The Story Of Why

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58311782012-01-30T02:10:26.425-06:00The Story Of Why"There is a particular cheesiness in us all and I'm no different from you so don't throw stones in the cheese house." --Jacob Clifton, Television Without PityGladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.comBlogger8941100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-32231801316374701372012-01-30T02:10:00.001-06:002012-01-30T02:10:26.432-06:00As the Sinking Ship Turns...er, Lists

Mom has put her foot down; as of February 28th, she will no longer be able to offer me any type of financial assistance whatsoever. I can't blame her--she's been so far beyond "generous" that I feel like I should squelch my misery. See, once we get to the first of March, I will (barring a miracle) have to move home, sans CR, to Mom's basement. Aside from the normal unhappiness, I am entirely

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-70240415584460244362012-01-17T23:26:00.002-06:002012-01-18T00:33:41.620-06:00Don't Worry, I Haven't Heard From Me Either

So yes--I am here, still alive, and still Gladys. I think my seven months of blog-silence has been just another hallmark of my depression, which I'd largely allowed to take over my whole life. I'm still unemployed; I had a job for three days back in the summer somewhere, but that came to an abrupt halt when my manager caught me dozing off. (Yes, it's exactly what it seems: my apnea is WAY not

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-87418787576308214572011-06-11T03:29:00.003-05:002011-06-11T03:33:36.070-05:00Still

Still here. Still broke.Still jobless.Still head-over-heels with CR, who has changed to a degree I could not even have hoped for in my wildest dreams. (If he'd stop foofing cigarette ashes over every stationary surface, he'd be perfect; as it stands, he's just NEARLY-perfect. I wonder if this is the reward for putting up with all the bullshit in the past; if so, all I can say is "Thank you!")Did

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-24758586381314187762010-12-08T00:51:00.004-06:002010-12-08T00:59:44.246-06:00Yummiest Thing Ever

1. Locate a large glass or plastic container. A 32-oz cup should do nicely.2. Scoop a fairly-large amount of vanilla ice-cream into the cup. (Actually, "scoop" is not the ideal method; the best thing to do is to take a regular teaspoon or tablespoon, then run it across the surface of the ice cream. The idea is to fill the cup loosely, so that there are spaces between the bits of ice cream.)3.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-15257395688949213732010-12-06T23:38:00.002-06:002010-12-07T00:13:25.504-06:00Surfacing

Okay, you can stop panicking--I'm still alive. Pissed-off, unemployed, and plagued by cats--but alive.Yes, that says "unemployed". The sleep apnea kicked back in--although for the majority of the time, both CR and I were convinced that it was actually narcolepsy (I was talking in my sleep, walking around and falling asleep on my feet; apparently, I was even digging poor CR with my pointy elbows

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-46780668880495543602010-09-02T21:26:00.002-05:002010-09-02T21:38:02.519-05:00"You Really, Really Like Me!"

Sorry for the long absence; I haven't given up on this place, but it's been a hectic couple of months.Let's see. I was put on probation at work at the beginning of July, for excessive absence and for not keeping up with the rest of the pack in terms of completed work tickets, and for increasingly falling asleep at my desk. Well, we know all about that sleep thing: Gladys hasn't been using her

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-4692423399481092072010-07-07T15:36:00.002-05:002010-07-07T21:03:52.626-05:00An Informational Public Service Announcement

Friendly friends of mine, please allow me to pass along the wisdom of my many years upon this earth. (Firefly, you really wanna stop reading NOW--this post references the V word repeatedly, graphically, and in the ickiest ways imaginable.)You know, the world is filled with lessons. "Don't touch that stove." "Don't walk down dark alleys alone at midnight." "Doctors don't tell you a damn thing you

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-71527682378213594002010-05-30T01:19:00.002-05:002010-05-30T01:58:10.900-05:00Neglectful Blogger is Neglectful

Although I must admit, the comments full of worry are kinda comforting.So no, I have not fallen off the face of the earth, and no, I have not been neglecting you guys for CR, either--if I'm neglecting my blog and its readers for anything, it's for work, sleep, housecleaning, and Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook. CR was only here for about ten days, this last time, and he's been gone for almost a week

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-30005182507061688332010-04-30T18:53:00.002-05:002010-04-30T19:56:28.910-05:00'Cuz I Said I'd Explain It

I probably, in the previous post, should have added one small codicil to my "spring in Chicago" note, namely this: Spring in Chicago is one of the best...blah blah blah....UNTIL it gets to be about noon, and the temperature crosses the 80-degree mark and the building you're in STILL has not got a firm grasp of the concept of "air conditioning", and then the clouds come and trap all the gooey,

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-29970304551260174682010-04-29T09:09:00.002-05:002010-04-29T09:15:13.813-05:00Cryptic, But In a Good Way

Later on, perhaps, when I've actually been to sleep within the preceding 26 hours (a criterion to which now does not conform), I will be able to explain more about, offer reasons for, or otherwise expand upon, the following statement. But right now, once I have a Motrin and a Pepsi, I plan to be entirely unconscious within minutes, and so I will say only this for now:What an awesome morning.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-4798386600048451582010-04-12T23:27:00.002-05:002010-04-13T00:09:07.819-05:00Several Dozen Emotions

Okay, I'm back.Emotion number 1: Fucking OWWWWWWWWW. I have a root-canal scheduled for Friday. So necessary is this root-canal that I actually called the dentist's office today and asked if I could move it to an EARLIER day. MAN this thing sucks.Emotion number 2: Gah. Today, for basically no reason at all, I got snapped at by Mister Christian--you know, my evangelical cube-mate. There are six

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-89011454064168878512010-03-16T18:01:00.003-05:002010-03-17T00:05:18.028-05:00(Not a) Very Brief Update

Firefly, on the phone the other night, said I sounded much better than that last post would indicate, and I'm going to have to agree: that was a REAL ugly day, or couple of days, and most of the interceding ones have been better.Well, better for ME, anyway:--Tim got locked up; as this is his fourth or fifth DUI, and at least the third accident he's caused while drinking and driving, and he was

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-68680600736264324062010-03-02T18:30:00.002-06:002010-03-02T18:39:16.720-06:00Yeah, Well, This One Ain't Much Better.

