A Bit Of Mea Culpa Bidnezz...

Apparently I have an enormous bounce rate.

No, I'm not referring to the ample, unintended movements of my middle-aged boobies or buttocks although they tend to shake their groove thang without any help from me.

Rather this here Bloggie-Blog Posty-Post (that's its white-girl rap name..word) has a viewer bounce rate of like...1000%. Okay more like 79-80% which from what I gather might as well be 1000%. I'm just a Cave Woman ignorant of the laws, physics and voodoo of the computer sphere, but even I know having the interweb block perspective readers from viewing these ramblings is a bad thing... even if the Internet is doing it for your own good.

Anywho, I'll get my crack IT staff, namely my computer genius 12-year-old nephew to work his magic and see what's what. That is if we can tunnel out of this freaking so-called winter wonderland crap before his birthday in April.

But that's a tale for another post...or three.

In Which It Has Been A Difficult Couple Of Days

And, no. I'm not talking about the ginormous snow storm. I will talk about it... at length and peppered with the usual amount of hyperbole thrown in for added effect at a later date.

But not today.

In the midst of the madness on Sunday came a call. You know the one. The one in which you know something is very, very wrong.

One of my coworkers whom we referred to as Big Paul, passed away. He had a heart attack after shoveling two feet of snow from the remainder of his driveway. I had just taken over the reigns of Master Control from him that morning. He was perfectly fine. His usual acerbic self, regaling me with the unorthodox conversation he had with our new News Director who fortunately has an outstanding sense of humor as well as a healthy perspective about what is and is not worthy of fretting over.

I never thought that would be the final conversation I'd ever have with him. I am in complete shock.

Paul has not always been the easiest person with whom to get along, but his crusty exterior masked a soft heart and considerate soul. And boy did he love his son, affectionately referred to as his "little man". He and Jonathan were extremely close. Jonathan is a Freshman in college living on campus. I can't imagine how devastated he is. It breaks my heart.

Then my boss's Mom had a heart attack and died while he was talking to her on the phone at the same time another co-worker was rushing his wife to the hospital. And if that isn't enough awfulness, I found out a dear former employee's husband was hit head-on Saturday night landing him in the ICU for the next week or so. Thankfully his injuries are not life threatening.

Life is so fragile...

It can change in a matter of hours, minutes, seconds. It's so easy to take life for granted, and then it's gone... Bombarded with all this sadness and loss, I can tell you I held onto my Geo a little tighter last night.

It has been a really rough couple of days. Enough. Enough already.

Friday Photo #37

or this is why he used to be dinner...

Okay, so Tuesday was Ground Hog's Day, my favorite weirdo American tradition of all time. 20,000 sober and not-so-sober crazies gather in the middle of freaking nowhere, namely Punxsutawney and wait for hours in the bitter cold for a group of tuxedoed, top-hatted doofuses known as the "Inner Circle" to yank a nestling hog from his comfy hole in order to predict whether there will be six more weeks of winter or not. (and yes, that does sound dirty)

Many years ago I was one of those sober crazies standing around the Knob, freezing my make believe man-marbles off waiting for the Hog Extraction. I have to admit...it was fun. Like Antarctica cold, but fun.

Anywho, I was going to post this photo on Tuesday, but the little bastard saw his shadow. (SURPRISE! not!) and I was a little bummed. As you may know, the last few years I've grown to absolutely despise winter.

Then Wednesday came and went, plus I was more than a little fecal-faced from the monthly wine tasting...then it was Thursday and I was moving a little slowly--okay a lot slowly--what with the one Greyhound+four glasses of primo French wine+morsel of fine foods+resulting double vision from the prior evening's consumption ...

So now it's Friday and what the Hell... it's my photo of the week, because I'm lazy. Don't judge. It's not attractive.

I will leave you with this. Long ago when this whole zany annual prognosticating tradition started, the men of the coveted Inner Circle would let Phil (that's his name) do his little shadow puppet prediction... and then serve him up for dinner.

Yeah. They would eat him. I think they were on to something there. Seriously. Perhaps some old practices should be revisited. Just saying.

These awfully grainy pictures were shot from the monitor at work using my phone. It kinda adds to the grossness of the outcome. Plus what is up with that Dude? He's getting way to personal with the hog. (that's what she said!)

This last one is for my sister, Weezy who is a lover of all things Troy Polamalu. It's from an upcoming Super Bowl commercial. I don't think any of us would mind hearing bad news from his mug. Enjoy, Sis!

One Incredible Night of Music... In Our House!

or OMG! That's Francis Dunnery playing in our dining room!

Okay, so last night one of our favorite musicians performed... in our dining room!!

Seriously!!! Dude, I'm not kidding. He played in our HOUSE!

A bit of background:

Geo and I will be celebrating 25 years married next month. For a while now we've been trying to figure out how to mark this momentous milestone. Do we go away? If so, where? Do we have a party? If so, when? Do we sit on the couch, scratch our respective asses, eat junk food, watch the telly and burp really loudly? If so... WTF? That's just any old Tuesday.

Then Geo had the proverbial light-bulb-over-the-head, AHAH! moment and threw out the whole hosting a Francis Dunnery house concert idea. Brilliant!

We have been on the perspective hosting list ever since he started performing in people's homes exclusively about five years ago, but we never bit because of the cost and lack of substantial space in our tiny home. But this time we said, what the ef? Screw the spacial constraints. Let's do it!

And so we did.

And it was FAN-F*CKING-TASTIC!!!

So worth the few hours of testiness and snarking between me and Geo leading up to the evening's events. All you marrieds out there know what I'm talking about.

