A library visit more intense than Rush Limbaugh doing... anything. No, really. Imagine that guy brushing his teeth.

Just renewed my library card. Super stoked.

"Books like my rims, yo."

I'll get back to you on what that means exactly (but you can still marvel at how cool it sounds).

Funny thing happened, though, when I was renewing my card:

I was still in the system.  From seven years ago.

"I'm still in the system?  It's really been about seven or eight years since my last visit."
"That is a bit funny.  Hm.  Usually people only stay in our system for about a year after their card expires."
"Guess you guys thought I'd be back, huh?"

Then, suddenly, the scene changed.  A quiet calm came across the librarian and the dewey Chicago atmosphere (No, it's not an outdoor library.  Just go with it).  It became less "exactly what you think of when you think of library" to "serenity before game-changing bomb-drop."

(Reader - Breathe.  In and out.  I know this is intense.  I have, what you would call, a Mastery in Forshadowfication.  Just bear with me for a little longer.  Remember... breathe.)

The librarian's gaze into the computer became much less "squinty" and way more "Ohhhhhhhhhhh."  I could tell she had our answer.  Time stopped.  The minute hand on the clock started to turn counter-clockwise. 

Or in this case, since we're already talking about a clock... It started to turn counter-wise.

The librarian's mouth started to open, and... Words.  Came.  Out.

"You have an outstanding fee of $3.35."

Bomb, officially dropped.

I fumbled for the correct response.

"Oh, uhh.  Yeah... lemme get that."
"Sure."

A bit of awkward time passed while she was transacting my transaction and renewing my card and gazing.  She then gave me my new card, along with the extra-useful keychain attachment.

I said "Thanks," and started to walk towards the door.  But instead of opening that very same door, I turned and asked an utterly important question:

"This doesn't go on my credit report does it?"
"Oh?  Haha."

I guess I wasn't being taken seriously.

"No, I'm serious."
"I'm really not sure."

Damn it.

In related news, I'm the new poster boy for FreeCreditReport.com.

Damn it.

A new project.

In 1996, my grandpa wrote a book about his troubles and hardships as a Ukrainian and as a soldier in the Second World War.  His name is Stephen Fedenko, and the book is written in Ukrainian.

My Ukie has never been good enough to actually read the book, but since I've recently found a passion for writing, I gave it another try.  After reading a few pages, I gave up.  It would take me weeks to read it, and unfortunately I don't have a firm enough grasp on the traditional Ukrainian language to absorb everything the book could offer.

I brought this up to my dad, and within seconds we found my solution:

I should translate the book.

On Saturday, my dad and I are driving to Detroit to pick up my grandpa's computer.  Now you may be thinking, "Hey idiot, get gramps to email the book or put it on a disk.  Duh.  Idiot."  Well, this leads me into obstacle number one:

It's stored on one of these...

Talk about old school.  Should be fun trying to move the file over to a computer that didn't experience the Bush, Sr. administration.

After we transfer it over to a working machine, my dad and I are going to write a computer program that will give us a rough English translation.

Then, obstacle number two:

I write.

Nicorette.

Muhh.
Plegh.
Uhhh.
(vomit)
Ugh.
...
Still want a cigarette.

13 days since I've quit.

I'll take a seat at the bar, thank you.

I'm having a breakfast of champions.  While I read Vonnegut's "Breakfast of Champions."  A "Denver Omlette," they call it, here at Mac's.  Golden eggs, tough ham, and watery crisps of peppers and onions.  Side a browns a course.

I'm mid-chapter 21.  Kilgore's set to meet Dwayne Hoover, previously Dwayne Hoober, flipped for his race.  He's also set to meet his creator - lowercase, for it's Kurt, not God.

Funny, because kids won't even capitalize the beginning of sentences nowadays, more or less what's important to them.

Oh?  Carla snuck American cheese into my omlette.  That dog...

Butt-end-ingly, coffee washes all of it down and delivers a caffiene surge through my veins.  It's time to start my american Day.

Idiot.

This guy is truly an idiot.  Just completely dumb.


Najibullah Zazi, a 24 year old now-alleged terrorist, was arrested this week because of suspicious activity pointing to his potential dealings with terrorism.  This suspicious activity was buying massive amounts of beauty products at Denver-area stores.


C'mon guy.


Airports around the world have a rule saying that a person cannot bring any containers of liquid greater than 4 oz. on a plane.  Do you know why they have that rule?  Because massive amounts of liquid = potential for an explosive device. 

I'm assuming he knew this, so what made him think that he could get away with buying 784 bottles of Head & Shoulders?


Now I put "assuming" in italics, because I may be putting too much faith in his potential cognition.  I say this, because when asked why he was buying such a large amount of beauty supplies, he told the clerk that they were for "his many girlfriends."  Very believable, Mr. Zazi.