I would like to sell my brain. Actually I'd be willing to barter; my screwed-up brain for a more reliable, less fucked-up model. Preferably something without total recall; or at least, with controllable total recall. I would like to be able to cut it off when it starts heading in certain unprofitable directions.I wonder sometimes if I'm going to spend the rest of my life wishing for a few months

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-28369168925605609092010-02-20T20:39:00.002-06:002010-02-20T20:51:49.776-06:00A Very Very Big Sad

I just got a call from Tim's number; Squeaky, though, was the one who made the call. "Gladys?" she said, her voice shaking a little. "Cassidy just died, just now. And Tim's freaking out. Do you wanna talk to him?" she asked."If he wants to talk," I said, and she handed him the phone.I don't know what he said, actually; he was crying so hard I couldn't make out a word. I did manage to hear him say

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-22557286374700299642010-02-20T13:26:00.005-06:002010-02-20T20:39:39.865-06:00I'm Smarter Than I Think

So Tim and Squeaky, still broken up (I guess) are still cohabiting--if "when one walks in the other hands them the baby and walks out, often for days at a time" can be referred to as "cohabitation". Tim called me last night (at 11:30, 12:45, and 4 AM...on a work-night....before my earliest morning of the week....) and, among other things, told me that Squeaky had not been home for four days, and

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-23908818202764683392010-02-08T20:10:00.002-06:002010-02-08T21:12:39.544-06:00Just A Flat-Out Happy

Deb had her baby!!! TinyGirl, who will get a proper blog-name once I meet her, was born around 3 PM this afternoon, and is, to quote Deb, "just as precious as she can be." And of course, there's supposed to be a blizzard tonight and all day tomorrow, so I probably won't get to meet her til Thursday; but still. I'd sent MisterDeb (who needs HIS own blog-name too, since it appears he's gonna stick

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-33250661777843460342010-02-05T09:00:00.002-06:002010-02-05T09:04:52.861-06:00The Horror: Part Two

This one just makes me want to cry, or possibly put my head through the wall. The only--the ONLY--positive thing I can say about this is, at least it wasn't her mom's mother's female parent's idea.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-39901481712821709442010-02-05T08:57:00.001-06:002010-02-05T08:59:29.490-06:00The Horror: Part One

No, it's not related to Tim and/or Squeaky; in fact, it's not even related to me personally...

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-70026189452687343312010-02-04T04:31:00.003-06:002010-02-04T04:44:12.501-06:004 AM Updates

For the third time tonight, I just got off the phone with Tim.Call #1 was a two-hour catching-up call, with the occasional Squeaky-related complaint, but no signs of anything critical.(Anyone got a guess on where this might be heading?)Call #2, at midnight, waking me from a sound sleep, was to ask me what I thought about the following: Squeaky had called early today asking Tim if he minded if she

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-56290755876628399772010-02-03T22:25:00.000-06:002010-02-04T04:30:56.848-06:00Re: My Paranoia Post (Two Posts Down)

So today EZ pointed out that the piece I posted, re: Jubal Aviv, the supposed terror expert, had actually been debunked on Snopes. And I clicked the link, and I said "Well I'll be damned," and thus I post this acknowledgement that, yeah--I bought it, and it's apparently bunk, and so I am slightly more-pink-in-the-face than usual. (Normally I can smell a Snopes a mile away...that one was well-done

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-9714365927400766142010-02-01T16:20:00.002-06:002010-02-01T16:24:48.496-06:00Any Ideas On This One?

Okay. So: Antidepressants.Supposed to make you LESS depressed, yes? As in, no longer a swampy, inert mass of non-motivation?Not being 100% sure that they were going to authorize a refill of my prescription, and having heard that the withdrawals from this one (Effexor) are a howling bitch-monkey, I cut my dose down about four days ago from 225 mg to 150 mg (from 3 pills to 2 pills) per day. And

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-75454419981142968872010-01-31T23:14:00.003-06:002010-01-31T23:20:14.903-06:00Paranoia is Free, But Still I Don't Trust the Government

I'm stealing this post, unabashedly, from eatmisery. Normally I ignore stuff like this, and puke (sorry Firefly, nearly used the v-word) at the very MENTION of Fox News or Bill O'Reilly, but after reading this, I figure: can't hurt.This was sent to me by a good friend. it pertains to what is going on concerning Juval Aviv, who was the Israeli Agent upon whom the movie 'Munich' was based. He was

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-20893149598864375262010-01-29T17:58:00.008-06:002010-01-30T14:36:43.097-06:00Where Am I Again?

I am....here. I'm not entirely thrilled with that fact, but there it is.I think I'm just terminally dissatisfied with....well, pretty much everything. It's a really obnoxious way to live, but I haven't quite figured out how to shake it. Some days I think I'm getting better; some days I think I'm getting worse. I finally sat myself down a couple of weeks ago and gave myself a stern talking-to;

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-90849111413650076542010-01-10T00:08:00.002-06:002010-01-10T02:22:46.624-06:00Wow...It's Been THAT Long?