Most of our guests had arrived by the time Francis and Erica pulled in the driveway. We ushered them upstairs to our bedroom for a bit of private time before the show. The first thing Francis did when he walked into our room was say, "Right. Well first things first, I'm jumping on this." No, he wasn't talking about leaping on the bed. He grabbed my mallets and started banging out a tune on my steel pan. He hadn't even taken his coat off yet. And here's the sickening thing: even though he had no idea how to play the drum... he still was able to put out a tune much more melodic and rythmic than anything I could have done.

Amazing. Musicians. They really rock... at everything.

We spent the next 30 minutes or so chatting about anything and everything... from the set list for the evening (we got to choose the songs he played) to his child custody issues to astrology to their house in the Poconos to the marvels of iPhone apps to touring baseball fields this summer.

It was unbelievable. Francis. In our bedroom. Talking and laughing like we've been friends for years.

Then the show started and it was truly magical. Our friends, most of whom had never heard of him or his music, became enchanted by his talent, uplifting musical message and his humor. We had chosen the Astrology Show which means he goes through the zodiac signs and explains their characteristics to the corresponding audience members between songs. It was a blast. Lots of laughs and more than one or two insights. He played with our friends and they responded in kind.

A good time was definitely had by all. His irrepressible charm had worked it's magic. By the end of the evening, most of the folks in the room were Francis converts vowing to catch him perform again. Afterwards, Francis mingled with the crowd, chatting, signing autographs, graciously posing for photos.

And to top it off, Mr. D really dug my chicken curry. He even wanted the recipe. For any of you who have English friends, you know the Brits are connoisseurs of curry... so HUGE compliment there, which made the Italian in me very, very happy indeed.

We could not have asked for a more memorable means by which to mark our milestone. We are still grinning from ear to ear thinking about it all. His beaming brilliance definitely took the chill off of a bitter winter night.

So a big, fat, Burgh bear hug of thanks goes out to Francis and Erica for giving us a memory that will last our lifetime. It has been a pleasure and privilege getting to know you over the last couple decades. Here's to many more gatherings spent together.

Not a bad start to 2010. Not bad at all.

Friday Photo #36

WTF? CLOWNS!?!??!!! For my Birthday?!?

Okay, so like many establishments, a local South Side restaurant partakes in one of those ubiquitous rewards programs in which you eat there for like 20 years in order to receive ten bucks off of your dinner. It's kinda annoying, so naturally I signed up. And naturally I always forget my card. At this rate, I'll be well into my Zombie, post-death years before I see any kind of pay off. Mmmmm... brains... Whatev.

Anywho, they sent me a coupon for a free birthday dinner. Sweet, right? No. Not sweet. The dill weeds put a freaking clown on the card!?

A CLOWN! To me!

WTF?! And I couldn't even cut the bastard off the card because the coupon was positioned BEHIND his disgusting fat-ole-creepy-painted-John Wayne Gacy-pedophile mug.

What were they thinking? Seriously. It's like they don't even know me.

Staring The Scary Age Monster Square In The Face

or a juvenile joins the ranks of adulthood

*snort* NOT!

Okay, so today is the anniversary of my birth. To be specific, it is the 50th anniversary of my birth. I know, right? Crazy. Me? She of the 12 year old boy potty humor... 50!?!

Fortunately I had the help of my wonderfully whack friends and work mates to help usher me across the enemy decade line to the land of AARP discounts, early bird dinners and the perpetual left turn signal in style and sophistication.

Ah, screw it. If you can't laugh at yourself and enjoy being an idiot...what's the point, right?

The day all started with cawffee at Heather's

And ended with cake

Holy Crap! Is that a big enough piece of cake, or what?! Seriously.

Forthwith is a small pictorial of the random crap that happened in between:

The Morning Gang (just how many TV types can you jam into a viewfinder?)

Abusing the visage of my dear KJo

A plethora of platitudes and aging attitudes

some of my work partners in immature crime

Fun with our Mascot, Todd the Frog *slurp* (please don't call PETA. he likes it, I swear.)

Me and my old college chum, Martan, smashing faces. I don't know why. It's what we do.

Su-Su-Sushi!!

After all the abuse, Todd the Frog has a well-earned cocktail

You just knew SOMEONE was going to be a smart ass

Shrimp got your tongue? (see how mature aging has made me)

"I crush your head"

a portrait of a self-portrait

How about a little bromance, Scarecrow?

Shakin' their groove thang for the "Spotlight" dance

CAKE...on a steeeeck!!! Nom Nom Nom

The entire motley crew of near-do-wells

Now pay the bill and get the Hell out, Round Eye

Thus ends the irreverent beginnings to a new decade. I could not think of a better way to celebrate my Large Marge birthday than surrounded by these folks. The only thing missing from the frivolity was my Geo.

So to all my friends, family and assorted associates...thank you from the bottom of my restless heart for your well wishes, your love, your support, your hugs and your irrepressible immaturity that makes my world go round. Life would be oh-so dull without you all. (Dude...that rhymes!)

Special thanks to Beets for managing the madness.

You guys ROCK!! I love you, Man!

What Would Pope Benedict Tweet?

or the Popester... embracing social media?!?

Okay, so I think the Apocalypse is nigh. Seriously.

The Pope put out a statement to priests that they must now start blogging and Facebooking to connect with the younger types, as reported in the uber-hip, trend-citing site, Mashable.

http://mashable.com/2010/01/24/pope-priests-blog/

No word as to when the Pontiff will open his own Twitter account--I think WWJT (What Would Jesus Tweet) would be a sweet handle for him or maybe PBPopeyPope--but I look forward to the day Ole Benny XVI sports a "Which Mad Men Character Are You?" Avatar.

They're also looking into developing Catholic-specific, "Get Into Heaven Free" iPhone Apps. Social Media fueled Religion. Bizarro World, man.

"Need to work off some indulgences? Yeah... We got an App for that."