Holy Crap!

Division I football could learn a lesson or two from these guys.

{hat tip: This Goes to Eleven, via Ace}

Posted by: Kathy at 03:19 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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You know, sometimes I just don't get people.

It's one thing to look at the actions of someone like, say, Pol Pot or Hitler or Stalin and to realize that you're never going to wrap your head around their actions; that what they've done is just so beyond the pale of normal moral human behavior that there is no possible way to understand it. So you hold these things in your memory as an example of the extraordinary, so that when another totalitarian, genocidal madman takes charge in another part of the world, you'll at least have some yardstick to measure their behavior.

But for everyday, average immorality by people you thought you knew? How, precisely, do you measure that? What sort of yardstick do you use? Can you compare them to a criminal written up in the newspaper? Is their crime better or worse than some random individual you don't know? Can you judge them the same? Should you?

I don't know.

The problem is this: there's an estate at stake---and it belongs to the husband's grandfather. Grandpa's estate now includes Grandma's estate, because she passed on earlier this year. This estate might be substantial, but we have no way of knowing---and we, meaning the husband and myself, don't really care. It's none of our business. In any case, it's probably less substantial than certain potential beneficiaries think it is, just because they've had their whole lives to work it up in their minds. They seem to be of the opinion they'll have it made in the shade when they receive their inheritance, but the reality is that they probably won't. There will be a windfall, yes, but it won't be what they think it will be. Grandpa is ill, and is now being moved to a long-term care facility, because he can no longer care for himself. Grandpa has been ill for some time and hasn't been himself since Grandma died in April. His colon cancer has reappeared, and he's refused treatment. He also has a very bad case of aspergillus, which is a fungal infection that affects his breathing. The doctors gave him six months to live in January. We've known for a long time that the vultures, aka certain potential beneficiaries of the estate, have moved in and are circling. Given their behavior, you would have to be extremely naive to think otherwise. They've tried to manipulate an eldery, ill man, who just lost his wife of sixty years, who has been fortunate that at least some of his family is looking out for his best interests and have thwarted these manuevers.

What's surprising us today---if such a thing is possible, given the circumstances---is that, if everything is as it seems, the vultures might have already moved in to feast on a still-living Grandpa.

There was an emergency this week that required Grandpa to be hospitalized and the in-laws drove over from their residence in Texas to be with him. In the course of their visit, the father-in-law came across a piece of paper in Grandpa's house with Grandpa's signature on every line, like someone was practicing how to forge it, the forgery getting better and more "legitimate" with every line. The first question that comes to mind when confronted with this is, "why would they need to do this?" Is the electricity on the verge of being shut off because Grandpa forgot to pay the bill and a check needs to be written because he's too weak to do it? Nope. Grandpa, even in his debilitated state, would rather die than let an electric bill go unpaid, hence he's set it up so that the mother-in-law has durable power of attorney and she pays the bills when she visits, which is often. It's pretty obvious that Grandpa wouldn't bother practicing his signature, either, even if he feels he might be "losing himself" and would try to regain that by the simple act of signing his name over and over again---he's simply not the type for that kind of rumination; it would never occur to him. There's only one possible, and reasonable, conclusion one could come to: that someone was getting ready to commit fraud.

Since Grandpa has very few visitors, there are two potential suspects in this potential caper. One, however, is too lazy to plan anything of the sort, let alone actually muster the will to follow through---they'd rather play golf. The other stands out because they've gotten very greedy in recent months; they've borrowed things, like trucks, and then didn't return them; but, mostly, it's that they're desperate for money. They're always desperate for money, and they have a spouse whose family has committed a lot of unseemly, and criminal, actions. This person isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so it's not surprising that they'd leave the sheet there, for all and sundry to see, making the very stupid assumption that people always practice their own signature, many times, on a single sheet of paper and leave it lying around their house. Really. This would be a perfectly rational conclusion for this person. They're a dolt, and thankfully, that works in our favor. There have been other indicators, but this is the first piece of potentially damning evidence that would seem to point to the potential planning of outright fraud on the behalf of this individual. There might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this sheet of paper, but I doubt it.

The person I'm referring to here, to put it bluntly, is a ghoul, and that's been clear for a very long time. But it's up in the air as to whether or not they have committed fraud. Nothing seems out of place, so it seems as if the in-laws might have been tipped off before anything actually happened, but we're not sure about that. Nonetheless, defensive manuevers are being taken as I write this. What's surprising is that we always knew that it was going to be a free-for-all when the grandparents passed, we just didn't think it was going to start before that time and that someone might commit fraud to get a leg up on the competition.