Okay. First: I am alive.Second: I am...reasonably well, at the moment, though last week I could have cheerfully killed whichever member of the CTA-riding public had passed along his or her pathogens to me. (It had to be the bus. Public vehicles are like Winnebagos for microbes.) But now I am healthy, as much as I ever am, and apart from the usual suspects--the irritations of daily life and a case

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-1316073199507555692009-12-10T17:42:00.002-06:002009-12-10T22:13:16.362-06:00Since I'm Here....

...I shall mumble crankishly in print regarding my morning.As I'm sure I've intimated more than once, my finances are currently inhabiting Le Crapper. This is largely the lingering aftereffects of supporting a large collection of campers, both human and feline, for quite a lot of time. (Grand total, not counting myself and the two cats I started with: Three humans, one human-under-construction,

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-51308832276539301232009-12-09T20:59:00.002-06:002009-12-09T21:47:07.037-06:00Also, It's Freakin' COLD.

So yes, I am alive and well, and I don't think I've gone this long without posting in a long, long time. Mostly this can be traced to our good friend Mr. Depression, who has been kicking my ass in a most unrepentant way for lo these many days now. (I took a week off work, planning to do all sorts of work around my apartment, clear out old clothes and books and whatnot--and all week long I didn't

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-17895686715811753872009-11-07T12:16:00.002-06:002009-11-07T14:36:40.694-06:00Happy (?) Endings

They're gone.I didn't go into it over the past couple of weeks, since I didn't want to jinx myself; but everything went as planned and on Wednesday, Tim and Squeaky moved out.And for some reason, I've been a big ol' ball of depressed ever since.Now, if that's not the most ridiculous damn thing I've ever heard of, I don't know what is--but it's true. I can't even articulate what's making me so sad

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-32332413783818562082009-10-17T14:30:00.004-05:002009-10-17T16:36:04.440-05:00An Unfortunate Lack of Resistance

So...um...Remember those other two kittens, the calico and the orangey, we weren't going to keep?See.....What had happened was.....Okay, what had REALLY happened was, they were too damn cute to let go of. Squeaky had totally bonded with the little orange one, and when Tim said something to the effect of "When he's adopted..." and Squeaky's face just crumpled up and she started BAWLING. After that

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-54929315019996433872009-10-08T23:50:00.000-05:002009-10-09T09:19:01.952-05:00New Post

Um.Let's see.Short version, for condensedness:Spent a weekend with CR; he came in from Bunglepoot, HL (Hickland--it's a state!) I nearly cried when I saw him...he looked really, really bad. His health is probably way worse than he's telling me. But overall, the weekend was pretty good.......until.I got an e-mail from CR's sis-in-law, saying that she'd got an e-mail from CR's ex, claiming that

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-68481015586398750742009-10-08T02:18:00.001-05:002009-10-08T02:20:22.663-05:00Coming Soon

Everyone please stop worrying; there's a new post coming tomorrow.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-46647049613126305732009-09-10T17:23:00.003-05:002009-09-11T00:13:06.030-05:00Mysteries of the Universe, Continued

Normally, faced with the statement that follows, I would immediately reply (at least inwardly) "What a frickin MORON." Because...well, here, let me give you the statement, and we'll go from there..."I can tell you what (the current vampire craze in popular culture) is about...It's about EVIL! There are bands of vampires in New York City--LIVING in New York City!--and there are advertisers--no,

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-63999001751148834922009-09-07T18:47:00.002-05:002009-09-07T19:06:12.605-05:00(=.=)

(That title, incidentally, is a squinchy-face, such as normally accompanies the response "Oh you DO, do you.") I am saying exactly this much on the subject, and no more. It's very easy to say what you would, or wouldn't, do in a given set of circumstances. I'm fairly good at it, myself; when people tell me of an encounter with some rude individual, I immediately go into "Oh, man, if I'd have been

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-62815110827630441542009-09-01T00:01:00.002-05:002009-09-01T00:09:49.427-05:00Yawn

This is the third post I started today. Both of them got out of hand fairly fast; the first one bogged down by details, the second one just too damn hard to write, and the effort has worn me out. I'm going to bed. It will probably seem strange to say it, but I am mostly happy right now; it's just that being happy is a tangly thing for me, and talking about my current happiness brings up memories

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-15169104182484474622009-08-20T12:49:00.003-05:002009-08-31T17:04:59.320-05:00Yupdates

8/31/09: Note: I thought I posted this, like, DAYS ago, and only the recent "Hey Gladys! New post?" alert from Miz made me realize that I hadn't. So here, in its incomplete entirety, is the Post You Didn't See...Since there seem to be long strings trailing from a few of my recent posts, I figure I'll just toss out a couple of updates.First things first: Eatmisery's blog is once again in the land

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-73835264567784604142009-08-18T21:15:00.002-05:002009-08-18T21:33:41.381-05:00And Furthermore, Bugger All MY Problems...

...because one of the Frequent Flyers of my comments section is in some SERIOUS hot water, entirely through ZERO fault of her own!!Eatmisery's blog, Comments From the Peanut Gallery, has been unfairly labelled by Google/Blogger as an "attack site". (Link to the particulars here...) Apparently, she has a gadget or a link on her page to a geneology site, a bloglink site, and (what I am assuming to

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-13549465728165774702009-08-18T12:00:00.003-05:002009-08-18T14:59:02.042-05:00I Don't Even Have a Title For This One.

In the course of one of their "status updates", I was referred, by one of my various FaceSpaceFriends, to this blog: www.inandaround60655.blogspot.com . This is the post in question; reading the comments will be especially instructive (and/or bring you to the point of reverse digestion, as it very nearly did for me). And the fact that the original diatribe was written by someone who refers to

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-90790585869198581702009-08-17T19:25:00.002-05:002009-08-17T20:52:01.357-05:00It WAS Gonna Be a Comment, But Now It's A Post.

