Day 106

Day 106, self quarantine:

Happy Sunday.

I dunno if it is.

I’m sorry, I’m really depressed today.

There’s two ways of dealing with this virus.  You can bury your head in the sand and not watch the news, and good luck with that, or you can educate yourself.

I choose to educate myself and unfortunately, that can be scary.

I just read this article and I’m kind of paralyzed.

https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/took-one-person-one-errand-050138571.html

All this man did was make one trip to Home Depot during quarantine.  He’s a scientist who did everything right regarding precautions.

I’m sitting here shaking because we’re headed to Trader Joe in an hour and now I don’t want either of us to go.

Ugh, most of the time I’ve been okay dealing with this thing.  But there are times, like now, that it’s too fucking much.

I’ve made peace with the fact that my kids live far away.  But to not see them at all for six months?  And to watch the news and learn this thing is so out of control it could be another six months...if even that?

This is cruel.  

I just can’t.

The ramifications of this virus raging indefinitely has me sitting here crying at 6:30 a.m.

I fucking hate you and your hideous family,  Donald Trump.  May your supporters rot in hell.

Sorry.

I need to get my shit together.

Later.

Day 105





Day 105, self quarantine:

Woo, day 105.  Every morning I’ve been typing those triple digits, it’s been kind of surreal.

So even though it’s not finished, isn’t the Slick apocalypse garden adorable?  

Stick with me.  As a boomer who never grew up, I can turn any space into a college dorm ready for a kegger  circa 1973.

The first pic I took through the new screen door, sitting on the sofa.  Check out our buddha.  She’s got a solar light.  

We sat outside for a couple hours yesterday.  I texted both kids excitedly.

“Dad and I feel like we’re in our own secret clubhouse back here.”

Yeah, yeah, I know we’re not normal.

But I kinda like being perpetually immature.  

In other news, I don’t have my perfect song list ready yet.  I need to pare it down.  And then I started wondering if I should make two and make them more genre specific.

Don’t mind me, I’m just a wee bit music obsessed.  

So I’m sure you don’t need me to yap about the virus this morning but the news continues to be horrific. Philadelphia’s numbers are back up and now there’s talk of slowing down our reopening.

Will Bunker Boi stop squawking LAW AND ORDER long enough to deal with it?

Nah.

But by all means, Donald, cower in your bunker and focus on statues of dead people, even though you know squat about art, you despicable nitwit.  Because like, look how successful your campaign against kneeling was. 😂😂😂

P.S.  I really really hope the Philadelphia Eagles  sign Colin Kaepernick.

Sigh.  What I want to know is, where are the REAL patriots?

I’m so fucking exhausted.

Look, if his Evangelical Christian supporters want the rapture, fine, they can all die, I’ll help pay for their funerals.

Like today.

Anyhoo...

Today’s plans include procuring soft pretzels.  Gary and I realized last night we haven’t had one since quarantine.  Hey, we live in Philadelphia!  Soft pretzels are a food group!

Like with all other food, Gary and I are soft pretzel snobs.  We get ours here:

http://tastytwisters.com/

I’m wondering if any of you reading have ever had their Mediterranean wraps?  I’ve never seen that on the menu before, and they look like they’re filled with spinach and feta.

Please tell me this is true.

Omg, did someone who makes incredible soft pretzels find a way to make portable spinach pie?

I will fucking die of ecstasy.

Other than pretzels, since we have a stormy day ahead of us, I will be watching Season 1, Top Chef and painting rocks today.

Hope your day rocks as well.

*ducking*

Bye.

Day 104

Day 104, self quarantine:

Happy Friday!  Week 15 of shelter in place is a wrap.

Too funny, Gary caught me listening to my secret pleasure music yesterday.

I’m never gonna live it down.

I thought he walked down to our weekly farmers market and I was just wrapping up some easy work odds and ends in a great mood with an eye towards the weekend, so I decided to blast my happy Robin music.

Okay, here it is.  When I’m alone, I listen to Adele and Miley Cyrus.

Yep, I said it.

Miley’s version of Jolene is so hot, even I want to sleep with her 😎

https://youtu.be/wOwblaKmyVw

And I’m sorry, but Adele’s Running in the Deep is pretty much a perfect song.

