CasaChristy

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Thursday, October 24, 2002

 
Happy Relationship Moment #10. Where: Mugsy McGuire's, Carbondale, IL (and if you would be there with me, I could you the exact stool I was sitting on). When: Circa September 1991. Who: Stephen. What I was wearing: an oversized white scooped neck T-shirt and flowered cotton/spandex pants from Express.

I bought my first pack of condoms that day, because after 3 weeks of spending nearly every night together, I decided that it was time Stephen and I had sex. I didn't really buy them because I was too chicken, but I did go with my former roommate while she bought them for me. I had also decided to ask if it was time we stopped seeing other people (neither of us were, but that's how I approached it), but I wasn't sure if I should do that before or after we did it. The implications being: if I asked before, he might be inclined to say yes in order to jump my bones, but if I waited until after, it might imply that I had used sex as a weapon. So, earlier in the night we both indicated that we had something we wanted to say to the other and after a "you go first, no you go first" volley, he said, "I love you." I freaked and ran to the bathroom. When I got back he said, "It really is a good thing." And then he asked what it was that I wanted to say. I just laughed. Then we went home and had sex. It wasn't very good the first time, but we got better.
Christy 11:13 PM

 
I changed the name of Julian's band in Quantum Theory Alternative Life #2 just to make it funnier. And it's copyrighted on behalf of my friend Jay, who thought it would be a good name for a band, even though I came up with the term.
Christy 10:59 PM

 
Whew. Completed my bi-weekly history paper. Which means I can work out this afternoon. I lost two pounds recently and I did it with fairly minimal effort, but more effort than I normally put out. Which means that if I bump up the effort, I will probably be able to wear a bikini next summer.
Christy 9:26 PM

 
So far, not a great morning. I have this thing about ice. I love iced beverages, the more ice the better, but I'm particular about the ice itself. I've talked about this before, so I won't get into it, but this morning, my favorite ice dispenser was jammed. Of the 6 ice machines in the cafeteria, this one has the best ice--the irregular, chunked ice. So, I had to use thee half-cylinder ice. I hate that.

I get back from my tea-trip and my boss wants to know if I can be at a 3 pm meeting tomorrow--tomorrow-the-day-I-was-going-to-leave-early. "Of course I can." It's actually kind of a big-deal meeting and it's kind of a privilege to be involved in this particular protocol. I don't know if I'm going to make it to Don's Halloween Party at his haunted mansion. I'm running out of time to get my costume together and make pasta salad, plus, the Pissed-off Bastard and I haven't seen each other awake since Monday and I have class tonight, so I might suggest that he take me to dinner somewhere. Somewhere with cloth napkins, that is. It's funny how much I wind up missing him when I don't see him. It's also a strange concept to miss someone that you sleep next to every night. It's also amazing how less often we fight when we don't see each other...

I bought fig newtons, too. Because the lunch offerings suck, though I might go to Children's Hosp. and get cheese fries. Not exactly the best food to eat when you're trying to scratch the pounds, but I hear they are good. Frankly, anything that includes potatoes and cheese is a winner in MY book.

I read on BlueChemical today: I felt the need to have a stchick when I was a kid (talk in only song titles or something) just like the wacky kid always did in books I would read. I think, that even though I'm an adult, I'm going to affect my own schtick. I like the talking in song titles idea, but I might make it just lyrics instead. Or maybe, I'll go a whole day without saying anything that isn't a cliche.
Christy 6:14 PM

Wednesday, October 23, 2002

 
Wow, the contributor that this guy is talking about is me. It's weird to find yourself on stranger's websites...
Christy 11:47 PM

 
God, I am dying. I have to go to the bathroom so damn bad; I can't WAIT to go home. It's days like this I wish I were a guy--they never have any compunction (is that a word) about using public facilities for any reason whatsoever. It's been like this ever since I got to work--couldn't have been like this this morning while I was at home--nooooooooooooo.
Christy 11:23 PM

 
Quantum Theory Alternate Life #2

I picked Pantomime Dad over Pumpkin Boy. We go to England together and then, with the money I got from doing a side recruiting job for PD's company, I spend 10 days in Ireland. We fall madly in love in London and my absence during my Ireland tour makes our hearts grow fonder. In May, he finally talks me into going off Depo Provera and having a baby. Against my better judgement, I agree. Since my landlord has already indicated that he's not going to renew my lease and would be willing to let me out of my lease early, PD talks me into moving back to WestCo. He hates my neighborhood and doesn't want his child raised in the city. After many, many arguments regarding my books and space and etc. he helps me find a nice little townhouse in the Creve Coeur area big enough for all of my stuff and a baby. He helps with the rent. I continue to recruit until I'm ready to go on Maternity leave and then my boss suggests that I not come back after the baby is born. This is all fine with PD as he wants me to help him with some human resources software that he's developing. I work part time for PD and when my lease is up on the townhouse, we get married and I move into his house with the baby and spend long summer days by the pool reading my books. Occasionally I cook, but we have "a person" since his mom died in April. I'm not necessarily wild in love anymore and wonder if I ever really loved him, but we get along fine and my new lifestyle fits me well. I even have time write, though he thinks it's only a frivolous hobby.
Christy 10:45 PM

 
Happy Relationship Moment #9

Smart Brian and I were at our first Ellis Paul show. Neither of us had any idea who he was, what he sounded like, but being folk afficionados we went. It was our 2nd or 3rd date. Ellis (who's real name is Paul) sang "Did Galileo Pray"--years before it found a home on an album--and required the audience to sing the "Did Galileo Pray" section of the chorus. Smart Brian complied, though I'm not found of singing in public--or in unison. In any case, when I hear that song now, I ALWAYS think of Smart Brian and those couple of months in early fall in the middle of my tour of North Carolina when I wasn't so lonely.
Christy 10:26 PM

 
I need a happy relationship moment. Because I'm feeling a little funk-y this morning and because Pumpkinboy's comment on my triangle post made me cry. So, I will have a happy relationship moment about Pumpkinboy.

The two boyfriend thing had just begun and keeping up with the two of them had turned into a full-time job of its own and I took a couple of days off from my paying job. I had just met PB in person the week before and he was pretty crazy about me at first. We talked on the phone for hours one Thursday as I sat in my window seat. It was Feb. 8 and it was very warm outside. I was restless. And after we hung up, I already missed him. He got out of his previous engagement, either early or altogether and drove to Soulard. We took a walk. He put his arm around my shoulder. It was a very nice night. But, god, he used to call me late at night and keep me talking until dawn. It was crazy, but it was fun. That was Pumpkinboy's best thing--he was fun.
Christy 6:01 PM

 
The Ellis Paul show was excellent. In terms of where this show ranked among the many other times I've seen him play, it wasn't the best show ever, but still excellent. I think, part of the reason that it was excellent is that he played a Tuesday show as if it were a Tuesday. The last time I saw him in St. Louis, he played for 4 hours or something, but it was a Friday or Saturday. I thought that was very considerate of him to play a shorter show on a school night. Also, it was excellent because my dad was there for the first time. And, for most of the first set and then some of the second set, he got off the stage and did an "unplugged" performance from the extra chair at my table. He played a lot of new music and he didn't ask for requests (probably because the show was so short). I would have liked to hear "Angel in Manhattan" or "Say Something" or "Translucent Soul" but as I have all of his stuff and have heard him do it all before, it was all right. While he did do Woody Guthrie's "Hard Travelin'" he did not do any Dylan covers, to the mild disappointment of my two tablemates. And, he did a hauntingly, folky version of "Let it Be."

