Thursday, June 28, 2007

The Boys in the Band

I feel like I'm going to have to learn medical billing, accounting, and how to answer phones in a less gravelly voice in the near future.


I'm going back on The Diet, and this time I mean it.


I watched another gay movie on TCM the other night, called The Boys in the Band. I fell asleep a few minutes into it because it was on really late. It was made in 1970 and it consisted of a bunch of gay archetypes living in the Village who called each other 'cunt' a lot. I'm sure it was very cutting edge for it's time. It even showed an ass. Maybe more than one. I can't remember. But I did not allow Jethro to service me afterwards. Gay guys don't do it for me and I'm reasonably sure they don't do it for him either. But it was a good movie, and I hope to be able to finish it someday.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007


Rosie "I-Hate-Guns" O'Donnell's little girl

Hamas "I-Hate-Jews" Terrorist's little girl

Monday, June 25, 2007

Slices of Life

So many exciting things are happening, but they are the most boring things in the world to blog about. I'll try though.

1. My mom isn't getting divorced.

No new daddies. And while this isn't terribly exciting, it is annoying. I don't care whether she divorces Step-dad or not. I just want her to shut the hell up about it already. And I don't want to take care of her when she's old, so I'm kind of hoping she stays with him. He's weird and mean sometimes, but he loves her in his own bizarre way. And she is not trained for any job other than placating bizarre and sometimes mean people.

2. I can't talk much about #2 because it's business related. But it's making me very happy and frightened.

3. One of my sisters has decided she's a Lesbian.

She's not, but everyone is humoring her since she is anticipating persecution and no one wants to be THAT person.

4. Jethro's boss is a psycho.

I know I've talked about it to the point of my own psychosis, but she left a message on Jethro's cell phone last night that was so long, it cut her off. Then she called back to continue saying, "Hmmm....I guess your phone cut out..."

Jethro let me listen to one of her rants one morning on speaker and I'm appalled at what he has to put up with. I would have committed murder months ago.

One of the problems is that she gets very defensive when she loses an employee. The latest front desk girl walked out as soon as she got her last paycheck and took her own bin that she had brought with her. Part of the conversation I heard detailed how selfish Front Desk Girl was for taking back her own bin. According to Dr. Psycho, this meant that Front Desk Girl didn't care about Dr. Psycho's business. Dr. Psycho is the only person I've ever encountered who could marvel at the fact that an low-earning employee wouldn't care about her business for 20 minutes without ceasing. And this is just on the phone. Lord knows how long she goes on about it when he isn't trying to get ready for work...

I'm mildly concerned with how insane she's going to go when she discovers that Jethro has made plans for his future without telling her. Heaven forbid she think he doesn't care about her business.

5. I really do have a book planned in my head.

My life is a plethora of half-written melodramas, but I really like this one. Maybe I'll finish it when I'm 90.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Mind Sludge

This is not going to be a good day. The new front desk girl at Jethro's work quit. This is the eighth one they've lost this year. It couldn't possibly have had anything to do with his hag of a boss lecturing for hours on why it is so important to put the green paper clips in the blue container and the red paper clips in the purple container. More likely it's just her caliber (as his boss so logically explains to anyone who asks why she has such trouble keeping employees).

Every time I see her, I want to rip every feathered, lacquered strand of hair from her head. And I'd be doing her a favor. You can take the girl out of Jersey.....

Anyway, Jethro is going to be doing the front desk work and seeing patients while she busily talks without ceasing. I'm not sure what I can do to make him feel better. I honestly don't know how he got out of bed this morning.

So I put the question to the Blogosphere. What would make you happy after a helluva day at the office?


Now on an even more personal note, my mom filed for divorce from Stepdad again. But this time she paid the attorney. I guess she's serious. So this means she's going to be single again. Anyone want to be my daddy?

The thing is, I don't care anymore. I think she's batshit crazy for leaving Stepdad since she is unskilled, uneducated, and Stepdad is a vindictive bastard who will begrudge her every penny of child support, but she is the one who got herself into this mess and she refuses to acknowledge any idiocy on her part. I want to say she's suffered enough, but she really hasn't. I don't think she knows what to do if she's not suffering.

I read somewhere that everyone grieves differently and the length of time one grieves is different to each person. In response to a question on how long the grieving process takes, the answer was "whenever you don't want to grieve anymore."

And this is true. I grieved for years after my dad died. I drank, I wept (usually at the same time), and I suffered. I cut myself off from any true emotional contact with anyone unless it was to commiserate over mutual tragedy. And then I stopped.

There was no grand revelation that my health was on the brink of collapse, or even that Jethro's love was healing my troubled soul. I didn't have an epiphany where I realized that my dad wouldn't want me to suffer so. I'd already known that. And my stubborn mourning was probably as much a form of rebellion as anything else.

I wish there was a nobler way of saying that I simply didn't want to grieve anymore, but there isn't. I might have made a few half-hearted attempts to revive it - it was almost a security blanket by that time - but it was no longer reliable. It aroused no passion or emotion, just pretense. And living on false emotion is no way to live.

