Day 113

Day 113, self quarantine:

Hi, Sunday.

Good morning!  I’m determined to be cheerful today.

Despite Kanye West announcing his run for President.

Omg, can this country be any more ridiculous?

Yeah, probably, when Trump dumps Pence for Ivanka 😂😂😂.

So I got my favorite Facebook memory today and I can’t believe it.  It’s fifteen years since I went to LA and Seattle to see Julie and Eric for the opening night  premier of Rock School in both cities.

Haha, my two stars.  That movie is now a cult classic.

The photo is really something, isn’t it?

I wrote about that week extensively and there’s more cool celebrity pictures you music nerds might like 😎

http://inherownwrite.blogspot.com/2005/05/final-word-on-eddie-vedderseattle-and.html

That’s just one post but you can easily locate the others once you’re there.

Good times.

I mean, 15 years later, those good times are still happening, just on hold for 2020.

Gosh I want my life back.

Don’t we all.

Last year between August and December, I saw Natalie do a show in New Jersey, I saw Julie play with Adrian, and, a month later, with Start Making Sense, I saw King Crimson in VIP seats practically touching the stage and then a week later saw Eric play at the same venue with Dr. Dog, and then ended the year with an amazing Chris Harford Thanksgiving night show featuring my entire family.

Speaking of Chris Harford, he’s on my perfect song list.  I’m still getting that together because, well, I want it to be perfect.

Anyway, how the hell did we go from last year to the hell that is now?

The news on the virus continues to be terrible.  It’s basically raging out of control and we’re basically being told, “Oh well, just deal with it.”

We may be looking at Hanukkah and Christmas with our families via Zoom.

If we’re lucky.

Okay, enough of that.  I said I’d be cheerful.

I hope today goes slow.  I’m not in the mood to return to work mode tomorrow.  

Gah!  Trying hard to be positive.

I’m honestly not in a bad mood.  I think I need a week off from paralegal world.

I don’t know why I’m holding on to my three weeks’ vacation.  It’s not like I can go anywhere.

 I wish I had the discipline to put my phone down and unplug, too, but just like my need to stay awake on airplanes even during ten hour flights so I keep the pilot awake and make sure we don’t crash and everyone on board stays alive, I clutch my phone 24/7 to keep Trump from the nuclear codes.

Hey, so far it’s working.  You can thank me later, when he’s gone for good.

My daily reminder that if you support him, you are going to burn in hell for eternity.

You’re also a fucking nitwit.

Seriously, though.  With Eric and Natalie in Nashville and Julie and Katie in Seattle, and a raging pandemic, how the heck can I ever put my phone down?

In other news...

Eric and Natalie are leaving today to drive to Minnesota. Their dog Marvin is having life saving brain surgery on Tuesday and will be hospitalized for a week.

“I guess we get to vacation in Minnesota this year,” Eric joked weakly.

My fingers are crossed for them.  There’s few worse things than a sick pet.  Marvin has been having seizures and Eric and Natalie have gotten little sleep.  

We watched Eric do a few songs livestream Friday night for a charity and he looked so exhausted our hearts hurt for him.

In much better Eric news, the first single from his new record, “When it Comes Down to It” will be released Wednesday!  And there’s a video!

I have the link already but it won’t be public until Wednesday so watch this space first thing Wednesday morning.  It will also get radio play on WXPN.

It’s fucking awesome.  I can’t stop singing it.

And the video is so Eric my face hurt from smiling.

Ms. Natalie joins him on single #2 which will be released July 22 and if that song doesn’t take your breath away, nothing will.

And now I really am in a great mood.

See?  Instead of dwelling on stuff that makes you angry or sad, try to focus on what makes you happy.  

Trust me, it works.  

Enjoy your day, everyone!

Day 112

Day 112, self quarantine:

Happy Independence Day.

Oh that it really were.

But do keep up those sweaty, slurred Nazi speeches while wearing bright orange clown makeup, Donald.  I’m positive that’s your path to reelection 😂😂😂.

So I’ve been up since 3:00 a.m. and wrote an entirely different post, which in the light of day, I’ve decided not to share.

But since this is a quarantine journal, I want to document that it was all about fear.

I don’t know what the hell happened, what started out as a mild pity party for Gary and me because I got triggered by years of July 4 Facebook memories of our kids at the beach, turned into a full fledged panic attack for everyone I love when I went downstairs.