I just don't get these people. I really don't. They have acted for a very long time as if they are due something. In every aspect of their life, it is about what is due to them, just for the fine act of breathing the air, rather than what they can contribute. They're takers. And now it's possible that they're trying to take even more than what they were due. Just because they think they're due.

My family has never been big on inheritances. There was nothing when my grandparents died, other than treasured keepsakes---and very few of those, to be sure. There will be nothing when my parents die because my mother, who fully realizes she's not immortal, is making a concerted effort to give everything away before they pass on, because they don't want anyone fighting over their stuff when they do pass on. We've put our names on the bottom of the furniture that we want, because she's asked us to, so that we'll get it when that unhappy event comes to pass. It is my mother's dearest wish that her children not turn into a pack of dogs, fighting over the scraps, when she goes, so she's doing her best to make sure that doesn't happen. She's seen this happen before, with people she's known, so she's doing her best to short circuit it ever happening. Given this, I just don't get the whole inheritance thing. I really don't. I have to think that I'll be like my mother when my time comes. But it's apparent that not everyone is like that. They want their children and grandchildren to inherit the proceeds of their lifetime's work. I suppose that's fine, but why would you do that when it's readily apparent that it'll never be enough for those people? That they will simply not appreciate whatever you give them and that they'll always want more.

Jeez. I just re-read this entry and it all seems so much worse when it's written out. {insert shudder here} It's one thing to shake your head when the latest story of ghoulish, yet harmless, behavior is repeated to you, but it's completely another when it appears that one of those ghouls might have crossed the line in a big and bad way.

I'd appreciate it if, you've had a similar situation in your extended relations, you could pass along any helpful hints for dealing with this sort of thing that we might not have thought of. I don't think anyone's planning on calling the police until there's certain evidence of fraud, and even then they might not do it because it's something you'd prefer not to advertise to the world. I don't know. I can only guess at what I would do in such a circumstance, and that would not be what my in-laws would do. But if you've got any helpful information you'd like to pass along, we'd be happy to receive it.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:42 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 1534 words, total size 9 kb.

In no particular order, per usual...

• I wonder if I'm ever going to have the brain power to put together an essay again, instead of just posting these little bullets of randomness. Sigh.
• See what I mean about sunsets?
  

  How could you miss something so phenomenal as this because you were too busy watching the news? Particularly when this view is right outside your door? You can make time for this. Really and truly you can.

  And if you can't, well, you're a flaming idiot.

  The husband's shop just obtained a new large scale plotter/printer. We're thinking that one would look cool on the wall. And the fact that the shop now has a new printer has nothing to do with it.

• Have I mentioned I returned home to a brand spankin' new bathroom?
  

  For this, we paid no rent for the month of October. The husband actually lived here while there was no plumbing. Don't ask how he managed. You really don't want to know.

  Of course, since this is the Cake Eater Pad, there are a few problems remaining to be fixed. The contractor, who gave the husband headaches galore, did a shitty job with the caulking and silicone. There are holes in the caulking in the tub, where he missed, and they're worse than what was there before, so that's saying something. They pulled out the window frame and when they replaced it, they didn't bother to putty up the nail holes, so there are a bunch of pockmarks where there shouldn't be. The grout line between the tub and the new tile floor looks like it was put in place by a two-year-old with limited Play-Doh experience. The door frame, which now holds the old door in a pocket frame, is completely unfinished. The paint job is pretty crappy. Have I mentioned that there are holes cut into the ceiling for a new light fixture and for the HVAC vent---but that there's no light fixture or vent in place? I could go on, but you get the gist. There are lots of little things---and some biggies---that need attention, in other words. But the thing that pisses me off the most is that, somehow, the bathroom is bigger now. Why does this piss me off? You wouldn't think it would, particularly if you'd been in the previous hidey-hole bathroom. But it does. Because we actually have less storage now than we did before.

  Sigh.

  See, the contractor was supposed to start the day after I left for Florida, the fourth of October. He didn't actually start until the 9th. The demo went fine, like it usually does in any similar situation, because everyone loves deconstructionism, but then the guy started running into problems. And then he kicked off early that Friday to go pheasant hunting. The thing was supposed to be done last Tuesday. It wasn't actually done until this past Friday, the 19th. And, according to an email we got yesterday from the landlord, he went waaaay over budget. Hence we don't have the storage cabinet above the toilet that we were promised. Nor have the towel racks/hooks been installed. See that bit at the end of the shower? Well, that's supposed to be cut out and shelves are supposed to be installed. We kind of figured that that would have happened before they put the drywall in and painted it over, but nooooooo. Yeah. Quality is, apparently, job one with this dude. And the poor landlord is tapped out, so it's not going to get done before December, when he visits again and can do it himself.