I commend the clerk for realizing that this dummy was more than just ridiculous.  He was a ridiculous terrorist.

So keep your eyes open people.  That guy buying the remote trigger for his Rube Goldberg-buttered-toast-in-78-steps-machine may not be who he says he is.

"The Outdated Nextel Intercom Noise Text of the Week" Thursday, October 1, 2009 Edition

This is a new section of my blog called "The Outdated Nextel Intercom Noise Text of the Week."  I'll be posting text messages that I feel truly embody the essence of life.  It's brought to you by that silly intercom deal that Nextel came out with circa 1999 that everybody had in high school.  I was never cool enough to get one.  I tear.  Unfortunately, I got stuck with the Nokia Brick (big ups to the Snake game for almost making it up to me).  Here goes:

Anonymous Person 1:  "Hold on.  I'll call you shortly. (that's my nice, secretary voice)."
Anonymous Person 2:  "Vvvrrrrtt.  (that's my penis, elongating into shaft-mode)"

You should really hear her secretary voice.

Really? You're gonna do that? You're gonna act like that?

[for the brand new, already chart-topping hit "I Will Survive (a near-death experience at a Chicago Fire game)", scroll halfway down the post]

My recent release back into society has been quite interesting.

A great time, of course.  I had a (crazy) Canadian named Sebastian and an (even more crazy) Iowan named Abigail visit me this weekend.  I met my first blogger friend, hit up the Chicago Fire game, Oktoberfest, Boundary for the Bears game, Sears Tower observatory... pretty good.  Seb, Ab, and I even took a morning after family photo.  'Tis pictured above.

But things weren't "all good," as you kids would say.  This weekend seemed to be filled with a general lack of human-to-human respect.  I'm unsure if this was just an "as of lately" sort of deal in the moody city of Chi, but people have really upped their abilities to act like total dicks.

Deli Story

I was at the grocery store and the deli lady snapped at me for pointing out the flies in the meat and cheese section.  Went like so:

"You have some flies in your meat casing there."
"Yes.  Ugh.  I know.  You don't need to point it out." (read it again, but snarling this time).

But the story twists - she proceeded to apologize for the fly problem and her attitude 180ed as soon as she saw I was wearing a boot...  I mean, really?  Pity?  I was buying her Summer Sausage and Monty Jack regardless (I've dealt with more disgusting things in Spain).  Lady, just be nice to everybody. 

And it's not like I was killing myself over it, but I'm a valiant supporter of "it's the little things make people happy."

Chicago Bears/Boundary Story

Five of us headed out to The Boundary on Division to see the Bears game on Sunday.

We walked (I hobbled) up to the bar and found five open bar stools right in front of the TV playing the game.  Any Chicagoan knows this is a monumental discovery during a big Bears game, so of course we tried to take advantage.

The only obstacle was that the fifth seat was separate from the other four.  Occupency went like so:
1.  Open Seat.
2.  Open Seat.
3.  Open Seat.
4.  Open Seat.
5.  Taken Seat.
6.  Open Seat.

**And my post just got interrupted by my ma coming home with four Bears tickets for this Sunday's game.  I love my life.  I bet this guy-I'm-about-to-talk-about's ma didn't come home with Bears tickets.  Karma bitch.**

Either way, I asked the Man in Taken Seat if he could move over a stool.  Here's how it went:

"Excuse me, sir.  My friends and I are trying to sit together.  Would you mind moving over?" (now just like above, reread this, but in the nicest voice ever... I mean ever)
"..." (no answer)
"I don't mean to bother you sir, but..."
"You're not bothering me.  I'm just not moving."

Stools # 5 & 6 were right in front of a gigantic TV.  Unless this man could only see out of the very right corner of his right eyeball, it would have physically made no difference.  And he was there alone.  I was officially primed for a verbal and physical rebuttal.

So I proceeded to take Stool #6, and, ever-so-slowly-&-annoyingly, jam it in between Stools # 4 & 5, all while muttering things like "Just had foot surgery...,"  "How rude...," and the ever-so-popular "Muhhh."

He slowly inched away, until I barely fit it into the desired slot.  (That's what she said).  I gave a flat "Thank you."  Event over and da Bears won.  All's well that ends well, but still, why can't we just play nice?

Chicago Fire/View Obstruction Story (/song)

My last result-of-this-weekend rant is about my experience at the Chicago Fire game.  But instead of telling you the story through straight-posting (south side say "str8 postin'!"), I've rewritten the lyrics to Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" and renamed the song "I Will Survive (a near death experience at the Chicago Fire game)."  Enjoy.  I've even included the instrumental so you can sing along.  After all, "interactive" is the new "sexy."

And no, I am not a songwriter, so get off my ass about "rhythm."  I wrote this angry.



At first I was on
The Miller Party Deck
Kept thinking I was just so hungry
I could really use a snack.
So then I took ride up, up the lift
to the Concession Stand
Just like a man
Getting nachos was my plan.

