Archive for December, 2009

Pub Away

Posted in general weirdness, health, life, writing class on December 29, 2009 by Nada

I’m all proud of myself. I got something published in the East Bay Monthly under my pseudonym Wichita Sims. Of course, it’s about my freakin’ brain tumor. Might as well pimp out that catastrophe for something.


The Eats

Posted in food, general weirdness on December 27, 2009 by Nada

My husband is snoring like a freight train. He’s so loud, I got up from my computer desk here where I was doing some serious business like looking at dog pictures, peeled him a Breathe Right strip, and handed it to his sleepy self, so he could stick it on the bridge of his nose. I suspect he must have stuck it on his arse because he’s still in the bedroom snoring like a runaway freight train and would have continued all night, except for the fact the little dog got something caught in her throat and made a noise like a flock of geese looking for their mates. The little dog successfully once again derails the freight train and then, promptly trots out the dog door mission accomplished.

When Hubby is not unconscious, he is a great cook, specializing in meats. Don’t ask me to name the butt rump wing shoulder pieces he is cooking because I can’t. My job is to eat, and I’m an expert at that. Today, Hubby decided to make his own Boston Baked Beans. And this is the part I can’t comprehend. I can buy baked beans in a can for $2.59. Hubby’s baked beans cooked for 6 hours, and the oven heated up the whole house so bad we had to open up all the windows. I asked him what was going on. He said he had a recipe he had to try, and he said that like a woman. A 6’ 5” woman with a beard. I bet today’s gas bill exceeds a whole month’s worth, and if it does, I’m gonna call the gas company and tell them we had a leak. It’s fixed, but there was a leak. In the oven. With some beans.

We had the beans for dinner, and this is the other part I don’t get. The pork chop was to die for, but the beans were hard nuggets of molasses. How does anyone do that? I can ask that and not be rhetorical because I really have no idea. I can’t even turn the stove on, or is that thing an oven? Anyway, I put most of them in a Tupperware container for “later,” which might be code for “let the green mold grow on ‘em.” He finished the dinner by asking me if I liked his beans. I told him, “They were salty.” He told me that he liked them and was going to eat them again. We’ll see. I’m gonna keep my ear to the ground and see if I hear that garbage disposal grinding suspiciously.

And here, I’m going to end up with a very sad picture. It’s the inside of my frig. I have some sort of sleepwalking/eating disorder, that’s an ice cream killer. I get up in the night, get the Rocky Road ice cream out of the freezer, eat some of it and then put it back in the refrigerator. Happens 9 times out of 10 we have Rocky Road ice cream from Lourdes. Sad. Very sad. The soup Rocky Road goes down the disposal too.

Jack Interrogates Santa

Posted in general weirdness, YouTube on December 20, 2009 by Nada


Posted in hospital, Oakland on December 20, 2009 by Nada

There’s some new graffiti in the left stall of the women’s restroom on the main floor at Highland Hospital. It reads, “Thy will be done.” I stare at it when I’m taking a whiz. It’s not the usual graffiti in the bathroom, and I wonder what they are talking about. Highland? The ER? Death? Christmas? A bowel movement?

Saturday, as I was walking down the hill by the hospital, a police car rolled into the emergency room parking lot, joining the other three already parked there. The female cop barely got her car turned off before she was running for the automatic doors. Four cop cars is a good indication some shooting spree was resolving itself inside the ER.

A. C. and his Rent

Posted in Oakland on December 16, 2009 by Nada

I was waiting on the crazy 57 bus down in the burg today. It was misting rain, and I had been hiding under the bus shelter, but so was everyone else. It was all too close for comfort. I decided I’d rather stand in the mist with my hood up, as if that would protect my whole body from the drizzle. I kept willing the bus to come down the street, but instead, A.C., the homeless drunk guy, showed up. I asked him if I could take a picture of him.

“What’d you want to do that for?” he asked.

“In case you disappear,” I said. “I can show the cops.” He laughed and posed. I took two shots. After I was finished I asked him, “How come you’re not asking me for money?”

“You know why,” he said, turning to walk off.

“You’re gonna go buy booze,” I said.

“It ain’t booze,” he said. “It’s beer.”

He was already drunk, but sober enough to know I wouldn’t give him cash to buy liquor. I walked with him a few feet, keeping one eye on the street for my MIA bus. A.C. looked cleaner that usual.

“You got a place to stay?” I asked.

He stopped walking and leaned on his cane. “O’er on 78th, or 87th,” he said.

“You like it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I gots to pay money for this room,” he said.

“What kind of room?”

“A room to sleep in,” he continued. “But they want my check.”

“Yeah, that’s called rent,” I said.

A.C. laughed really hard at that, and he walked on down the street toward the corner market.

Nighty Night Tiny Might

Posted in animal on December 8, 2009 by Nada

Christmas and the Swimming Pool

Posted in general weirdness, life on December 6, 2009 by Nada

I hate Christmas. Call me Scrooge. Though I do enjoy the lights on the palm trees at the Mormon Temple.I wish they’d hang some off the big white marble Jesus, maybe from his hands like strings as if he were doing a cat’s cradle.

The rain is here. It’s plinking on the house as I type. It’s supposed to rain the better part of this week. Bah humbug again.

I went swimming today. I remarked to my friend that the swimmers are either totally normal or whacked out. There’s no in betweeners. #1 Crazy talks about her cat all the time. She got a ticket from a park ranger for not having her cat on a leash. While she was swimming Friday, she said she took her cat to see the Christmas lights at the Mormon Temple. I’m not sure whom she was talking to. She was making announcements as she paddled around in circles at the 5 foot demarcation. She said the cat freaked out. I can see that. Lots of lights. Many Mormons. Large white statue of Jesus. Kind of freaks me out.

#2 Crazy is a white haired lady about the size of a barn door. She fancies herself the pool police. She orders everyone around. We have a lift at the pool that lowers people into the slow swim lane. She told me a month ago to leave the lift in the water for her. The lifeguard told me otherwise – “Leave the lift at the surface. Leaving it in the pool, erodes the mechanism.” Right-o. Today, #2 Crazy sees me paddling around and said, “Put the lift back in the water after you get out.” I told her she had to take that up with the lifeguard. She repeated herself, so I said, “Ain’t doing it. I’m not defying the lifeguards.” She bobbed off on her floaty noodle to contemplate my noncompliance. After a few minutes, a swimmer joined us in the slow lane. I heard her tell him, “Get out of this lane. You’re too fast.”

#3 Crazy is a bearded guy who is a former (or current) meth addict, and the bad part, the really bad part, is he has a bit of a crush on either me or my swimming buddy. My swimming buddy made the mistake of wishing him, “Happy Holidays.” That triggered a 10 minute speech of Obama’s war lording, ending with “We all need health care reform, but they will see to it that we don’t get it.” I couldn’t decide if he was for Obama or against him or if it was all just crazy talk.