I stopped by the Meow for awhile before going to Off Broadway. Fred walked me to my car when I left.

Speaking of Jesus (oh, wait, we weren't). This story hit the papers and National Geographic this week... My only issue is that anything that indicates that James is both the brother of Jesus and the son of Joseph is erroneous because there's no way that a son of Joseph could be the brother of Jesus since Joseph wasn't the father of Jesus. Or is it only me who remembers that Christ was conceived by the Holy Spirit? Granted, he could be the son of Mary and still be the brother of Jesus, but that's not what the box says. Biggest find since the Dead Sea Scrolls, my ass--more like the Cardiff Giant, I'd say.
Christy 5:50 PM

Tuesday, October 22, 2002

 
My tea is gone. I finished it about 2 o'clock. This is more reason than ever to leave at 4 pm and work out. My week is so damn busy that the only way I'll make it to Don's Haunted Mansion on Friday is to take Friday off--at least a half day. Tonight I have my excercise/nutrition class and father/daughter bonding at the Ellis Paul show. Tomorrow, I'm meeting my best friend from high school, Jay, who, despite the fact we live 5 miles from each other and despite the fact that he's often in my neighborhood, I haven't seen in 5 years. Jay is half of the "Gay Correspondants" on the Dave Glover Show on 97.1 Thursday, I have class (but, don't worry, I'll be over that by Friday). PLUS, I have to work out at least two more times after today. I don't like being this busy.
Christy 11:50 PM

 
Oh, and I now have tea. And I am happy. However, I was so damn thirsty by the time I got it, I drank most of it pretty fast, not giving the ice time to melt and therefore not giving me a full 32 ounces of icy-tea goodness.
Christy 8:25 PM

 
In response to the decision that websites are virtual space and not physical space and are therefore not covered by the American's with Disabilities act, the Ratbastard wrote: "Making the web accessible to the blind is like making braille accessible to people without fingers."

I am rolling on the floor, laughing my ass off.

Christy 8:23 PM

 
I thought I'd fixed the garbage disposal last weekend, but it turns out I didn't fix it enough. Now, it is fixed enough. My favorite part of fixing things is the amazed look on the Pissed-off Bastard's face.
"How did you do that?" he asked me last night.
"I allen-wrenched it."

He asked me the other day if I had any pliers. I couldn't find any. This makes me happy, because it gives me a reason to go to the hardware store. I love the hardware store. I love knowing what size phillips-head screwdriver I need. I love knowing what a phillips-head looks like. I love knowing the reason why you should always use the right-sized phillips head screwdriver. But, I already have many phillips-head screw drivers so I'm going to have to be happy buying pliers.

Oh, and please be sure to check out BanScrewdrivers.com site. Um, yeah. To quote my office mate: "Someday has too much time on their hands."
Christy 8:19 PM

 
This post contains foul language

Now I am fucked. I was in such a lather about triangles and then about printers and non-working print-servers in buildings I can't even find that I never made it to the cafeteria to get iced tea. And now, it's closed for an hour. And now there is nothing more than I want than iced tea--a big 32 ouncer with lotsa ice.

An hour I have to wait for iced tea. An hour.
Christy 5:58 PM

 
I've been thinking about a number of things lately.

I'm not a one-man woman. My life is full of bizarre love triangles. Some of my triangles have had triangles. I function much better in a triangle situation. I think it's because I want too much from a single person and I find it easier to have my cake and eat it too if I'm in a triangle. Two is plenty and even then I prefer them one at a time.

Looking back through all my relationships for "Happy Relationship Moments" I have noticed again the triangle theme. My most successful was Mercer and Dan the Pervert. Mercer had a girlfriend and while we were able to work around that as long as I was in North Carolina, once I moved back it was very difficult for us to deal with what was going on. And then came Dan and everything balanced out. And, for the most part, I only needed Dan in the context of Mercer. Once Mercer was out of the picture, and we were no longer a triangle, Dan and I faltered.

Later, I had the two boyfriends, Pantomime Dad and Pumpkinboy. That worked out pretty well, too, until Pantomime Dad pressured me to stop seeing other people (aka Pumpkinboy). I wasn't ready to do that so Pantomime Dad left the scene. Then Pumpkinboy and I faltered. Mostly because it was too much pressure on him I think, to be the only banana in my banana orchestra. I became, how did he put it? "Clingy and jealous." I think that is a bit of an exaggeration. He would often leave me alone in groups of strangers while he flirted with every other girl in the room. Wait. Scratch that. While he flirted with every girl in the room under the age of 21. Yeah, it pissed me off. There's an element of humiliation in that.

My strangest triangle was probably Stephen and Joe. But that was strictly sex. And it really didn't exist to balance anything--at least not from my perspective. I can't speak for Joe or Stephen and I suspect that each of them had an underlying motive. For Joe it was me and for Stephen it was Joe, but I can't actually prove this.

For the last year and a half, I think I've been yearning for a third party. The POB just can't be everything I want. However, it's hard to convince someone to be the small arm of your triangle when the other arm is a big, giant guy with a misconceived reputation for mean. Also, triangles are easier if everyone involved are at least peripherally aware of the situation. No way am I going to convince the POB that this is the way to go. I think I've tried, even.

Nevertheless, I've been marginally allowing myself to be wooed--that is, I've offered little or no resistance to the pursuit. But, I'm not sure what the sincerity level of this person is--about 9 months ago he said to me, "You know what the difference between you and me is? You're scared and I'm not." I corrected him: I'm scared when I'm drunk, he's scared when he's sober. As I've been fond of saying the last few months--it would be like going from the fire into the frying pan: the surface is level and easier to stand on, but it's still just as hot. He's getting divorced; he knows the POB. And, in reality, it wouldn't necessarily be a trade-up.

I think it's possible that someone saw me kiss him outside the Meow on Saturday. Well, I'm fairly certain this guy saw but I don't know if he'd tell the POB--or tell someone who would tell the POB. Mostly, I'm not sure that he remembers that I'm the girlfriend of the POB. Additionally, I don't know if he knows we're still together. And furthermore, I'm not sure he'd have the balls to tell the POB as he is in that misinformed population of people who think the POB is an ass-kicker.

However, yesterday, I got to the neighborhood before the boyfriend and I went to the Meow to read the paper. A half-hour later, POB called and wanted to have a drink with me--did I mind if he stopped or did I just want him to go home? "You aren't busy?" he asked me. He NEVER wants to have a drink with me--this was extremely odd behavior. I determined he didn't have any money, but he left before I did AND he paid the tab, so that wasn't it.

The next time he drinks vodka, I'm sure I'll find out.