And so I bought
the loaded chips
Then I walked over to the guard rail
I can really move my hips!
But I should have went back to my seat
I should have left that view
If I had known for just one second
That I'd straight run into you.

(refrain start)

So you stood right, in front of me
And you were so big
that I could barely fucking see
You were such a dick, you wouldn't move, you were so ever mean
you thought I'd back down
you thought I'd cry and leave the scene


Oh no, not I
I will survive
A near death experience at a Chicago Fire Game
I know I'll stay alive
Yeah, sure you're 6'5" and 2 bills
Your tattoos give me the chills
but I'll survive
I will survive

Hey Hey

(short intermission/rollerskating-dance party)


It took all the strength I had
to give you this lip:
"Hey man you're in our way, honestly sir
You're being quite the dick"
So then he turned around and snarled
Started backing his own shit
I almost cried
But then I held my head up high!

But before I
Could say word
Security grabbed his ass and then I said:
"Good riddance you basterd!"
Next time you'll think so damn long and hard
About causing such a stir
Cause the only view you'll be seeing soon:
Soap in the jail shower!
 
(back to refrain)
 
(twice, duh)
 
Long live the king. 
Booyakasha.
Give it away.  Give it away.  Give it away.  Now.

My first night out of the house in a month: Phoenix at the Aragon.

Finally.

As many of you know, surgery has kept me grounded for a month.  My immobility has led me to counting bathroom tiles and practicing Scientology...

Haha, ok, so NOT Scientology.  But you get the point - it's tough sitting around for a month... and doing it multiple times in the past half-year hasn't helped either.

But luckily, my pain has subsided.  I'm transitioning into the "special boot" phase, so going out in public, although strikingly unfashionable, has become possible.  Check it:

Notice the Powder Grey High School Yearbook Photo background.  Classy.

Either way, I'm back on my feet.  Along with this good fortune, my music-savvy friend Meg invited me to box seats at the Aragon to go see Phoenix, which, as of the last couple months, has been my go-to band.

(and yes, to all of you asking me if I knew about them before Wolfgang Amadeus and their recent overplaying on XRT.  Pfft.  You people make me sick.)

So right about here is where I could go on and on about how great the seats were and how amazing the band was and how they could potentially be the next Pink Floyd and yadda yadda, but there was one specific moment during the show which really got my inner-giddy-Catholic-school-girl going:

It happened during "Love Like a Sunset, Part I."  As you Phoenixers (dibs if that term gets big) may already know, "Love Like a Sunset, Part I" is an instrumental song.  It's incredibly slow, but doesn't drag on.  It has this insanely intense power that makes you think "Wow, Phoenix gets it.  They really know how to play."  Which, depending on who you ask, can be a rarity these days.

But what really caught my attention was what the lead singer was doing.  Once again, for clarity, I'm talking about an instrumental song.  The lead singer's name is Thomas Mars.  While the band was playing "LLaS Pt. I," Thomas was laying down on the stage, taking it all in.  For even more clarity, I've painted the scene with an extremely tech-savvy program called Microsoft Paint.  You probably wouldn't know about it. 

The red arrow points to Mr. Mars:

How cool is that?  Every other instrumental song I've ever watched goes like this... egotistical lead singer dances around stage, among other stupid shit, and takes away from the rest of his band's awesomeness and instrumental power.  And here is Thomas Mars, realizing that he would be nothing without his badass bandmates, dropping to his back and watching his guys rock out from the best seat in the house.  It does not get any cooler than that.

Lead singers get all the praise.  They get all the face time.  Thomas knows this, and last night he made sure to give his band credit that they truly deserve.

Cheers to you Phoenix.  You're showing everyone in the entertainment world that you don't have to be a complete ass once you make it big.  Keep it up.

Eff you Italian Consulate.

My ma, whose passion for customer service twice exceeds mine, came home today with a funny story...

Ma:  "So I called the Italian Consulate to get your sister that work visa today."
Me:  "Okay."


What? I was eating. Give me a break.



Ma:  "It cost me $3 a minute."
Me: (bar-b-que chicken falls out of mouth) ... (long pause) ... (puzzled look)

Ma:  "I called the Italian Consulate today.  It's an 800 number.  In order to get a student visa in Italy, you have to call the Consulate to make an appointment.  When you call, they ask for your credit card number, because it costs $3 a minute to be on the phone with them."
Me:  "Wait, so it costs $3 a minute to make an appointment?"

Ma:  "Yes.  The funny part was, I got charged for a minute while they waited for my credit card to be approved."
Me:  "Where is the Consulate?"

Ma:  "In Chicago."  (we live in Chicago)


Lesson learned.  If you're looking to speak to the Italian Consulate, send a postcard.  Bastards.

