7.10.05

Category: dribblings

leetle brather is still in the hospital. so keep praying.

dad came over this afternoon he was on his way home from “preparing” the Holy House for whatever is left of this hurricane business.
Monkey Hate Hurricanes.

anyway i told him about finding old radio dtuff on the internet and he was all, “let’s plug it in!”
and i was all, “are you kidding me? it’ll catch fire!”
and he was all, “nah, let’s see what happens.”
and i’m all, “it’s your funeral.”

so we took it into the kitchen (the room with the most light) to check out the insides again. and then he just plugs it into the wall socket. and then…nothing. because of course, it’s broken and we knew that. but a light did come on in the front where the tuner is, and all but one of the tubes got hot.

but the knob is missing so the only way to turn it on (and the volume up) is to touch the metal bolt that held the knob. and when dad went to turn the volume up it hummed. “yaaah!”
“whoa, dad. did you hear that?”
“yeah, i felt it too.”
“hee. here’s some pliers.”
“do they have rubber handles?”
“hee. yeah. are you okay?”
“yeah, it wasn’t that big of a jolt.”
“good. hey dad?”
“yeah?”
“do you suppose it’s a good idea to have the power cord run across the sink like that?”
“heh. well it’s not like the sink is full of water or running or anything.”
“yeah. i just don’t want to end up on one of those Vonage commercials.”
“well, it looks like we need a 3575 GT tube.”
“a dime a dozen i’m sure.”
“heh.”
“although…i wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Finlayson had one.”

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7.09.05

Category: dribblings

someone at the Holy House threw away an old radio and dad picked it up out of the trash thinking, “i’ll bet jaimie would like this.” so when i got there he was all, “hey, do you want this old radio?” and i said, “oh man! where’d you get that?! i can have it? really?”
so here i am with this very ugly RCA Victor tube radio.
i know.
tubes.

one word: bakelite

it’s a small table radio. “small”. hee. it doesn’t work, well…maybe it does, right? but i’m not plugging it in. no way. besides, one of the wires on the inside isn’t connected to anything and i can’t figure out where it needs to go.
i can tell it’s been worked on before. the power cord looks new, new as in from the ’60s. ha. i think the radio itself is from 1949, this i’ve gleaned from the internet. and i think some of the tubes have been changed out.
man, the inside of this thing is hilarious.
but i’m having the best time reading about old radios and tubes and superheterodyne receivers, which is short for supersonic heterodyne receivers. again, ha. old radio stuff is goofy.

i’d like to get the radio working, although i don’t know why. it’s AM. and it’s not very pretty. i guess it’s just one of those, “don’t tell ME i can’t fix it!” things, but also, i can’t fix it. mainly because i’m not willing to spend any money on it. because hello? dumb radio or food…this is not a hard choice.

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7.07.05

Category: dribblings

leetle brahther isn’t doing so well. he’s in the hospital again and is going to have more surgery. again.
so please put on your prayer hat and…well, pray.

just, whatever you do, don’t get bitter and start hating God or anything like that. ‘cos that never helps. i know you’re human, and you want to scream, “God! Are you even paying attention?! Can you not cut the kid a break like, ever? Now get off your ass and FIX IT because no one else can!”
Because that? is not a prayer. and it will only get you into trouble.

all the other stupid stuff i was going to write about kinda doesn’t seem as funny anymore.

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7.06.05

Category: dribblings

cookie magoo ruined The NeverEnding Story for me. i don’t blame cookie, i blame the story. i blame whoever came up with Moonchild. grrrr. what a crock.

uh muh gah! laura! remember how i bought this ipod last february? and i got it second hand? so there was already like 800 songs on it? and you know how i never listen to those songs because they’re all crap and CCM? WELL! i decided to delete some of these songs (finally, right? i mean, how lazy am i?) and guess what little “gem” i found on it…God’s Will.
i shit you not.
all this time!

laura blogged about 5 things you miss from childhood. so i will too, ‘cos i’m a copycat!
(in no order)
1. collecting baseball cards. i guess the thrill of opening a new package of cards and not knowing what you were going to get but hoping for a “good one” or at least one that was on your favorite team. in my case, the yankees. in buddy’s case, the cardinals. in justin’s case, the…orioles? what?