You know what?  I just got inspired to make a perfect song playlist.

That’s gonna be tomorrow’s post if nothing else major happens.

Anyway, Gary walked into Julie’s room to tell me he was heading to the market I thought he was already at.

“What the hell are you listening to?”

Busted!

“It’s YouTube shuffle,” I explained red faced.  “They pick songs for me based on my past selections.  For whatever reason, they think I like Miley Cyrus.”

Gary laughed.

“See?  This proves computers know nothing.  How could they be more wrong?”

Okay boomer, whatever you say, I only wanna run away with her every time I watch this video 😂😂😂

“Yeah, really,” I said instead. “I don’t know where they ever got that idea.”

Oh jeez,  thank god he didn’t walk in a minute sooner, my fat pajama bottomed ass was dancing all over Julie’s bedroom.

As Miley wrapped up singing and Gary remained standing in the threshold, I prayed my next shuffle song would be Tull or Crimson.

Nope, it was Adele.  I quickly hit pause.

Hey, I wanted to hear it as soon as he left.

Too late.

“Adele?  Is that Adele?  Jesus, could they be any more way off with your taste, Rob?”

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Gary returned from the farmers market with all kinds of goodies.  He was inspired to make his world famous coconut rice with roasted broccoli.  We had outrageous just picked organic strawberries with coconut milk ice cream for dessert.

I really need to learn how to take better pictures.

That meal rocked my world.

In less cheerful news, this morning’s virus statistics in America are horrific.  The numbers are at an all time high.  The rest of the world is staring at us with their jaws on the floor and are getting ready to ban Americans from their countries.

So what does Bunker Pig tweet just six hours ago?

“Coronavirus deaths are way down. Mortality rate is one of the lowest in the World. Our Economy is roaring back and will NOT be shut down. “Embers” or flare ups will be put out, as necessary!”

This is deliberate, people.  He wants us too sick to vote.  Or protest.

As I said yesterday, I wonder when he ultimately catches the virus, and he will if there is such a thing as karma, if he will gasp, “I can’t breathe!  I can’t breathe!”

One can only hope.

Sorry for the downer, but this is the apocalypse journal.

And on that cheery note, I am headed upstairs to do whatever I can work wise to get this weekend underway sooner rather than later.

Peace out.

Day 103

Day 103, self quarantine:

I love Thursdays. Especially in the summer.  Psychologically, the worst of the week is behind me and the shiny happy weekend is on the horizon.

I’m kind of freaked out next Friday is July 4 weekend.  How the hell did that happen?

I dunno but I will be soaking up the sun in my own backyard.

So as I’m sure you heard, yesterday was the worst day for coronavirus, with 42,000 cases recorded in one day and frightening surges in major U.S. cities.

The spikes are coming in cities where they didn’t wear masks or self quarantine.

I want Trump to be infected in the worst way.  You know what?  I think it’s going to happen.

I hope he screams I CAN’T BREATHE.

Yes, I really do.

I am now 100% comfortable with my decision to remain quarantined indefinitely.

Like, until there’s a vaccine.

I’m not even joking a little bit.

I will  venture outside for a very occasional  meal at an outdoor cafe but I will not go anywhere there is recirculated air.

I have zero problem staying home through 2021.  

And really, Quarantine Gary is my favorite person in the universe.  

Last night after dinner, I grabbed the remote to put on the Daily Show - we tape it every night because what old person can stay up until midnight - and Gary shouted, “Wait, what are you doing?”

Huh?

“It’s Trevor Noah time,” I said.

“It’s 7:00.  We’re not going to watch Jeopardy?”

I mean, I couldn’t even answer.  I just stared at him.

My life is now every sitcom where the lead character accidentally gets whacked in the head, passes out, and wakes up a completely new person.

I liked the old Gary but this one is off the charts.

He didn’t forget how to cook, though.

Last night, I couldn’t decide what to have for dinner.  We had some leftover great bread and gorgeous tomatoes and I was thinking of something pasta again.

Gary may be the chef but I’m usually the one with the ideas.

“I’m gonna make panzanella tonight,” Gary said.

Ooh.

