually done nothing. I’ve written and posted something on a writing/social networking site and chatted online with someone who reads my column. But I was hit with fatigue last night, probably from my period. I also put in more than eight hours at my job yesterday, with my lunch break coming at the end of the eight hours. It’s complicated, but the way my job works, sometimes it’s absolutely impossible to clock out midday for lunch. And depending on the day’s schedule, calling a customer to say I’ll be out to his or her house right after I’ve finished lunch is a recipe for disaster, especially if the customer is waiting anxiously for his or her stuff.

Anyway, because I just didn’t want to get out of bed today, I’ve missed a friend’s birthday party. I’ll have to call and apologize, for not showing up, but on the other hand, I did have less than a week’s notice of the event. Robert called about quarter to six. We usually get together on Sunday nights, but tonight he picked up an extra shift, so I’ll probably force myself out of bed to have a late supper, then go back to bed and surf the ‘Net some more. I bought a 50-foot phone cord so I can now surf from my bed, and if that doesn’t turn me into a total bed potato, nothing will.

However, as I looked into the refrigerator tonight, I felt my bottom up near my back, and it feels firmer. That working out I’ve been doing must be paying off.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Make Those Rotten Little Kids Pay For Their Healthcare!!!

My ride-along needed to stop the other day, so I pulled into the nearest place I could find, which was Low Bob’s in Kendallville. I regretted it when I walked in and smelled cigarette smoke. Okay, so it was Low Bob’s, but I guess I don’t expect the employees of Cap and Cork to be drinking on the job.
Anyway, I used the bathroom and bought a snack. I glanced down at the flyer taped to the counter. It was written sarcastically, asking customers to thank their congressmen for a list of things, like higher cigarette tax and free health care for 11 million children. I thought about saying something to the cashier along the lines of, “yeah, those kids should get jobs and pay for their OWN health care!” but I was afraid the irony would be lost on her.
I thought about how hypocritical we are as a nation. Just earlier that morning, I saw a guy on the news who was giving a presentation to children about now not to become a victim of sexual abuse. He said something along the lines of “children are our most precious resource.” If they are, why did the author of that flyer seem to think that health care for children was wrong?
Because it comes at the smoker’s expense.
A story I read on ( said the CIA World Factbook estimates the United States’ rate of infant mortality is comparable to Croatia, Lithuania and Taiwan. Just about every European country is ahead of us when it comes to keeping their newborns alive. I don’t have to mention the fact that they have universal health care plans, but I will.
But getting back to the smokers and their rage at higher taxes. I wonder how many of these smokers have kids, and how many of these smokers have health care insurance. I wonder how many of the smokers’ health insurance covers their kids. I’m willing to bet the cashier who rung me up at Low Bob’s has a totally sweet health insurance plan. I didn’t get a chance to ask her, but I’m SURE she does.
Sarcasm aside, I’d like to point out there are some things that are taxpayer funded, and they don’t all completely suck. Driven on a road or walked on a sidewalk lately? Ever have to use the services of the police or fire department? Did you go to public school? Use a library? Well, shame on you for using these horrible, socalist services and facilities. You should have educated yourself, put out your own fire, shot the intruder and built your own roads and sidewalks. Okay, I’m being sarcastic again, but I’m also pointing out the hypocrisy that runs rampant in this country. Some things are okay for taxpayers to pay for, but other things, like our health, aren’t. Do you know how many people repeatedly call the police, or goof off in school? THEY are wasting MY money! That’s one of the arguments I hear from people who don’t want to pay for other people’s medical problems. Well, someone else is going to complain about paying for YOUR medical problems. My tax money is being used to pay for people on disability who spend their days drunk. It also goes to pay for women who can’t use birth control competently. There are lots of things my tax dollars pay for that I don’t approve of. I heard a Libertarian who was PROUD of the fact he was getting disability. A true Libertarian would scrape by on his own efforts.
Everyone these days wants their cut. EVERYONE. Those who disapprove of Obama’s stimulus plan are the same folks who use WIC. A conservative co-worker of mine mentioned using WIC, which pretty much convinced me that people are generally okay with government programs. They may not admit it. But when they lose their job, they want their unemployment checks. They may frown on welfare and disability for others, but as soon as their ass is in trouble, they are looking for their share.
I wasn’t eligible for unemployment this past summer, nor was I able to get food stamps. One source of income was the shitty ice cream truck driving job (I brought home, after paying for truck rental, gas, and insurance, anywhere from $5 to $40 a day. And the $40 dollar day was rare. I averaged closer to $15-20 a day.) I also mowed lawns for a couple of friends, and did a couple odd jobs for one of them. I think I sold some DVDs and CDs. Imagine what I would have gone through if I’d had a family. It was just me, a dog and a cat. But I felt incredible bitterness and resentment that my college degree, writing skills, typing skills and phone skills weren’t enough to get me a job. If I’d gotten unemployment, would I have languished until the benefits had run out? No. I would have still searched frantically for a job. But maybe the daily panic attacks I had when I woke up wouldn’t have been so bad. I wouldn’t have worried about having my utilities shut off. I did get a little bit of assistance with that, but if I’d gotten unemployment, I wouldn’t have had to get the assistance.
But it was the scariest time of my life.
I’m not opposed to helping people out. But certain people are. Take away a person’s job, savings, shelter and possessions, and I’m sure you’ll find a different person from the formerly employed individual with a savings account and a place to live. But when the jobs aren’t there, the money is gone and you have no place to live and you’re trying your best to survive and there isn’t any help available, then what?
If a college educated woman with a specialized license had to scramble four months before she found a full time job that pays less than $13 an hour, what hope does an uneducated person have? Or someone who was recently incarcerated? Or someone who was sick but wants to reenter the workforce?