2. summer vacation! that was back when none of the moms worked and we’d spend all day in the pool with the fish kids and the faith kids and melfa.

3. sundays when dad would get off work in the morning (he worked 3rd shift for 30 years) and we’d make movies with the giant honking video camera.

4. playing in the woods! “woods”. exploring! and for some reason we crawled through the drainage pipes. it is a miracle that we are alive today. we should have died from broken necks and amoebic dysentery.

5. i miss the old MTV that used to play actual music videos instead of stupid shows about sex and pimping rides and idiots hitting themselves in the batch with hammers and fruit.

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7.05.05

Category: dribblings

it’s weird that cookie mentioned The NeverEnding Story, ‘cos i had a dream about the kid last night! no kidding. only he’s older now, so in my dream he looks like that kid only older, he even had a ponytail! and so i see him and i’m all, “hey, that’s the kid from The NeverEnding Storyyyyy, whoa oh oh…oh oh oh…oh oh oh oh…” so i decide to go over and say hi. so i walk over and he’s reading a book and i say, “hey, are you sure you wanna do that?”
and he’s all, “do what?”
and i’m all, “well, remember what happened last time you read a book?”
and he’s all, “ha ha, yeah. i gotcha.”
and then i’m all thinking, jaimie, you are such a douche when it comes to flirting. so i try to make up for my douchiness (spanish?) by saying, “i bet you get asked about whatever the hell it was you screamed at the end of that movie a lot.”
and he says, “yeah, the director told me to just yell out whatever. they had set up 2 or 3 helicopters outside the window that i screamed out of to provide the wind and drown out what i screamed.”
“really? that’s crazy. one of my friends watched it with subtitles just to see what was screamed, but all it said was *screaming*, boy, was she pissed.”
“yeah, i guess it was ambiguous.”
“you’re not going to tell me what you screamed are you?”
“the thing is…i can’t remember.”
“oh, you’re kidding.”
“no really. it was so long ago…and it didn’t seem important at the time.”
“wow, this has really been a let-down.”
“sorry.”
“no, no. i understand. so anyway, what are you reading?”
“a book about weather.”
“really?”
“yeah, hurricanes and stuff.”
“well, okay. see you around.” and i walked away thinking, “dang, liz would’ve killed to know what he screamed at the end of that movie.”

when i woke up the first thing thought was, “helicopters?!”
Dream Jaimie, you are an idiot!

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2005 50 Books I

Category: 50 Books, weekleez

25. Whisper of Evil by Kay Hooper
Finally, the last one. This one was about a small town, Psychic FBI agents, a serial killer, and of course the obvious love story plot. Geez, formula much? You know, for once Kay, I’d like to see one where the guy was psychic and the girl wasn’t. And also, I’d like the two main characters who are in love but not willing to admit it because of SOMETHING FROM THEIR HAUNTED PAST to be fat and ugly. I’M TIRED OF PERFECT-LOOKING PEOPLE. Make the dude a fat mouth breather and the chick have bad teeth and a big honking nose. Can I get a little reality in my contrived fiction please?

24. The Full Cleveland by Terry Reed
This was a novel. I thought it was going to be chicklit because of the cover art which featured quirky panted legs and shoes. Maybe it was chicklit but it wasn’t what I would consider chicklit. It was a coming of age story that blah blah blah. I hate when they say “coming of age story”. It’s about a girl in a big, rich catholic family and then they go broke at the end. But also, while reading the book I was thinking that the family wasn’t really as rich as they seemed to be, so it wasn’t that hard to guess what was going to happen, and even when it does happen the girl doesn’t act weird about it either.

It was okay. Had some really great sentences. But also? no. It wasn’t that good. What I mean is, it wasn’t written clearly. If I had turned that book in to one of my high school teachers or college professors they would have said, “Hey, this is a GREAT first draft. Just clarify these 900 parts for me, m’kay?”