Well...Regarding "charity" vs "enabling", I'm going to have to say one thing first: It's become apparent here that I'm dealing with two entirely separate but grievously interlinked situations. While Tim is absolutely irreedeemable in terms of work ethic, Squeaky is a whoooole different critter. She has unfortunately chosen to hitch her wagon to ENTIRELY the wrong horse, but that's her problem and

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-40254203663517446272009-08-15T14:22:00.004-05:002009-08-15T22:58:30.258-05:00This Is Why I Don't...

This is why I don't post about exciting news until after it's an accomplished fact.For the past two weeks, Squeaky has been over the moon about an old friend of hers and how this girl was "saving her life", how she now "has (her) life together" and all the rest. The source of all this excitement was to happen on Monday, when she and Tim were to board a bus to the southern part of the state, where

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-82487465308537344512009-08-06T21:51:00.003-05:002009-08-06T22:19:21.756-05:00Time For A New Post...

Yup. Sure is!!And in a few days, I may have actual concrete news to put in one (hint: it involves a drastic reduction in the head-count here in Gladystopia--but since it's not an accomplished fact yet, I refuse to get my hopes up. We've been down THIS road before!)In other news:My delightful employers (may a trillion centipedes take up residence in their sock-drawer) have decided, as a "temporary

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-20802376281046579662009-07-17T18:45:00.003-05:002009-07-17T19:46:41.477-05:00Profanity Approaching...

My boss needs to eat a box of dicks and die.If I knew for certain that another job was waiting; if I knew for certain that I could live on my own for long enough to get another job; if the benefits weren't so good and all those other things that people say when they're eating their own guts out but can't summon the courage to just make the fucking leap...if all those things weren't true, I would

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-79926276424419152002009-07-10T22:26:00.003-05:002009-07-11T01:53:37.355-05:00I Am Not Handling This World Very Well

...and for the first time in a long time, it's got nothing to do with my darling roommates. (My darling roommates are themselves a topic, but we have been down that road so thoroughly and so often that even I am weary of the discussion. I did, however, reiterate to Tim this afternoon that there was simply no way that a newborn was coming here, so he and Squeaky--separately or together--needed to

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-23420937827374252032009-07-02T22:42:00.005-05:002009-07-03T16:07:46.898-05:00A Response To Eatmisery

Background info: I came across this comment tonight, from one of my longest-time readers, Eatmisery. She's a blogger I respect, and a fellow Chicagoan as well, and I take her words seriously because, for the most part, she's generally on the mark with what she says. In this case, though I understand her thinking, I felt I had to reply in such a way that I could, hopefully, show how "this time is

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-92168677209048001992009-06-30T17:59:00.003-05:002009-06-30T19:01:47.272-05:00Finally Pinned It Down

I have now realized what it is about Squeaky that drives me MOST batshit crazy-go-nuts.There are, as I think you all can agree, two possible classes of response to the question "How are you?" We have Group One, which is "I'm fine, and how are you?" There are, of course, many variants and degrees of this answer, trending all the way up to "I'm blessed and hope you are the same," and all the way

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-48025171345023096662009-06-17T22:55:00.004-05:002009-06-17T23:30:02.543-05:00Important Facts, June 2009

1. Birthdays are alternately sucky and awesome. The "pondering the passage of time, the wasted years and my own eventual death" part = sucky. The "really awesome present from Mom, upon which this blog entry is being written from the privacy of my own room AND wirelessly" = awesome. Also, not being in the hospital for my birthday, a la 2005 = also awesome.2. My boss is a....no, don't want to be

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-4772963431633039382009-05-30T15:31:00.003-05:002009-05-30T15:57:23.157-05:00Moving Right Along...

In the interest of not having to defend myself, which is one of those EXTREMELY non-enjoyable tasks which got old almost immediately after I became old enough to hold an opinion, I will say only the following: A conversation was had; issues were cleared up. Most plans have been suspended pending various people's unrelated decisions. And I still totally adore their cat. (Not QUITE as much as my

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-58537746123841914332009-05-23T14:51:00.002-05:002009-05-23T16:09:41.804-05:00Circling

I am not having an easy time of things, mah peeps.Okay, fine, YES it's spring and YES to some degree that makes me happy; but spring carries with it a certain burden of expectations, and if there's one thing I can't live up to anymore, it's expectations.I was watching a movie the other night on TCM, and Robert Osborne (Mr. Voice of TCM, and what they'll do for a host when HE's gone I'm sure I

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-85935530444135592822009-05-23T11:52:00.001-05:002009-05-23T11:52:09.571-05:00

This is a test post. If you can read this, then my awesome new cellphonetoy is even awesomer than I thought.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-73553663539237368512009-05-09T15:48:00.002-05:002009-05-09T16:31:48.333-05:00Catastrophic Decompression at 50,000 Feet

Recapping, for those innocent of this blog: Tim, my male roommate, and Squeaky, my female roommate, are now expecting their first child together. (It's actually the second child for each, but as each of their other-parents-of-the-first-child won't let either of them see their respective offspring, I guess we're consigning them to the category of "starter children" and walking away until the wee

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-19651026396929012642009-05-03T09:07:00.000-05:002009-05-03T21:46:42.335-05:00Ten Thousand Brain Cells--In Memoriam

Paraphrase: A Conversation with Squeaky"Pregnant. Pregnant preg pregnant, nauseous pregnant pregnant, pregnant pregnant. Pregnant, preg pregnant, preggers preg preggo preg gestate. Pregnant? Tim's an asshole, pregnant pregnant, asshole not-enough-attention, pregnant pregnant, preg preg McBoobs-Hurt. Tim's an asshole. Preggo preg preggo, pregnant pregnant preggers, preg hungry nauseous nauseous,

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-53926642102369944992009-04-18T10:07:00.003-05:002009-04-18T14:17:07.741-05:00You Are Here. You Probably Ought To Think About That.