He sure did.

The photo doesn’t do it justice.  

The chew of great bread, tomatoes that burst with sugar, fresh herbs from Gary’s garden, and really good olive oil.

Omg.

I could eat different variations of this salad every night this summer.  I think we should throw in some fresh corn next time for crunch.  Traditionally, they aren’t made with cheese but we always add it so it’s kinda like a merge of caprese and panzanella, and I see the New York Times is also on board with our recipe.  We don’t use onions.  We do use cucumbers - not sure if the NYT does but I think they’re integral.

https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1017518-panzanella-with-mozzarella-and-herbs

You can thank me later 😎

So that’s it for today.  My boss is on vacation next week so this is crunch time.  I’ve been busting my ass all week so he can relax stress free.

Though I admit to an ulterior motive. 

“When’s your getaway day?” I asked him yesterday.

Say Friday.  Say Friday.

“Sunday,” he said.

Boo.

Instead, I laughed.

“I’m gonna try and have you ready to leave Thursday night,” I said pointedly.

Yeah, that’s right.  Quarantine Robin is a brave motherfucker.

Besides, it’s going to be sunny and 89 degrees Friday.  I wanna catch some rays in the Slick Apocalypse Garden.

“Okay,” said my very kind boss.

Let’s see if I can pull it off.  I have a shit ton to do.

Starting now.

Later, gators.

Day 102

Day 102, self quarantine:

Wow, it’s Wednesday already.

Time fries.

So we are now at the point in the apocalypse where I want to sit out in my garden and paint rocks all day.

I’m loving this space so much, I can hardly stand it.  And it’s still only 85% finished.

But good enough that I can sit out there with my coffee all zen. Since I can’t take a normal vacation this year, I’m going to start taking days off to enjoy the sunshine and flowers and all our hard work.  

Why not?  I even have my own personal spa chef.

I mean, seriously.  Look at last night’s dinner.  Who just throws together ravioli with lemon butter basil tomato sauce?

Okay, I cannot tell a lie, those are Trader Joe fresh  ravioli, the summer selection is lemon ricotta which are great and what we had last night, but even better are the basil sweet corn burrata, and both are under $4 a bag and are way more than enough for two people.  

They are but a wonderful canvas for Gary’s insane sauces.  Last night he was inspired by his farmers market purchases.

So yeah, Trader Joe fresh ravioli.  That’s my public service announcement for the day.

How about that Jonestown scene in Arizona last night? Coronavirus, if you’re listening, I have a favor to ask...

No comment on that Aryan teen mourning the loss of Aunt Jemima other than you can really see the effects of forty years of defunding public education.

I really hope that this country can rebuild itself in 2021, and we have a renaissance of sorts.  

Every historian says the same.  It doesn’t matter how wealthy a country is.  Wealth doesn’t enhance society.  You know what does?  Education.  And in America, the best education is now only available to the wealthy.

Enjoy your Civil War.  It’s coming.  I thought I’d be dead when it happened, but now I’m not so sure.

It’s going to be the Haves vs the Have Nots.

I’m not a conspiracy theorist.  If America can’t get its act together and vote that motherfucker out of office, that’s what awaits us.

I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t watch the news at 5:00 a.m.  It’s beyond depressing.

Evangelical Christians are a pox on our society.  The stupid is just breathtaking.

I am going to go pour another cup of coffee and sit out back and meditate and listen to the birds.

Peace and love.

Day 101

Day 101, self quarantine:

I got nothing today.

I’m seriously so busy at work this week that I haven’t had time to think about much else for the last 24 hours.

But I’m watching the news now about the virus and still can’t fucking believe there isn’t a federal mandate to wear masks because we have a morbidly obese hideous imbecile in orange makeup and a yak wig who’s afraid he won’t look handsome.

Instead he canceled visas.

I just can’t.

I just want him and his supporters to burn in whatever hell they believe in for eternity.

It’s going to happen.

So as you know, except for a heart in my mouth trip to Lowe’s, I haven’t been out and about since March 13.

Gary asked me over the weekend, “Do you think it’s safe to go to Target?”

God, no.

“Why?”

“I need shorts, lighters, summer pajama pants, blah blah blah.”

