Cuz I'm Belize'n On a Jet Plane

yep. that's the title of this post and I'm not apologizing for it. In about an hour, a car is coming to get me to take me to the airport. Then a plane is taking me to Florida. Then another plane is taking me to Belize. Then another teeny tiny little puddle jumper is taking me to this little island in Belize.

On this island, I shall spend the next 5 days by myself, in the sun totally relaxing.

There's a possibility it might rain, a lot. So I am bringing my laptop, and I might decide to write, but then again, I might not. So have a great Halloween if you don't hear from me.

Bye!

My Stolen Lines #7

I think it is worst if you don't know whether it is a good thing or a bad thing which is going to happen.

I wake up. It's any Wednesday. No reason for this Wednesday. I wake up and I hit snooze. I hit snooze twice, actually. Pretty standard. For a Wednesday. I wake up my asshole dog by whispering "good morning!" I don't think she is responding to the words, but more the syllables and the tone of my voice. How crazy. Today is just another Wednesday. And those three syllables, "good morning" to her make this dumb Wednesday THE BEST WEDNESDAY EVER IN THE HISTORY OF WEDNESDAYS! PANTPANTLICKLICKWAGWAG.

I get out of bed. I turn on my bedroom light. I turn off my fan. I try and remember what day it is. It's Wednesday, I remember. I go into my bathroom. I turn on the shower. While I'm waiting for the shower to get hot, I brush my teeth. I floss my teeth. All pretty standard for a Wednesday. I get in the shower. As has been my habit for many past Wednesdays, I sit down in the tub and let the shower pour over me like I'm sitting in a hot summer storm. I don't have long, because like every day, including Wednesdays, my douche-cock neighbor will begin his own morning ritual of showering, which totally ruins mine. I have no expectations that on this Wednesday, or any other Wednesday, he will cease being a douche-cock. So I keep it brief.

I get out of the shower, I dry my hair with a towel, before I dry my hair with a blow dryer. Then I throw some makeup on. Not a lot. It's just a Wednesday, after all. Black bra, black hose, black skirt, black camisole, black jacket, black heels, watch, pearl earrings, pearl necklace, black coat, black briefcase. Just another ordinary outfit for an ordinary Wednesday.

I grab the leash and take the asshole dog outside for a walk in the park. She growls at all the wrong dogs. She chases squirrels. She does what all dogs do on Wednesdays. She pisses and shits, of course. I take her back in the house. I grab my briefcase and head back out the door to the el.

This one Wednesday though. It's different. I know something this Wednesday that I didn't know before. No Wednesday will ever be the same after this one. I recount the details of my average Wednesday morning over and over, taking comfort in the facts and the certainties that I own. I woke up I said good morning I showered I got dressed I walked the dog I left for the train. That's it. Now it's all going change. For the better, maybe, but just as likely for the worse. I stop myself dead in my tracks, not wanting to go any father. Just one last moment of knowing exactly where and who I am.

I think it is worst if you don't know whether it is a good thing or a bad thing which is going to happen.


*** I stole the first and last line from The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime by Mark Haddon as part of the Stolen Lines Experiment. The inimitable Butterflyfish found the line.

Update:
Stolen Lines From:
Inaccurate Ninja
Ms. Foxy
Lex Discipulus
Butterflyfish

Stolen Lines #7

I think it is worst if you don't know whether it is a good thing or a bad thing which is going to happen.

For all of you inspirationally challenged writers, here's a new stolen line. This line comes courtesy of the very aweseome and newly employed Butterflyfish. She pulled the line from The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime by Mark Haddon . The rules: Start your post with the above line. End your post with "I stole the first line of this post from The Curious case of the Dog in the Nighttime by Mark Haddon" And maybe link back to me so people can understand the point of the post. And whatever you put in the middle is up to you. There's no deadline. Write whenever you feel like it. If you want to have your post included, just leave a comment or send me an email telling me you've posted. PS. This is open to absolutely anyone. All you have to do is write it. Here, you can find the previous Stolen Lines.

Smokes

So approximately 3 years and 2 1/2 months ago, I did something awesome. That is, besides start this blog.

I quit smoking. Now, I wasn't some half-ass, smoke-when-I-drink, or when-I'm-really-stressed-out smoker. I smoked like it was my job. About a pack and a half. Every. Single. Day. I know. Gross. And expensive.

Which brings me to the point of this post. I used to spend about 12 dollars every day for my pack and a half of cigarettes. It's been 1170 days since my last pack. Here's what I want to know:

Where the FUCK is my $14,040 that I've "saved" by quitting?

Dear Whoopi Goldberg,

I understand you've come out full force to defend your fellow famous person ("FFP"), Roman Polanski. Good for you!!! :-)

And by "Good for you," I mean, "Shame on you that is so fucked up and don't try to explain it away, because quite frankly you can't explain it away, and any attempt to explain it away is just another horrific and obnoxious slap in the face to sexual assault victims everywhere."

"It was something else but I don't believe it was rape-rape." -You

Rape-rape? Rape-rape? Now, Ms. Goldberg, I am a criminal prosecutor. And although I am fairly new, I think I have a pretty good handle on criminal law. And I reviewed my outlines, my class notes, and my Bar Bri books, and nowhere can I find a definition for "rape-rape"

But, since you're a celebrity, and therefore, I must believe you, and assume you're smarter than me, I will accept that you are right and attempt to define "rape-rape" as I believe you intended it.

Here you go:

Rape-rape [reyp-reyp] -noun The act of a man with a knife, gun or other such weapon, by use of physical force, inserting his penis into the vagina of a young, white, Christian, virgin, female who has never consumed alcohol or drugs, and who the man has never met. Oh, and who is also a very nice and pleasant person all the time. The man must not be successful, talented or attractive, because men who are successful, talented or attractive are, by law, presumed to not have any need to rape-rape.

Rape-rape. There you go.

This is a great thing, Whoopi. Think of all the women out there who can now go on living their lives FINALLY realizing that they aren't victims after all! Maybe now that they know what happened to them isn't rape-rape, they can go right back to blaming themselves. Super awesome!

Or not.

Your FFP gave a 13 year old child alcohol. That's a crime.
Your FFP slipped a quaalude into the alcohol. That's a crime.
Your FFP then had sex with that 13 year old girl. That is also a crime.
Make no mistake, Ms. Goldberg. That is Rape-rape.

Dear Illinois Bar Takers,

Actually, ALL bar takers:

Daisy just reminded me. This is either a really fantastic day for you, or a really fucking shitty day for you. Or, like me, you lost your anonymous exam number and had to sit around freaking out for five more days.

Leave a comment. Tell me if you passed or failed. I want to know. Pass or fail, I am rooting for all of you assholes.

For those that failed, you WILL be ok. For those that passed, enjoy this moment. And be sensitive to your friends who maybe weren't so lucky. Don't be an asshole know-it-all.