And, no, I don't consider myself infidelous...
Christy 5:33 PM

Monday, October 21, 2002

 
So, I have FREE passes to the Ellis Paul show on Tuesday. For which I'm very excited. Likely, I could have gotten on the guest list since I'm still officially part of his "Fan Out" which turned out to be more of a fan club than what I thought it would be initially. I'm a fan, but I'm not the fan club type. Those people loose their objectivity for sure. Anyway, I'm on the notification list for Off Broadway. And Joe offered free passes to an upcoming show for the first 3 people to respond. I was one of them. But, you have to request the show because they only offer so many free passes, etc. etc. but I got them for Ellis, whom I was planning to see anyhow. Only now I don't have to pay. So, I guess I can add that to my non-currency money to bring the total to $154.xx.
Christy 11:42 PM

 
I don't know how much money I have in the bank. It could be very little or it could be a lot. However, this is how much non-currency money I have: $50 Visa Gift Card. $5 lottery ticket. $20 (I think) Borders Gift Certificate. $5.35 merchandise credit from Bath and Body Works. $1.xx remaining on a B&N gift certificate. $20 Vintage Vinyl gift certificate. Another $20 Vintage Vinyl gift certificate. And $14.35 in WorldWinner Games winnings (Although it's really only $9.35 since I staked the first 5).

That's a total of $130.xx in unused money. That's a lot. Some of these gift certificates are almost a year old. I hate to use gift certificates. I'm not sure why. I waited until after Art died to use the $75 Victoria Secret GC he'd given me the Christmas before. I cried at the register; I'm sure the VS babe thought I was nuts.
Christy 11:17 PM

 
Happy Relationship Moment #7 The Alternate

The week I moved from St. Louis to North Carolina, Mercer and I were on our first of many lunch dates. He took me to Dierdorf and Hart's and as we finished lunch he said, "I know you are going to be busy this week with your move, but I want to spend as much time with you as you can spare."


Christy 11:07 PM

 
Okay, I just posted Happy Relationship Memory #7 and the Happy Relationship Memory #7 the Buzzkill and all of a sudden, my post started being eaten. Seriously, I watched the whole thing delete from the end to the beginning. Like a snake. Like a Blog Snake. Like one of those evil Blog Snakes that you are warned to avoid when playing Blogger.

Come on, Ben, now's the time to say it again. I gave you an opening even.
Christy 11:03 PM

 
Happy Relationship Memory #6

I was 18 and a freshman in college; I was also severely homesick. I don't remember how I met Julian, but not long after we met, I came back from a weekend at home (my 4th in a row) to find out that the guy I thought I was seeing was now seeing the girl across the hall. I decided that I wanted to transfer to Edwardsville and live at home. The next morning, I found a note under my door that said something like, "Christy, please don't transfer. I'm here for you if you need me. Jules." It would be another 2 months before we were officially a couple, though.

I really fucked up the business with Julian. When we broke up, it was one of those significant moments where the outcome of one's life immediately and irrevocably changes.

Quantum Theory Alternative Life #1:
Somewhere, according to quantum theory, Julian and I are happily married, living in Colorado, with 2 lovely children who have bowlegs and chin-butt dimples and who ski almost as well as their daddy. Mommy won't ski, but will read and write and drink the occasional toddy in the lodge.--nope, strike that. Julian and I are happily married with 2 lovely children who have bowlegs and chin-butt dimples and who ski almost as well as their daddy and living in Genève, Suisse, where Mommy has a job with the United Nations. Mommy doesn't ski, but saves the Palestinians from the Israelis and the Irish from the English and will probably win a Nobel Peace Prize. Julian was the lead singer of "The Liquor Store Widows" who took the world by storm back in '90. "The Liquor Store Widows" were highly influenced by Yes, Journey and post-Peter Gabrial Genesis. He made tons of money, stayed off drugs and groupies, invested well, and then retired. Julian is a professor of music and physics at L'Université de Genève.
Christy 8:22 PM

Friday, October 18, 2002

 
Happy Relationship Memory #5

In 1992 I worked at the Mississippi Flyway in Carbondale and often worked a split shift (Lunch and Dinner til 10 or so). Stephen worked evenings (until 2) wherever he happened to be working at the time. Often, he'd meet me after my lunch shift and we'd hang out in Turley park. I was very skinny then and wore a lot of mini skirts (only the skinny thing has changed). One afternoon, at the park, on a picnic table bench we were making out. And then we were screwing. In public. Within yards of small children and their mommies. But we were very discreet and it was probably not apparent what we were doing. At least, no one ran off screaming.

That's my last happy memory for the day. This has been nice and refreshing and I may pick it back up again on Monday. Do you have happy relationship memories to share? Ko has the Funniest Relationship Memories going on over at his site--they are indeed funny. Mae should start a Kinkiest Relationship Memory thread on her site. But, I'm going to stick with happy for now.

Maybe next week I'll talk about Fred.
Christy 10:28 PM

 
Happy Relationship Memory #4

Not long after Stephen and I were together, we drove with Chris (see below) and Spike from Carbondale to the VP Fair (which was held over Labor Day weekend that year due to repairs at the Arch earlier in the summer). The relationship was still very new (I didn't yet know he was married and etc.) We split from Chris and Spike and went to the beer garden at Sundecker's and I remember feeling happier than I'd ever felt standing there with him, looking across the Mississippi to Illinois. No particular reason.
Christy 10:10 PM

 
Happy Relationship Memory #3

When I would go up to Chicago to see Dan the Fork Dork we would spend the entire day in bed, listening to old music, quizzing each other, drinking Absolut Citron and Diet Coke, having sex, ordering in lunch. We felt no pressure to do anything else. Or be anywhere else.
Christy 10:06 PM

 
I'm behind several hours on my Happy Relationship Memories.

Happy Relationship Memory #2

When the Pissed-off Bastard and I first started dating, I had a post-wedding party to attend. He was supposed to go with me but at the last minute couldn't. I drove out to St. Peters, stayed for about an hour and drove back to the liquor store. He was very happy to see me, told me I smelled good, was afraid I'd be gone all night. Later, a bunch of us were sitting outside and it was chilly and he gave me his favorite sweatshirt. There's nothing better than the feeling of wearing the first piece of his clothing in a relationship (does that make sense?)



Christy 10:04 PM

 
Happy Relationship Memory #1

I heard "The Dance" on the radio yesterday. During my senior year in college, Chris and I, in the evenings would play cards or Trivial Pursuit sitting cross legged on his water bed, listening to country music and drinking Boone's Farm wine. I was very content to do this and Boone's Farm always made me feel warm and fuzzy. The first time we said, "I love you" we were on my living room floor, playing Trivial Pursuit and drinking Boone's Farm. But "The Dance" always reminds me of those cold nights in Chris' house on his waterbed.
Christy 5:59 PM

 
Normally, I would not blog about such things, but I think I'm getting my period. This is only noteworthy because I have not had a period since Febrary 2001 and it was a fleeting one at that. Since Jan. 2000 I have had only 5 periods, not counting this one. The reason I'm having one now (I think) is that I haven't had a Depo Provera shot since last December. I'm so used to not having them that I can't decide if having one feels novel or alien.

Anyway, it is making me a little grumpy and I've felt grumpier than usual lately and last night I decided that in lieu of my very screwed up relationship, I'm going to have one happy relationship memory an hour today. Not necessarily about my current relationship, though one of those might sneak itself in there. These will not be in any kind of chronological order.
Christy 5:56 PM

Thursday, October 17, 2002

 
Okay, it's Wednesday. I usually go out for a couple of drinks on Wednesdays. But, I need to work out 3 times this week. I can't do it tomorrow; I'm unlikely to do it on Friday. And I've only worked out once this week so far. I'm sitting here trying to decide. What the fuck. Let's roll.
Christy 12:43 AM

 
I have a unusual fear of html tags. Even the simple ones. Especially the simple ones. Like, if I hit the italic font icon to italicize a block of text in Blogger and both the opening and ending tag wind up sitting on the end. I will delete both tags and start over or will attempt to cut and paste the opening tag, rather than just typing it in.
Christy 12:28 AM

 
I am on the phone with my father and he has just said, "I've been listening to the Grateful Dead."