“Can’t I order you stuff online?”

Of course I knew the answer to that but I asked anyway.

So he went to the Target in Northern Liberties which is huge for downtown and usually pretty empty early in the morning.

He came back white as a ghost with a four pack of Bic lighters.

“You should have seen it, Rob.  It was like a scene out of Mad Max.”

“What do you mean?”

“The store was empty.  Other than food, there was nothing on the shelves.  I tried to buy sweat pants, they had two sizes, xxlarge and small.  Same thing in shorts.  Then I walked over to see if they had a couple of flower pots for the yard and that whole section was empty.  I thought you said that Target wasn’t looted!”

It wasn’t.

I looked at Target Northern Liberty’s website.  It showed a fully stocked store, with men’s pajamas in every size.  Just for the hell of it, I clicked on them.  It said they’d be ready to pick up in four hours.

I tried the same thing with flower pots.

Yep.

Gary was having none of that.

“I was just there.  The store is empty.”

Suddenly I had the light bulb moment.

“Do you think that because of the virus, stores like Target aren’t putting out their stock on purpose because they want you to order on line?”

Gary stared at me.  This is his worst nightmare.

“Why?”

“Well, maybe they’re short staffed.  Or maybe for health reasons they don’t want virus infected customers trying on clothes and touching everything.”

Because that was my big worry, too.  

And yeah, that’s exactly what it turned out to be.

I don’t know if things will change when we move to the green stage next week or if this is just a downtown Philadelphia thing but Gary was shaken all day.

“What’s going to happen at Christmas?” he asked me, still wide eyed.

“People will order online.”

It cracks me up that he has no concept of this.  I’ve been ordering his gifts online for the past twenty years.

“We’re moving to Canada.”

“Canadians shop online, too, Gary.”

Poor Gary.  When his fifteen year old flip phone finally dies, his whole world is going to be rocked.

Anyhoo...

That’s enough out of me today.  I’m heading upstairs early to finish some projects.

Behave yourselves today.

Or not. 😎

Day 100

Day 100, self quarantine:

Welcome to Monday, week 15, day 100 of the apocalypse.

Day 100, huh.

I feel like balloons and confetti should be released from the skies.

We made it.

This day feels important.  Like a turning point.

So did Saturday night in Oklahoma.

Thank freaking god.

I hear Bunker Boi is furious.  

That can’t be good for his morbidly obese,  sweaty, 74 year old health.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

Meanwhile, did you see video from Saturday?  If there are any physically or emotionally uglier people than his supporters, I haven’t seen it in my lifetime thank God.

Well, unless we’re talking about Donald himself, who looked fat, ugly and ridiculous following his failed Nazi kegger.

Anyhoo...

To those of you returning to work outside your homes today, my best wishes for a safe, healthy experience.

The Wall Street Journal has an interesting article today about that.  You already know my thoughts.

https://www.wsj.com/articles/new-yorkers-now-can-return-to-the-office-most-are-staying-away-11592731800

In other news, we had an amazing Father’s Day.  I can count myself in on that statement  because I reaped the benefits. Both Julie and Eric FaceTimed Gary, and, they recorded a cover of the Kinks‘ Strangers for him which made us both cry.  I have it saved to my dropbox and if I can figure out how, maybe I’ll share it.

Though the last time I tried sharing something from my dropbox was at work when I used it to send defense counsel Answers to discovery and medical records and somehow included my personal collection of Christmas cookie recipes.

He actually called and thanked me.

I used to joke that those cookies were Gary’s retirement plan.  

Welp, that’s no longer funny.

Oh, just kidding.  Gary is happily retired and he loves baking his cookies for pleasure, not money.

Wow.  I can’t believe we’ve been quarantined since March and I haven’t asked him for any.

Nah, they’re a holiday thing.

Speaking of food, and when don’t I, Gary made the vegan potato cauliflower burgers last night, which he put on the barbecue, and they were pretty much life affirming.

https://www.onegreenplanet.org/vegan-recipe/recipe-spicy-cauliflower-potato-burger/

Gary’s baked beans are damn good, too.

He was going to make street corn but time got away from him and we ended up having a bowl of plain corn with just salt and pepper and it was crazy good for early season.