Every time I think about the ramifications of this virus, it brings me to my knees.

I wish I had the money to fund every artist out of work.  My heart is broken in a million pieces.  I need to do more to help.

I will.

The important thing is, I turned my dark mood around by recognizing how self destructive self pity is and the way out of that funk is by focusing on the positives.

I have so many amazing memories of my family at the beach.

I have so many amazing memories, period.  It’s been a pretty remarkable life.

But why is everything always so much scarier in the middle of the night?

I’m honestly fine this morning, looking forward to a low key day of hanging with Gary, paining rocks, listening to music and eating hand cut french fries.

It’s not a bad deal at all.

And how crazy is this.  I went searching through my stuff to find a pic of the kids at the beach and found a novel I started writing in 2012 and abandoned called Suicide Blonde.

I just read it.  I honestly don’t remember writing it.  In fact, I was in such a bad place when I wrote it I am positive my finding it now was more than a spooky coincidence.

Our dog had just died, Julie was moving to Los Angeles, Eric wasn’t in a good relationship, and I had one of the worst jobs of my life working for a screaming cokehead lunatic.

Anyway, fuck me, I think I can salvage that novel and make it funny.

It’s so poor, poor me I sound like a cross between Woody Allen and Donald Trump.

How did my family stand me? Yikes.

But the good stuff in there I can work with.

Did you know that I lived at the beach for two summers when I was 15-16 as a mother’s helper for three boys age 3,5 and 6?

It’s when I decided I was NEVER having kids 😂😂😂

There’s a couple of chapters about that.

I was paid $15 a week, cooked three meals a day, and even ironed sheets.  I thought I was the luckiest person in the world.

I had the weekends off and had a secret life.

I basically ate my way through Atlantic City all by myself.

And this is back before foodies and when 15 year olds were basically just a few years graduated from playing with Barbies.

I started with candy stores and I am proud to say I discovered a real chocolatier on my own before anyone knew what that was but by the end of summer I was dining on lobster at Captain Starn’s Seafood.

I just had to google my old haunts.

Oh my fucking god, the candy store I rode my bike to almost every day when I was 15 is still there.

https://www.jagielkyscandy.com/

HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS?

It’s literally twenty minutes away from Ocean City, where we’ve spent every summer since 1989.

Well, this changes everything.

We are so going there.

I’m waking Gary.

He’s going to be thrilled.

Not, but I know how to make him happy.

https://whitehousesubshop.net/

Omg, my other haunt at age 15.  I can’t even believe it.  It’s like time has stood still.

I’ll have the cheesesteak submarine, please.

Without the steak.

Hey, a gooey cheese and tomato sauce sandwich on a crusty Italian roll is amazing.

To each their own.

Okay, I am going upstairs with a cup of coffee for my better half.  

He’s never going to agree to this but I am still smiling at the possibility and now I’m thinking I will take a day off next week and go when it’s less crowded and risky.

Wow.  For a brief moment, I got so caught up in my 15 year old Robin memories and chocolate...especially chocolate... I totally forgot about the virus.

Okay.  Deep breaths.  I’m still smiling and that’s all that matters.

And Gary is making hand cut french fries tonight.

Oh, and Donald Trump, Jr.’s girlfriend tested positive for the virus.

Hey, thanks,  God!  Maybe you’re there after all!

Now please smite Trump and every single one of his supporters.

Whatever.

Enjoy the day, fellow apocalypse dudes.

Day 111

Day 111, self quarantine:

Happy three day weekend.

I’m not saying Happy Independence Day weekend because we’re not really free until November 4.

Or until karma and/or a lifetime of eating greasy fast food get him.  Whichever comes first.

I’m cool with option 2.

I am just gobsmacked that as late as yesterday, both he and his creepy evangelical Christian VP looked straight into the camera and lied about the virus.  What virus, they basically said, as 50,000 new cases are appearing daily.

Actually, here’s what Trump said yesterday on resurgence of virus as cases are spiking in several states: 

“We are putting out that life because it’s a bad life that we’re talking about.”

No mental illness or dementia there, eh Donald?

Completely unfit despicable human garbage.

Gah!

Do you guys know that he’s planning on setting off fireworks at Mount Rushmore tomorrow?

