Public Service Announcements

You read it right. It is not a spelling error. It is plural.

I have several announcements to make and I would like to list them as the consummate professional I am. As such, I am volunteering my time and energy to sponsor--to publish these very important public announcements.

Public Service Announcement One:

I have found the remedy for the 10-day flu/illness/swine flu/sickness from hell. It is Stella.

Tested, double-blind placebo, done.

Note: I don't know the chemistry, I don't care. For all you naysayers, the lager either drowns the fluttering bird or coats the stomach lining. Maybe it numbs the pain. All I know is that it provides sweet relief. Those Belgiums really nailed it. Again. Neanderthals? Hardly!

Public Service Announcement Two:

Please note, this announcement is ONLY for single, chaste people over the age of 30.

Now is no time to abstain. Copulation is REALLY good. Like, THE BEST.

Note: You're not getting any younger and shooting up heroin is still illegal. And what if...what if, there is no celestial kingdom?

Public Service Announcement Three:

Today is Friday, January 15. I have made only good decisions today:

1. I verbally declared: "I will never work another day in my life."

2. I wrote on the wall above my bed: "I will read Don Quixote."

3. I made the decision that I must do something that is going to be very difficult. Now.

Note: Only number three will actually happen.

Public Service Announcement Four:

Skinny Jeans on Guys: Fashion or Fate?

Remember the controversy surrounding male bikers who couldn't knock up their wives? Excessive biking caused impotence and a low sperm count. Yea, in summary, pressure from the bike seat on the area surrounding the scrotum was the culprit. Too tight. Toight as a tiger. Just like the painted-on jeans that all the hipsters are wearing. T i g h t. So leave the boys in skinny jeans alone. Artificial Selection is often unintentional. Natural Selection is unavoidable.

Note: I would be very depressed if my boyfriend wore smaller jeans than me. I would secretly try to squeeze into them and cry. And then I would tell him, "It's not you ... it's your genes--I mean jeans!"

Public Service Announcement Five:

I had a pang of missing the friends I used to work with at the frankfurter food processing plant. For example, Erin, whose eyes reveal what she is thinking in less than two seconds but her dry wit remains unsurpassed. And Jocey (who lets me call her Jocey even though no one else does) who demands respect by her wardrobe alone, who is ambitious, smart, honest, persistent, and totally unappreciated. And Courtney and Amber with their humor and sarcasm and the legendary soy latte that saved my life. I miss other people too. Actually, not really.

Note: I don't want to be a man. Ever. Being a woman in the workforce may be demeaning, but being a man is even worse. Grown men giving other grown men blow jobs is much more pathetic than never being promoted to upper management.

That is all.

enormous changes at the last minute

sometimes i complain. i am trying not to but god dammit, i am only human.

i don't have any complaints at the moment. but i am a contradiction expert of sorts.

for example, i'll say 'no' when i mean 'yes'. i will smile when i am not happy. i'll pretend to be listening but i am not, usually. or i'll say i don't complain when it's a well known fact that all i do is complain. and i have also been referred to as dramatic. i disagree but i am amicable with my critics.

it's no secret that i have issues that reach far into the universe that my mortal body will eventually have to face but will avoid in my next life ... by choosing to be a plant or a really smart dog.

anyway, the really, really, really abstract point is ... i love birds. i do. they bring messages. they bring comfort. they sing. they are adorable. and on and on. maybe i'll write a tremendously boring blog about birds one day. i digress, i usually can interpret their messages. but i have a small problem... there is bird in my belly right now that i can't understand. and it is making me sick. it's convincing me that i have a brain tumor, the swine flu, an infected ulcer, or any other illness that makes you super sick and ornery. throwing up, headaches, stomach ache, the usual cold/flu symptoms, oh, and being a jerk to your boyfriend. the bird flutters and says that i should run. really, really, really fast somewhere and hide. or fly. i am, after all, a pajarito myself. i am accustomed to running and flying fast.

i'm just sick. so maybe the bird is telling me to hide for a week under the covers and sleep? not likely. birds are messengers, not lazy like cats or three-toed sloths. and i have big plans for 2010. you should see our pad. it's really coming together. and my daughter made my day the other night with just five unexpected words. and my boyfriend is an insomniac but also... (ok, i'll go ahead and say it, but keep in mind, i have a fever and may be clinically daft)... i have a boyfriend who unexpectedly came into my life that i love, like, love love. i know, i swore i wouldn't be one of those assholes but i am.

he won't let me run. he's smart. he is obsessed with music. and he has defied death for me--he didn't know at the time he was doing it for me, but turns out, he was. (ok, that's a stretch but it might be a lifetime movie one day.) he has changed me. he's adorable, funny, and loves Gizmo.

anyway, the year is exactly opposite of what i expected--which is usually the case with most things in my life. and the bird in my belly is usually an indicator of enormous changes at the last minute(1). and i love change. i do. so i guess i just need to convince my body that it is a sickness of excitement rather than something that is tragically wrong. so, bring on the diet of chicken broth and coca-cola. i am sick with excitement!