  In the meantime, I have a box of assorted shit from one of the old cabinets that's still sitting on the floor in the bedroom. I had to clear the linen closet out yesterday to make room for all the other assorted shit that was still lying around. That vanity is pretty neat until you realize that it holds less than our old medicine cabinet did---but I had to shove all of our daily necessities under there, nonetheless, because that's the only place I could put them.

  Sigh. Why this shit always happens to us, I don't really know. We're a magnet for construction related problems. If we ever have our own house and we need to rehab it, I've decided I'm going to get the whole project insured by Lloyd's of London, so I'll at least make some coin on all of these delays/fuck-ups. Because they're gonna happen---might as well be prepared.

• In hair news, I should probably tell you that I have some now.

  All that fuzz morphed into something more. I have real, honest to goodness hair, and enough of it that, when I wake up in the morning, bits of it stick out! I never thought I'd be excited to say that I have bed head, but I am.

  I don't know if/when this stuff will fall out, but, according to the literature I received from the oncologist's office, it should, any time now. Then I should get in my regular hair, which will probably be curlier than it was before and completely unmanageable. We'll just have to see what happens.

  Right now I'm content to have my scalp hidden, like everyone else. Even if I look like a guy.

  While we're on the subject of hair, or the lack of, I must give a ringing endorsement to the Nioxin people, makers of the baldie starter kit. The oncologist's office recommended this product during chemo class, and it works fantastically to keep the scalp clean and itch-free. Don, hair guy extraordinaire, calls it a, "facial for your scalp." It works wonderfully and it has the Cake Eater Seal of Approval.

• How about those Red Sox, eh?

  It was actually kind of a boring game last night, and it became spectacularly embarrassing during the bottom of the fifth, but I'm glad they won nonetheless. If for no other reason than I get to rub my sister's nose in it. This particular sister lives outside of Denver and her family is big into baseball. She sent out a particularly obnoxious email, which went something like, HOW ABOUT THOSE ROCKIES!!!!!!! in the title line of the email, when they won the NLCS. There wasn't anything in the actual email. For this sin, she shall pay.

  The only question is, do I taunt her now or do I wait?

• I flew home on Northworst.

  I had to connect through Memphis. They parked the first plane at the end of the B Concourse. My connecting flight to Minneapolis was located at the end of the A Concourse. When I landed in Minneapolis, we parked at the end of the A Concourse, which of course, is an extension of the already uber-long C Concourse. It took me almost twenty minutes to get to baggage claim. I HATE it when this happens. Pisses me off and it isn't inclined to make me grant Northworst any charitable opinions.

  Furthermore, there was some weirdness in Memphis. I stopped into a shop and the chick behind the counter treated me like a regular. Confused with all the familiarity, I wondered why. My confusion must have been apparent, because she said, "I remember you from last time."

  They must not get too many people with scarves on their head.

That should do you for a time, kids.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:15 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Holy crap! Is this cool or what?

Methinks the recipe organizing project that I've been putting off for, erm, years might finally get done.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:39 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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A move worthy of Bubba Clinton.

The sharp fall in the number of US troops killed over the past three months has brought about a corresponding reduction in the political temperature back home. Rising concerns about IranÂ’s apparently hardening stance over its uranium enrichment programme have supplanted Iraq as the USÂ’s chief foreign policy question.

The principal beneficiaries are John McCain, the erstwhile Republican frontrunner, who has loudly supported George W. BushÂ’s Iraq troop surge, and Hillary Clinton, whose vote in favour of the 2002 Senate resolution authorising war had been a bitter point of contention among grassroots liberals on the campaign trail.

“Until recently the conventional wisdom was that the 2008 election would be dominated by the Iraq war,” says Philip Gordon, fellow at the Brookings Institution, a research and policy organisation, who is advising Barack Obama’s 2008 bid. “But the situation in Iran is moving much more quickly and that is where President Bush’s decisions could have consequences for whoever takes over in January 2009.”

The fading of Iraq as a lightning rod is most evident on Capitol Hill, where Nancy Pelosi, speaker of the House of Representatives, has all but abandoned Democratic attempts to force Mr BushÂ’s hand by attaching conditions to White House war-funding requests.

Mr Bush on Monday asked Congress for another $54bn (€38bn, £26bn) in supplemental war funding – bringing the total for this financial year to $194bn, or roughly $400m a day. Instead of promising new conditions, the Democrats announced they would merely delay Mr Bush’s request to authorise the money in coming weeks.

“Because casualties have fallen so far, it is futile to try to persuade moderate Republicans to vote with us to compel a withdrawal of US troops,” said a Democratic staffer on Capitol Hill.{...}

{my emphasis}

See, Democrats are moving away from Iraq not because the surge is working. Oh, no, no, no. It couldn't possibly be that. It's because fewer servicemen and women are dying at the hands of terrorists and they can't work their paltry majority into anything bigger without scores of dead and injured American troops. That's the reason why Democrats are abandoning the mission they were supposedly elected to achieve.

