30 September 2007

3 september: a revue

(in no particular order & uttered by various citizens of the Oline in the City world)

"terrorism is all around us, people. it's in our dinnerware and our dixie chicks."

"we are totally freaking ourselves out because a man may or not be dead or sleeping in our parking lot."

"have i told you i'm painting my bedroom?"
"WHAT?!? hell no, you've never told me about your indian background."

"i hate talking during intimate moments because there's nothing you can say that doesn't sound like it came from a movie."

"seriously. i'm like a newborn deer in these shoes. why do I keep wearing them? because they are the cutest things ever. but yes. yearling."

"maybe that's why she couldn't give the info over the PA system or in a memo... because people needed to gather to see her accessories."

"he was barely a friend before he hurdled into 'you are the one'ness."

"new life, new people... and no one to say 'ooh, you got glasses!'"

"it's nothing a trip to the bathroom can't fix."

"why stress out over something when you don't even know what it is?"

"yeah, well, you know i am my mother."

"it does not pay to be in the fourth row when there's full-frontal."

"look at you being all glam like one of those sex & the city girls we're always talking bad about."

"this is going to be SUCH fun. we're going to have SUCH a good time... yeah, is it really obvious i SO don't want to go?"

"the sunset is so beautiful. can you hear it?"

"you don't have to apologize for coughing. i'm in no position to judge. my entire lifestyle has been subsidized by phlegm."

"is it ok to very calmly begin counting down?"

27 September 2007

16 excitement.

tomorrow croftie and i are going to arby's. like mostly everything croftie and i ever do, this is the most exciting thing in the world.

because i'd somehow almost completely forgotten about arby's. for years, arby's has seemed like sonic-- something that midwestern cities shouldn't have just by virtue of it being so very utterly southern. and then there it was yesterday- right smack dab in the center of state street, less than a block from the building in which i spend every waking, working day. arby's. oh my God. i am healed.

24 September 2007

21 September 2007

51 this is why drugs are good

this morning i woke up with no voice.

i subsequently had 5 cups of hot tea.

it is 9.36 a.m.

i feel like i could fly.

18 September 2007

8 things fall apart

there's something wickedly fabulous about situations in which absolutely everything that could possibly go wrong does. it's almost too perfectly beautiful-- that fate could be so well-scripted.

i'm dealing with a certain man of a certain age. he is to be in a certain city with some damn dishes to deliver a special speech tomorrow. we've known this since june, and though i'm a pretty optimistic gal, even back then, as the project was being doled out onto my plate, my first thought was: catastrophe!

but this is more than a self-fulfilling prophesy. it's akin to watching a movie you've seen a thousand times and laughing just before all the jokes. you are prepared. you can see it coming, in all its awful hilarity.

therefore it was no surprise when this certain man would espouse beliefs along the lines that "if you break a plate, you become more dangerous than anything on 9/11." when five days ago he forgot that he was giving a speech. when friday he refused to bring the damn dishes. when yesterday it took a three hour phone call to bring him back around. when this morning, we realized he was going to be asked to gate-check and would pitch a fit.

and thus, it was absolutely no surprise at all when his flight was cancelled.

the road to inevitable disaster is paved with many laughs.

16 September 2007

7 mirror mirror on the wall, who has the best self-esteem of all?

i'm going to say this woman. because it's pretty ballsy (ahem... crazy? [no judgment!]) to appear on the back cover of your intellectually provocative NYT nonfiction bestseller in full medieval dress- replete with tiara and heaving bosom.

this photograph raises many important questions. does this woman, in fact, live her everyday life in full medieval dress? or does she just write in it? does she give readings and lectures in character as a medieval wench? does her husband mind? is her dry cleaning bill enormous? does she live in a castle? does she secretly rock out to avril lavigne?

13 September 2007

5 this is why drugs are bad

today my brain is bleeding. thus, in an unfortunate career move, i turned to ibuprofen, taking a dose rather way beyond the recommendation. as a result, i just ended a voice message to a client with the line "i love you! bye!"

how do we think one recovers one's professional credibility after that?

