Thursday, June 28, 2007
At least with slime like Cheney, I get it. It's about money and power. Using the death of a couple's young son to make what I think was supposed to be a joke? I can't even figure out what the hell she's talking about. Sooner or later even Andrew Dice Clay got to a punchline.

In Search of Entertainment
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Out of Office Alert: Please Stop and Read the Following Message.

I will be on vacation with my family all next week, holed up in a lake house north of the Smokey Mountains. I'm excited to relax and spend time with my munchkin niece and nephew...but I have to admit, I'm not entirely sure what all we're going to DO out there in the wilderness. We're not exactly outdoorsy folk. After years of camping and Girl Scouting, my sister and I would agree that time outside is best spent in the shade, in a hammock, reading a book.

Here is my current list of ideas for things to do:
applying copious amounts of SPF 70
golfing (or in my case, hoping I only have to yell FORE! once or twice)

Aaaaaannnnnnddddd...that's all I can think of. So here's where YOU come in.

Any ideas? Any suggestions you leave in the comments section will be considered and maybe even documented in photos for blogging when I return home. Let me know, you clever, clever people.

Puppy Love
Monday, June 25, 2007
I make no secret of my desire for a second dog. It's simply not a good idea for me to have two right now, so I with every animal shelter website I find, and every cute homeless canine I read about, I repeat an internal mantra: "You don't have the time, you don't have the money," over and over and over again. I was doing okay until THIS happened...

I'd like to introduce you to Phoebe. She is the new furry child of my best friend Kate and her fiancee Dave. This sunday, they went to an adoption event and BITCHES SHOT MY MANTRA TO PIECES by adopting little Pheebs. Bastards. So, of course, I took Doc over there this evening to socialize with his new girlfriend.

He responded by running away from her, and cowering under the kitchen table. Awesome. Nice job, Doc, you adorable pansy ass, you. Way to be manly and appealing.

Seriously though, this little bundle named with a P is one of the most adorable pups with whom I have ever come into slobbery contact. I intend to negotiate an arranged marriage between the two dogs, wherein Doc (as an older gentleman) woos the lovely and agile Phoebe, and since he will (at that time) be roughly 35 pounds smaller than she will, she can carry his fur children with no unseemly weight gain whatsoever. I'm looking out for everyone's best interest, here, I swear. I'm having the papers drawn up first thing tomorrow morning.

Congratulations, Kate and Dave!

Two People I Will Never Understand
1. Pete Doherty of Babyshambles, UK

Photo from People

Because...eew. Just eew.


2. Beth Ditto of The Gossip, USA

Photo from Dlisted

Girlfriend obviously has a major axe to grind with this whole underwear thing. Beth, we get it. You're fat and proud, I think that's great. Freedom of expression is so important - so I'm going to express my displeasure with you always being photographed in your skivvies. Why is this necessary? The whole "rockstar in their underwear thing" has SO been done. Done and done. As in, put'cher damn clothes back on.

Update in List Format
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Top Ten Things Jamie Currently Loves
1. Pepperoni
2. Sleep
3. Chicago weather
4. Rearranging furniture
4. Her niece (Happy Fourth Birthday, Bri Bri!)
5. Summer hours at work
6. Craigslist
7. The dog
8. 42 oz. Diet Cokes for $0.98 at McDonald's
9. Comfy pants
10. Banana Republic's Fresh Nectar body lotion and spray

Top Ten Things Jamie Currently Hates
1. Her on-demand cable not working
2. Comcast
3. Her internet connectivity being out
4. The dog's abrupt decision to change his morning eating schedule
5. Comcast
6. Perez Hilton
7. PMS
8. Balancing her checkbook
9. Oprah
10. Did I mention Comcast?

Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Avast! - Stop and give attention. This word, like many pirate words, has multiple meanings, so it can also can be used in place of, "Whoa! Get a load of that!" "Check it out" or "No way!" or "Get off!"

Davy Jones would be so proud. The pirate AND the Monkee - and wouldn't Davy Jones the Monkee make an entertaining pirate? I think so.

Enough Already
Monday, June 18, 2007
Does there HAVE to be another Die Hard movie? Really? I don't think there does - is it maybe too late to get Grandpa Willis to change his mind, or is that just wishful thinking on my part?

Lessons My Father Taught Me
Sunday, June 17, 2007
No one said life was fair.

Work is fine, but everyone deserves to have a job they really love.

Family is everything.

"An eye for an eye" is a good way to go blind.

If you have to ask, then the answer is probably no.

Never wear scrunch socks with low-top Chuck Taylors.