So, um....yeah.WackyWackyWerld, aka Gladystopia, has done some of its expected and usual things. Tim has been playing Floor-Hopper, rotating between my living room floor, his friend Chuck's living room floor, and whatever it is he sleeps in at Squeaky's place-with-the-roommate. But that pool of potential stopping-grounds decreased by one the other day; apparently between the two of them, they

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-90835207631674539032009-04-08T19:31:00.001-05:002009-04-08T19:32:37.552-05:00Summing Up Everything You Need To Know In Two Words:

Squeaky's pregnant.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-68926629821449022472009-04-01T21:11:00.001-05:002009-04-01T21:11:36.314-05:00Truncated For Your Health

Either I am a rotten blogger, or I have the most boring life EVER.I am on 100% Supreme Autopilot, mostly. The wildest things have gotten in the past month was last weekend, when Tim and I had plans to go visit a friend of his who has totally wanted to meet me, allegedly, for some very long time; potential-boyfriend noises were being made, unless I'm completely over-interpreting things. I haven't

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-46482863032051002832009-03-19T01:10:00.003-05:002009-03-19T23:10:52.051-05:00Birthdays

JP would have turned 40 today.It's strange, being in this place; in some ways this feels like it could be one of the more vital times I've had in the past few years. I've made contact with some old friends--re-establishing some sort of framework of a past for myself; I'm moving toward meeting some new people--some of them friends of Tim and Squeaky, who have been wanting to meet me for a long

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-70355041445480747992009-03-17T19:49:00.002-05:002009-03-17T20:14:39.346-05:00Slurp

I have no excuse for my silence; I have merely been sucked into the Vortex of Facebook. It's Tim's fault, him and that cute little farming-game applet he got me hooked on; then I found my grade-school's Class of 1984 group, which led me to a treasure trove of people I didn't used to like, who actually grew up into decent people. (Though I will say, one of the people who friended me was a HUGE

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-22995498382231222372009-03-06T21:00:00.003-06:002009-03-06T22:48:36.111-06:00Pointy Little Whirlpools

A few weeks ago, while roaming Facebook, I looked up my old high-school classmates. Most of the names were just people I sorta remembered; one, though, was someone who was once among my best friends. We stopped talking our sophomore year of college, when she and another friend came down to visit me and a few others from our class. They were staying in my apartment for the weekend, and they wanted

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-78848464079224628592009-02-25T22:44:00.003-06:002009-02-25T22:50:11.558-06:00Or I Could Just Smoke Crystal Meth, Instead.

I have found the most ridiculously-addictive thing in the entire universe, even more addictive than the little shortbread cookies with a dollop of fudge frosting that they sell at the Dominick's by my Saturday office--and that's saying something.I'm sure you have all heard of Sudoku; this is sort of Sudoku-like, except it involves actual math. Now, for those of you who think that sounds like as

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-91770941395285934292009-02-25T20:21:00.003-06:002009-02-25T20:39:54.592-06:00Cognitive Dissonance, or Why I'm Updating My Resume

Every day I talk to people who are my friends, my family, whatever--people in my real, non-work life. Many of these people think I'm smart, or talented, or capable, or creative, or independent, or clear-thinking, or whatever. Some people even think I'm more than one of the above. They know me as the person who, faced with a problem, will come up with a solution; the person who can cook anything,

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-90336113555604333482009-02-05T23:55:00.000-06:002009-02-07T16:29:41.040-06:00Mid-Winter

You know spring is coming when the countdown calendar on NASCAR.com says "14 days to Daytona!!!" I'm going to have to say: things are...improving. Not "good" yet, exactly, but improving. I've had some major realizations recently--I've had plenty of time for major realizations, since I was at home sick for two days with the evil cold that has been circulating around my office. (It's somewhat

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-90057106641731700992009-01-24T15:13:00.002-06:002009-01-24T16:08:20.040-06:00Cartoon Sound Effects

I really need cartoon sound effects in this post, to give you a general idea of how insane things have been. Like the Wile E Coyote going-over-the-cliff noise--that would be ideal.I was in the process of writing my post-inauguration post when Tim and Squeaky arrived. They are still here. (Well, "there", actually, as my current "here" is at work, and they are--mercifully--not "here". But they -are

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-15090150714480782922009-01-10T21:36:00.003-06:002009-01-10T22:56:25.276-06:00Drama Slowing Down

Tim got out of the hospital Wednesday noontime and promptly, per Squeaky, disappeared. Throughout the six days he was hospitalized, I listened to Squeaky making it HER ordeal. SHE had it bad because SHE missed him. She essentially came out and said something to the effect of "I mean, he's locked up, but it's just as bad for ME because he's not here!" So she was just rabid to have him come "home"

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-59988088391863798342009-01-06T00:15:00.003-06:002009-01-06T00:46:50.022-06:00Update: The Saga Continues

Tim gets out Wednesday.Meanwhile, Squeaky is driving me Bonkers Q. Batcrap, calling me every...single...solitary...time she talks to Tim on the phone, or thinks she should talk to Tim on the phone, or wonders if she ought to CALL Tim, or wondering if Tim is going to call HER...and that's saying nothing of what she's doing to poor Tim. Apparently she's calling him when she has nothing to say. Now,

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-60226227445783981912009-01-02T22:25:00.004-06:002009-01-02T23:51:40.113-06:00Cross Off THAT Resolution...