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Brunette Ambition

Wow. Four blog postings in one day. What’s wrong with me?

Why Even Bother?

Friday night, I swept, mopped and waxed the floors, and less than 48 hours later, Daphne pees on the kitchen floor. Twice. I wonder why I even bother trying to keep this place clean. She is housebroken, but every so often leaves a deposit. I found the puddle early this afternoon while walking barefooted. Yum. This year is the year I’m going to try and make some progress in this junk-filled house. I’ve asked my brother if he wants some of this stuff, but as usual, he dodges the question. I’m going to start giving stuff away, or sell it or throw it out, because my house isn’t a home, it’s a giant storage facility. And I would say at least half of the stuff that is here, I don’t use. The amount of clutter is mindblowing. I don’t remember it being anywhere near as bad when there were five people living here. Now there’s just me, and it’s really starting to get annoying.


Daylight Savings Time has started again, and that is really going to screw me up. I slept super late Saturday and today, so now I feel like I’m going to bed early, but I have to, because I’m due at work at 7 a.m. I nearly forgot to change my clocks again. Ugh.


I’ve been seeing the promos for “Better Off Ted,” and I’m not sure I’ll be watching it, but the music took me back to my younger years, when dad would blare Latin music from the 50’s from the stereo. The promo music is “Mambo Jambo” by Perez Prado, and I happened to have a recording of it, plus “Mambo Number Five” (not the Lou Bega version) and “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White.” It’s catchy, and makes me want to dance on a beach somewhere with some really good orange juice.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Someone Pass Her Some Midol!!!