Okay, maybe that last one is a lesson I learned from looking at the above photo. (shrugs) It was junior high - I didn't know any better. Besides, who the hell else but me would wear a sweater to the damn Grand Canyon? No one, that's who.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

Love, Jamie

Friday, June 15, 2007
In the canine world, it goes without saying that dachshund owners are crazy on several levels - they possess a very specific brand of masochism, fueled by love, that includes putting up with a host of totally unappealing character traits. Things like incessant barking, easy weight gain (usually caused by eating anything in sight, including dirty underwear and loose change), severe territorialism, bad teeth, nervous urination, and revenge pooping. To know a dachshund is to love (and simultaneously hate) a dachshund. But the love! Oh, the love.

I preach because I know. I grew up with the angriest dachshund this side of the Mason-Dixon (who regularly bit me), and my current pup is half dachshund. I willingly prepare for the worst - especially potential issues, as the dachshund "standard" often manifests itself in mildly...ahem...offputting ways.

For a prime example, click here.

Now please excuse me while I go kneel in prayer for a few minutes about how my particular dachshund has a personality akin to his other (maybe) half, the affable, lovable, black labrador.

Passive Aggressive? Surely you jest.
I'm sorry if you have already seen this website, but I have to put it out there, because it is SO DAMN FUNNY and you will spend all weekend doubled over in laughter at what you find there.

Click here for the hilarity

Thursday, June 14, 2007
In any case, I never forgot the drooly, vaguely mean-spirited way the three deputies would flirt with Tammy and then with me. It always made me feel under threat, those three beefy men with guns and nightsticks and radios and lots and lots of local power, making kissing faces at me, occasionally rubbing against me, brushing an "accidental" hand over my ass. They knew they could never push it further since my father was their boss. That was a relief but not enough of one to ever make me comfortable around them. When I thought "cop," I thought about many unpleasant things, three of which were Otis and Mel and Buddy taking turns with Twenty-Dollar Tammy while their radios crackled.

How Royally Embarassing Is It That Lance Was My Favorite One?
Tuesday, June 12, 2007


Tuesday Thanks
Monday, June 11, 2007
Some bloggers write to feed their own egos, others for the emotional or mental outlet. Some just want to hear how adorable their children are on their Flickr pages, and still more are genuinely excellent writers -- although those pages are few and far between. The following blog falls into that final, elusive category.

I don't remember when I started reading All & Sundry. I do remember, however, that I bookmarked it almost immediately, and haven't stopped reading since. Her writing is frank, witty, complex, wry, and completely entertaining. She can make a post about baby poop, home renovation, or zombie theory just as entertaining as the story of how she photoshopped her armband tattoo out of a photo for the sake of her future in-laws.

Today, she put up a post that is candid and arresting. Reading it was a shock to my system, like someone had ripped part of me open and left it to sting in the open air. I don't know what her motivation was, and I don't really care, because her message is so utterly relevant and, well, IMPORTANT. I think it is vital for us all to remember that good people make mistakes, good people stumble sometimes, good people fail themselves and others. But the getting up - that is what really matters.

Thank you, Linda, for sharing something so unbelievably private and personal, so that we can all remember what it means to fall down and get back up that we are reminded to be thankful for the ones who love us, and even more thankful to be able to look back on difficult times and say that we have learned something.

Weekend Round-Up
The 94th birthday "party" went off without a hitch. I took the train up to my sister's place, we picked up the ankle biters, and were on our way to the land of cheese and outlet shopping, otherwise known as Southeastern Wisconsin. On the way, I introduced my nephew to Kashi's Heart to Heart cereal (and didn't have to see the results of the fiberrific diaper!), and named some breadsticks just to be silly (Beauregard, Millicent, and I can't remember the third...maybe Ferdinand?). I really love those kids, even when they're being little shits. Yes, I said it. They might be cute, but damn, they can turn on you in an instant.

Which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Sex & The City, when Samantha calls Brady an asshole, and gets chided by Carrie for it. She is quick to point out that Miranda had recently called her own son a "meatloaf," and if she could do that, then Carrie's scolding was unjustified. I like that logic.

So the birthday lunch was uneventful, save for Bri's inadvertant header into the framing of a swinging glass door. The folks at Perkins (we are klassy like that) gave her a balloon, and suddenly it was like the fall never even happened. Amazing. Also? My sister and her husband bought a new computer, which means she HAD BETTER UPDATE HER BLOG THIS SUMMER, MISSY. I MEAN IT. BECAUSE I SAID SO. NO ONE SAID LIFE WAS FAIR. DON'T HIT YOUR SISTER. I WILL PULL THIS CAR OVER, AND COME BACK THERE, YOUNG LADY.


We finished off the day with my very old grandmother asking me what I thought of the recent Paris Hilton media frenzy, and whether or not I thought she should go back to jail. It cracks me up that a woman who can't hear half of any given conversation is suddenly up to date on all breaking news coming out of LA. She also informed me that she didn't approve of the way Paris Hilton dressed herself. You and me both, Grams. You and me both.