The question(s) of the day would be: do you think they realize that they just flat-out admitted their motives about supposedly "supporting the troops by pulling out" were completely bogus? Or do you think that one slipped by them entirely?

Posted by: Kathy at 10:38 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I'm not sure how many of you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, have BBC America on your cable/statellite systems, but if you do and you enjoy cars, you should check out Top Gear on Monday nights. They test all sorts of cars, from the cheap to the very expensive, and they do it with a lot of flair, panache and a great sense of humor.

The husband watched last week, when I was away on vacation, and had to tell me all about their review of the Bugatti Veyron when I got home. They'd already reviewed it once, but this time they wanted to see if it would actually get up to the top speed Bugatti claims it can reach---253 mph. And to do this, they put one of the hosts, James May, behind the wheel at Volkswagen's test track, where five miles of straightaway are at hand. This is funny because James May's nickname is "Captain Slow".

Check it out. It's a bit long, but it's totally worth it.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:41 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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A few things, in no particular order

• What is it about being able to see the sunset that makes life a little bit better, and more complete? Everyday that we're here, we rush outside with a glass of wine, sit down and watch the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico. Some days you don't get much, because it slips behind the clouds that hover over the horizon and completely disappears well before it's actually set. On others, you get a luscious red ball sinking into the sea, looking much like molten lava as it slowly sinks behind the horizon. But the most spectacular sunsets are the days when there is something in the atmosphere, smog or low level clouds or the marine layer, that when the sun sets through the haze, painting the sky with vibrant reds, pinks, yellows and purples it's breathtakingly beautiful. Those are the really incredible sunsets and they almost make you happy for pollution and atmospheric fuzz. You can kind of understand, in this instance, why Krakatoa was such a worldwide phenomenon and produced such spectacularly beautiful sunsets, even though it was a horrible, deadly event.

  I don't know why it's such a big deal to be able to see the sun set, but it is. I don't get that when I'm at home. When I'm in Cake Eater land, sunset for me is when the sun slips behind my neighbors house, or if I'm out and about, when it sinks behind the trees and stops blinding me. I don't feel as if something's lacking on those days, but here, where I can see the sunset on a daily basis, I do feel as if I'm missing something when I don't get to see it. I don't know what it is, but something isn't there that should be; a bookend of some sort is missing.

  I can't quite put my finger on it and I probably won't think about it much after I leave.

• Red tide sucks.

  "Red Tide" is a common name for a phenomenon known as an algal bloom, an event in which estuarine, marine, or fresh water algae accumulate rapidly in the water column, or "bloom". These algae, more specifically phytoplankton, are microscopic, single-celled protists, plant-like organisms that can form dense, visible patches near the water's surface. Certain species of phytoplankton contain photosynthetic pigments that vary in color from green to brown to red, and when the algae are present in high concentrations, the water appears to be discolored or murky, varying in color from white to almost black, normally being red or brown. Not all algal blooms are dense enough to cause water discoloration, and not all discolored waters associated with algal blooms are red. Additionally, red tides are not typically associated with tidal movement of water, hence the preference among scientists to use the term algal bloom.

  The most conspicuous effects of red tides are the associated wildlife mortalities among marine and coastal species of fish, birds, marine mammals and other organisms. In the case of Florida red tides, these mortalities are caused by exposure to a potent neurotoxin produced naturally by Karenia brevis, called brevetoxin.

  The red tide has been in the air, off and on, since the first week in October. Mostly, it's been an airborne irritant, as it causes most people to cough and sneeze and blow their nose a lot. Last weekend, however, the water in the gulf turned a brownish-red, with dead fish rolling up on the beach with every wave that slapped at the shore. It was quite disgusting, but mostly it was highly disturbing since the water here is usually a vibrant shade of green and as clear as a bell. It cleared out just as quickly as it came in, but it was a potent reminder that the sea here, which usually I forget holds any forms of wildlife because I never see them, is alive with all sorts of things, some of them nice and some of them not so nice.

  The local media here has been extremely slow to catch onto the phenomenon, as have the local authorities. No one said a peep about it until dead fish started washing up on the beach and they couldn't ignore it any longer. Most of the people here on the beach are tourists, and most of them are unfamiliar with the phenomenon. My folks knew what it was, and so did their group of friends---simply because they'd all experienced it before. The main tip off, besides the allergy symptoms, is that the birds clear out entirely. No seagulls. No herons. No nothing. But I can see where many people, first timers, would have been confused as to why they weren't feeling their best. I can understand why the local authorities would have been cautious in their pronouncements, because they would be afraid to scare the tourists away. While the local air force and naval bases support much of the economy here, tourism makes up the rest of it. If the tourists and their dollars disappear, businesses lose money and people lose jobs that are tentative in the first place.