(1) Grace Paley

Auld Lang Syne Life is Long

Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?

I kiss 2009 goodbye with love. Not really interested in looking back on anything terrible, I am just looking forward.

And, I have to say, 2010 has been a good year for me. I really have loved every minute of it so far. Minimal hangovers, amazing friends, my grandma's birthday party with lots of family ... AND I have already given my bathroom a makeover.

My first meal in 2010 was a Big Mac from McDonald's (of course). My first kiss has made me belly-laugh every single day so far. My daughter has hugged me every day. And I have been happy.

There is a common saying about life being too short. But I think life is long. Life is long. Days are long. Days are full of worrying, fighting, working, thinking, wasting, trying, failing, hating, comparing, gossiping, conspiring, grieving, leaving, regretting, talking ... dreaming, loving, traveling, achieving, laughing, inspiring, smiling, living, running, listening, kissing, illuminating, learning, sharing, drinking, reading, forgiving, resolving, renewing ... Life is too long to spend it being miserable. So I am going to try.

Really try.

"Auld lang syne" literally translated to English is "old long since" or, idiomatically as "long, long, ago".

Oh, hello 2010.

Oh, life is long and hollow ...

Cue my own New Year's Auld Lang Syne : Handsome Furs Hate This City

woke up with blankets in buildings with jaws
stuck to the sheets, clammy with noon
we wish for night-time, a darkening screen
hoping the heart is just a machine

oh, there was home
oh, there was home

this one is vicious, a sinister lean
we haunted the staircase where small ghosts have been
we knew that heaven was stretched out and wide
pinned to the sky, pinned to the sky

oh, there was home

oh, there was home

oh, life is long and hollow
oh, life is long and hollow

oh, life is long and hollow

oh, life is long and hollow

we hate this city and its drone
we hate this city and its drone

we hate this city and its drone

we hate this city and its drone

so black out a million screens
and wire up the floor

baby we can get you anything you want
anytime you want
but you'll wonder what its for

so black out a million screams
and wire up all the floors

baby we can get you anything you want
anytime you want
but you'll wonder what its for

A Complex Recipe for Holiday E Coli

Sometimes simplicity is more complex than one would ever imagine.
Sometimes Jews are stranger than Christians.
And sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.

And that explains why I absolutely loathe the holidays. I hate the commercialism; I hate not having money; I hate the expectation kids have for an obscene amount of gifts; and I hate the day after Thanksgiving when 6:00 am tramplings at Walmart are socially acceptable.

Halloween is like the pull tab on the beer can of the holiday season; New Year's is like the faded, drunken blur right before passing out after months of hard liquor that undoubtedly caused irreversible liver damage. The three months between these two holidays lies the feckless dysfunction of the season. Some call it the pinnacle (or joyous culmination) of the holidays; I like to refer to it as the worst time I never remember. I often think to myself, 'Am I drunk or does everyone hate me?'

Alternatively, I often wonder if I am the only one who gets it... except for Clark:

Nevertheless, being that we are smack-dab in the abomination, I have decided to make a list of the sweetest things that have happened in 2009. Following that list (because I am Carly), I would also like to share a few of the rotten things that happened in 2009. After all, in retrospect, you can't know real happiness until you experience one disaster after another.

Ten Sweetest Things in 2009 (in no particular order):

10. Watching Chloe, Ady, Piper and Max grow into the most amazing nieces and nephew ever.

9. Sneaking into BlizzCon with my charming friends and co-workers to see Ozzy Osbourne.

8. Visiting Melanie in Monterrey with Mindy... and relishing all the hungry butts that we saw.

7. Seeing the following bands in concert: Pearl Jam, Sunset Rubdown, Yo La Tengo, Bon Iver, M. Ward, Conner Oberst & the Mystic Valley Band, Black Keys, Sonic Youth, Cursive, White Rabbits, AA Bondy, The Hold Steady, Will Sartain & Giant, Vile Blue Shades, The Devil Whale, Band of Annuals, Starmy, Purr Bats, Black Hens, Future of the Ghost, Ok Ikumi, Blind Pilot, Peter and the Wolf, Laura Gibson, David Williams, Cub Country, Bluebird Radio, Tough Tittie, Ten out of Tenn, Leslie and the Badgers, Big Gun Baby, Blitzen Trapper, and more and more and more and more.

6. Adopting Ellie and Zor, my very special puppies.

6. (Yes, I know. Two 6's.) Meeting Justin Hackworth.