Why are people so concerned about the rich? They are going to be taxed more (we ALL are) but from the sound of ordinary people, the rich are going to be taxed to death and something HAS TO BE DONE!
Who gives a shit about the rich? I mean, there is just SO much to be concerned about with them. They are only making $250,000 a year or more, and God knows, that is a pittance to survive on. I really, really feel for them. After all, if they are taxed on half their income, they’re only going to have $125,000 left to live on in a whole years’ time! That’s hardly anything!
My neighbor was telling me how bad things were going to get and how concerned she was about the rich. “They donate to the Salvation Army.” Oh, really? And poor people don’t? I guess my $10 donation last year didn’t go very far. I also gave to the Rescue Mission and Community Harvest Food Bank, in addition to paying off six of my delinquent bills.
The only reason poor people are concerned about the rich is the same reason people are concerned about celebrities they will never meet. We want to be rich and famous. We are delusional to think that we too, some day, will be rich. The poor freak out about additional taxes slapped on the rich because the poor believe if they work hard enough, THEY will be rich too! Fools!
We are all doomed in some way, shape or form. The taxes will be on the rich, but they will trickle down to us because the rich can find ways to dodge taxes, but the poor can’t. America is going down. This is no accident. All the great empires fell, so will we. It’s all been engineered by the powers that be, and China will take over. Think about it. We’re all fat, we are all on medication. Does that sound like a healthy nation to you? We are obsessed with small electronics that we can’t repair, so when they break, we buy more. We watch crap on television, and don’t bother with a simple phone call to any of our elected officials to tell them what assholes they are, or what we would like to see happen in government. No, we have more important things to worry about. Video games, television shows, movies, music, iPods, cell phones, 42 inch plasma screen televisions, xBox 360’s, PlayStation 3’s, downloads of ringtones, songs, shows, movies, Saturday Night Live skits, comedy bits, text messaging, where does it stop? I guess when everyone is on unemployment and we turn to crime to supplement our food stamps.
So meanwhile, let’s praise the rich while they are still rich. Whatever would we do without them? We wouldn’t know how to dress, or what shoes, bags, sunglasses, cars, or jewelry to buy. We’d have no one to look up to. So let’s all lick the assholes of the rich. They deserve it!
FUCK THAT SHIT! Send rich kids to Iraq and Afghanistan. Let their parents work shitty jobs so they know what life COULD be like. Take away all their resources and contacts and money and let’s see them look for a job. Let’s tell them they are lazy when they put out 20 applications in a week and no one calls them for an interview. Let’s tell them handouts are for wimps and let them scrape along on their own wits until they finally flip out and steal a gun and go on a killing spree. What fun! At least there would be fewer people clawing over unemployment benefits and food stamps.
So if you are rich and reading this, you can lick my ass. You tell me if I worked hard, I could have what you have. I got news for you: the poor probably work way harder at shittier jobs than you do, and they know they will never be rich. If hard work equaled wealth, we’d have more rich than poor. Just about everyone I know would be rich. You lucked out and you know it. There are smarter people, more ambitious people, more DESERVING people who work their asses off, and will never get anywhere higher than mere survival.
Enjoy it! Your time is coming!

This post was brought to you by Gloria, who is currently on the rag. Yeah, fuck you too.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Oscar 2009

I just got back from watching the Oscars at a friend’s house, and I’m happy to say out of 24 categories, I picked half correctly. I think that’s really good considering I only saw three movies that were nominated for anything (“Milk,” “Frost/Nixon” and “Australia.”) The categories I nailed were Best Original Screenplay, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Animated Film, Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography, Best Actor, Best Documentary Feature, Best Original Score, Best Makeup, Best Sound Mixing, Best Visual Effects, and Best Live Action Short Film.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Not Worth It

I usually love Family Guy, but last night’s episode was disappointing. Bonnie finally having her baby was nice, but the whole episode wasn’t worth staying up for. That scene with the reel-to-reel tape player was just way too long. I thought about going to bed before the show started, but didn’t. I wish I would have.