I couldn’t tell when the book was supposed to be taking place…late ’60s…no, wait, mid-’70s? ’80s? Also, I hate not knowing what the main character looks like. I mean, yes, she mentioned she had a crew cut…but that’s for only a bit of the book and would it kill you to tell me what these people look like?! Everything was so vague and annoyingly so.

I was going to pass this one on to laura, but now I’m not because the last half of the book was blah.

23. FBIgirl: How I Learned to Crack My Father’s Code by Maura Conlon-McIvor
This was a memoir. And it was very good. It’s about this girl who grows up in California with her family in the ’60s and ’70s and her dad is an FBI agent. She loves her dad. Her dad though, seems a little weird to me. He rarely talks. I dunno. She would ask him a question and he wouldn’t acknowledge her. She was all, “Well, that’s my dad. I knew he was talking to me in code.” and I’m thinking, “No honey, he’s just an asshole.”

The girl reminds me of me. She was all into Nancy Drew and baseball and she would spy on people. Of course, for me it was Hardy Boys all the way.

It was a really sweet, sweet book. And look, there’s a website! www.fbigirl.com

You should read this book.

22. Hiding in the Shadows by Kay Hooper
CONTAINS SPOILERS THAT YOU NEED TO READ ABOUT SO YOU WON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE I DID.
I think I’m finally done with Kay Hooper. This one was “eh”. A lady wakes from a coma and she has amnesia. She tries to piece stuff together and people are trying to kill her for some reason and there’s a guy and they do it. And oh, the lady who she’s trying to find is dead. Let me say that again, THE LADY. WHO TALKS TO HER TELEPATHICALLY. IS DEAD. THE WHOLE TIME. SO DO NOT BE SURPRISED LIKE ME. BECAUSE LET ME TELL YOU. I FELT BETRAYED. Oh, and since I’ve spoiled that much for you let me just tell you the whole ending here, so that you won’t waste time reading this crap. THE DEAD LADY AND THE AMNESIAC SOMEHOW BECOME ONE. AS IN. TWO LADIES ENTER; ONE LADY LEAVES. BUT WAIT, THE LADY DOESN’T ACTUALLY BECOME LIKE TWO WOMEN IN THE HEAD BUT MORE LIKE A THIRD PERSON. SHE BECOMES THE TWO AND YET, NOT, SO SHE IS LIKE THE ANTITHESIS OF BOTH. HOW DOES SHE REALIZE THIS? BECAUSE SHE CAN’T PLAY PIANO ANYMORE. I REPEAT: SHE CAN’T PLAY PIANO ANYMORE. That was the most retarded thing I’ve read yet. Kay Hooper, you are dead to me now, you’re not a sister, not a friend. I don’t want to know you or what you do. I don’t want to see you at the hotels; I don’t want you near my house. When you see our mother, I want to know a day in advance, so I won’t be there. You understand?

Crap! There’s one more Kay Hooper book left. I don’t want to read it! Will Jaimie throw caution to the wind and NOT read the other book? Or will her OCD not allow her to leave a series incomplete? I bet you know the answer to that.
Shit.

21. Life Among the Savages by Shirley Jackson
I’ve read this one before, but it was a couple of years ago, and I had totally forgotten about some of the funniest parts. This is one of Ms. Jacksonifyou’renasty’s nonfiction books she wrote about raising her kids in the 1950s. It is such a funny book. Her kids are riots, and she tells a really good story. It’s way different than her horror novels and while reading it you’re thinking, “I can’t believe she wrote The Haunting of Hill House AND this.” I wish she would have written much more nonfiction stuff. Not that her fiction is bad, it’s great actually. You should read some. They’re very psychological.

Anyway, I’m rereading the second one, Raising Demons, but I probably won’t finish it this week as Laura has given me a couple of books to read. Yay! Books!

20. Out of the Shadows by, you guessed it, Kay Hooper
Shut. Up.
This time I finally find out just who the hell Bishop and Miranda are. They’ve had cameos in the other books, but never their own storyline. Of course, if I had started with the first book of the first series then I would know all about it. But why be all chronological? This way it’s like Quentin Tarantino is picking out the books for me. Or, something.