Sunday was race day, and a boring one at that. Stupid Pocono, rained out. What is with all the damn rain this year? If it rains at the Chicagoland event, I will pitch a fit the likes of which the Midwest has never seen! So Sean and I stayed in, got some work done, and I indulged myself in my latest guilty pleasure-slash-obsession, Army Wives on Lifetime. I refuse to watch many shows for fear that I'll become obsessed - those shows include Grey's Anatomy, Top Chef, Survivor, American Idol, and 24. Haven't seen 'em, don't want to...but Army Wives? I'll drop everything to watch it. I'm contradictory like that.

This week is going to be all about rearranging my condo, and cleaning it top to bottom. Also, I plan on spending my evenings enjoying my sweet, sweet internet connectivity. I missed you, my internet.

Friday, June 08, 2007
I'm at home, typing this entry on my computer. Online. At home.


My internet and cable is back, and Paris Hilton is actually going to serve out her jail sentence, just like every other person in the world. Looks like it's going to be a good weekend after all.

Simmering Down
Thursday, June 07, 2007
My cable-industry-related anger is at an all-time, but manageable, high. I'm like the saucepot full of roasted garlic marinara that hasn't yet started to boil, but you know when it begins, it's going to splatter like a CSI crime scene all over your kitchen. So sleep with one eye open, Comcast. Oh yes.

Adding fuel to the flame are my weekend plans. What is it about summer that promises stress-free, lazy days on the weekends, then SLAMS YOU with social events and expectations? Those Country Time Lemonade commercials were LYING, that's all I'm sayin'. I'll be in Wisconsin (Williams Bay, WHUH WHUH!) on Saturday to celebrate my maternal grandmother's 94th birthday. Raise the geriatric roof, ya'll. When I spoke with her a week or so ago, was talking about how all of her friends are so much younger than she is - and they're in their 80s. She's so spunky still, and makes me laugh.

Also this weekend is a much-feared event here in my neighborhood. On Saturday and Sunday, my quiet, friendly neighborhood will turn into this:

Have I mentioned recently that I hate crowds? So I plan on spending Sunday inside, watching the race, and counting my blessings.

And trying not to be angry.

Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
I still don't have internet at home. An unfortunate combination of factors (but mostly a series of regional outages that, apparently, have no estimated time of conclusion) keep the cable service reps from being able to schedule a third service visit. So what was a simple weak/bad signal coming into my unit is now a full-on nightmare of phone calls, copious note taking, fist-shaking, and completely justified outbursts of profanity. I can't even request a billing credit yet, because the problem hasn't been solved. Because of the outages. Because each outage blocks the customer service people from being able to access my information. To request a service call. To fix the problem. So now I just keep calling back, asking if the outage has been resolved. Mix that in with seventy-five trillion keypad options just to GET to speak with a representative, and there you have it: the recipe for both disaster and insanity.

If you've emailed me at either of my web-based email addresses, I apologize that I have not responded. I can't view those accounts at work (firewall), and obviously can't get to them at home. I would make use of wireless at my local library or Panera, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't appreciate me dragging my enormous iMac around their place of business.

I have, however, spoken at length with some unsuspecting folks at the Edmonton, Alberta call center (and one very unhelpful woman in St. Louis). Poor souls - they never knew what hit 'em.

Comcast, you are a fat, stupid, dirty whore, and I hate you.

It's Craptastic!
Monday, June 04, 2007
First off, I'm sorry for my extended web absence. I'm sure all five of you were sorely disappointed with the lack of posting in the past week or so. My internet at home has been down - something about a weak signal, and boosting the signal, and waiting at home TWICE (once on a workday) for the technician to show up, etc. and so on, blah blah blah.

Once I get the internet back, I will bring my A-game - especially since Lawyerish gave me some linky-lovin, and I'd hate for her readers to come over here and see two random book quotes and a hastily written meme.

This weekend was a good one - the dog only pooped inside twice, which will probably be the thing I repeat aloud when I'm committed to the insane asylum of pet owners...Sean and I saw "Knocked Up," which was completely adorable (and the birth scene? Shocking but not terribly accurate, at least physiologically). Katherine Heigl has officially replaced Angelina Jolie as the only woman on earth with whom I would consider having sexual relations of any kind. She is far more approachable, and doesn't have all those bizarre tattoos.

Does the plural of "tattoo" need an "e" before the "s?" Anyone? Dan Quayle, any thoughts?

The NASCAR race at Dover was rained out, so that's no fun. Also, I've missed FOUR DAYS of my blogroll reading, and FOUR DAYS away from my web-based email. FOUR DAYS. I want my internet back.

Friday, June 01, 2007
In the battle being waged by men with jackleg drills against the fractured and folded metamorphic world of the underground, men frequently lost. Every man knew there was no guarantee he'd ever see daylight again.