Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death
Monday, October 03, 2005
New rule: No Stouffer’s french breads before bed
because it's never pleasant to dream that one of your most beloved exes has been mowed down in a hail of gunfire because he didn't kowtow to the county's political party line.

Yeah. Lemme 'splain.

See, the county in which I live and breathe is exTREMEly political and therefore exTREMEly, and rather bizzarely, corrupt. Like, as in, people in high places know which way their employees vote; the person elected as the County Clerk is still working as an attorney full-time; and nepotism, nepotism nepotism to beat the band, among other various and sundry situations unbecoming to public office. Well, said ex was never one to tout the party line.

(Sighs dreamily)

About J: Met him at an 80s party that a couple of my respectable married friends held what, seven years ago (OMG). He was a deputy prosecuting attorney for the county, six years my senior and just incredibly brilliant and intense. And motherfucker could COOK -- I mean, like gourmet stylee. He could take leftovers that he had in his fridge for like weeks and turn them into restaurant food. He lived in the Miller section of Gary about 100 yeards from the beach, and I was crazy about him. My friends and I had these delusions that he and I would become this power boho couple, living by the beach and throwing interesting parties with our interesting friends, never mind that between the two of us, we wouldn't have cleared $50,000. Still! We would be witty and urbane! A power couple in the County of Lake, if you will.

That of course was before he dumped me after a month and I went all crazy pussy on him, back in the day when I was wont to try entirely too hard. He is also a non-exaggerated alcoholic, actually losing his law license for six months because of two DWIs within something like two months of each other. (The second one, he was driving home from the bar that was maybe 3/4 of a mile from his crib, and he flipped off the Gary P.D. Heh. That's my J.)

It's here that the dream picks up.
It is the job of a good person to be honest. To be self-aware. To deliberately explore the fault lines of your character and try desperately to not inflict suffering in this strange, ghost-ridden world of worked and fabricated objects. Sometimes the jobs of writer and good person coincide. But more often they don’t. There are way more writers in the world than there are good people.

100 things
Info meme #1
Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.

Give it to me, baby.

Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...

The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:

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Broad said: Like I said, my feelings are complicated on the matter, so ... I’m interested, however, in Her Highness’ thoughts on… ...[go].

Caterina said: ARGH!!! Not to deny you your goddess-given right of reflections and wishing what might-have-beens, but this guy was straight up… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: By the by, guess who was most nasty about the charitable giving?  The frigging church.  My church and my mom’s… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: By the by, I’m not the only one I know.  I have friends who work at soup kitchens because they’re… ...[go].

Wholovesya? said: As you know, I was a voyeur to the beginning of this, and I was loving your comment!  I have… ...[go].

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This explains that large bit of type at the top.

Tagline by Ben F'in Mollin, talking about those times you wake up still drunk from the night before.


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