07 September 2007

0 these people

my mum (whom i love love love) occasionally says things that blow me away. in church a few months ago there was a random remark about how "we don't believe in women ministers." we don't?! and here all along i thought i was being a good girl by not dealing dope or whoring myself out on the streets, all the while unknowingly harboring sinful beliefs that maybe women ministers are kind of kick-ass.

i'd only just barely reconciled myself to this discrepancy in our belief systems when, in a discussion with my grandmother, she said: "there are These People who see health care as a human right..."

that sounds cruel. it wasn't cruel when she said it. she said it as though it were a fact. as though health care were obviously a privilege. i sat beside her as one of These People, feeling like al sharpton and trying to fathom how medical treatment could possibly be seen as anything other than a human right. deeply influenced by the egalitarianism that characterized all 124 episodes of dr. quinn, i couldn't so i kept quiet.

because this is what we have learned in my family. there are things you have to let go. fights you just don't fight, because we are a peaceful tribe.

my grandfather worked for exxon for decades. as a result, he is fundamentally incapable of acknowledging the existence of global warming. to him, it is a preposterously far-fetched, media-hyped delusion akin to big foot or scientology.

i don't know what this signifies. i think it signifies something- that some meaning must be there- though i don't know what the hell it is. all i can come up with is that if i had helped contribute to global warming and wasn't going to be around to see its effects, i too would probably be indulging in some serious denial right about now. and if i'd never been without insurance, maybe i'd see health care as a privilege to be earned rather than a human right. maybe that's the lesson to be learned here. or maybe there's no lesson at all and i'm just making An Issue out of nothing. i don't know.

but for seven days i've been wallowing through an ear infection. i have insurance but i also have a doctor who plays hard to get, enough so that i was forced to hoof into walgreens to be carded for a damn box of sudafed and ultimately had to take an afternoon off without pay to fork over three day's salary for a visit to a doc-in-the-box. all this and i'm insured. heaven help Those People who aren't.

06 September 2007

0 sleep less

when i was in high school, there would be these mornings where i'd wake up at school. i wouldn't remember driving there. i'd just somehow wind up shoving my books into my locker outside of latin. these were usually the mornings after the nights when i couldn't sleep and if you really think about it, that's really really scary. that i was out there... on the road... half-asleep.

since i entered the after-high school world, there've been plenty of sleepless nights, but i can't remember having one of those mornings where i wake up in the midst of some random task. i almost assumed that those mornings no longer existed. that is, until this morning- when i woke up dousing my contacts in astringent.

03 September 2007

4 one guess

who wishes everyone would move to chicago so her oline would never have to leave town again?

01 September 2007

1 august: a revue

(in no particular order & uttered by various citizens of the Oline in the City world)

"he looks like an aged drag queen who was never introduced to SPF."

"after i got back from dinner, he was not here, so i have no idea what his bare legs could possibly look like."

"i think i have a problem. oh well, at least its in my pants and not out in the open."

"but what is the worst that can happen? you stand in the corner and no one talks to you? to prepare for this worst case scenario, just wear cute shoes that you can stare at the whole evening."

"it's been an experience but not really one i'd ever like to repeat."

"i think this is the most oline we've ever had out in the city."

"be careful. he might be dangerous."
"he listens to foreigner. i don't think people who listen to foreigner can be dangerous."

"you guys are talking atop a bed of sand and plywood, with mild excitement that it could become more, say, a high-rise of love..."

"she blames everything- even peeing- on the weather."

"remember that time i tried to put my hand down your pants?"
"yeah, what was that about?"
"i don't know. i guess i thought we were going places."

"you ok? you weren't screamed at were you? you're looking kind of like you were screamed at."

"i've been with WOMEN! well... two."

"is this what happens when you go Out There? if so, i sure as hell want to go back in!"

"apparently this is your ridiculous life now. people will shake your hand and say strange things."

"he asked me to marry him. and you know me. i so don't want to get married right now, so i just said, 'um... no. can we get back to dinner?'"

"we're up to our ears in tasks over here."


"it's like i've signed an unwritten spoken verbal contract."

"there are people in here who are not related to us, so i wouldn't be dancing like that."

"fun times. not really, but it pays. and even unfun times can be fun if they pay. and yes, i am aware that's probably the logic of prostitutes, but i'm ok with it."