"Really??" I mean, my dad has very eclectic taste and I know he owns some Grisman/Garcia stuff but that's bluegrass, but the Dead's the Dead, you know?

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, it's just--"

"--This is the kind of music that's right up my alley. It's....it's...it's...they are to rock music what the New Grass Revival was to Bluegrass. No holds barred. They're really just a country rock band. In fact..." He then proceded to dissertate on this topic more fully, ending with "The New Riders of the Purple Sage. You know them?"

"I've heard of them. Wasn't someone in that band?"

"Christy, a lot of people were in the band. That's why it was a band." This delivered with great deliberateness. I knew I got my sarcasm from someplace.

"I mean, someone who's known for something else."

"Well, see, Jerry Garcia wanted to be able to play the steel guitar and ya-da ya-da..."

"So, Jerry Garcia."

"Well, yeah, but I thought you knew that."

"Mmm...are you going to Ellis Paul next Tuesday or not?"

This conversation was prefaced by a conversation that began, "Did you see The Sopranos last night" and ended with "Dean Martin and Ricky Nelson singing Rio Bravo." I didn't see The Sopranos nor have I seen the movie "Rio Bravo" but I now know there's a connection.


Christy 12:22 AM

Wednesday, October 16, 2002

 
Found in a newsgroup email: Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.
Christy 11:43 PM

 
I opened up Blogger and "edit your blog" and I realize that I have nothing to say. I had all kinds of things to say this morning. On the way to work. On the shuttle. In the cafeteria. During a lecture on "Hereditary Endometrial Cancer" Identifying Patients at Risk & New Advances, all of which, except for the words in the title of the lecture, went right over my head, without passing go and without collecting 200 dollars. On my way through the link, because they've blocked off my outside shortcut. While reading other blogs. While posting other comments to other blogs (I found Adam Curry's and he mentioned fellow STLBlogger Burningbird. Which sort of makes me, by virtue of our tenuous STLBloggers connection, separated from Adam Curry by only 2 degrees. Which is far closer than I ever thought I'd be to Adam Curry. Or wanted to for that matter).

So, while I had plenty to say then, I don't remember any of it now.
Christy 11:03 PM

Tuesday, October 15, 2002

 
A couple of weeks ago, something happened to the garbage disposal. There's been a clinking noise during the post-grind phase for awhile and then one night it stopped grinding altogether and then the motor stopped. Some aural research later, I discovered that the motor didn't break, it just needed to be reset. So, I reset it. But it still wouldn't grind.

"You need an allen wrench," Andy told me. It fits into a hole in the bottom and you turn it to unblock whatever's in there.

Later, Little Jeff said, "No, you aren't taking anything off, you just need to turn the blades to unlodge whatever is stuck. Turn it counter clockwise, because the blades turn the other way. You might have to turn it one way and then the other to loosen whatever's there."

Home depot: "I don't know what size allen wrench you need, ma'am, you need to check your disposal."

So, on Sunday, the Pissed-off Bastard has just done some dishes and I notice some excess water beneath the sink. At first I think it's a leak, but he suggested it was just water he'd splashed. Later, doing other dishes, he noticed that it seemed to be leaking near the dishwasher. I opened it and stagnant water was pooled on the bottom. This has happened before, though I'm not sure how. So, I start the DW. It starts to back up into the sink. I turn it off. Concerned now that this problem is connected to the disposal problem I decide it's time to go back to Home Depot.

I feel up underneath, get a general sense of what size allen wrench I need (at least I know what an allen wrench IS) and then remember that I might actually HAVE a set of wrenches somewhere, that might include an allen wrench. I check. I do and I do. The first fitting I try is too small or too big or something, so I go to reach for another one and something under the sink twinkles at me. Lo! An allen wrench--or rather, an allen wrench TOOL. The one that obviously came with the disposal, just sitting there IN PLAIN VIEW this entire time.

And, so, I fit the allen wrench into the bolt and turn and the water subsides. I reset the disposal and once again it grinds.

"What did you do?" The POB asked.

"I fixed it," I said, and went upstairs to fold laundry.
Christy 5:49 PM

Monday, October 14, 2002

 
Very mixed weekend. Friday wasn't such a hot night for me and the POB...mostly because he started drinking vodka right after work and he's a bear on vodka--so while my night out was interesting, it didn't include him. After I left him, I went to the Meow and ran into Richard, this guy I don't know very well and hadn't seen since the last time it was cold out. We talked about infomercials, particularly Ron Popeil's, and at some point he said, "you know, there's two different versions of the rotisserie one."
"I know," I said, and then simultaneously we both said, "there's the one with his DAUGHTER" proving that we know WAY too much about infomercials.

On the other hand, I'm gonna get me some of that Orange Glo and that Ka-Boom that Billy Mays hawks.

Later, we went to the Venice Cafe. I'd never really been there before. Mostly because they charge a cover. However, it was AWESOME. There's mosaics EVERYWHERE and cool Tikki rooms and one of the best bathrooms EVER. And they have a diorama with naked Barbies and Friends sunning themselves on rocks by a babbling brook--WATCH OUT, Barbies, here comes a GIANT HULK HOGAN...some of them are pretty drunk judging from the numbers of beer cans, littering their perches.

Also, while I was there, I ran into Kevin, with whom I spend every Thanksgiving (his mom and my mom are best friends and we've known each other all my life--he's a little older). We've been doing the Thanksgiving thing nearly every year for 20 years. It's a big deal with lots of ritual. We chatted and made a pact that at least once a year, I'd come out to North County and at least once a year he'll come to the city, so that way we'll manage to see each other 3 times a year. I told him my cousin Andy was coming this year and we both grimaced, remembering the LAST Thanksgiving Andy came out. Anyway, I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving.

I went home around 2 and grabbed my pillows and slept on the futon. As usual, everything was fine by morning, though we did have a discussion and some resolution. I went out for a little while and we barbequed, as usual.

Sunday, he made chili. I sat outside, but it was too cold, so I went to the roof where it was sunnier. That wasn't working either, so I took a nap and then a bath.

And then I got some bad news.

Jay called to tell me that Quincy's younger brother, Kyle died on Thursday. It was self-inflicted, but I'm not sure if it was on purpose or not. Kyle and I were buddies for awhile the year that Quincy and I dated. I spent a lot of time with him that summer going record shopping and whatnot. I remember he was into old 60's rock before I was and he's the only person I know who had "Freedom Rock" both I and II. I haven't talked to him in years and the last time I saw him he wasn't particularly friendly, but I am feeling a bit of a loss today and I can't imagine the pain his parents are feeling--

I hope wherever you are, you are safe and happy, Kyle.

Christy 6:37 PM

Friday, October 11, 2002

 
My nephew is the single cutest baby in the entire world. I wish I could figure out how to post photos (because the technology is available, I just haven't figured it out). And he's a BIG baby--in the 96th percentile for height and weight and all that. Which means that he might grow up to be a big, tall man. And he's a good baby and a happy baby. I can't wait to see him at Thanksgiving.