$100,000 debt? No problem, says the Hildebrandt family of New Richmond, Wisconsin.

I opened up my Yahoo! homepage this morning and came across an amazing story of a Wisconsin family that chose to smash their $100,000 debt, rather than file for bankruptcy.  It's a great story of how a family took debt into their own hands, rather than deal with greedy debt management companies or the weight of bankruptcy.

Check it out:

Debt Elimination Story

Even though they had a really tough time managing the process, they kept their debt elimination goal in tact and found ways to survive.  Yes, sacrifices were made, but they were sacrificing WANTS, not NEEDS.  Makes cutting down that lingering student loan seem possible now, doesn't it?

The "Kia Rio Fan-Favorite Quote of the Week" Award goes to...

Bill Simmons, ESPN Columnist, on Jake Delhomme's epic meltdown:

"Well, what happens to a player if he can't hit rock bottom because it already happened? What happens to a player who doesn't have to worry about regaining the trust of his fans because it's already gone? Maybe that player becomes liberated. It's like Seinfeld's famous joke about why old people back out of driveways without ever looking to see if cars are coming. They don't care anymore. They're old. They're backing up, that's that, and we have to get out of their way. Period. I think Jake reached that point. He has nothing to lose because it's already gone. So why wouldn't Jake just go out there, fling the football and have fun?"

You can check out Bill's hilariously riotous blog at The Sports Guy.

Beware of the dreaded Flangover.

Dear Heavy Drinkers and Flu Shot Recipients,

My dearest of friends Abigail (pictured above... no, not the Canadian) has brought to my attention that the combination of receiving a flu shot and then knocking back a couple Bud heavys could lead to a potentially disturbing set of circumstances the morning thereafter.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you.... the Flangover.

I received a call from Abby earlier today that went something like this:

"Hullllohh."

"Abby, you sound like shit."

"I feel like shit."

"Get drunk last night?"

"Not really, had a few."

Stop.  Quick clarification:  Abby being hungover after only a few beers is quite the rarity.  I usually don't make the mistake of boosting her self-confidence (doesn't need it, rather the opposite, I'm not one to talk), but she handles her liquor better than your favorite uncle.

A couple hours later we text battle:

D:  "You doing any better?  Still feeling shitty?"

A:  "I definitely puked.  But I'm not hungover I don't think?? I hope to god I don't have the flu. :("  

Sidenote: Something about you women and your emoticons really gets me going.

D:  "Can you get sick from the shot?"

A:  "Oh yeah.  That's usually why I never get the shot... but gosh darnit..."

D:  "Well fuck.  How long does the bastard usually linger?"

A:  "IF it's even the flu? My body could just be pissed at me because I haven't stopped for about 4 weeks now..."

D:  "Maybe it's a genetic mutation of the flu and a hangover.  The Flangover."

Well, well, well.  The combination of kicking back a few and a flu shot did her in.  Quite the scientific discovery (disclaimer: no science was done in the finding of this discovery).

Now I'm warning all of you, because this is a very important time of year.  It's flu season (not sure if that's true) and it's drinking season (always true), so the Flangover is extra prevalent during these times of hardship.

So what valuable lesson can we learn from Abby's terribly pukey day?

Hangovers cannot be avoided.

Love,

Damian

Now is the time to start that t-shirt company you vehemently rant about, Jacob.

Two posts ago I wrote The Overstock.com Story.  Here's what I got out of my experience:

1.  Don't shop at Overstock.com (given, but needed repeating).

2.  Right now is a wonderful time to start a small business.

Reason #1 is detailed in the above link.  Reason #2 is explained below.

The economy sucks.  If this statement is in any way revolutionary to you, please watch this video.  Warning: It's extra explanatory.

So, as a result of the economy sucking, businesses are losing money.  Especially the big ones.  For any of you return readers, you know I hate cliches, so I'll attempt to avoid a used one by creating one my own:

The more larger they are becoming today, the quickerer they hit the ground tomorrow.

Thank me later.

So where do these big businesses cut costs?  Well, they should be slashing executive salaries (I'm so tempted to go all tangent on you right now, but I'll refrain), but instead they seem to be cutting operational costs.

(Example:  Overstock.com has cut costs by apparently NOT testing their products.  We'll keep using them as an example, because I hate them.)

Large companies, like Overstock.com, are losing business from two different types of people:

1.  The "I've lost so much money that I cannot afford to spend any discretionary income" person.
2.  The "I've lost enough money that I cannot be wasting my well-earned dollahs on the crappy customer-care at Overstock.com anymore" person.

There isn't much to be done about Person #1.  The government can't even fix that problem.

But... There is an opportunity in wooing Person #2.  Large companies are losing business, because people won't put up with their shit anymore.  People are being smarter with their money.  They're envisioning their money as "worth more," because in many cases, they've had to work harder to earn it.  And people are so turned off by spending money that the least bit of crappy service completely closes the door on them really buying anything at all.