  Yet...when people's health is at stake, and the authorities keep quiet, that's just simply dangerous. There are plenty of retirees here, and some of them have respiratory issues which demand a trip away from the coast if the red tide got bad. As it was, most people had to find out first hand about the red tide, and had to make plans accordingly, because the local authorities sure as hell weren't any help with their pronouncements that it should clear up quickly and that it's worse elsewhere. It's irresponsible at the very least and downright deadly at its worst. I got caught up in the crap a couple of days after I got here during my nightly walk down the beach. Not knowing what it was, I simply though it was salt spray gone amok. It wasn't. My eyes were overflowing and red, my nose was running to the point where snot was streaming down my face, and I was hacking and coughing like a sixty-year-plus smoker. I could barely breathe until I was safely indoors. While I'm not physically at my best, I'm in better shape than others. If it was that bad for me, imagine what it would have been like for someone with emphysema or some other respiratory issue.

  It's plain that the northern Florida officials and media weren't on the ball with this. I don't know how many people suffered as a result, but they could have done a better job than they did simply by going outside, taking in a breath of air, then checking things out, and reporting their observations to the local media, so people were better informed. That the first articles in the paper only showed up when the sea went red and dead fish started washing up---in other words, when you couldn't have missed it---doesn't speak highly of their commitment to keeping people healthy and safe.

• We got about nine inches of rain here yesterday.

  This is what it looked like

  

  They don't have sewers here, either, so you might get an idea that some of the streets were flooded. Good times!

• While I'm rooting for the Red Sox in the ALCS, I will state right here and now, that I have no beef against the Indians and would be just as happy if they made it to the series.

  If for no other reason than that I would get to make Kenny Lofton/Wille Mays Hays jokes every time Lofton stole a base.

  And if you don't get that, you're beyond hope in the pop culture department.

• I am beyond happy that a certain person who calls herself Just Me, whom most of us are familiar with going way back but whom, because she attracts stalkers galore, has forbidden us to link to her, made it through her hysterectomy in style. That's fantastic news. And if she can make it through the recovery without overdoing it, I'll be really happy.
• The Cake Eater pad is currently getting a new bathroom while I'm away.

  To put it mildly, it might be an interesting experience when I get home, my devoted Cake Eater readers.

  If for no other reason than that my bathroom has been painted a shade of color generally referred to as mocha.

• Given the red tide and the weather over the past couple of days, I haven't been working as diligently on my tan as I should have been. I was Hamilton-tan there for a while, but I'm fading fast. Hopefully it'll clear up today so I can bake myself back into Miss Hawaiian Tropic contention before I go home.
• I'm sure Robbo, Mr. Geeky Civil War Dude among many other things, will be pleased as punch to hear that I made it within the vicinity of an honest to goodness Civil War fort the other day when we meandered into Alabama.

  I suspect, however, that he'll be disappointed that I didn't go into the place and take the tour.

That should do you for a time, kids. The next time I update, I should be safely back in Cake Eater land.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:17 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Do you wake up in the middle of the night, my devoted Cake Eater readers, longing for the days when you could walk over to the tee vee and pretend to smooth down Leonid Brezhnev's eyebrows, thinking he wouldn't be so damn bad if he just gave those hairy caterpillars a trim? Or do you miss the days when Uncle Joe talked about breaking some eggs to make an omelet while he still had crumbs from breakfast in that mustache of his? Or for Khruschev to pound his shoe on the podium at the UN? What about Gorby's birthmark? Have you found yourself missing that as well?

But most of all, are you, perhaps, in a general sort of way, nostalgic for the days when the US and the USSR were bound and determined not to blow each other to smithereens, even though the size of their arsenals said otherwise? Is the ennui of containment missing from your life?

Well, here's your opportunity, my devoted Cake Eater readers, to spend some of your hard earned cash on something that will truly take you back to the heyday of MAD.

Ahem.

You could own your very own Titan I Missile Base.

Where you could play out the opening scenes from WarGames to your heart's content.

Don't say I never did anything for you, my devoted Cake Eater readers.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:10 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 The hubby brought this to my attention and suggested that we buy this place instead of adding on to our current home!!! Don't think so - too much concrete, not enough windows and well the location sucks!!!

Posted by: The Lovely Janis from Winterset at October 14, 2007 09:06 PM (Zsocj)

2 The hubby brought this to my attention and suggested that we buy this place instead of adding on to our current home!!! Don't think so - too much concrete, not enough windows and well the location sucks!!!