I didn't go to class last night because the Protocol Review meeting lasted 2 1/2 hours. It was my week to hand in the bi-weekly one-pager. He takes off 10 points for every day it's late and if you don't arrange an absence with him 24 hours in advance it's unexcused.

Well, I'm sorry. Unfortunately my job is ruled by submission deadlines. Unfortunately my job is ruled by mandatory meetings at which my presence is imperative. Unfortunately I have control over neither of those things and certainly not 24 hours in advance. I can assure you that my life would be much less stressful if that were true. I am not an 18 year-old freshman who's JOB it is to go to college full time. I can understand the strict attendance model in more traditional circumstances, but at NIGHT SCHOOL where pretty much everyone is a working professional? It's ludicrous. So, I sent him my paper via email saying more or less just that--we'll see what he says.

I already know that my end-of-semester evaluation is going to be less-than-flattering. I don't mind his lectures so much, but I can't stand the little martinet attitude.

The Pissed-Off Bastard and I are supposed to do something tonight--I'm about to make my Friday afternoon phone call, let's see what happens......dialing...ringing...ringing A LOT

Him: _______ (the name of his company--he sounds like he's in a tin can. Could it be the Liquor Store maybe?)
Me: Hi sweetie
Him: Hey you
Me: What are you doing.
Him: (pause) Nothing...um, getting ready to head home. What are you doing.
Me: Sitting here. Working. (HA)
Him: What are you going to do.
Me: Go home.
Me: Are we going to do something tonight.
Him: I guess we can, if you want to.
Me: Okay.
Me: I was going to work out, but I have to go to the bathroom so damn bad, there's no way.
Him: (pauses) Um,okay.
Me: Okay.
Him: (distracted) Okay.
Me: Bye
Him: Bye.

Note: the lack of question marks are purposeful. We do not have conversations that utilize the question mark. These are the same questions we always ask and we always know the answer. We just say them in order to get to the end of the conversation. By the time I got to the end of that brilliant and verbatim transcription, it occurred to me that he was on the pot. Hehehehehe. He probably thinks I figured it out and that's why I mentioned my own biological urge.

On a different note: I picked up the phone today at work and said, "This is Christy." Without any other preamble, my boss said, "I was just telling Dr. M______ and Chuck that I don't know what I'd do without you. That if you left I'd probably quit."

Yesterday, I didn't get to the office until 2 pm. She didn't notice.
Christy 11:54 PM

Thursday, October 10, 2002

 
Oops, did I say "go to Key West with Fred?" Uh, that was, uh, just a, uh, joke. Yeah, a joke.
Christy 1:08 AM

 
Okay, so this Karyn person did it, why can't I? As usual, I'm late to the party, but some chick in New York has a website on which she ACTUALLY panhandles in order to pay off her credit card debt. Like that kid some years back who put out ads asking for pennies so that he could afford tuition.

I would be so embarrassed, but you know, it's not really a bad idea...I mean, no one's making these people send her a buck or two...I didn't. But, the chick has gotten over $12,000 plus other goodies from perfect strangers.

Ooh, someone talk me out of it. Because I really want to go to Key West with Fred in August and I, too, have loads of credit card debt that I can't pay off...
Christy 1:07 AM

Wednesday, October 09, 2002

 
Oh, and it wasn't the POB that was banned from Molly's--just some guy I had been sitting next to (but not WITH) on Monday night.
Christy 11:08 PM

 
I think if someone told me that I could have some other job but it would pay exactly what I make right now, even if the job I chose didn't normally pay that much, I think I would be the person who drives the lunch truck.

We used to have a lunch truck at the dorms when I was in college, only it came around at supper, not lunch, and stayed until 2 in the morning. The official name of the business, according to the sign on the truck, was "Mr. Sandwich" but it was normally referred to as "Mr. Munchie" or "Munchman" or just "Munch." They had Coke in 16 oz. refundable glass bottles. Many a freshman returned back to his 16th floor dorm only to discover the bottle required an opener.

Everyone is always happy to see the lunch truck. No one ever, ever, ever says, "Oh, fuck me, it's the damn lunch truck again. Why the fuck is the lunch truck always coming around at lunch time? Fer chrissake."

On another note

I just finished Helen Fielding's "Cause Celebre" this week. Fielding is well-known for writing "Bridget Jones' Diary" which is really insipid by comparison. Or, rather, Bridget is really insipid in comparison to Rosie, the heroine (for real) of "Cause Celebre". This is a far better book than BJD could ever hope to be. It's her first novel, actually, and I think it was recently re-published since the BJD phenomenon.
Christy 9:31 PM

 
I found this link on Joe's site...

casachristy
casachristy is a bedside table that
hovers three feet from the ground,
freezes anything it touches and
jumps like a frog.

Christy 9:21 PM

 
For all you people who keep stopping here because you googled for "Ani+Moller+Ben+Brown+Divorce" Ani has posted to her website, explaining all and asking for a little help. It would so suck if you moved halfway around the world to get married and then it didn't work out and now you were all alone in a foreign country.
Christy 6:57 PM

 
I received the following email from an old friend of mine from California (wow, Studboy, it's been nearly 10 years since the night at the Airtel)

This is it. In its entirety, I might add.

I looked at your weblog... I don't understand your
lack of grief for the folks killed in 9/11? Oh
well, it's a free country.

See ya,
[Studboy]

I don't think he's very happy with me right now. It's hard to assume tone in a written dispatch, but considering that in my last email to him, I asked how HE was doing and this was the only response I received, I sense some displeasure. I'm not sure I understand why. To my knowledge he didn't lose anyone in the attacks. If he did, why then I would feel sorry for his loss, like I do when other people I know lose friends and family and pets.

I'm not cold-hearted or callous. I DO have feelings, despite what some people have told me and I DO NOT have ice water running through my veins like yet other people have said.

"Oh, well, it's a free-country." ???????? I guess it isn't. I guess that's my point. I feel as if I've been issued a federal (or at least a societal) mandate to grieve over deaths of strangers. I feel as if I've been mandated to grieve over an incident that affects my life only very peripherally. It's not that I don't care; it's that I'm trying to keep this in perspective. I know I use that word over and over and over, but that's because I feel that it is important.
.
Geez, I really thought we had moved on already. This is what I responded (I hope he doesn't mind that I shared)...but for the last time...

Studboy,

I don't feel any personal grief--I didn't know any of those people. I don't feel personal grief for people I don't know who die in car accidents or plane crashes or in tornados or in hurricanes or earthquakes either. I feel sympathy for their families and friends, but I can't GRIEVE for people I don't know.

If you had been killed (and thank heavens you weren't) I would have grieved for you. If you die before me, no matter how old we are, I will grieve. But I cannot grieve for people I never knew, or never knew existed. And, it's not likely, that any of those people, had they heard about my demise in a car accident, would have grieved for me.

Again, and I'm getting really good at saying it: this was NOT the worst thing to ever happen in America or to Americans. It is especially not the worst thing to ever happen in the world. I just wanted to keep it in perspective, that's all.

One of my other issues is the federal aid going to surviving families--aid that the survivors of the OKC bombing or the previous Trade Center Bombing or terrorist-suspected airplane bombings didn't get.