So what if one really needs to buy something?  Where to?

(In flies your small business to save the day with it's David vs. Goliath mindset ready to tend to your customer's every need)

There are a couple reasons why small businesses work right now:

They're more personal.  This idea can easily be grasped by your experience in a Wal-Mart vs. a Ma & Pop.  'Nuff said.

They don't have millions of dollars to lose.  All those gigantic companies have lost or are losing money fast.  Something has to go, and in many cases, their business suffers because of it.  Whether it be a chunk of their employees or a vital distribution branch, these large businesses start becoming overworked with their new situation.  Consequence: a lesser product or experience.  A newly formed small business doesn't have to deal with this, because it's just being formed.  Your business wouldn't be adapting, because you'd be giving birth to a "child of the times."

The goal would be to create a base, not survive a downturn.  Large businesses of today built the base of their company on the credit-loving people of yesterday.  They were so used to making money off of people that couldn't afford their products, and now they're fucked because of it.  Starting a small business now would rely on a customer base of people who actually have money, because using credit right now really scares the shit out of people.  As the business grows and the economy strengthens, you'll have an honest customer base who will actually pay the bills.

Besides the business benefits, you yourself will benefit as well.  Success upon success will boost your confidence and failure after failure will teach you how to become a stronger person.  And if you do things right, you'll be in charge of your own job security, which doesn't sound half bad, now does it?

So if you're a stone's throw away from a million dollar idea, right now may be your best bet at making that dream into a success.  Take a leap.  Dive in.  Cest la vie.  Life's short.  Take a chance.

And don't be shy about telling everybody who inspired you (after you succeed, of course).

May your mother's cousin never be assaulted by Attila the Hun at the supermarket.

... I got nothin.

Overstock.com is bogus.

Now I'm not really into blatantly bashing companies over the internet, but, being the product of a consumer-oriented degree, I need to get this out there as to warn potential customers.

DO NOT SHOP AT OVERSTOCK.COM.

I just recently purchased two LG computer monitors from their online store, and upon giving these bad boys a test drive, I found a damaged pixel in monitor numero dos.

Ok, not-so-big-a-deal.  I figured I would just make an exchange for a new monitor and no harm done.

But when I received the new monitor and plugged it in, I found that the same exact pixel was busted.

I contacted customer service again and told them that I'd like a guarantee on a working product or a refund on my purchase.  The representative explained to me that they thoroughly test all of their products, but cannot guarantee that they would be in working condition.

Wait a minute.  So... They're telling me that they test their products but apparently have a shipment of LG monitors with noticeable and identical damaged pixels?

I see something wrong with this picture.  They obviously don't test their products, and as a result, they've attached LG's name to their half-assed business practices.  LG would not be happy, and neither am I.  So I let Iris, my customer rep, know that a tweak in the testing process is probably overdue.

Soon thereafter, I ended up going the refund route and will never buy a product from their website ever again.

Which now that I've gotten all of this off my chest, I have a "bigger picture" idea involving this debacle which will turn into a post sometime before the day's end.  Stay tuned for a revolution... 

Or I may just be drinking too much coffee.  We'll find out soon enough.

"Who in the Health Cares About Our Well-Being Anyway?" ( A not-so-obvious response to our current Health Care situation)

Dear Mr. President Obama of the United States of America,

I get it.  You're pushing for Universal Health Care.  This new plan you've so proudly graced America with puts Health Care Coverage in the hands of the government.  And as much as your political mask covers up the idea of universality, by saying the privately-run organizations will be able to "continue doing business" and their patrons won't be "forced" to stop using them, do you honestly believe these companies will stay afloat?  Your new plan will draw people away from the private companies, drive up their prices, draw away more people, drive up more prices... all ending in these organizations going out of business.  That would not be good.  It would be like if the government decided to start selling cheap cars because Ford's prices were getting too jacked up... (instead they are being pumped full of money, but that's another rant).

(cue new perspective on the Health Care problem)

If you are so goddamn worried about the health of your people, why not just solve the problem by creating laws against the very things that make us sick in the first place? 

(And yes, I know the answers are capital and re-election, but I'm going to jam this down your throat anyway in hopes of American political reform... Heaven forbid we collectively realize how stupid American politics is anyway.  I mean really - voting?  We let everybody vote?  What a joke.  Everybody includes people who know nothing about the candidates.  An American citizen needs zero knowledge whatsoever to decide who will hold the highest held position in the nation?  Hahahaha.  And to think that the cutoff age for voting is 18 years old.  What a rule!  Many would say that high school government students know more about our country's politics than their vote-privileged parents.  Well, that is until the kids forget it right after they take their finals.  If anything needs reform, it's the way we choose our nation's leader.)