Fireworks have been banned at Mount Rushmore for the last ten years for serious ecological reasons due to chance of wildfires.

https://www.cnn.com/2020/07/02/weather/mount-rushmore-fireworks-wildfire-risk-trnd/index.html

So let’s recap.  He’s visiting Mount Rushmore in direct opposition to the native Americans who live there, he’s encouraging no masks or social distancing for this bogus party in the middle of a pandemic, and he’s insisting on a celebration that may set off a series of devastating wildfires.

Got it.

AND HE’S NOT IN PRISON WHY?????

Okay, I feel temporarily better now.

So what’s everyone doing this weekend?

Welp, we’re staying home, big surprise.  But I did plan out the menu for the weekend.

Tonight there will be pizza.  White pies - one pesto and one spinach ricotta.

Tomorrow there will be veggie banh mi sandwiches and hand cut french fries.

Sunday we’re barbecuing and I am trying out a new veggie burger recipe which uses black beans, roasted almonds and portobello mushrooms. 

The wrench I may throw into these plans may be tomorrow night because I just got an email from our local Ethiopian restaurant with a rather spectacular vegetarian takeout platter offer which feeds four, i.e., Gary and me, and it may be too good to pass up.

https://haklilu.github.io/Era-Bar-and-Restaurant/foodmenu.html

In which case I will shift the hand-cut fries to Sunday to have with the veggie burgers.

Hey, you didn’t think I was giving up my french fries on a holiday weekend, did you?

So I’m sure you’re all dying to know the reason for the picture.  See the Frida Kahlo pillows on my sofa?  

I’ve been up since 4:00 a.m.painting those images on rocks for my garden because I am insane.

Pics coming after I am finished sealing them.  I’m too nervous I will wreck my hard work and am going to let Gary do that for me outside after they’re fully dry.

Man, is this fun.

I have all kinds of my own ideas but I wanted to see if I could work that small and use paint pens easily.

Omg, paint pens are everything.

If we’re in quarantine much longer, I will probably take those pens to some walls in this house.

In fact, if it’s not moving or breathing, I’m gonna paint on it.

(As Gary frantically gathers his guitar collection with a look of abject terror in his eyes 😂)

So I think that’s it for me today.  I’m going back to my rocks.

Rock on, people 😎

Day 110

Day 110, self quarantine:

Happy Thursday/Friday/July 4th weekend!

I really can’t wrap my brain around this.  The last time I was a “free” woman outdoors I was wearing a down parka and knee high boots and now it’s July 4 and I’m wearing light cotton pajamas and life as I knew it is completely changed.

Gary and I have lived near the Art Museum  since 1978 and this is the first year there won’t be fireworks or any celebration in the ‘hood.

I gotta say, I’m really not in the mood to celebrate America this year anyway so no real loss.

Also, the dog and I hate fireworks.  Gary was always the good parent who walked down to the museum with the kids.

“Mom, you don’t want to go?”

I’d rather be dipped in hot oil.

“Aw, no, I have to stay home with the dog.  The noise really upsets him.  Have fun, guys!”

I was like that when it came to any Monster Truck event, movies with names like Drop Dead Fred, or anything even remotely resembling an amusement ride.

Gary the super dad, the guy with the spatula who hid dead hamsters, always stepped up.

Though to my credit, I got Julie hooked on five star French meals at Le Bec Fin at age 12 and I wangled a private tour for 13 year old super fan Eric at Mad Magazine where he met all the artists and they were so taken with him they invited the two of us to their 50th anniversary cocktail party later that night at the WB store in NY and we went and we were so giddy, we couldn’t believe any of it happened.

Haha and now Eric is a star himself.  And so is Julie...and we all know about Julie’s cooking.  

Gary and I did alright.

Gah, I miss my kids.

Is 5:30 a.m. too early to eat the leftover blueberry cornbread sitting on the dining room table, calling my name?

I can’t believe Gary just threw that together while I was getting a haircut.  Who does that?

Naturally I had to ask.

“I was watching one of your goofy cooking shows and they were making it and I had a box of blueberries in the house we needed to use and...”

“Wait.  Excuse me? You were watching one of my shows? Which one?”  

Hey, I was pissed.  I tape my food shows and watch them alone at 5:00 a.m. because he hates them and makes fun of me and now he tells me he watches them when I’m not around?

Well that doesn’t seem quite fair.

“Which show were you watching?” I demanded again.

“I don’t remember,” he lied.

I grabbed our fancy Comcast remote which Gary refuses to learn how to use because he thinks it spies on him.  Ha! Just as he always feared, it told me exactly what I wanted to know.