Posted by: The Lovely Janis from Winterset at October 14, 2007 09:08 PM (Zsocj)

3 I'll have to ask the Spousal Unit, but I think that there's one of them right over thar in our necko da woods. I do know for sure I've heard the firefighters refer to "the old missle site" for a rendezvous point to get water refills. *cough* Would you like to play a game? LOLLL

Posted by: Margi at October 15, 2007 12:18 AM (wSEpS)

4 I didn't know there were pictures! Holy crap! I think I know where that is! ROFL! I will fwd linkage to Hubby for confirmation - but dude - if you bought that? I believe we'd be sorta-kinda-neighbors. Aheh.

Posted by: Margi at October 15, 2007 12:20 AM (wSEpS)

5 We're pretty sure we know exactly where that is. Too cool. I wish I had a millyun dollars.

Posted by: Margi at October 15, 2007 09:17 PM (wSEpS)

6 There are times when I do miss the Cold War. Those times make me feel dirty and uncomfortable, but I still have them. I miss the parades and the ole geezers standing in the cold on Lenin's tomb. They sure could throw a parade...

Posted by: The Maximum Leader at October 16, 2007 09:00 AM (ruviy)

7 ..... I agree with The Maximum Leader to an extent..... but wow, I sure would love to have me one of those Titan missiles.... and the coordinates of where Steve Spurrier is going to be this weekend....

Posted by: Eric at October 17, 2007 08:12 PM (g02Hg)

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Rough life, eh?

You'll excuse me, but I need to go and stake a claim on the beach.

I should be to the left of the rainbow umbrella for the next few hours if anyone needs me.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:48 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I know this has been all over the place, but go now and read it anyway.

Keep a box of kleenex at the ready.

Posted by: Kathy at 08:16 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Well, my devoted Cake Eater readers, I'm at the beach. To be specific (well, not really) I'm on the Redneck Riviera, staying with the Cake Eater parents for the next few weeks. Someone (coughthehusbandcough) decided I could use a few weeks on the beach to heal up.

If this is what I have to look at every evening, while I'm enjoying my evening libation, I think it should go well.

Posted by: Kathy at 08:28 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 Enjoy, dear lady, enjoy!! ; )

Posted by: Chrissy at October 04, 2007 02:48 PM (EBCRo)

2 I think you've earned the right to take a breather from reality for awhile.

Posted by: wil at October 04, 2007 05:07 PM (d02Z7)

3 Niiiiiice husband.

Posted by: Robbo the Llama Butcher at October 05, 2007 08:02 AM (0JsTF)

4 Yeah, he's a good one.

Posted by: Kathy at October 05, 2007 08:20 AM (Aq0d0)

5 Good show, MRN! Love you, girlie girl. I'm doin' fine and wishing I was there with you - cocktail in hand. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at October 05, 2007 11:13 AM (wpu3a)

6 Awwww...shucks. She needs it, and deserves it. Bonus! She'll come home to a remodeled bathroom! (Although I have little to do with that, the landlord is finally getting on it.)

Posted by: MRN aka "The Husband" at October 06, 2007 05:25 PM (DoFSB)

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...and that spare change adds up to, roughly, twenty million dollars, well, you could spend it on one of the few remaining copies of the Magna Carta.

Yeah. The Magna Carta.

A rare copy of the Magna Carta, the document that enshrined human rights in English law, is to be sold in New York.

The copy owned by the Perot Foundation is expected to fetch more than $20m (£9.94m), auctioner Sotheby's says.

The copy on sale, dating from 1297, was bought by Ross F Perot in 1984 and is the only one in private ownership.

King John sealed the original Magna Carta in 1215, outlawing imprisonment and the seizure of property without due legal process, including trial by jury.

The Perot 1297 manuscript, bearing the seal of King Edward I, is due to go on auction in December.

It was on view until recently in the National Archives in Washington.{...}

If you were, for instance, a Russian oligarch, who could usually be counted on to have more money than sense---i.e. you buy soccer teams rather than investing sensibly; you buy your dumbass girlfriend boobs, ass implants and then lavish those plastic parts with jewelry; you, like the Japanese purchase of Rockefeller Center in the 80's, invest in London real estate at the height of the market, etc.----this would be your chance to prove to the world that you are, indeed, not an idiot. You could then hand it over to Vlad the Impaler, er, coughcough, Vladmir Putin, to try and buy your way back into Mother Russia. You are, after all, missing the borscht and for all your money were unable to find someone to make it just like Mom used to. But that's neither here nor there---you want back into Mother Russia and this is just the thing to get you there.