Mush.  Onward to my point.  I know you don't have too much time between now and your next political decision - oh wait, those were decided hundreds of years ago when your party was formed.  So much for change!

Really, though.  Health of our nation.  My 782nd attempt:

Here are the top five leading causes of death in America:
1. Coronary Heart Disease
2. Cancer
3. Stroke
4. Accidents
5. Lung Disease

I don't need to pull up any scientific figures or evidence to say that these leading causes of death can be decreased significantly by the banning of:

1. Alcohol
2. Cigarettes
3. Fast food (and the related)
4. Sitting on the couch, doing absolutely nothing, avoiding exercise

Oh?  What's that?  It's financially/physically/politically/(insert own adverb here if desired... "funlessly" is a good one) impossible to do these things?

"Damian, have you ever heard of prohibition!?!!?! We've already tried that you ninny!"

"Ban cigarettes?  It's my constitutional (cough) right to (cough) smoke whenever I (throat clear) damn well please!"

"Make it to the gym?  Dammit Damian!  I work so hard all damn day! All I want to do when I get home is lay on my couch and watch reality TV!"

"Damian... excuse me.  First off, no comment.  But off the record, Phil Morris brings in $50 billion every year.  Our government thrives off cigarette taxes."

Alright.  You've all made your points ever-so-clearly.  If America's culture has taught us anything, harming ourselves is completely in-line with the law.  It is our freedom to gamble with our lives through the over-indulgence of cigarettes, alcohol, unhealthy diets, sloth, and otherwise.  Short-term goodness with long-term consequence = part of our culture (comparison to American politics anyone?).

Hmmmmm.  We're allowed to harm our bodies to the full extent, yet one of our country's main concerns is Health Care.  Does anyone else see this as a problem?

Now onto your proposed solution (without the obvious political dress-ups):

Take money from all in order to help the sick become healthy.

This solution helps push us towards the proposed goal - affordable Health Care.  Fine.  I get that.  But why slap a short-term band-aid on a deep wound when stitches are the necessary, long term solution?  The logic in your fix is yucky.

So... "What should be done?!?!" you say.  Well, Mr. President, I'm glad that you've finally asked.  My answer:  Instead of fixing "Health Care," fix "health."  Let's get our people to lead better lives.  With a healthier population, America can worry less about it's Health Care problem.  You want to lower Health Care costs?  Lead a country of healthy people!  Problem solved.

And more opposition:

"People won't just stop smoking!  They won't just all the sudden start going to the gym!  Stop boozing?  Yeah right!  Bars are the center of social life in every city in the U.S.!!"

You're so right.  This is where all that Health Care money can be used in a more productive way...

Education.

The age of kids discovering cigarettes, alcohol, unhealthy food, laziness... it's getting lower and lower.  The government may have imposed a warning on the cigarette box that says "Cigarettes kill," but we all know that peer pressure easily trumps these labels.  And that's the obvious killer.  Take a look at laziness - it's becoming an everyday pastime with our PS3s, HDTVs, among others.  And with these children starting their downward spiral at such an early age, addictions and bad habits are becoming more and more prevalent.  The probability of kicking these addictions later in life also decreases.  Kids lose their potential for a healthy life before their true decision-making skills even begin to bloom.

Our children need responsible adults to show them how to lead a healthy life - or at least how to dabble in these vices, rather than dive.  They need to know the consequences of their behaviors.  Bring in a victim of an esophagus removal.  Have a 500-pound visitor physically show them how hard it is to live an overweight life.  Have a drunk driver in shackles show graphic pictures of a terrible crash they caused.  And this is just the beginning.  All the money that was going to be used for Health Care can be put towards a variety of programs.  I may not be an expert on teaching values to children, but there must be someone out there who is.  Find the strategies that work and the people who can execute them.  Then, fund them on a national level.

Yes, it's drastic.  But it's better to keep the kids healthy and traumatized rather than naive and worrying about who's going to pay for their liver transplant.

Show these kids early on how to be healthy, and they'll pass these values on to their children, and theirs and theirs and so on.  Solve the Health Care problem by uprooting, rather than chopping down the tree and leaving a stump.  Because if you don't attack a problem at it's core, it will keep coming back to haunt you.

American politicians - fix this problem the right way... the moral way... Don't do this politically.


Show Americans how to be healthy, rather than raise funds to fix their avoidable illnesses.  It may not be the popular decision, but remember, Mr. President...

You promised us change.  Not popularity.  Now give it to us.


Respectfully,
Damian

P.S. This is was not meant to bash you specifically, Mr. President.  You're just the easiest target.  Personally, I think you're doing a great job representing America.  It's the scope of our politics that needs reform.  Thank you.

I'm a naughty Catholic schoolgirl...

... but I only wear the skirt on the weekends...

and holidays.  Shit... boys fill yards because of my milkshake.

But my plaid rags and dairy-dessert aura are taking a back seat to my current state: giddy.