And finally, I can't spare the emotion to grieve for this particular set of victims. The United States, as a collective entity, brought this upon itself because of its foreign policy in the middle east. Mark my words, until that foreign policy changes and the US Gov't decides on a more laissez faire approach to the Mid East, IT WILL HAPPEN AGAIN. Even if we wipe out the Al Qaida, even if we wipe out Saddam Hussein, it will happen again.

And there's nothing anyone can say that will reassure me otherwise.




Christy 6:42 PM

Tuesday, October 08, 2002

 
Hot MFn DAMN!!!! Once you obtain a pin number, you CAN--that is, you CAN renew your library books over the internet. Which is a good thing since I have like10 of them due today.

Which leads me to something I've been thinking about since I finished "The Corrections" Jonathan Franzen has some major issues. Keep in mind that I read A LOT of books--mostly fiction and across most fictional genres...The end of that book was absolutely CRUEL--the way he portrayed that dying old man. When I read, or attempted to read "American Psycho" I didn't come away with the sense that Ellis had issues, nor do I generally think that about any author after reading his/her book (okay, sometimes I REALLY wonder what goes on in Stephen King's head, but his wife Tabitha writes such nice ordinary books--which are wonderful, by the way--I figure he just has a gifted imagination), but after reading "The Corrections" I really think that Franzen has some issues with his childhood and with St. Louis in general (the St. Jude in the book was only thinly disguised I think, to underscore Franzen's distain for St. Louis--he grew up in Webster). I didn't think I'd say this, but Oprah's probably lucky that he refused to be a guest.
Christy 8:26 PM

 
oooookayyyyyyyyy. The nutritionist wants me to eat 3 times a day. I'm not sure how to arrange this...if I eat breakfast, I'm not hungry for lunch. If I eat lunch I'm not hungry for supper. I forced myself to eat lunch today and it was decidedly unhealthy as if my stomach in cahoots with my taste buds decided that if we were going to force food into it, it had better taste DAMN good. I went to the cafeteria, nothing tasted good. My office mate and I walked by vend-a-heaven and lo! my taste buds stopped me and urged for a gas-station burrito. Although, technically, they would be vend-a-heaven burritos. I could only hope that the machine would be void of burritos. But now, there one sat in all it's textured veggie protein goodness. My stomach assented and now, despite my healthy Fat-Free and almost Fat-free yogurts this morning, I've now introduced 2 million fat calories into my system--and all because I'm supposed to eat thrice a day (I almost wrote thrice daily, but that seems sort of contradictory).

Speaking of yogurt. I had a hard time deciding between flavors. Eventually, I settled for the Fat-free Key Lime Pie and the Low-fat Strawberry and Banana. I ate the fat-free key lime pie first. Not bad. The lime gives it a little tangy kick that put me in mind of warm summer days and refreshing alcoholic beverages. However, the strawberry and banana won HANDS-down in terms of intensity and fullness of flavor, underscoring that it's the fat that tastes good. I realize that this test wasn't exactly empiracal since I didn't really compare the same things, but frankly, in my mouth, yogurt, regardless of it's fruit, tastes pretty much the same to me. Next time, I will take this pilot data and use it for a more thorough trial.

Speaking of fat and calories and bad things in foods and beverages...this weekend, I tried the new Michelob Ultra--which is Mich Light with fewer carbs. A Bud Light has 6.6 grams of carbohydrates per 12 oz., Mich Ultra only 2.6. It tastes okay, but after you have several it no longer matters, which is the point. If you're only going to have 1 or 2 beers, I wouldn't suggest it--and it won't really matter...those 4-8 extra carbs aren't going to break you; however, if you plan on drinking for a long period of time--say at a softball game, or a BBQ, or during an afternoon of bowling, then by all means, the taste sacrifice is worth the number of carbohydrates you save.

Speaking of beers and especially AB products. I learned this weekend, from a bottler who will go unnamed (but I assure you, his name isn't Laverne), that if necessary, AB will run Bud into the Busch line or the Natty Light line, but never the other way around. So, if you've ever had a Natty Light and said to someone, "This tastes just like Bud," remember, it could BE Bud, but the next time, buddy, WATCH OUT.
Christy 7:53 PM

 
Damn and damn. I forgot my library books and they are due today; I wonder if I can renew them without having the books present????

Yesterday, after working out, I drove out to MO BOTTOM to pick up the Pissed-Off Bastard, who's car needs a new fuel pump. We had a couple of ICE cold beers at this dive called "The Airport Chalet." Then, he wanted to take me to dinner somewhere and I'm like, uh, I'm wearing my WORKOUT clothes and my hair is like, um, FLAT. "Okay," he said, "We'll just go somewhere in Soulard then."

This morning he drove in with me to take the Meto Link. He's always looking for short-cuts. (or as he would say, shart cuts):

The POB (as we are walking from my car toward the Shuttle Stop): Isn't there some way we can just cut across there (he points)?
Me: I'm sure there is, sweetie, but the Metro Link station is over there (pointing in the opposite direction.)
Christy 5:23 PM

Monday, October 07, 2002

 
Bowling was fun. It's amazing how "not terrified" I am in this particular group of "strangers." It was a fun thing for a Sunday afternoon.

The weekend, was in general, pleasant. Except for Saturday morning when the POB, who had gone into work to do the billing, called me and needed a ride because his car wouldn't start. After some bullshit along the lines of "...just forget it, I'll find a ride..." (all I wanted to know was if I had time to blow dry my hair first) I told him I'd be there in 30 minutes (he works out near the airport--I'm downtown).

So, there I am tooling out 70 and have just crossed Riverview when my cell phone rings: "You don't even know where I am" he says.

"Where are you?"

"I'm walking down Chouteau."

"Lovely, I'm at Riverview and 70."

Despite the fact that I could have taken the high road (hehe) and just turned around, I took the opportunity to point out that at least 5 minutes passed between the time I hung up and the time I left my house. And, god knows, many more had passed from that time to the time I hit RIVERVIEW. Geesh. And THEN, one of his friends saw him walking and picked him up and he called to tell me that he was going for a drink somewhere, but didn't invite me. As if. "You mean that I'm now sitting in stopped traffic after hauling ass to get your butt and you can't even buy me a drink?????"

I met him at the Cat's Meow. And then Andy from AB gave me a hard time because the POB had to WAIT ON ME. "Andy," I said, "I only have three words to say..." The three words were supposed to be: Lucas and Hunt (which is where I turned around) but Andy said instead: "Fuck off, Andy" and THEN I decided to take the high road and let those be the 3 words instead. Eventually, the POB loosened up some.

I went to Gladstones to get something to eat and saw Russ Anderson play--he's not bad, actually; I bought a CD. His playlist is extensive and has all kinds of stuff on it--from John Denver to the Counting Crows.
Christy 7:12 PM

Friday, October 04, 2002

 
So, I look forward to seeing all of the STLBloggers at Tropicana on Sunday (unless we have tickets for the game)!

Have a great weekend.
Christy 11:47 PM

 
The Hammer has posted!
Christy 10:15 PM

 
One of the themes underlying the blogs I've been reading lately is that of the alter-ego. I don't have one. At least I don't think I do. My boyfriend would beg to differ (he would say, if he were familiar with the reference, "She's Sybil). My mother, the woman, who asked a new mutual acquaintance, "Which Christy did you meet?" after he'd met me for the first time, would also insist that I have several alter-egos. I asked her what she meant. "Sometimes you're haughty, sometimes coquettish," she said, and began to list every personality trait I've ever exhibited.