So yeah, happy Father’s Day to me.

 Naturally my gift to Gary didn’t arrive because I am a dork.  I bought him the remastered Running With the King vinyl and didn’t notice it was a pre- order which won’t be released until tomorrow.  

I showed him the gift receipt and blamed the virus.

So assuming it doesn’t rain today, if you’re looking for me at 1:00 today, I will be having lunch in my garden.

Yeah, I can’t believe it, either. Gary and Robin actually finished a project.  I’m holding back on taking a pic because a few final touches are on the way here, and, fingers crossed, Eric and Natalie are hoping to drive up early next week for a night if Marvin’s surgery goes well and I kinda want it to be a surprise since the last time they saw our yard it was a junk heap.

Julie told us last night she’s watching the virus closely and assuming it’s safe and the numbers continue to go down, she’s coming for a July visit.

It’s such a horrible place to be right now.  We want to see her in the worst way, but we just can’t encourage her to fly here from Seattle until we are 100% confident it’s safe.  So as excited as we are to see her, July may be too soon.

We’ll see.

I’m one of the people who thinks this virus is far from over.  I’m erring on the side of caution.

Many east coast companies are telling their employees to stay inside and work remotely until the end of the year.

Works for me.

I have a pretty busy week ahead so I’m going to wrap this up and start to get my head in gear.

Onward!

Day 99

Day 99, self quarantine:

Happy Sunday, Happy Father’s Day, Happy Day 99 of the apocalypse.

I know a lot of people are returning to work and life as they allegedly knew it tomorrow, including some in my office, but as I’ve said all along, not me.

I’ve read too much about coronavirus and respect our country’s doctors and scientists rather than listen to a deranged, snake oil salesman and Fox news.

I’m staying home.

And this journal will continue.

So we don’t have any plans today, the weather is a little iffy.  I bought Gary some vinyl which hopefully Amazon will deliver later.  I asked him if he wanted me to cook dinner tonight for his special day and he laughed.

“No thanks, I’m making those cauliflower potato vegan burgers you’ve been yapping about,” he said.

Well, gee, if you put it that way...

So it will be a low key Father’s Day and that’s fine.  We really aren’t Hallmark holiday people and omg, autocorrect just wrote “penis” instead of people.

Probably because I call Trump Penis Breath a lot on Twitter.

Anyway, we’re not Hallmark holiday penises, either.

I’m sitting here laughing like a ten year old.

I actually started laughing last night when I read nobody showed up for Bunker Boi’s Nazi rally.

Omg he called the people who did show up “warriors.”

Jesus, I thought they were suicidal psychopaths.

Oh right, they are.

I’ll be smiling about last night’s debacle all day and hopefully through Joe Biden’s inauguration.

Twitter was brutal last night, making fun of him.

Maybe like those cheap pans that can kill you, teflon Don’s poisonous appeal is chipping off in decayed, rotting pieces.

And I am so here for that.

So today’s plan is to  begin watching Top Chef season 1 this morning and begin my rock painting project.

Speaking of Top Chef, this was the best season ever.

It was all about cooking.  The chefs were great and likable and in the end, I would have been happy with any of them.

But...SPOILER COMING...my person won.

I’m such a sap, I sat here crying.

My choice never wins.

And now I’m such a dork, I’m following her on Instagram.

She’s advertising for a cute girl to join her on a motorcycle ride through Italy.

I’m wishing I was eligible.

Wait, I have to interject right now  because I have the news on in the background and two items caught my attention:

Someone just paid $6M for Kurt Cobain’s guitar.

A plastic surgeon in Cherry Hill is doing booming business performing multiple procedures on people who are dismayed how they look on Zoom.

Cool, cool, apparently Idiocracy was a documentary.

Yeah, yeah, I already knew that.

Oy vey.

In happier news, at least to me, I’m leaving you with some of my favorite Papa Slick pics.

This is one of those times I wish Gary were on Facebook but I’ll show him when he wakes up.

Anyhoo...

Time to get my day started.

I guess I can’t call you fellow apocalypse dudes anymore since many of you are rejoining society, so be safe and have fun.

TTYL.