Tim is in the substance-abuse unit at a local mental-health center. I just talked to Squeaky for an hour (and my respect for THAT little girl is ramped up to a fairly-amazing height, considering our history) and things are not looking too spectacular for Tim at the moment. Apparently, after having "the charcoal thing" (Squeaky's description) done to his stomach ("He wasn't real happy about that,"

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-67360799548097659082009-01-02T03:03:00.003-06:002009-01-02T03:17:13.045-06:00Resolution #1

My first resolution for 2009: No more drama.It took me, granted, 27 hours of the new year to codify this one; actually, 26 hours and 48 minutes, which was how long after midnight on January 1 that Squeaky called me to tell me that Tim was "eating handfuls of pills"--Benadryls and Advils, before he started going through the OTHER roommate's pills (the 61-year-old guy, who I'm sure is on some

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-43387249319521506042008-12-31T23:36:00.002-06:002008-12-31T23:56:59.983-06:00Another Year Gone By

I'm not getting worked up about New Year's Eve this year. I've done some housework, ordered a pizza, talked to Tim (about which more in a minute), folded laundry...nothing special, nothing emotional, nothing really even other-than-ordinary. I have some resolutions but they're sort of works-in-progress; some of them, I think, may be too big to fit into one designated night.Anyway, about the Tim

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-54113855472897013002008-12-29T18:02:00.002-06:002008-12-29T18:08:09.811-06:00No, Really--I'm SERIOUS.

Well, that was a heckuva holiday.First off—I was one of the two last living bodies to flee my workplace, at 6:30 PM on Christmas Eve. Now. Let’s look at this through the distant lens of logic, which so seldom is found in my office. My work is dependent on a stream of work tickets. These tickets are provided by the first-line phone support staff, who receive requests for assistance via both phone

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-28199658726766702832008-12-24T16:12:00.002-06:002008-12-24T16:25:39.235-06:00Merry...Something.

I hope all of you are having a good holiday. Me, not so much. I'm stuck working Christmas Eve til 6:30 PM even though there's NO ONE else in the building except me and the few others in my department who share my bad luck. And yesterday, FedEx delivered the package containing my mom's Christmas present--a mini-DVD player--and by the time I got home, someone had stolen it. Ho ho ho, right? And of

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-42688054303729206312008-12-09T19:02:00.003-06:002008-12-09T19:10:25.643-06:00Holy Moly Guacamole....

Duuuuuuuuuuuuuude.They arrested the Governor.Let me type that again:They ARRESTED. The fucking GOVERNOR!!! of the ENTIRE STATE!!!!!Just exactly how dense do you have to be: you're elected as a REFORM governor, because the LAST guy is in jail for official corruption; you KNOW--because EVERYONE IS TELLING YOU--that you're under investigation for all sorts of various shenanigans; and STILL you allow

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-2207282756344182512008-12-04T22:43:00.002-06:002008-12-04T23:26:53.044-06:00Oh, Yeah--I Forgot...

(See, this is what happens when I don't post in a long time. Things get overlooked.)I didn't mention the BIG FREAKING DEVELOPMENT:Tim and Squeaky are mostly-broken-up and (shocker) once again mostly-homeless. AND: Betty (Tim's friend who used to be a bartender at his favorite bar til she got fired several months ago) is apparently travelling with them. The order of events, as I understand it,

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-81613019583453276672008-11-29T20:12:00.005-06:002008-12-04T22:31:16.059-06:00One of My Weird Fixations

Most people who know me well, know that I have an odd range of interests. Stephen King, in a foreword to one of his books, explained it pretty well--it's like everyone has a series of filters in their heads, which all your thoughts and all outside input has to go through. Some ideas pass through the filters and other ideas get caught in them. And what catches in my filter, might pass right

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-80499354818339154142008-11-27T01:02:00.006-06:002008-11-29T20:12:18.224-06:00Thanksgiving, a Wee Bit Late

Let's see...You know, I don't know what it is :::coff:::lack of meds:::coff::: but I'm not at my most thankful this year. I mean, I'm not UNgrateful--I've certainly got nothing to complain of (well, except the Itch, which is still here, at which the allergist has finally shrugged her shoulders and suggested a dermatologist, and which seems to respond to exactly NONE of the various lotions,

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-36121733899631237362008-11-21T21:36:00.002-06:002008-11-21T21:46:13.985-06:00Confession...

I am SO JEALOUS of those little Obama girls. Also terrified for them--the possibilities of "what could go wrong" actually keep me awake at night--but if the worst DOESN'T happen? What a life they're going to have...Can you imagine?? Besides which, they're so damn pretty!!! Either one of them could grow up to be a model, if they weren't already going to grow up as the President's daughters. I

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-82919116090973509532008-11-19T22:52:00.002-06:002008-11-19T23:30:19.479-06:00The Annoying of the Sick and Other Unwelcome Sacraments

So Tuesday morning, instead of going back to the allergist as scheduled, I called my mother, who was supposed to take me to the appointment, to tell her "don't bother--I'm not going." Since about Friday, I'd been feeling less-than-100%; by Monday, most of my focus was needed to keep my stomach contents in place, and by the wee hours of Tuesday morning, I knew it wasn't getting any better.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-30862085706808729642008-11-15T17:35:00.002-06:002008-11-15T17:37:39.422-06:00Why Don't They Use Scotch Tape?