It's football season.  And no, I'm not talking about the nonsensical crap that college teams play on Saturdays.  I don't pay attention to sports whose most grand honor gets decided by people who aren't even in college.  Thanks BCS.  Your greed decides national champions.  Get your head out of your selfish ass, and start making your sport's championship about effort and skill rather than Benjamins and Ulysses.

It's all about Ulysses S. Grant, baby.

But onto what's really important: the National Football League.

Specifically, the 2009-2010 season.  If you've been living in Moscow (or under a rock... har har) then you've missed one of the most ridiculous offseasons in the league's history.  Which only means that the season itself will predictably be one of the most interesting of all time.

My current list of specific excitements:

Uno - Los Chicago Bears

They're my team.  Forever and ever.  They've also failed to have a decent quarterback forever and ever.  Jay Cutler's in town, and although I've had my fair share of social headbutts (post to be written later) with Jay, my forgiveness can be bought with two Super Bowl rings.

Dos - Senor Michael Vick

Stud-footballer turned pothead turned dogfighter turned convict turned ex-con turned back up quarterback turned... question mark.  Yes, question mark.  Because Philadelphia's been ungrateful towards current quarterback Donovan McNabb for so long that, if things go south for the Eagles, he may get benched for someone whose been in jail for the last 18 months.

Tres - Brady's Back

Women, start drooling.  Giselle has to share her man again.  Tom Brady's record-breaking season two years ago was followed with a blown out knee in the Patriot's opener.  Finally, Tom's back, and I'd be scared if I was anyone else in the AFC East.  He's going to roll over all of you.

Quatro - Brett Farve

Being a die-hard Bears fan, he's technically the Joker to my Batman.  And somehow, the asshole's back in the NFC North.  After "pretend-retiring 37 times," as reported by dickipedia.com (yes, real), he's returned as a Viking in a gigantic-Eff-you-Packers-move unrivaled by any team-switch in sports history.  This would be like if Heath Ledger played the Joker in 15 Batman movies, faked his own suicide a couple times between the filming of the last two or three, then taking the role of Two-Face and completely butchering it because of his lack of preparation, faking his suicide 2 or 3 more times, and then coming back for one more Batman film to play the Penguin, and once again butchering the role because of his lack of preperation.  Like I said - asshole.

Cinco - Chad Ochocinco

He's bound to do something insane.  He's already making threats via Twitter.

Seis - Everybody else.

There's so many other storylines ranging from Oakland's deeper fall into loserdom to Plaxico's, Pacman's, Marvin's, Donte's (list goes on) run-ins with the law that make all of America scream, "YOU HAVE EVERYTHING!!!!  YOU'RE ALL MILLIONAIRES!!!!  WHY ARE YOU (insert avoidable, idiotic crime here)!!!!!!!!!"

If the league keeps this up, we're bound to have a year even more memorable than Janet Jackson's '04 "wardrobe malfunction."  Looking forward to what happens next.

Viva los Bears.

A "pumpkin" is a large, orange fruit....

But to "pump kin" is to make love to one's own relatives.

Which is the best segue I could conjure up to introduce this post's topic: the Pulitzer Prize winning Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides (also part of Oprah's Book Club... but mentioning this may or may not cause you to vomit, so I put it in parenthesis).

Now I haven't finished the book, but I already feel strongly enough about it to recommend.  Middlesex is the life (and pre-life) story of how transexual Calliope Stephanides explores a "guilty family secret" that made her who she is today.

My affinity for this book stems from attending high school in a typical upper class Chicago suburb.  Translation: being different meant being ridiculed.  If anyone was a transsexual, they were definitely not open about it.  Combine that with my college years at the conservative Purdue University, and I can honestly say I've never had the opportunity to learn anything about being transgendered. It's incredible to hear a new perspective.  Eugenides' style is a fresh mixture of male and female voices, combining to create an amazing presentation of this ever-so-unique story.

Open up your literary mind and add this to your library.  You won't regret it.

Odd numbers are the enemy.

May the army of even fend them off at all costs.

If it takes 11 steps to get to the door, take an extra step.
If the volume sits at 63, kick it up a notch to 64.
Crack three knuckles?  Crack three more.

Everyday life is a numbers game.  Keep things even, and everything is alright.  Literally fight off the odds to figuratively fight off the odds.  These are the things I think about.

So why?  What's the point?

That's the point.

What I've been listening to...

The pain meds from my surgery have left me creatively inept. So, I've decided to leave you with some music that's been getting me through the day. Escucha.


Phoenix - 1901, from the ablum "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix"



Currently, my favorite band. Check out their music video for this track too. Original and very un-embed-able. Bastards.

Arctic Monkeys - Mardy Bum, from the album "Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not"



"Oh" for Two on video selection. Apparently, my Youtube scavenging skills are piss-poor. At least this one passes the "I'm gonna throw a solo Karaoke party" test.

