February 2011
"Are you seriously drinking a beer because you had...
“Yes.”
Passive Agression, it is what’s for Family Dinner.
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5 Hours 59 minutes
Until registration opens for the 2011 Chicago Marathon.
January 2011
Chicago is expecting 18” of snow over the next 72 hours. Of course this necessitates developing a cute pet name for the blizzard; we’ve settled on “Wednesday.”
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anaplastic (or large cell) medullablastoma
That is what Jake has. It seems like too many syllables for someone who is only six to have wrong in his brain.
When his Mom sent the update today, she said that they had moved to the rehab center in the suburbs, where Jake will have radiation and chemotherapy courses. Radiation first.
He still isn’t talking, he said one thing two weeks ago, and nothing since until this morning. He...
Honey.....Is our Bedroom Color welcoming to...
Cary had a question about paint, and she wants a color that is welcoming to boners. Is our bedroom welcoming to your boners?”
Sunday at our house.
monkeyfrog:
I hope you all are reading these replies.
I want it to feel warm and happy and welcoming to boners.
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Christa needs to put her address in my ask place so I can send her mail that is not a medical bill.
Maybe this political flyer for 49th ward Alderman. I don’t even live in that ward, but the family on the front looks nice….Or a hand written letter.
Whichever!
Art Show
Every year there was an Art Show of area high school art at the local community college. The Art Teacher got to choose the art that would be submitted by our school to the show.
Every year I worked exceptionally hard on my work so that I would have a chance of being selected.
Every year, the teacher chose someone else, someone easy.
This teacher is the same who took me out of class one day...
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I am tired of feeling like whatever I do, I will never be enough. No matter what I achieve, what I am able to save, what I build, who I build, what I innovate, that I will always be nothing. I will always be beneath contempt.
I am tired of feeling like who I am at my core is worthless.
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Challenging Physics
I was a Freshman in High School and completely in love with Doug Deur (Hi Doug! Hi! If you google yourself and this post comes up, you know, Hi! This is my secret blog. Don’t tell Ken.)
I walked down the main hallway coming back from a class towards the cafetorium, avoiding rain buckets and weaving in and out of students. I walked this way because of Doug Deur, who was a Junior, wore crew...
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What does it say about me?
That I never actually broke up with my High School Boyfriend, I just stopped accepting his calls and quit hanging out with him. And he quit hanging out with me, which I really didn’t notice (although our Sophmore Year we were inseperable) and then one day in the hall outside Honors History, Michelle Pengra came up to me to tell me that she had seen him at the Village Theater making out with...
After he lunged
There was a big garbage can between us full of broken glass that kept him from reaching me. That and Jim held him back.
I stood there staring at him. I would not break the gaze. Jim pushed him into the front and out to our loading dock. I did not break his gaze until he was out of sight.
He was not fired.
He was not reprimanded.
He had zero consequences.
The only thing that changed...
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Evetts
The day Evetts decided to hit me, I was cutting glass in the back of the frame shop on the third floor of the art supply store in Berkley.
It was the culmination of two years of bullying. I started working there two days a week in Grad school, and Evetts spent most of that time trying to cut me down, scoring me like I scored a piece of glass, then applying pressure until it snaps along the...
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I salted the earth where the building once stood.
40 years into it’s history as a “temporary” structure, my High School leaked so much that in the middle of gym class, we had to dodge buckets collecting rain water while pretending to play volleyball. This was a daily occurance, as the location of the school was Northwestern Oregon state - aka - a rain forest.
It was the very definition of shithole.
I hated the linoleum, and...
I hated high school so much
That I eradicated all memory and evidence of it’s existence.
The AP is “My net Diary Pro” which has a cool barcode scanner.
It is helping me to understand a single serving of Tositos is not equal to my Body Weight, which somehow seems wrong.
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5’10 in stilettos.
5’7 in Running shoes.
5’5 in bare feet.
My favorite part of Portlandia is the Mind-fi and Tumblr references.
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For my 2,000th post - a link to where you can get... →
If I have this right, Sarah commissioned Jason to design the shirt to help raise money for her Avon Breast Cancer Walk, which she does every single year, which is 39 miles - which is MORE than a marathon, but she gets two days - they are consecutive days.
This shirt is better than any race shirt or cool t-shirt with the blues brothers on it because a friend used his talent to help another...
My boobies are taking up your entire dash
sorry about that.
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“It’s not that cold.”
– Six, she is a native Midwesterner. Also, it is 9 degrees. 9 degrees is apparently “not that cold.”
2:00 PM is neither morning or evening
So I ran. 3 easy miles watching E! in 29:00.
It is 9F.
I really need to run outside. I need it.
9 more degrees and I can.
The forecast for tomorrow: Windchill of -25F
That is not too cold to run outside, is it? I mean the high is going to be 6 degrees.
(-32C windchill and -15C for anyone outside the US.)
I knocked, they weren't home so I ran.
I wanted to be able to speak to them first, but they haven’t been home. Or they were pretending not to be home.
I’d like to be a good neighbor, and work out something that works for both of us, but not signing your name and not being home makes that hard to do.
Oh well.
20 minutes of hills.
Tomorrow it is 0, and so I am gonna on demand a movie and do a long run on the treadmill...
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Julie taught me that lesson. Thank you, Julie, your being a frank badass about your cancer has helped me a tremendous amount this past week to not be a douchy asshat to my friend and to keep my fucking “It will get better” bullshit to myself and to just listen and to try hard to hear what her needs are, rather than come in and ask her to accept my help based on what I need.
I am not...
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Helpful/helpless
What is helpful? What does it mean to lend a hand? What does it me to be of service?
People step forward for a myriad of reasons to serve, wanting to help, mostly because we often feel helpless. We are helpless. We are not surgeons or doctors, we are unable to cut away the offending tumor or eradicate the pain. It feels excruciating to be helpless in this way.
I want to help.
I want to do...