This one, like the last one…Stealing Shadows, I totally knew who did it as soon as the character was introduced. “He did it! I know it! I should just shut the book now. Save me some time.” But no, I finished it. Go ahead, quiz me.

19. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
I’m not sure if this book was good before or after Sylvia Plath killed herself. And I don’t think that any of her friends or family could’ve been surprised that she committed suicide. Unless they hadn’t read the book.

THE BESTSELLING NOVEL ABOUT A TALENTED YOUNG WOMAN WHO DESCENDS INTO MADNESS

Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. But the book is sort of autobiographical, right? So maybe people did know she would probably kill herself. Maybe they were tired of her always talking about killing herself. Because let me tell you, I was sick to death of the main character, the autobiographical one, always talking about suicide. Yes, it was the 1960s and they didn’t understand chemical imbalances so well. Yes, there are many ways to kill oneself. Yes, I see that you’ve thought of a ton of them. Yes, I even see that you’ve come pretty close to ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE NEARLY ALMOST KILLING YOURSELF NEVER. EITHER DO IT, OR GET HELP AND SHUT UP ABOUT IT. I NEED TO SEE SOME PROACTIVE BEHAVIOR YOU SPOILED LITTLE SHIT.

Which is why I’m not a counselor.

At the beginning she seemed kinda spoiled and all and then somewhere she kind of snaps and I’m not sure why. What was the breaking point exactly? Okay, I’ve changed my mind, yes, it was a good book, but no, I’ll never read it again.

I might watch the movie.

18. All New People by Anne Lamott
This book is pretty wonderful. The characters are so real. And she writes so well. There’s pain and humour and wonderful, wonderful sentences. I love great sentences. An example:

“I am living once again in the town where I grew up, having returned here several weeks ago in a state of dull torment for which the Germans probably have a word.”

Another exemplo:

“In a way I’ve never quite understood, the veil tore an inch for me that day, like it does every so often, when in the midst of all that is mundane and day-to-day, there’s suddenly a tiny tear in the veil, and you see the bigger and brighter thing, and then the veil repairs itself, and the day goes on as before.”

The book is filled with wonderful sentences.
It’s a short book, but it took me longer to read than I thought it would. In fact, I’ve read two of the Kay Hooper books in the time I’ve been reading All New People. But it’s not a difficult book to read. Not like V. by Thomas Pynchon that I’ve been trudging through since January. My God, how many characters can you shove in a book?

So, All New People. Read it.

17. Stealing Shadows by Kay Hooper
Yes. I know. Another damn Kay Hooper thriller. Shut up. This one wasn’t as good as Touch of Evil and Sense of Evil. But it was far better than those romances. Um lessee, premise….premise…there’s a psychic who works for the LAPD but then she gets one of her visions wrong and the killer gets away so she moves to some podunk town to live in an old house with her failure. But then! A serial killer starts killing serially in the podunk town! So she has to Face Her Demons From the Past and help the local police! And also, she falls in love! But wait! She’s so emotionally scarred from….from…something, that she Needs More Time! But then her new lover almost dies, then she almost dies and then she’s all, “hey i’m over it!” and he’s all, “great!” and she’s all, “i’m ready to get married now!” and he’s all, “yay!” and she’s all, “good thing, huh?” and by now he’s turned psychic (WHAT?!) and he can read her mind (NO!) and holy jesus in god, “you’re pregnant!”

It was actually a pretty good book until the last three chapters.

14., 15., 16. Enchanted by Kay Hooper
This is a shitty anthology of Ms. Hooper’s first three romance books. They are really bad. Her thriller stuff is like 9,000 times better. Even she knows this, because she has a disclaimer saying that she wrote these books when she was “a child”. Yes, Ms. Hooper, I believe that. However, that does not excuse your editor. All of the characters had to have strange names. I mean, could there not be a regular name like, Sam, Judy, Frodo? I mean, Donovan Knight?! Come on. Also, the word daunting was in the books more than once. More. Than. Once. And it was used in conversation. What? Look, if the setting had been Victorian England, then yes, sure, use daunting…use it more than once. But a book set in the present? And the characters use daunting in everyday vernacular? Is it just me here? No.