Ah...ain't it fun when your imagination takes off on a flight of fancy? God only knows who's going to buy the thing.

It'll probably be Steven Spielberg or some idiot movie star, and then they'll use it not only as a tax break, but will hold it up to decry the tyranny of the Bush Administration, etc.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:12 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Because I can...

• Dearest Jonathan went to a Second Life convention in Chicago. You can read all about the skeeze factor here. Or not.
• Heh. Just for the record, I voted for the asterisk.

  Methinks no one will get their panties in a bunch about it, ala Roger Maris, either.

• I've found a new (to me, at least) foodie blog that I'm enjoying tremendously: Ruhlman.com.

  A few years back, when we were in the first ring of Entreprenurial Hell (tm), as opposed to the ninth ring we were dumped into shortly thereafter, the husband and I were in San Francisco for a convention. Precisely two months prior to a day of our choosing during our stay, the husband spent a good portion of that morning dialing and redialing The French Laundry, until he finally got through and managed to secure a nine p.m., six-top reservation. We were lucky to get it. (I think it's easier, midweek, to get a large table, rather than a table for two.) That night, we had what is still, four years later, the best dining experience we've ever had.

  I even managed to have a mini-orgasm during the "Delice au Chocolat et Caramel," with caramel "anglaise" and chocolate "dentelle", dessert course. (Yes, we still have the menu. That tell you anything?)

  The husband, inspired to no end by the experience, then proceeded to buy The French Laundry Cookbook, which, to paraphrase Bourdain from A Cook's Tour, is the closest thing to food pr0n that you're likely to find. It's a lovely cookbook, and it's a treasured addition to my collection. I just never use it because it's incredibly wasteful. One sauce that you use to simply poach lobster claws takes an entire pound of unsalted butter, if I'm remembering correctly. I think we all know, my devoted Cake Eater readers, I'm waaaaay too cheap for that. Wastefulness aside, it's still a gorgeous, well-written cookbook, and Michael Ruhlman, the proprietor of Ruhlman.com, is partly responsible for it.

  Among other things on his blog, he's currently on a kick to replace the chicken you'll find in many a Caesar salad with chicken fried pork belly. While I would prefer some nice strips of steak, this move must nonetheless be applauded by everyone who's suffered through a dried-out chicken breast being dumped unceremoniously on their Caesar, when all they were looking for was a little protein to go with the highly nutritional lettuce.

  If you're a foodie, I highly recommend checking the blog out. It's a lot of fun.

• Because the mailbag tells me that some people might be interested, (although, God only knows why, since I've blabbered on enough about it) the recovery from chemo is going well, thanks for asking. Thanks to repeated shots of Aranesp, we've got the anemia beat, I believe, and all the white cell numbers are finally back in line, too. It seems I've got an immune system, just in time for cold and flu season! Woohoo! The neuropathies are still an issue, but they, too, are getting better, only very slowly. I've even got more fuzz on the top of my head, and it's my usual color, too, instead of the pure white stuff that came in at first. Also, wonder of wonders, I have my eyebrows back. I have more energy than I've had all year long, but I've still got a bit of work to do to get back to 100%---although, God only knows what that might be, because, as I've realized, I haven't been 100% for so long---more than a year, at least---that I don't know what it feels like.

  In any case, I'm feeling good. And that's a distinct improvement.

• Just beautiful.
• Through the husband's work, I've met a fabulous man by the name of Christopher Hopkins.

  His name might be ringing a bell with those of you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, who watch Oprah as he's been on there more than a few times, to my understanding, and generally performs all the makeovers on her show. He is also responsible for the ReVamp Salon/Spa in Uptown, where I now get my (fabulous) pedicures. He's a wonderful man, with a great sense of humor and I can personally attest to the fact that he's a sheer wonder with scissors, as he's now cutting the husband's hair. Seriously. He's amazing. The husband's locks (and, yes, he has long, luscious locks that, occasionally, drive me to fits of intense jealousy in my bald state, particularly when I have to clean up after he sheds.) have never looked better. Yet, hair cutting is only a small part of the wonders Christopher can work, and since he's now got a blog, you, too, can benefit from his advice.

  Check it out, kids. If only for the phrase, "Bling on your butt puts junk in your trunk."

• Finally! A "fair and balanced" iPhone review. Heh. (I should caution that this link is not for the faint of heart.)