Friday, February 13, 2009

My Opinons on Octomom and British Boy Daddy

A co-worker asked me if I ever wrote a column on pet peeves. I complain about lots of stuff, but maybe it’s time to do a round up of stuff that ticks me off. Because I can’t wait, I’m going to comment on Octomom and the 13-year-old British father.
First off, I know times are hard, but why do people insist on having kids when they can’t afford them? Do people plan for kids anymore? Or is it just go ahead and have kids anyway?
Frankly, the whole idea of having kids scares the hell out of me. Looking at my history, I probably shouldn’t have kids. Health problems, ongoing financial crisis, crappy, low-paying jobs. Where’s my big, fat “thank you” from the U.S. Government or the state of Indiana saying, “thank you Gloria, for not having any kids you can’t afford?” Hell, where’s my thank you from ANYONE? Instead, I’m left out of the conversation when co-workers talk about the wacky, and downright dangerous things their kids do. I try to keep the smile off my face when they go on about near accidents with stoves, cars, knives, etc.
So here’s the chick out in California (figures) who has six kids, but decided that wasn’t enough. Now, she’s a mom of 14 and is already on food stamps. According to some quotes from her via the New York Post, she will be able to support her kids after she completes her masters in counseling. Yup, and I thought I’d make lots of money once I got my commercial driver’s license, so I’d be able to pay off all my bills and then be able to save enough to move to Canada. We all have our little delusions. Whether it’s wanting to write the Great American Novel by the time you’re 30, or wanting to become middle class, we all want something.
And this chick wants kids. Never mind she has a bad back and is prone to depression. She gets disability, and all is right with the world. Meanwhile, there are thousands of couples who are working, sane, and would make great parents, yet can’t conceive. Instead, they wait to adopt babies, placing ads in hopes some unwed pregnant chick picks them to be the parents. Anyone can have kids in this country, which is why you end up with idiots like Octomom.
Then, there’s the 13-year-old British kid who just had a baby with his 15-year-old girlfriend. This is stupidity beyond belief. When asked what he was going to do about the financial side of things, the kid didn’t know what “financial” meant. Oh well. At least they’ll be on the British welfare rolls, and not ours.
Yes, children are a gift from God. Even if the people who are “gifted” rely on high technology to conceive, or are just too damned dumb to know any better. I think we can all agree the Octomom’s kids and the British baby born to a kid whose voice hasn’t changed yet aren’t going to change the world for the better. They’ll be thugs, unwed mothers, or perhaps, due to the state of the world, celebrity do-nothings.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

That's Cinncredible!

A couple weeks ago, I felt the need to consume a cinnamon roll. I had one, but it wasn’t enough. I went to Meijer and tried a “Cinncredible,” a box of cinnamon rolls. They had two sizes there, a smaller one for one person or a couple, and a family version. I have to say it’s the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had in my life. The icing must have been at least a half-inch thick, if not three-quarters of an inch thick. Cinncredible is only available at Meijer’s. It’s nice to know that Wal-mart doesn’t hog all the stuff. Cinncredible is totally worth it.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

A Rare Two-Sport Post

I knew the Steelers would win, because the Cardinals are not a real team. I first heard about them in the movie “Jerry Maguire,” so I assumed since I’d not heard of the Cardinals in real life, I thought they were a fictional NFL team created for the movie. Since this is the first time I’ve heard of the team since seeing “Jerry Maguire,” I’m still convinced they are not a real NFL team. It’s like Harry Potter winning the National Geography Bee. It can’t happen, because Harry Potter is not real.

Funnily enough, swimmer Michael Phelps seems to be following in the arrogant, stupid footsteps of Mark Spitz. A British tabloid published a picture of him smoking pot through a bong. Nice. All he needs is a statutory rape charge and a holdup, and he’ll almost be a football player.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Much Too Late For Goodbye

I saw in today’s Journal Gazette that the Acme was going to close Sunday at 1 a.m. I swung by to get a last order of onion rings and a Coke, but they were already closed. Some other disappointed diners who pulled in when I did exchanged words about the closing. It’s sad. The Acme had good food and it was a nice atmosphere. I hope the economy doesn’t take out any more local restaurants, but the way things seem to be going, who knows who will be next? The 412 Club bit the dust a while back, too. I really don’t want my next hangout to be some sterilized, corporate America, cookie-cutter dwelling that looks like every other location in the chain.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Roe v. Wade

I was just watching the news and they had a report on the anti-abortion demonstration which took place in downtown Fort Wayne today. Several people were holding signs that said “Abortion Kills Children.” Well, so does bad parenting, car accidents, poor nutrition, swimming pools, psychos and freak accidents, but you don’t hear anyone wanting to make any of these things illegal.

