Archive for October, 2008

Just Say No

Posted in No On 8 on October 27, 2008 by Nada

I love this freakin’ video. Wanda Sykes is hilarious. I want to see her live so bad. I will be first in line to buy tickets.

I was sent the vid by a friend, and when I originally viewed it, this stinking ad came up next to Wanda. So, I bit on the “Learn More” click through. The following is one of the sentences from ProtectMarriage.com.

”People can be sued for their personal beliefs if they refuse to accept gay marriage.”

WTF? Who is writing this shite? And what do they want to say? This sounds like, “Your car is vacationing on Mars and when it gets back it may have some disease that is going to infest most of Michigan, and oil will leak out your bum.” I’m really not following. Let’s break this thing into parts

1) People can be sued for their personal beliefs. Are you kidding me? This is Oakland. Take a number. Get in the back of the fucking line of the court system and wait behind the criminals accused of robbing the 7/11

2) If they refuse to accept gay marriage. This sounds like a credit card fraud. “We have refused to accept your gay marriage here at Nordstrom. Put down that marriage certificate and step away from it before we call store security.

As far as I can tell, it’s crazy talk. Crazy Talk with a capital C and a capital T. I have a NO on 8 sign in my yard and one in my window. I was a proud witness to my friends’ Diane and Ruth’s wedding June 16 of this year. It kills me every time I hear of a Yes on 8 rally in our immediate area where the angry people in the name of their “God” scream “faggots” and call people “nasty.” I moved here, running from small town prejudice of a different sort. In all honesty, in these last few weeks, I have been ashamed of what I have heard and seen from some of these people. I adore my friends. My friends love each and want to remain married. I refer to Diane and Ruth as Good Hearts because they are just that – people with good hearts, and these are the people some work so hard to legally separate. Why? They don’t work so hard to separate me from my husband. I believe this is what you call prejudice.

Kiss the Corpse

Posted in health on October 24, 2008 by Nada

Hubby’s great uncle died last week, and I really liked the great uncle. His death wasn’t unexpected as he had Lou Gehrig’s disease. The funeral was this week. The services have been going on for two days because he was Greek Orthodox. I’ve never been to one of those services. There’s a lot of incense and chanting. They also had something called a Mercy Meal, which included food. That was pretty good. The one part of the deal that was not so good was the part where they lined up last night to kiss the corpse in the coffin. Now, I loved the old man as much or more than anybody in that church, but that dead body they had up there in that titanium casket with the jaws clipped shut was nothing more than just that – a dead body. I didn’t line up, and I didn’t kiss it.

For the record, I don’t have anything against smooching and smooching slightly weird things. I kiss my dog all the time, and sometimes the little imp sneaks in a French kiss. She’s been known to be fond of the cat poo hor d’oeuvres too. I still kiss her, but a cadaver. Nopes.

Today the Father Friar starts the service by whipping out a headband, placing it on the dead uncle and talking about how important it is that everyone kiss the dead guy. He looks right at me and pulls the pregnant pause out of his big monk sleeve and holds it above his head and waits. Everyone in the church see the pregnant pause, knows all about it and turns to stare at me. “KISS THE DEAD UNCLE,” they all think. It has something to do with saying good-bye and yadda yadda about our sins and his, or something. But ya know. It really doesn’t. I said good-bye to the uncle when he was alive, the last time I saw him. I made my peace with him. All that they are kissing is dead cells full of embalming fluid. His spirit is gone.

So, at the end of the service today, the church lined up and planted one on him. They waited a bit on me until they figured out I didn’t buy into the program. Afterwards, a few of them asked me what religion I was. I think they wanted to know what sort of programming would stop me from doing such a thing as specifically instructed by their Supreme Religiousness. I told them I was an “Accidental Buddhist.” That statement blew straight over the heads of the questioners so they continued and asked what church I belonged to. I told them, “None. I affiliate myself with the church on the corner by my house. It’s my favorite church, but I don’t belong.” That got rid of most of them, except one 88 year old lady who totally got it and said, “Perhaps you would like to join our church.” I laughed at the thought at me chanting and kissing corpses. I tried to change the subject and told the remarkably fit lady she had the body of dancer. As it turned out, she had been.

Tomorrow, Father Friar, or whatever his holiness’s title is, is supposed to come to the uncle and aunt’s house and help us load the truck with the aunt’s furnishings. The 94 year old aunt is leaving and moving South to be near her children. It is the end of something. I’m not sure what. The uncle’s life. Part of my life. I’m hoping His Holiness in Charge of Cadaver Kissing doesn’t show because if I hear one peep out of him about the kissing, I know myself well enough to know there’s going to be an F-bomb dropped on his foot in the garage by the tool bin. As part of the bereaved family, I feel it is my prerogative, kind of like sitting on the front row while they lower the casket into the ground.