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-89819741496375902412008-11-15T02:29:00.003-06:002008-11-15T03:02:13.341-06:00One of Two Things Is Happening Here

Either a) I really, REALLY need to be on meds again, as in "more than even I suspect", or b) the human race at large is devolving into an irredeemable pack of heartless fuckwads.Normally, I'd put the probability ratio of the two choices at about 50-50, or maybe 60-40. But in the case of the item that inspired this post, I'm going to have to rethink my optimism and call it 90-10, if that.Here is

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-38527071628532139492008-11-13T22:18:00.000-06:002008-11-13T22:23:56.270-06:00Something That Inexplicably Pisses Me Off Way More Than It Ought To

Okay. So all over the news, there's this link to a story about a former American Idol contestant who drove to Paula Abdul's house and killed herself, apparently. Her name was Paula Goodspeed, and she apparently was one of the not-so-good auditions from the 2006 season.I don't remember her. I don't remember 99.999% of the bad auditions; in fact, I'd say I remember less than 75% of the actual

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-15272864402396270262008-11-12T18:59:00.004-06:002008-11-12T20:50:26.559-06:00I'd Prefer the Itch

I will attribute to my current lack of psych-meds the fact that I hate pretty much everything and everyone, right at the moment.Without my non-altered state to blame, I would have to say it's my job that's thoroughly soured me on humanity right now; that, and the weather, and my loneliness, and the total lack of anything approaching "fun" in my life. I'm SERIOUSLY pissed at work, which for me is

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-42624585762907958912008-11-04T22:10:00.002-06:002008-11-04T22:22:47.079-06:00History

I would have expected myself to get a little more grandiloquent and pompous tonight. Finally, finally, the last eight years of bullshit are over; that alone would be enough, but that it would unfold the way it has....What could I possibly add? Honestly, the weather in Chicago said it all today; sunny and bright, with the changing leaves gleaming in the sun and the cool breeze coming from the lake

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-67702388563078691512008-11-02T20:09:00.003-06:002008-11-02T20:14:38.543-06:00Diagnosis (Totally Specious)

I've figured it out.I've figured out my itching, my misery, my queasy tummy, my abject exhaustion, my total anomie:I have American Electionosis.All the cruelty, horribleness, meanspiritedness, disregard of fact, reliance on innuendo, ugliness, and generalized putrid behaviour surrounding this election has taken on a physical manifestation: namely, all the stuff I've had for the past month or

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-82333960224974933402008-11-01T19:35:00.003-05:002008-11-01T23:03:08.832-05:00Itchy.

The Itch, which improved for several days, has returned. This is probably due to the allergist's prohibition: no antihistamines for three days before my appointment. As I was feeling utterly hideous anyway--to the point of taking two days off work and pretty much sleeping the clock around--I just said "to hell with it" and stopped taking everything. My body spent the better part of today kicking

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-58880381808479018032008-10-30T20:54:00.003-05:002008-10-30T21:13:16.817-05:00Malaise

I actually had written most of a post about today, and how I'm trying not to give in so much to the anniversary blues...Unfortunately it turned into exactly that, and I'm just tired of it. I'm in...a "rut" doesn't describe it, really; it's more like "a Chicago-area main-street pothole in March after a full winter of freeze-thaw cycles and a bi-weekly parade of semi trucks." I hate that JP is gone

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-50399391055130686132008-10-29T22:52:00.004-05:002008-11-22T21:44:09.330-06:00Fortuitous Itchiness

Maybe the main thing I need to get through my late-October doldrums is to find some way to render my entire body a giant, itching, writhing mass of nerve-endings and unhappy skin-cells. (Yes, the Itch is still here. I thought it was getting better, and I suppose on one level it sorta is--but it's certainly not 100% better! I finally caved and made an appointment with the allergist for next week;

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-47916201872255880902008-10-27T19:57:00.003-05:002008-10-27T20:06:12.685-05:00Update: The Itchy and Scratchy Gladys Show

Thank heavens, the rash is leaving me.This is probably due in part to the THREE major prescriptions I have been taking, plus handfuls of Benadryl and the occasional Advil just for kicks. I'm taking prednisone, Zantac (apparently there are histamines generated in the digestive tract? Who knew?), and some super-duper anti-itch medicine which doesn't seem to do much at all. I'm also completely off

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-82444156519412429032008-10-23T00:08:00.003-05:002008-10-23T00:23:35.257-05:00Rash Acts

Have I mentioned AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! ?It's taken over. Everywhere EXCEPT my face, my hands, my head, and my girlybits are covered in hives. Little bitty grainy-looking hives, but hives. And holy FUCK, the itch. Tuesday morning I just couldn't take it anymore and walked over to the Emergency Room. They fed me a couple of Benadryl, took my history, fed me a

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-49364431929911128392008-10-18T17:56:00.002-05:002008-10-18T18:52:09.148-05:00AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friends, I am in serious trouble here.I am about one nanosecond from a full-fledged attack of the Screaming Meemees.You see, I have An Itch.A couple of days ago...okay, closer now to a week, really...I noticed that my ankles and my lower calves were itchy. You know how, if you tie your shoes too tight and the socks kinda squish into your skin and when you take the shoes and socks off at the end

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-5760953556922799212008-10-18T04:09:00.003-05:002008-10-18T04:26:33.169-05:00A Logic Problem For You

If I sent you the following in an e-mail on Wednesday afternoon...."...Please make sure George Blow's computer gets checked over AS SOON AS IT GETS THERE and please get it back to him tomorrow; this is hugely important because he's been waiting for it for a long time and I told him he'd have it Thursday at the latest..."Would anything in that message lead you, when asked on Thursday afternoon, "

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-31765215946530049472008-10-15T02:44:00.004-05:002008-10-15T03:30:00.580-05:00More

Thank you all for all the hugs and good advice. It's always good to have like-minded people around; it helps me feel like I'm not standing alone in shallow water with a great big wave heading dead at me.......like that.There are so many things I want and need to do to finally build the life I want to have; I'm overwhelmed, a little, but I'm also excited. I wish there were more hours in the day; I

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-77136436264251834052008-10-14T01:22:00.002-05:002008-10-14T02:28:11.094-05:00Very Interesting

So I've been reading all your responses to my last posts, and I've got to say, this is one heck of an intersting conversation for me. Am I seeing a counselor? Yes. She's one of the main singers in the "have the surgery!" chorus; she's convinced that I'd be much less-depressed if I lost weight and thus, liked myself better. The problem with that, though, is what seems to be my underlying "logic":