Barcelona - Stars, from the album "Absolutes"



I spent last summer in Barcelona, so I share a special affinity with this band. Plus - alternative music with electronic work is so 2009.

Ben Folds - Effington, from the album "Way to Normal"



Hahahaha. Wow. Ok, so Ben Folds decided to write a song about a small town in Illinois, on the way to a concert in Normal, Illinois. He ended up playing the song in front of the town, only to find out that the town's name was Effingham, not Effington. I can't make this stuff up:

http://www.thesuburbs.org.uk/Board/index.php?action=printpage%3Btopic=5215.0

Eddie Vedder - Rise, from the "Into the Wild" soundtrack



I listen to this album whenever I think about leaving Chicago. A bit cheesy, yes, but it makes leaving everything I've ever known seem simple, rather than unnecessarily complicated.

My tusk hurts. A haiku.

That poor elephant
Walks blindly, into a tree.
He could use a drink.

Spreading Haiku Monday like buttah on hot bread.
Check out Night Notes on Napkins for more inspiration.

I'm horizontal.

But not in the Enrique Iglesias-violation-of-Ms. Anna Kournikova "Escape" video horizontal.



Reason numero uno being, I am man enough to rock a facial mole. Enrique lasered off his glorious, hairy, brown mound. Sell out.

But the reason primarily being, because he's seducing Anna Kournikova, and I'm recovering from foot surgery (and in all honestly, I'm not jealous. Anna doesn't do it for me, and I personally don't think she does it for Enrique either.) Either way, yesterday morning, I had a bone chip and scar tissue removed from the outside of my right foot, otherwise known as my calcaneocuboid joint. Since then, I haven't left the couch.

I'm in an ugly, gauze-colored cast, surrounded by my laptop, a couple novels, painkillers, and uncomfortable pillows... those back-aching pillows whose main purpose serves aesthetically, rather than functionally. Unfortunately, the leather couch beneath me keeps my sweating constant, as do the pain pills. The musty air of our 100-year-old house suffocates any chance of me getting fresh air. On top of that, my terrible case of heartburn seems to be lingering, a side-effect stemming from laying down all day long.

(Enter your feelings of sympathy. Apathy accepted as well.)

This is my second foot surgery in six months, and hopefully my last. At the end of this recovery, I'm attempting a move out West. I've been in and out of talks with my aunt and uncle in Topanga, all while praying for the opportunity to stay in their mountain villa. They're juggling four kids under six years old, so kicking it on their couch is much more feasible in conversation rather than practice.

Anybody in the market for a roommate?

LOL this and LMFAO that....

Hank Moody illustrates his (self) loathing towards internet slang below.

I like this. A lot. Especially this:

“It just seems to me that (the internet)’s just a bunch of stupid people pseudo communicating with a bunch of other stupid people in a proto language that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the King’s English.”

I hear the critics of this clip already… “Communication has come a long way! We send more messages now than ever! It’s faster! Easier! We get more done!”

That’s fair. We say more. Larger output. “C u l8r” beats out “I’ll see you later” as far as speed of delivery goes.

But…

But… when does this speed and simplicity start to take away from the message? When did communicating become words being passed back and forth sans any real emotion?

Now honestly, I’m no sap. I didn’t cry during the Notebook (yes, an admission -- I saw it and liked it.) but would it kill people to put some umpf into what they say? Not because I’m some needy guy looking for smiles and frowns and beautiful emotional moments and such… BUT I’D LIKE TO KNOW THAT WHOEVER I’M TALKING TO IS AN ACTUAL REAL LIVE PERSON.

Tell me you haven’t heard this statistic: 93% or so of everything we communicate is non-verbal. As in not what we say but more how we say it. Anyone who has taken a basic Communications class knows this.

So… if we’re moving towards a culture that communicates mainly with text and email… if our everyday conversations have a main purpose of jamming information quickly rather than thoroughly putting the whole point across, including how we actually feel… if our society is moving past one message just to make sure we don’t miss the next…

Do any of us really have anything to say anymore?

I beg you all. Slow down. Allow yourself to leave your drone-like tendencies. Yes, we live in a world where the balance of everything lies in how much information one person has over the other.

But life flies by way too quickly. And personally, my favorite moments are the ones where my emotions are so swept up with whoever I’m with that words not need to be said. Which leads me to believe that if we don’t do something, gone will be the moments that words cannot describe.

And for those who write… which means all of you… (let’s get serious, no one’s stumbling onto my blog) … I suggest you check out Californication. Duchovney at his finest.

"Can I make you Breakfast?" A haiku.

"First things first, honey,"
As we lay in bed as one,
"What's your name again?"

And if you try some time, you might just find...

...you get what you need. Post returning soon.

Who says we have to be realistic?

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