But none of this is what I mean. I want an alter ego like Clark Kent and Superman or Peter Parker and Spiderman, Diana Prince and Wonder Woman. But not like that either. I don't want to be a hero, I just want to have super powers; I want omnipotence (though I'm willing to work my way up to that).

ENTER: THE HAMMER OF GOD. PUTTING STRAIGHT THE MISTAKES GOD* MADE. The Hammer of God will right her own wrongs (and the wrongs of people she likes and who ask nicely, as long as she agrees and is in the mood).


*Disclaimer: I don't necessarily believe in God, in the regular sense, but THE HAMMER OF GOD does.


The Hammer of God has her OWN web page.
Christy 6:42 PM

Thursday, October 03, 2002

 
Damn. Larry emailed me today to tell me he heard that the POB was banned from Molly's on Monday. However, that doesn't really jibe with the POB's story of his movements on Monday. Even before I told him why I wanted to know, the POB denied being at Molly's on Monday and continued to say, "It wasn't me," when I called him back to tell him why.

This upsets me on a number of levels--not the least of which is that this big turn-around of his is based on some sort of freaky-ass LIE--a lie he HAD to know he would get caught in. This is why I'm not sure it's true--the guy who supposedly banned him may not actually recognize him--I'm rarely in Molly's with Jeff and this guy has only seen him a couple of times. Larry initially told me that this guy AND Missy said it was him, but it turned out that SHE didn't see him--Randy just told her--and her ID I'd have to trust. Also, the circumstances don't sound like the POB. For one, he wouldn't leave his seat for 20 minutes and then come back. Even if he planned to be gone briefly, he'd smoke and bring his beer with him. This guy supposedly did. The second reason is that the POB isn't violent and wouldn't pick a fight with anyone at a bar (he only picks fights with me and then only when I insist). However, I could see him accusing someone of taking his cigarettes, but he'd be more inclined to leave and never go back than to pick a fight.

But this really upsets me. If it's true, then I don't think I'll be comfortable in Molly's again, not to mention that I have to deal with the fact that he lied to me. Not just on Tuesday when he told me what he'd done, but also today (twice). Third, it makes me feel like an idiot because I didn't know.

Larry, next time just say nothing.
Christy 10:57 PM

 
For Art (October 3, 1941 - October 3, 1999):

Three years ago this morning, I woke up near 6 am on a Sunday and curled up into a ball and cried. Dan, who had grown used to these sudden crying jags over the last month or so, put his arm around me and said nothing. He learned the hard way I didn't want him to talk. He didn't know Art very well or very long before he got sick and there wasn't anything he could say to comfort me.

I planned to go see Art again that day. It was his birthday and I had bought him a neck scarf. When I was home for Christmas the previous year and sad about Mercer and how we couldn't be together, he gave me his neck scarf and said, "You just need a neck scarf, that's all. A neck scarf will make you feel better." Even when I returned to North Carolina and was feeling down, Art would ask me if I was wearing my scarf.

He was my best friend. Despite our age difference (he was even older than my parents). However, I was apprehensive about visiting him that day. This was because J______ and I got into a fight back in September and as Art's self-appointed caregiver, encouraged his errant son who came up from Florida (after being a no-show for many, many years) not to allow visitors--pointedly, me. It was a cruel, heartless thing to do both to me and to Art, who, by this time, was incapacitated (and may not have known that she wasn't allowing me to visit, but surely wondered where I was).

I feel guilty for not insisting upon seeing him, for NOT making waves. But, I really dreaded confrontation. Additionally, I was in denial with regard to how much time he had left. I maintained contact with his daughter, who was also caught up in all this mess with her younger brother and also a persona non grata around Art's house, where his son had taken up residence and where Art was living out the remainder of his life. On Friday, October 1st, Laurie, Art's daughter called me at work and in the course of our conversation I realized that the younger brother had returned to Florida for one reason or another and J________ was at work. Laurie's other brother was taking care of his father. I left work immediately and after a brief orientation from Art's son, Mike, I walked into the room. He was small and frail and only a science-fiction remnant of the 6'1" 240 lb man I'd known all these years.

Art couldn't talk. The cancer had quickly spread into his brain, but I knew he knew me and I knew he wondered where I'd been. I sat with him for an hour. He picked up my hand and looked at my fingernails, which I'd just had done a few days before. He lifted my eyebrows (I was very vain about my nails and after a manicure, I would flash my hands around and say, "Look at my nails!"). "Well, I like them," I said.

He couldn't speak, but he managed to eke out an "I love you" (although without the consonants). I cried, even though he told me 8 months ago that crying would not be allowed. I held his hand and then promised to come back over the weekend.

It was the first time I understood the word "bittersweet."

Sunday morning at 9:00, as I was agonizing over my impending visit and the possibility of running into J_______ (Mike, the good son, told me he'd clear my future visits with the other son), the phone rang. Barb said, "I guess if I'm calling you this early, you know it's not a good thing."

"You knew this morning," Dan said, when I told him. And I guess I did. Art died on his 58th birthday. I was relieved that his suffering had ended and relieved that I had an opportunity to say goodbye. I didn't cry much in those days after he died. Mostly I felt angry at J_______ for keeping us apart. I know she was always jealous of my relationship with him (she'd known him much longer, but we were much closer), but what she did was irrevocable. I can never get those 2 months back. My mother told me to forgive and forget. I couldn't do it.

He came to visit me often in the following couple of months. I didn't see or hear him, I just felt him there--just like I asked. And then at the end of November, he left. I felt him go. And then I could cry.

I maintained a hatred for J________ for a very long time. And one night, two years later, while I was in the tub, I felt that he wanted me to call her. So, I did. I told her that though we'd probably never be friends again, I just wanted to clear the air so that we could be in the same room together and so that we could be cordial. I kept it short. I didn't want blame to be pushed around, I just wanted to forgive and move on.

I think about him every day; I miss him every day. I miss him saying, "Hi Chris-ty" in that way he did. I miss the predictable emails throughout the day. I miss knowing that there was a rock in my corner.

Your Wildest Dreams
Moody Blues

Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Reflected in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

Once the world was new
Our bodies felt the morning dew
That greets the brand new day
We couldn't tear ourselves away
I wonder if you care
I wonder if you still remember
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

And when the music plays
And when the words are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time
Once beneath the stars
The universe was ours
Love was all we knew
And all I knew was you
I wonder if you know
I wonder if you think about it
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams

And when the music plays
And when the words are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
And when the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time

Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Mirrored in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
In your wildest dreams
In your wildest dreams

Christy 7:50 PM

 
This is for Leesa:

Everybody Farts--sung (roughly) to the tune of REMs Everybody Hurts

When you live on your own and the night, the night is yours alone
Eat beans and sauerkraut and when you've had enough, let go
Oh, let yourself go. Everybody poops and everybody farts sometimes.

Sometimes they come very long. Sometimes they come out strong.
Though you're not in bed alone (let go, let go)
if you feel like letting go (let go, let go)
but if you fell it's more than just a toot, well hang on.

Everybody farts. Feel free to fart in bed.
Everybody farts. But,don't cover up his head, oh no. Don't cover up his head.
You feel like you're alone, oh, no, no, you are not alone.

You're no longer on your own, the days and nights are shared
and so though its fun to fart out loud you will be heard, you will be heard.