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-83719665849242387682008-10-11T15:29:00.003-05:002008-10-12T21:49:18.257-05:00Continuation

So: back to my rant.The story thus far: When I was young, all I heard about from my mom was how I needed to watch my weight. How I was already too heavy. How I shouldn't eat X, Y, or Z--regardless of the fact that those were foods she had chosen, portioned, and prepared. Vegetables--in fact, anything vaguely wholesome--were a source of battle--and anyone who's read my writing for very long knows

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-68486579188051563422008-10-11T01:36:00.003-05:002008-10-11T02:07:18.655-05:00Follow-up

So on the bus on the way home from downtown, I was thinking (or trying to--there was this trio of friends, two girls and a guy, and the girls had two of the WORST laughs I've ever heard in my life, and they were having one of those nights where EVERYTHING is funny)...Anyway, I was trying to figure out what, exactly, I think is wrong with me. I don't mean little details, like "I'm disorganized" or

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-76367947199487356282008-10-10T20:55:00.003-05:002008-10-10T21:22:19.543-05:00Untitled

I'm having a bad night.My work schedule has been shifted for the next couple of weeks, and so I'm downtown every evening til late. The city at night is different than the city in the daytime. During the day you know people are on business, or for the most part you can at least convince yourself of that. But very few people, especially on a Friday night, come downtown for any businesslike purpose.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-59480644922506647822008-10-07T19:43:00.002-05:002008-10-07T20:37:24.124-05:00October

This is my least-favorite month.I hate that it is; it used to be one of my favorites, second only to May, but after thirteen years I haven't been able to shake my resentment of this month. It's beautiful, it's beautiful, it's beautiful and then it bites me in the ass, every single year. I wake up in the morning and the sun is shining and the air is crisp and the birds are singing and the leaves

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-65490818212187959872008-10-06T20:03:00.002-05:002008-10-06T20:05:55.127-05:00Chicago Has a Sad, Part Two

Yeah, I have to admit, I sorta saw this one coming. Or maybe it's just Chicago Post-Seasonal Baseball Neuropathy--we've all been kicked so hard and so often in October that we really don't feel it too much anymore.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-50700452092937590092008-10-05T00:47:00.003-05:002008-10-05T00:59:23.735-05:00Chicago Has a Sad, Part One

It would have been so nice, to do it this year--the symmetry of it, the whole "Team of Destiny" motif finally carried to conclusion...Of course, 101 is a nice number too.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-39945200287642473242008-10-03T21:17:00.003-05:002008-10-03T21:21:04.155-05:00The Bailout

Question on the news: When Congress gives the banks $700B of tax money, what will be the benefits to the average American?The average American, says the news guy, will find that it's easier to qualify for a loan than it would have been without the bailout. Unless Congress passed the bailout, banks would only want to lend to the safest borrowers. WITH the bailout, banks will be more relaxed about

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-53009263338196608792008-09-22T23:41:00.005-05:002008-09-26T20:50:53.471-05:00A "Good" Busy....

...uh, no.Not a "good" busy; not a "bad" busy, either. (A "bad" busy, I guess, would be....what, heroin-related? That's the worst "busy" I can imagine for myself, right now, and it's definitely NOT the case; then again, the only "good" busy I could imagine would be a whole lot wilder and wackier than anything I'm currently experiencing. So...it's an AVERAGE "busy"--how's that?) The job--which I

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-70584067452598613122008-09-20T22:47:00.001-05:002008-09-20T22:48:38.873-05:00Short Form

I am well.More to follow.Really, I'm fine; just been busy.All is well, though.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-39212092074594924452008-09-04T20:44:00.004-05:002008-09-05T19:22:38.001-05:00Okay, So.

Do you think people can change?(Do -I- think people can change?)If people can't change, then what does that say about the things I've done?If people can change, what does that say for anyone who believes they can't?If I believe they can't, what does that say for me?Maybe -some- people can change, and others can't.If that's true, which one am I?And how do I know?By my past actions?But my past

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-86534279041160805292008-08-26T20:40:00.008-05:002008-08-27T00:04:47.934-05:00I Am Going To Kick SO Many People's Ass,

Tonight's candidates for the Oh My God, You Totally Have To Be Fucking Kidding Me Awards:1. Mom.Normally, in the grand scheme, I call Mom at about 6:50. Gives me time to feed the cats, open the mail, and pee. Everything else can wait.Tonight: 6:45. I open the door. Feed the cats. Pee. Call mom. "bzz-bzz-bzz" Okay. Mom is talking to...someone.7:00. I sit down at the desk with my fresh cocktail.

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-37921263631072990162008-08-25T19:56:00.003-05:002008-08-25T21:34:20.639-05:00Happy Things

Okay. Since I am personally now BORED by my own ranty-panty-pissy-pity-party, I shall move on to Many Happier Things. Because--believe it or not?--they're STILL THERE.But first of all, in fairness, I owe Firefly an apology.From that last post, one would think that all she does is bitch me out for my bad choices, which could not in a billion years be further from the truth. I mean that. We are the

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5831178.post-74856232982287535142008-08-23T20:36:00.007-05:002008-08-24T21:57:41.650-05:00Well THIS Certainly Seems Familiar...

After posting this late last night, then taking it down because I felt guilty for all my self-pity, I'm putting it back up. Because...why not, you know?You know, the fun of hoping someone has changed? Is in hoping that they've REALLY changed.CR? Not so much. (Anyone for an "I told you so"? Because I'm open to them.)So the other day...(Firefly, sweetie, could you go read something else for a few

Gladyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01088785537045114419noreply@blogger.com3