14. Kissed By Magic was by far the worst. It’s about a business woman that is tricked into falling in love with her secretary (a man. no girl-on-girl action. pity. it would have made the story much better i’m sure.) who just happens to be the son of a rich family, and he doesn’t even need a job he just wants to work for the lady. He tricks her into a working vacation and woos her and then she finds out that he’s been tricky about who he really is but then comes clean and she still loves him even though he’s a Great Big Lying Liar because now she knows he really loves her and it’s not just for her corporation since he’s already richer than she is.
What the fuck?
worst character name: Rebel Sinclair.

15. Belonging To Taylor was better than the first book because the characters were so witty and strange and funny.
worst name: Trevor King

16. Eye of the Beholder was dumb. It’s like, this lady moves into a new house and the first morning there’s a dude at her door and she opens the door and he says, “will you marry me?” and she’s all, “and who are you?” and he’s all, “who are you?!” and from there is just snowballs into disaster.
worst name: Devon York

They all have the exact same ending. They have sex. Then one of the characters is all, “I need more time.” and then two weeks later they get married and have kids.

I went and read the customer reviews for this book on amazon.com. They all said how great this book is and how “real” the characters are. Um. Kill me.

13. Touch of Evil by Kay Hooper
The Library had another one of her books in and so i snatched it up hoping it was the first one. I’m sure that it’s the second one, meaning, the one i haven’t read is the first one, and i’ll have then read them completely out of order. And I’m just anal retentive enough for that to bother me. However, it’s just books. If reading them out of order is the worst thing that happens this month then really, I’m quite blessed, huh?
I did not enjoy this one as much as Sense of Evil. I liked the characters better in that story than this one. Its the same premise, paranormal FBI agents work with police to find a crazy killer. This time the police sketch artist was also kinda ESP-ish. Which helps her sketch the baddies.
Anyway, kinda blah.

12. Pascal’s Wager by Nancy Rue
This book, like 8 and 9 I checked out because I liked the cover. (shut up!)
It’s a very good book. However, the ‘brary was very sneaky. You know how they put stickers on the spine to let you know it’s a mystery (magnifying glass), horror (skull), fantasy (unicorn), sci-fi (spaceship), or the newer Christian (a cross) book? This did not have a sticker on it so I figured it to be a regular fiction book. Not too fiction-y, no murders or ghosts. And the way the back of the book read it seemed like it was going to be more of a philosophical book.
Turns out, it was one of the Christian fiction type books. Those tricky Christians! However, it was really a good book. Sweet, even. I’d recommend it to the ladies. I mean, it’s not a tear jerker, but it’s not action packed either. A quick read, and it’s got some good “struggling with the idea of God” kinda thing. And it managed to not be cheesy at all. Bonus!
Plus no weird sex. In fact, no sex at all.

11. Sense of Evil by Kay Hooper
A friend of mine who constantly reads recommended this book to me saying, “If you like Patricia Cornwell you’ll love this.”
Well, I guess, if Scarpetta was a psychic FBI agent who worked with a bunch of other extra-sensory agents in a secret department of the FBI, and if she wasn’t a total cold bitch, well then yes. And also, no Pete Marino. Am I the only one who likes Marino?
Anyhoo. This book was good. Now, I’m not psychic or anything, but I have the sneaking suspicion that this is the third book in a series. Shit.
I hate when that happens.
This book did have much witty dialogue, and the characters never took themselves too seriously, which was also a plus. If the ‘brary has the other books in the series I’ll probably read them.

10. Shadows of Myth by Rachel Lee
This was a fantasy book that I checked out basically because I liked the cover. Look, I know. Seriously… I know. You are preachin’ to the choir.
I don’t read a lot of fantasy (or sci-fi) because I hate the parts where the author makes you learn about a whole new world with crazy politics, magic, and words that look strangely celtic-egyptian. This book wasn’t so bad but when I saw that the first page was a map i said, “Well, shit.”
Since I don’t read many of these books I’m not sure if the plot was cookie-cutter for the genre or not. However, the names of the characters were quite, um, I don’t know how to put it. I’ll let you decide:
Sara Deepwell
Bandylegs
Archer Blackcloak
Tess Birdsong
to name a few. I mean, hello? Deepwell? Is that her porn name?