• Good girls!
• I'm going to the beach next week. The only problem with this scenario is that I needed a new swimsuit. Sigh. Try finding a swimsuit on the racks in Minnesota in September. I dare you. You'll have better luck finding a rhino in Yellowstone. If you can find one to begin with, it's most likely ugly as sin, or revealing beyond belief, as all the good, normal-sized suits that cover your ass were snapped up in May. I had to resort to shopping online and I have to say, surprisingly, I found this to be quite fun. It has all the fun of shopping, but none of the inglorious squeezing into suits in the dressing room while you're still wearing your underwear. This is also good if you've recently acquired a nine and a half inch vertical scar on your belly. No one, and I repeat, no one wants to be confronted with, "Good God! How'd you get that?" while they're trying on swimsuits. Or to be told, "Do you really think you should be going for the tankini option?" It's just adding insult to injury.

  I ordered this in apple green and blueberry, with navy blue on the bottom, and I'm confident no one on the beach will be any the wiser. I may be mostly bald, kids, but no one needs to know about the scar, even though this choice of swimsuit is directly related to it, as it's still sensitive, even all these months later. The top is loose enough that it shouldn't be too much of a bother, while it's fitted enough not to make me look like I'm six months pregnant. And, because it's Talbots, I know the sizes I ordered will fit me perfectly.

  And they're 75% off, too! Wooohoo!

  All in all, I'm a happy girl, which is not something you could normally say about me after purchasing a swimsuit.

That should do you for a time, my devoted Cake Eater readers.

If there are any of you still out there.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:43 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Honestly, does anything more need to be said?

Well, just this: I really wish that fucker had gone down to Ground Zero and had the shit beat out of him.

But, really, that's almost too much to hope for.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:44 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I haven't been really paying too much attention to the whole Britney debacle, but I did make the mistake of clicking on one article about Britney's ex-bodyguard offering testimony in her custody case.

The ex-bodyguard hired Gloria Allred to represent him and here's the bit that I don't understand.

{...}Tony Barretto, 28, arrived with a lawyer but Family Court Commissioner Scott M. Gordon held only a brief open session before clearing the courtroom of everyone but attorneys for Spears and Federline to privately discuss unsealing documents in the ongoing case.

Outside court, Barretto's attorney Gloria Allred issued a statement calling him a "key and secret witness."

{my emphasis}

So, if this Baretto character is a "key and secret witness" why is his attorney announcing his presence to the world?

Seriously. I don't know why anyone hires Gloria Allred to represent them when it's patently obvious that the only person she actually cares to represent is herself.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:37 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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And what better way to do that than with a meme!

Take the jump if you're interested in some "serious" Q&A time.

{Filched, per usual, from Robbo} more...

Posted by: Kathy at 11:31 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Since I'm sure that you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, are not only devoted, but are also some savvy web surfers, I'm sure you've already seen the inaugural ad-campaign for Tom Ford for Men.

In case you haven't and for once I'm much savvier than you, well, take the jump. I will warn people now (AND YES, MOM, THIS MEANS YOU!) that it could be construed as not really all that arty-farty but actually fairly offensive. If not altogether pr0nographic. If you're of the faint of heart, DON'T TAKE THE FREAKIN' JUMP, EH?

And, more importantly, don't say I didn't warn you. more...

Posted by: Kathy at 03:49 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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To: The jihadi m*therf**k*rs who occasionally make their way here via Google
From: Me

Don't think we've forgotten. We haven't.

And we never will.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:42 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Ahem. I present you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, with The Hunt for Red October:

Watson: Seaman Jones here is into music in a big way, and he views this whole boat as his own personal, private stereo set. Well, one day he's got this piece of Pavarotti...

Seaman Jones: It was Paganini.

Watson: Whatever.

Seaman Jones: It was Paganini.

Watson: Look, this is my story, okay?

Seaman Jones: Then tell it right, COB. Pavarotti is a tenor, Paganini was a composer.

Watson: So anyway, he's got this music out in the water, and he's listening to it on his headsets, and he's just happy as a clam. And then all hell breaks loose. See, there's this whole slew of boats out in the water...

Seaman Jones: Including one WAY out at Pearl!

Watson: Including one way the hell out at Pearl. All of a sudden, they start hearing...

Beaumont: Pavarotti!

Watson: Coming up their asses!

I won't confess to knowing much about opera. I don't even really know all that much about Pavarotti, but I, like much of the world, can at least recognize a big, fat, gorgeous voice, overflowing with passion, when I hear it.

Here's the only Pavarotti I have in my music collection. U2's Miss Sarajevo.

Pavarotti could simply be singing "I have a wedgie" repeatedly and I would have no idea, but damn, ain't it the most gorgeous wedgie-whine you've ever heard? His vocals take the song to a whole different level.

RIP, big man. RIP.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:14 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 267 words, total size 2 kb.

We have fuzz.

(the photo is after the jump. Best viewed by hitting the permalink option, so you have full page glory) more...

Posted by: Kathy at 10:45 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 59 words, total size 1 kb.