Illness

Posted in she-it on October 20, 2008 by Nada

I got the flu shot and about a week afterward, I got the flu, which is not half as bad as what happened to my brother. He went to see his son, the marine, at his base. My brother went to some crab shack near his son’s base, ate a crab and got food poisoning. He barfed on the side of the interstate on his way home. I remember my brother vomiting only about 2 times when we were kids. Once was when his appendix burst and the other time was something about as dramatic. I think he had drunk about 5 quarts of whiskey. My brother does not vomit. His stomach is not built like way. He eats food and retains it no matter what.

That crab must have been all shades of rancid. He told me today he was calling up a Buick on the side of the road. No one can ever forget the sound of my brother regurgitating once you have heard it. If we want to win the war in Iraq, we could record the noise and fly some low level planes over enemy territory with the recorders on playback. Even his wife said the noise was surreal. I’m not sure she’d heard the noise before because like I said it is a rare and unusual occurrence. I don’t know how long they’ve been married because I have NO concept of time. My brother’s wife is known as The Time Keeper. I have to ask her about all time related issues such as, “When did MY dad die?” or ‘When did MY Mom die?” or “How old is MY husband?” I think every family has a Time Keeper. Ours is my brother’s wife. I’ll ask her next time I talk to her how long she has been married to my brother. She’ll probably say a bazillion years. Then she will probably say this is the only time she ever heard my brother, her hubby, barf.

My brother seems fully recovered from his food poisoning with one bionic burst. That is always the way with him. I wish I could eject my flu like that. One cough that would clear the street of people. Instead, this flu has lingered already for 2 weeks and now sunk into my chest with a wheezing cough, that scares me. I convinced myself this afternoon I had liver cancer and I needed a pet scan, surgery and probably chemo. I did all this while I was vacuuming. I decided I probably only had 6 months to live, so why finish vacuuming. There was no point. I’m sure you can see where that was leading. I sat down and ate a couple of brownies instead and a half a bag of cough drops, 2 Diet Cokes and 3 of those San Pellegrinos Araniciatas. I felt like crap and ate crap to make myself feel better. It sort of works. Perhaps only in my mind. Cough. Cough.

Sear’s Crisper

Posted in she-it on October 17, 2008 by Nada

I ordered a replacement crisper for my Kenmore refrigerator because mine broke. See the comment’s discussion about the cheap shit on stoopid appliances and other cheap shit. How does this happen? Lettuce ain’t all that heavy, folks. The replacement crisper was $113.85 with tax and shipping. Yeah, that’s right. $113.85 for a plastic bin that does not include its plastic face. That was extra. I waved that off because I am cheap and I’m gonna rip the other one off the old crisper and use it.

The new crisper came today and it was broken. Broken in the box. WTF, Sears? And that means WHAT THE FUCK? That new crisper is even more poorly made than the one that came with the refrigerator AND it had one lame piece of paper twirled around in a circle which I guess was the packing material? Weird. Or queer as we used to say back in the day before it meant gay. And it had some bong marks on it like it was used. USED. Scrape marks too. And the grossest thing. Dried food was stuck on it. I don’t get that part. Did someone return it and Sears box it up and send this nasty broken thing to me? Did they think I wanted it? I scrubbed the food off because it was just too gacky gross. Then I stopped and called Sears 800 number. The scrape and bong marks would not come off. And the cracked part was simply cracked. Go Sears. Go to hell.

Twang, et al

Posted in whatevah on October 17, 2008 by Nada

The people I talk to the most are my husband, my brother and my cousin. The latter two live in the South. For the record, I have not lived there in the last 20 years. At least. Probably more like 25. But when I keep recharging the accent by talking to my kin on my cell phone, it’s hard to lose the accent. I caught myself saying “dia-beet-as” today instead of “diabetes.” It rolled out my mouth, as natural as could be. Then one of the other volunteers at the hospital, Yoo Jin, asked me where I was from. I told her, “Oakland.”

She said, “No, I mean originally.” That kind of shit.

I got in the cross hairs of a corpse going through the hallway on a gurney too. It was weird in the aspect that no one stopped walking but me. I stopped from time to time because I was behind the gurney. Granted, I have not lived in the South since…well…see paragraph above…but you pay your respects to the dead. You don’t walk up beside them and you don’t walk when they are being wheeled by you on a gurney. You stop and bow your head. Damn it. I got a good look from behind and the corpse was in a maroon velvet bag. Kind of like a big dead Crown Royal or something. The guy loaded him on an elevator – the old kind with the squeaky expanding metal door. Then they were gone. I suppose to a mortuary. I wondered if they would have a supper for the family. If someone would bring over those small chess pies. If they would sit around and tell stories. If people would cry. Then I remembered, this was California and I tried to quit thinking with a Southern accent. They’d probably take the body off somewhere and cremate the mess.

The Thief

Posted in animal on October 15, 2008 by Nada

Drama Queen

Posted in animal on October 15, 2008 by Nada