9. Shadow Game by Christine Feehan
This was total pulp. I just needed something easy to read at the moment. I would not ever recommend this book to anyone who can read. The plot was about a military psi-ops group gone wrong and sex. Mostly sex. Psychic Dream Sex, Sex Sex, and Oral Sex. Also, Sex.
I blushed.
I thought to myself, “Who is this lady author with all the sex in her head anyway?” so i flipped to the back to see if she was brave enough to put a picture of herself on her Excuse To Write About Incredible Sex That Can Not Happen Ever or “book” as she probably calls it. And yes, there’s a picture. And oh my goodness, she looks like a sunday school teacher or something wholesome like that. because, you know, obviously.
It’s always the quiet ones.

8. Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott
This is Ms. Lamott’s sequel, if you will, to her other book Traveling Mercies. TM is probably in my top 10 favorite books. Plan B was pretty good. I love her honesty. She’s so real about things. I wish I could write like her. She has written several fiction books as well, but I like her nonfiction better. It’s similar to Shirley Jackson’s nonfiction about raising her kids (Raising Demons), only Ms. Lamott talks about God, spirituality, her frustration with G. W. Bush, as well as her son. You laugh, you cry, and then you laugh some more.

7. Ten Rings: My Championship Seasons by Yogi Berra and Dave Kaplan
I know what you are thinking. “Another Yogi book? Is he paying you?” No, silly. I love reading biographies of baseball players and the Mickey Mantle book I wanted to read was checked out so I opted for this newer Yogi book. It’s a pretty good book. Yogi was in 14 World Series in his 17 seasons as a Yankee. The Yankees won 10 of those 14 Series. He talks about each of those World Series and it’s kind of neat because he was the catcher so he was right in the middle of everything during the games. He also has 14 World Series records. 14! This really blew my mind. I mean, I knew he must’ve been a decent player, but I had no idea that he played in so many games. So if you’re ever on a game show and the question starts out, “Who holds the World Series record for…?” I’d just guess Yogi.
Unless the question ends with, “… pitching a perfect game?” Then the answer is Don Larsen (in 1956). And also, Yogi caught that game.

6. YOGI It Ain’t Over… by Yogi Berra and Tom Horton
Yogi Berra is one of my favorite baseball people. I say people and not player because Yogi was both a player and a manager (and even a coach). This book was an autobiography, and i prefer an autobio to a plain old bio. Why? I don’t know, they just seem better. I did enjoy this book. However, Yogi, you apologize too much in this book. Everytime you talk about someone you say, “I’m not putting him down.” or “I mean no disrespect.” to the nth degree. EVERYBODY KNOWS YOU’RE THE NICEST GUY IN THE WHOLE WORLD, OKAY? STOP BEING SO DAMN REDUNDANT AND JUST SAY WHAT YOU’RE SAYING.
hee.

In the book he points out that through the years many people (in the media) have called him dumb or stupid (liz). That is the saddest thing ever. I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re an awesome dude. And i think you’re doubly awesome for sticking it to George “douche bag” Steinbrenner.

5. Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, Book I: The Very Bad Beginning
Yes. A kid’s book. Shut up.
Okay, I know this is a popular series and all, but frankly, I just don’t see the charm. I do like that there’s lots of vocabulary lessons in the book, but I don’t like that the book is basically about child abuse. No, really. You want to write a kid’s book? Fine. You want to write a kid’s book about child abuse? Fine. Great even. But for the love, abuse is a serious thing, m’kay? And? AND? THE PART WHERE THE EVIL, GREEDY UNCLE TRIES TO MARRY THE 14 YEAR OLD ORPHAN GIRL?! EW! HELLO?! MR. SNICKET, WHAT IN THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? ALSO, KIDS ARE NOT IDIOTS, AND WE ALL GET THAT THE BABY LIKES TO BITE THINGS. YOU CAN STOP REITERATING THAT ANY TIME NOW.