Reading Is Fundamental

This photo of Bush was taken on my last trip to Toronto. Thankfully, there are audiobooks, so if Bush can’t read, he can just listen to the tape or CD. Hopefully, he knows how to work a tape player or CD player.

New Humor Blog Latest to Clog Up FW Blogosphere

Because I’m bored and need a laugh, I’ve started (well, okay, Robert set it up) a humor blog. Since we are both fans of The Onion, expect funny, fake news stories, misspelled signs and other mayhem. Check it out at

Monday, January 19, 2009

And He's Outta Here!

Inauguration Day is tomorrow. Let’s hope that the Obama era isn’t as bad as the last eight years. I don’t expect miracles, but I do expect a more articulate president than Bush. As Denis Leary said (and this is a paraphrase) I want my president to be a better person than I am. Not that the average American is Denis Leary, but I understood what he meant. You want the leader of your country to be able to pronounce words, be articulate, and know a lost cause when he sees one. Or maybe, it’s too late for that. Out of the millions of crappy jobs out there, Obama has to have the worst one. As an Onion headline stated, “Black Man Given Nation’s Worst Job.” Funny, but it has a ring of truth to it.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

New Restaurant For Downtown Fort Wayne

Coming to downtown Fort Wayne just in time for the opening of Harrison Square is Peckers, a restaurant catering to female sports fans. “Pecker Boys” will wear yellow Speedos and serve chicken planks, fries, and will offer “lite” fare for sporty ladies looking to watch their weight.
A spokesperson for Peckers says Fort Wayne is an “ideal” location for the new fast food chain, a feminist response to Hooters.
“If women agree to serve food to fat guys too chicken to walk into a strip club, and are willing to work for $2.33 an hour plus tips, we figure we can find men who are willing to wear skimpy swimsuits and do basically the same thing.”
The spokesperson admitted that because of the Peckers philosophy of finding comely, fit men to be Pecker Boys, the entire Fort Wayne staff was imported from more physically fit areas of the country, like Southern California.
“If Hooters doesn’t have fat-ass, ugly women, we feel we shouldn’t have fat-ass, ugly guys,” said the spokesperson. “These men are indeed servers, but they are sex objects as well. We want the ladies of Fort Wayne to be confident they will have quality food brought to them by handsome, fit men, unlike the guys they are married to.”
The spokesperson expects more Peckers to spring up over northeast Indiana in the next three years.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Feel My Pain, Part 2

I don’t live in an ancient house, but it’s not new, either. It’s very small, so the washer and dryer are in the kitchen. The drain pipe for the washer is in the corner behind the stove. For years, it was draining properly, but in the last year, the drain pipe is draining slower than the washer. So this means whenever I do a load in the washer, I have to listen carefully and run into the kitchen to turn off the washer, let the water in the drain pipe go down, then click the machine on again. I do this about two dozen times per load. I had a friend clean out the sewer pipe last January, and that didn’t solve the problem, and neither did Roto Rooter when they came out two months later, in March. Not even after they had to bring out a special machine that would add several thousand pounds of pressure to blow the crap in the pipes out. I don’t have the luxury of throwing a load in the wash and doing something else, like taking a nap or running errands. I have to babysit the washer, or else the water will overflow the outtake drain pipe and flood the kitchen floor. The house probably needs new plumbing, new floors, new windows and probably several other things, but unless I win the lottery, few, if any of things will happen. I’m still trying to get back on my feet after the worst spring and summer of my financial life. I know the issue will have to be addressed, but I hope it is later rather than sooner.