5. Kelly getting married and reuniting with her, Bethie and Jacki.

4. My unbelievable, smart, beautiful daughter becoming an official teenager: 13!

3. Meeting and falling in love with The Family, and a memorable summer of Smoking Sundays and nights at the Gallivan Center.

2. Seeing The National in Milwaukee and Chicago with Fuschnickens.

1. Falling in love, finally and genuinely.

Ten Rotten Things in 2009 (in no particular order):

10. Winter: It's cold, annoying, and makes me cranky. Sometimes it gives me dysmenorrhea. And diarrhea, too.

9. Learning that people you trust are disingenuous, greedy, liars, fake, chameleon-like, selfish, imprudent, threatened, unintelligent, simple, loquacious, cowardly, vaginal douche kits. Note to self: work is a place we go to make money and get bullied. It is not a place to make friends; it's not a place to believe anything you hear; it's not a place to allow your boss to stare at your boobs; it's not real life.

8. Three of the most important boys in my life going through traumatic experiences: Two had seizures that scared me to death. The other one - and I'm not naming names - (Brooks) hit his head and forgot who I am; we used to be bff's.

7. Having to pay $2.50 to say, "You goddamn fucking shit ass printer! Do you want to die?"

6. Being "let go" or "dismissed" or "parting ways" from work, in a REALLY childish and puerile way. (Note: I will NEVER work 100+ hours a week for some chode whose only instructions are to "make me look good".)

5. Losing my sweet puppy, Zor, to some jerk who didn't even stop to tell us he hit him.

4. Not being able to get over Dr. Phil.

3. Losing our precious Sunny girl on March 20.

2. Being a perpetual disappointment with perceived reckless abandon that make people worry about me. I don't want people to worry about me. Believe it or not, I've made it 34-years, and although I've made some mistakes, I know who I am and what I am doing. And I even believe that I have raised The Teenager to the best of my abilities.

1. Not spending enough time with Chloe and my family; particularly my nieces and nephew.

I think 2010 will be a good year. I sure do. I don't care if I have to have a therapist. I have great friends and great siblings. I am sure I will still make mistakes but... without my mistakes, I'm just an ordinary douche kit (refer to #9). And I'd rather be anything but that.

Something sweet.

I have the sweetest, most adorable Jakovasaur that lives in my attic.

We both have insomnia. Well, mostly just he does. So last night we both pulled an all-nighter and he helped me so much (I was working on a tight deadline). Jakov made me laugh, he got me a coke with extra extra ice, and he showed me videos of drag car races. He is also photoshopping a picture of Gizmo in her pink convertible that rules. More importantly, he gave me something sweet.

This morning we made Chloe and Jocey breakfast for Chloe's 13th birthday. He made the most delicious french toast with a crispy hat. It was awesome.

I am crazy about him. So much so that it warrants a blog entry. He will be a big contributor to my survival this winter. I just don't know what I would do without him. Thanks, baby.

Winter blows.

Each year, the first few weeks of winter come crashing in with icy winds, below freezing temps, and blustering snow. And every year I think to myself that my body won't survive another winter in Utah--that it will be physically impossible to live through this. But somehow I manage to get through it.

This morning I woke up shivering. I could hear the wind snapping and whipping, wrapping itself around the house, the house wincing and creaking with each gust. I forced my feet to hit the cold floor to assess the situation from a window. Wind. Snow. Ice. Frost. Thank you, no.

I begged my tiny pup Ellie to go outside to use the bathroom. When she cowered at the snow drift coming in the door, I honestly considered training her to use a human toilet or even the corner of the shower... something, anything, to avoid the biting cold. But like me, she's tough. And she ran out and braved the elements.

And I ran back to my bed with an extra quilt. This is where I'll work from today. My bones will eventually have to face the ridiculousness of the season, just not today. If only I had a bottle of Jameson right now, I'd be the happiest girl in Utah.

This family eats a lot of toast.

History was made last weekend.

My grandma is a lady. She doesn't swear, act fresh, or dress inappropriately.

In fact, she has NEVER said the 'F' word and she maintained that I would likely see my death before I ever heard it from her mouth.

That sentence was true until last Saturday. I came downstairs to help put up Christmas decorations. Apparently I was too late.

grandma: "Thanks for your help."

me: "Well, you need to ask when you want people to help you."

grandma: "I did. Everything is done but the Christmas lights."

me: "Well here I am so I guess I'll put up the fucking Christmas lights."

(short pause)

grandma: "I don't have any fucking Christmas lights."

She said it. And I think she nailed it. If you're only going to use the word once in your life... use it wisely. It made me very happy and I hung the Christmas lights outside in the cold.

Later she told me I backed her into a corner and she had no choice but to say it. Her reasoning only makes me love it more. She's a fighter.