Perhaps I was expecting too much from a kid’s book?

4. Granta issue 87 Jubilee
This issue had 3 stories in it that I loved.
1. Benjamin Pell Versus the Rest of the World by Tim Adams
2. part of a sceenplay for Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey by Martin Amis
3. The Brooklyn Follies by Paul Auster

The other stories were good. But those three stand out in my mind the most.

3. Who Is This Jesus? by Michael Green
“Oh Great,” you’re thinking, “another God book. How swell.”
I know. I should mix it up a bit, huh?
This book had some really great points, and it made me think about how I really should stop using the Lord’s name as a swear word. Because that name has power.
Then the book went into Jesus’s life. Which was interesting.
Then it went into a realm of crap that I thought was odd. The author is talking to people who are either not Christian or new Christians and one of his prayers that he suggests that they should pray starts out, “Jesus, if you are listening…”
Wha?
Dude, do you believe in God?
On a scale of 1 – 10, I give it a 4, and would not recommend it to new Christians or nonbelievers. Or if I did I would write out a HUGE disclaimer.
So there you go.

2. Are You Out There God? by Sr. Mary Rose McGready
This was another book Laura gave to me. I wasn’t going to read it because the title made it sound like a High School Teenage Drama Book, and I’m just not in a mood to read something like that. Ever. So I said to Laura, “What the? Is this some kind of High School Book or something?”
“What? No-”
“OH MY GOD! IT WAS WRITTEN BY A NUN!”
“I know. That’s why I thought you’d like to read it.”
“AWESOME! A NUN BOOK!”
I have a ‘thing’ for nuns. I just can’t get over how they’re married to Jesus, and how they pray the same prayers over and over times 10 to the bazillionth power.
Anyway, the book was really good. It’s basically these letters that this nun wrote to different people about the kids she meets at this rescue shelter she works at for homeless kids. It amazed me how this nun (and she’s old, like, i dunno, at the writing of the book (1996) she had been a nun for 50 years.) would have to deal with street kids, who were dirty and jaded and mean, and she would always describe them as tiny and brave and beautiful. She never said a mean thing about those kids. However, she did not have one nice thing to say about pimps (lots of the girls she delt with were teenage prostitutes). In fact, at one point she was talking about this pimp and she basically said, “I’m sorry God, I still hate him.” I thought it was cool that she was honest about her hate.

1. Sit, Walk, Stand by Watchman Nee
Laura gave me this book to read. It was a good book because it’s short (64 pages) and very much to the point. He kind of reminds me of Joyce Meyer in that they’re both “Here’s what you need to do; do it.” kind of people. Although when Joyce says it it’s more like, “Stop being an idiot and do what you’re supposed to do.” The premise of this book is basically Christians should first learn how to sit (or rest) with God. Then they should learn to walk (live a righteous life in Christ) with God, and finally they should learn to stand with God. The standing business pertains to spiritual warfare. All of this he gleans from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians
I kind of wish I had read this book 5 years ago.
Then again, I never would have read this book 5 years ago.

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6.27.05

Category: dribblings

i had a dream last night where robert motherwell asked to have sex with my ass. that’s what he said, “may i have sex with your ass?” this was after i had told him that his artwork was pornography.
here’s the really sad part.
i was actually referring to robert maplethorpe.

laura, motherwell was the one with the blotchy paintings.
d’oh! would you have known who i was talking about if i had said maplethorpe? probably. i’m a poophead. sorry.

***

do you know how hot it was today?
i only worked till 2pm ‘cos it was so hot. i drank 2.5 liters of water. that’s…that’s too much water.
ps. cookie magoo, when i say something about “that’s…that’s too many *blank*” i’m totally saying it in paulie’s voice from goodfellas where they’re in prison and that dude is cooking and henry’s voiceover says, “personally i always thought he used too many onions.” and you hear paulie say, “frankie? how many onions did you put in the sauce?”
and frankie says, “what. i used 3 small onions.”
and paulie says, “that’s…that’s too many onions.”

oh but lately, the one dad and i quote all the time? is karen, “hello? you should know that the woman who lives in room 214, janice rossi, is a whore!”

why that’s in my head i’ll never know. just think of all the useful things that could be in my head. like phone numbers or long division or something.