I wish I could share all this with my mother, but it wouldn't do any good. She married Stepdad too quickly and never properly mourned my father's death. Besides, adopting someone else's grieving process is like wearing someone else's used underwear. No good can come of it.

So as it turns out, I don't want to help her. At least not right now. I want her to suffer until she no longer wants to suffer anymore. It will only be then that I can help her. Until then, it's wasted effort.

I'm sorry if anyone's died of boredom by now. Sometimes I just need to organize some uninteresting thoughts.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Mind Clutter

I like Rod Stewart. No one understands this.


Emma: Press my tummy and I'll say something

Zelda: *Press*

Emma: Mama!

Zelda: *Press*

Emma: I Love You!

Zelda: *Press*

Emma: Chihuahua!


I had a dream that would translate into a pretty good story and I want to write it. But I don't know much about organized crime.


John Edwards sent me another email asking me to host a party where I can get my friends to talk about him. He says, "Next Wednesday, your living room can change America."

Let's see how many ways we can tell Mr. Edwards to pound sand. I'll start.

I would, but none of my friends like you.

What's wrong with your living room? Too big?

I'm sorry, Mr. Edwards, but I can't afford the carbon offsets...

Friday, June 15, 2007

Be Careful What You Wish

If you ask your husband for a DP, you are more likely to get a funny look than a Dr. Pepper.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

News Flash

Had an argument with Jethro last night. Actually it was more him yelling at me for awhile. There wasn't a whole lot I could argue.

I don't take criticism well. Ask anyone in my family - or anyone fool enough to disagree with me on a blog post. If you want to criticize me, you can kiss my juicy, pink ass first.

But every once in awhile, you just need to shut up and listen to what someone is telling you about yourself. I did last night.

It wasn't anything I didn't already know, but it revealed just how badly I was failing at quite a few different things.

I suppose I could sit around and dwell on it for awhile, but that would kind of negate the purpose of sitting there and taking it last night. So without further introspection, I shall commence with the getting of my ass in gear.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Don't Drop The Soap, Girls

I got sucked into TCMs gay-a-thon last night. I watched three women-in-prison movies in a row. I guess if you're looking for gay imagery, that's where to find it. I didn't realize it was the gay-a-thon until after I laughed my ass off watching Ladies They Talk About with Barbara Stanwyck. She had gone to prison for armed robbery and one of the other girls was showing her around. While they were in the restroom, they notice a manly looking woman smoking a cigar. Lillian Roth, the experienced inmate, quips direly, "Watch out for her - she likes to wrestle." In another scene, the Lesbian is working out and her fluffy little girlfriend is lying on the bed admiring her muscles.

It's so cool to see stuff like that in old movies. I realize that homosexuals have it much easier now, but there is something sexy about keeping it subtle.

The second movie was Caged with Eleanor Parker as a young, nearly innocent girl who was sent to prison for helping her husband rob a convenience store. Agnes Moorehead plays a pragmatic, yet sympathetic prison warden, and Hope Emerson plays the brutal, sadistic prison matron from whence all other Gigantic Lesbian Prison Matrons sprung. I didn't see any outright homosexuality - even Hope Emerson claimed to have a man on the outside (a fact with which she taunted the inmates). But the implications were all there.

The third was So Young, So Bad. It's a sexy little movie about a girls' reform school. Rita Moreno blew me away. She was practically a baby in the film, but she was incredible. Hers was the stand out preformance for me along with the Lesbian girls, Jackie and Jane played by Anne Jackson and Enid Pulver. Anne Francis was good too as a seductive, blonde bad girl. She must have driven men crazy way back when.

So now after having stayed up all night looking for gay bits in movies and allowing Jethro to service me afterwards, I'm tired. But it was fun.

Friday, June 08, 2007

Garbage Day

Zelda: Girls, would you pick up all the papers you've written on and throw them away? Tomorrow is Garbage Day.

Emma (scurrying excitedly to comply): How do we celebrate Garbage Day?

Zelda (laughing): Well, we pick up all the trash and we throw it out.

Emma: Then do we get cake?

Zelda: Sure, why not.

Gwennie (lolling indolently on the ground amidst all manner of clutter): Mooo-ooom, there's no such thing as Garbage Day. You're just saying that so we'll clean up.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Useless Human Prop

This is NOT safe for work, but it is hilarious. That seemed very passive aggressive. Maybe if they paid him more, his aim would be better.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

I read the most marvelous blog essay the other day. It's long, but it is fascinating and I could not recommend it more highly. Should anyone care to discuss it, I am always up for a conversation....


I've been out of pocket for a bit. It seems that Events are unfolding, and I may have some good news to blog about in the near future. I don't feel like tipping our hand just yet, though.


My youngest sister who is 12 comes to me for advice about boys. She is tall, blond, and beautiful, and she always has several who really like her and are constantly vying for her attention. It's all I can do to pay attention to her actual dilemmas and not wander off into marvelling at the fact that she is only 12 and has had more boyfriends than I did my whole life. Sometimes I think it might be easier to be homely and weird so that when a gentleman comes to call, you can take your time making sure he's a good one. I'm so lucky. Homely, weird and a great rack. God let me have something.