Well, everybody farts sometimes
everybody poops. And everybody farts sometimes.
And everybody farts sometimes. So, let go, let go.
Let go, let go. Let go, let go. Let go, let go.
Let go, let go. Let go, let go. Let go, let go.
Let go, let go. Let go, let go. Let go, let go.

(okay, as a mere concept night it was funnier--I didn't realize that REM didn't give me much to work with here.)

Christy 6:23 PM

Wednesday, October 02, 2002

 
I don't think I'm going to work out today; I will work out on Friday instead, yes, that's what I'll do. Or Saturday if we don't go to the ballgame.

I think this week I have cervical cancer, which is sort of a relief from my previous cancer which was colorectal of some sort. Sometimes this job really gets to me. However, treatment for cervical cancer has many life-altering side effects, that might even be worse than rectal or colon cancer. Radiation will cause young women to go into early menopause, plus another risk is the narrowing and shortening of the vagina and painful intercourse (and of course, we all know that I'm already dealing with that issue since the advent of the POB). In addition, icky fistulas can develop between the vagina and the bladder and the vagina and the rectum.

That reminds me of a pregnancy horror story a friend of mine told me when she was pregnant with her first child. A friend of hers had already gone through one pregnancy and thought she'd share the ill-effects of her episiotomy: not long after coming home from the hospital, she sat down on the commode to take a poop and she felt something strange: she looked and by god, it was coming out the wrong orifice (due to a fistula, see).

And I thought I could get through an entire day without talking (or writing) (or reading) about poop.
Christy 11:58 PM

 
I went home yesterday feeling pretty good. Working out generally has that affect on me. I understand that's not so unusual. Anyway, I arrived home, chicken and potatoes already on the grill, the POB in the kitchen wrapping corn in aluminum foil, the dishes done, the floors swept, cold beer in the fridge.

I made note of this without saying much of anything. We sat outside and chatted pleasantly about nothing in particular as I wound down. I asked him where he went last night and he told me that after he left the bar, he bought some beer and went back to his office and "thought." He planned to sleep there, but the place made him uncomfortable so he took a chance and came home.

"One bad thing I did," he started and then hesitated, "I mean, I know I've done lots of bad things to you, but last night I left all those empties in my trash can. I can't imagine what Butch must have thought this morning." I liked the acknowledgement that he knows he hasn't been fair or respectful lately (a long lately).

Later, he wanted to know if I wanted to go to the playoffs and we discussed our available options. It was a very lovely chat. I decided to go upstairs, despite the fact that our conversation had been so lovely, but I was still sweaty and all from they gym. When I stood up, I started to tell him this and he pulled me into a big hug (very unusual), apologized to me and told me that he was going to be better from now on. "One of the things I thought about last night is that I really want to be a normal person again." I can't do anything but believe he can do it, if he wants to, but this is a recurring theme.

Also, I told him I planned to go bowling with the St. Louis Bloggers and though I figured it wasn't his thing, he was welcome to go as well. And, surprise surprise, he took an actual interest and depending on how things progress over the weekend, he might actually accompany me. This is also contingent upon what day we get baseball tickets for and whether or not we play on Sunday.
Christy 7:52 PM

Tuesday, October 01, 2002

 
I begin my 3 day per week workouts today. I met with the exercise guru yesterday and he has me doing some stretches and then 25 minutes on the treadmill and then 10 minutes on the recumbent (sp) cycle. This is supposed to burn 275 calories per session. That doesn't seem like a lot, but with the changes in my diet that will be coming soon (I've already switched to diet in my Captain and Cokes) it is supposed to help. 10 weeks and I should lose at least half the pounds I'm aiming for. By the first of the year I should be trim and fit again. That will make me VERY happy. I'm not used to being pudgy.
Christy 11:50 PM

 
Okay, my chronic boyfriend syndrome has gotten worse. It's bad enough he keeps coming back, but how can I change the locks if he WON'T LEAVE??? I'm not sure that's what I want, though. I really just want a normal relationship--I'd prefer it be with him--I bitch about him a lot, but I really do love him and he certainly makes my life interesting. I just want to have regular sex and intimacy with someone again. I understand that we can't right now, but even when it wasn't so bad, we didn't (for logistical reasons, mostly). And the lack of sex coupled with another event sort of stunted our growing intimacy early on. I just want things to be different.

He seemed more willing to talk about this today before we were interrupted. Maybe I'll try when I get home.

We really do get on well, at least in terms of the mechanics of living together. With the exception of Eye-talian dressing slathered all over everything, we eat the same foods (well his set of FOODSHE'LLEAT is more of a subset of the FOODSI'LLEAT, but it makes dinner easier).

Who am I fooling? Anyway, it used to be that I didn't have the wherewithall to go through the emotional hassle of a breakup, now I think I'm more afraid of the post-breakup revulsion. You know, the "I cannot believe I dated him" thing. It happens to me every time--eventually I get over it, but I'm not in the mood to deal with it right now.
Christy 10:54 PM

 
The Pissed-off Bastard is about at the end of his rope. Seriously. Last night about 6 or so, he said he couldn't tell me at that point when he might be home, so I suggested that if that were the case, he not come home at all. In fact, I wanted him to be perfectly clear about this so I left him a message at 8:00 or so repeating this information. The phone rang at 2:42 am; I was strong I didn't answer it, didn't give in.

For what that was worth: this morning at 5:30, I went downstairs for water and I heard a noise in the living room. I turned on the light and lo! the POB sleeping on the futon.

Chronic Boyfriend Syndrome. Unfortunately, the only cure for this is lock changing and my health insurance doesn't cover the cost.
Christy 6:40 PM

 
So, this is from ILoveBenBrown

cbean says:
I'm getting mulitple hits on my website from the google search string "ben+brown+ani+moller+divorce" in a variety of combinations. It's true, I do have all these words on my site, but not all in the same sentence...
This, coupled with an enigmatic post on Ani's site, and an emblematic press release at www.benandani.com sounds alarming.
It's also how rumors get started. Perhaps it's just that we haven't had a good meme since the Kayce business???????????

Ben Brown says:
NO COMMENT.

internamy says:
Oy gevalt.

cbean says:
Damn, Ben, I'm sorry...

-hopper says:
yeah. I started wondering about all that last week after the zulkey interview...:
But we got married. And now we live in Austin. And we'll see how long that lasts.
Life: Keeping you on your toes since 197X. Indeed.

jstegall says,Thursday, 26 Sep
A public website is a good place to ask about things like this.

guy_parsons says,Monday, 30 Sep
Like, i know the talk on this message board is pretty fast and free, but 'cbean', there is a time and place for everything, and this is neither the time nor the place for *that*.

benbrown says,Monday, 30 Sep
People:
Thank you for your concern. However, at this time, I'm not going to talk about this subject in public. Sorry!

cbean says,Tuesday, 1 Oct
Guy_Parsons: quite frankly, I'm not talking about anything. I merely asked why I was suddenly getting those particular hits on my website (and the number, by the way, has taken over the number of Kelly Ripa hits). I thought there might be an explanation. And I got it (BBs: "NO COMMENT"). I sent my sympathies and then I shut up. I didn't ask for fucking details so get off my back already. I don't need to be scolded for bad manners.

Interesting, however, that Ani doesn't have the same sort of "protection" on her board.

Christy 5:48 PM