***

i must be livin’ right. i’ve been Margaret Free for over a week.

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6.25.05

Category: dribblings

toilet is fixed. i went to Marvin’s. i walked in and some lady was all, “can i help you?” and i thought eh, might as well ask. ‘cos i surely don’t know where anything is in that store.
“sure, i need…” what is it called? i can picture it in my head, but i don’t know what the actual name of it is. i just always call it Toilet Guts. oh well. “…um, Toilet Guts?”
“oh. Toilet Guts. uh…aisle 8.”
“thanks!”

***

i painted my living room walls this evening. i need to start in on the baseboards to get a head start on tomorrow, but oh, i’m really tired. i want to just lay down and sleep. SLEEEEEP!
crap. but you know as soon as i’m done with this i’m gonna go paint the baseboards.
stoopid fleegan.

***

there seems to be a party going on somewhere behind my house.

***

i taked to a prostitute today. she asked me where my dog went. i told her that the lady with the dog moved so she took the dog with her. she told me she really missed the dog. i told her that lots of people have told me they miss the dog.
“why don’t you get another dog?”
“…what?”
“yeah, that dog was so nice. she’d follow me along the fence.”
“it was a he.”
“so she took her when she moved?”
“he and yes.”
“does she have a fence?”
“he does indeed, have a fence.”
“well, i bet she doesn’t like it as much.”
no, i’m sure he misses all the crazy-assed people who live around my block. geez.

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6.23.05

Category: dribblings

before i would let myself go and have fun, i hired myself to paint the living room ceiling. so then came The Margaritas, and i figured that was like my way of paying myself. we had a successful Girl’s Night Out. we had three pitchers of margaritas. i had four glasses worth. and? and? i drove us home. so that tells you about how potent the margaritas were. the first one was a doozy, but the following ones i don’t think were quite as strong. i forget what i had for dinner. i know it was mexican. there was cheese. and beans.

mr. fleegan is still out with his Man Friends (not gay). they went bowling.

****

there is something i HAVE to tell you.
one of my good friends works for a utilities company. i’ll not tell you which one, or what his name is so that he won’t get in trouble. HE told ME that there is only ONE PERSON in the WHOLE WORLD that he’s not allowed to cut off this certain utility. do you know who that is?
Crazy Margaret.
why? because he did once, and she went to the office and was CRAZY MARGARET to them and so his prime directive was: DO NOT EVER CUT OFF THAT UTILITY EVER AGAIN NO MATTER WHAT.

so for those of you who thought i was exaggerating her craziness?
I’M NOT.

behold the power of crazy.

****

my toilet is leaking in the most ridiculous way i’ve ever seen. i mean, this is the strangest Toilet Drama i’ve ever had, well, not exactly. it could be tons worse. i’m not worried about it, yet. but my fear is that i’m going to have to get a new toilet, because the problem seems to be that the tank is too small and the guts are too long. so the lid doesn’t fit flush with the tank (hee, flush.). and so when i flush the toilet water shoots out of the lid of the tank. gah, i dunno.

what is it about something always being stupid?

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6.22.05

Category: dribblings

today West asked me if i liked the Beatles or Elvis. only choose one. i winced, glanced at liz, and said, “Elvis.”
West was a little shocked i think.
liz? was not. in fact, she said, “i knew that.”
“i know you knew that. so i didn’t lie and say the Beatles because that would have insulted your intelligence.”

i don’t know why i don’t like the Beatles so much. i mean, i can listen to them, i just don’t usually want to. now, before you write me off, know that i do appreciate them. oh, but i guess it doesn’t help that i’d rather listen to something goofy like the Beach Boys rather than the Beatles. i know it’s a sin. i should try to like the Beatles more, any self-respecting Music Lover would. i just can’t seem to enjoy their music.
i do like Eleanor Rigby. does that count?

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