Feel My Pain, Part 1

I’ve been feeling dissatisfied lately. I’ve had more time to dwell on it because I’m only working one job. I think part of the reason I try and work two jobs is so I don’t have spare time to think about the way I think my life should be. I’m always dissatisfied though. Nothing is ever enough, and it’s driving me nuts. Things could be so much worse, and I realize this, but I am an impatient person, and the older I get, the more I realize time is running out.

I also feel like Scarlett O’Hara after her mother died. With no field hands to do the work, Scarlett had to go out and do it herself. Realizing she was ill-suited for manual labor, she lamented the fact that her mother basically taught her how to be a lady, but didn’t teach her anything useful. I’ve learned that having a college degree plus being resourceful and working hard doesn’t mean anything anymore. But these are crazy times we are living in. In short, I feel like I’ve been cheated. I did what I thought was right, played by the rules, and I’m still struggling at a time in my life when I should be firmly entrenched in a career. But I’m not the only one. I need to keep reminding myself of that. It’s hard though, when you show up at a temp agency, and the only difference between you and the recent immigrant is that your skin is lighter and you have a better command of the English language. To the temp agency, you are two warm bodies fighting over a job.

I also don’t like the fact that I get bored easily, especially when it comes to jobs. I asked to learn something new at my day job, and I was taught in a matter of minutes. Now, I guess I need practice. I like learning a lot, and I am in a continual quest to learn as much as possible in order to add yet another skill to my résume. I don’t know when this boredom with jobs started. There was one place that I worked on and off (mostly on) for eight years. It was repetitive work, yet the only times I didn’t work there was when I was laid off twice. I came back after a couple months or so. I don’t remember being bored with the job, which I can’t quite understand. There was little chance of advancement. I don’t know if my personal life was so satisfactory that it made up for the job, or what.

Anyway, I am not looking forward to the future with pleasure. It’s crazy times, but there’s a sense of failure that I’m struggling with. There are certain things I wanted out of life that I fear I will never get. My career expectations are falling lower and lower. I need to take pride in some things I’ve accomplished, but I’m hard on myself, as well as others. I’m always looking for “the next big thing,” and even if I get a book published or win a contest, or whatever, I can’t seem to enjoy it. I’m always looking for what’s next. In some ways that’s healthy, but in other ways, it’s not good.

I’ve been dreaming about my parents lately. Speaking of looking for what’s next, I have to say I’ve been looking back to simpler, better times. Times when my parents were alive and life didn’t seem as bleak as it does now. I always assume that things will stay the same and never change. Of course, stuff does change. But I miss the old days of when I was a kid and I really didn’t have to worry about stuff. Deep down, I want to be taken care of. I’m not good with office politics. I’m too honest for my own good. I trust too much. I’m naïve. I’ve been “dive bombed” (an expression I made up) by so-called friends. “Dive bombing” is when I think things are going along well, then they do something that just totally shocks me. It’s usually something downright rude. I’ve basically shut two people out of my life because they did that to me. Perhaps what goes round does come round, because one of them became homeless and bounced from hotel room to hotel room; the other one ended up in a mental hospital and kept calling me, begging to be friends again. Once you cross me, that’s it.

So that’s where I am right now. Tired of trying, but there’s really no alternative. Given up on my dreams. Wanting to be somewhere else, but can’t. There’s plenty to be thankful for, but I guess if you’re raised in America, you think if you work hard and try and do the right thing, you’ll get ahead. That isn’t true anymore. That’s why I see a future for myself working two jobs when I can fit them in my schedule, never getting out of debt, and eventually dying. That’s not the most positive outlook for the new year, but it’s exactly how I feel. Sorry, folks.