“Martha Stewart?  You watched Martha Stewart? Omg.  Dude.  You have lost the right to ever make fun of my taste in shows,” I said.

“No, I didn’t,”

“Yes, you did!  Don’t lie.  You watched Martha Stewart.  I bet if I go online I’ll find the recipe!”

Gary glared at the remote like, “I’ll get you later, bitch.”

https://www.marthastewart.com/337782/blueberry-corn-muffins

Anyway, the cornbread was delicious.

And clearly the two of us are spending too much time together 😜

So one more thing before I go - Epix is running a documentary Laurel Canyon, not to be confused with the Jakob Dylan fashion show vanity puff piece Echo in the Canyon.  Gary and I watched episode one last night. AMAZING.  And we both heard stories for the first time that freaked us out because we’re both groupies and music nerds who think we know everything.

Like, Peter Tork and Stephen Stills were roommates and Stephen was the one who went for the first Monkees audition which he flunked because he had a snaggletooth.  So he sent Peter.

Or that Mama Cass invited Eric Clapton to her house for a barbecue where he was completely freaked out by Joni Mitchell who played a chord he’d never heard.

Hmm I thought I’d know that story but maybe I did and forgot.

Or that David Crosby had shoeboxes full of the world’s best pot...

Okay, we knew about David. 😎

We KNOW about David.

So an absolute must watch for fellow nerds.  Spectacular footage and music.

We’re watching episode two tonight.

And on that note, I’m gonna go upstairs and crush it so I can give myself early dismissal at the Casa Slick home office.

I must be slipping.  I haven’t made any holiday food plans yet.

Sigh...I won’t say it.

We’ll make the best of things.

Peace and love.

Day 109

Day 109, self quarantine 

Hey hey Wednesday, I like you today because you’re really Thursday as I have Friday off for July 4thweekend.  Yay Wednesday!

I’m just happy my weekends are real weekends again.  My boss and I are now like a well oiled machine working remotely during the week, and have even fallen into a regular daily schedule.  So Friday feels like Friday again, etc.

The last time I saw my boss in person was March 12.

That’s just crazy.

In other news, hallelujah I saw Sean, my hair stylist yesterday and we both agreed I should keep my long quarantine hair.  So I just got a trim and left his salon feeling like a new woman.

Before I got my haircut, Sean met me at the doorway and took my temperature.

I was startled.

“Omg, what if I have a fever,” I babbled nervously.

“97.5,” he said, looking relieved, although who can really tell when wearing masks.

“97.5?  I’m dead?” 

Sean laughed and assured me I wasn’t.

This was literally the first time I was less than a foot apart from anyone other than Gary since March.

I was Sean’s first appointment since he closed his salon in March.

Hey, I was all kinds of honored I was his first. 😜

Other than not being able to hear each other due to masks and jackhammers digging up the street outside (oh, yes, lucky me, I’m still vibrating), it was a chill experience.

Welp, I thought I was chill, but by the time I walked home and had to pass a crowd of mostly unmasked millennials drinking at a sidewalk cafe and not socially distancing, I was so nerved out I walked into the house shaking.

Gary was out back.

I tried to act normal.  Yeah, good luck with that.

“Ooh, Gar, can you take a picture of my hair?”

I handed him my phone.

“But...”

I sunk down in our snazzy new beach chair.

“Just take a pic.  I’m having an anxiety attack.”

Gary took a pic and handed me back my phone.

“Why are you having an anxiety attack?  Your hair looks good.”

I stood up and brushed off some leaves from my jeans.

“Not my hair.  Omg.  I have anxiety from being outside around people not wearing masks!  Wait...you just took a pic of me wearing a mask?”  I looked down at my phone incredulously.

“Rob, you just told me to take your picture.  I tried to tell you but I thought that’s what you wanted.  Am I supposed to dress you, too?”

“Oy, I’m so stressed I didn’t even realize I still had it on.  I’m losing my fucking mind.”

“Want me to take another pic?”

“Nah.  I really just wanted to see what my hair looked like.”

“And a mirror isn’t good because...?”

Grrr.  It makes me nuts he doesn’t have an iPhone.  He’ll never really understand.

Anyway, that was my excitement for yesterday.

Well, other than blueberry cornbread, which Gary decided to bake while I was out getting my hair done.

It. Was. Delightful.  Pictures coming.

Without masks, even.

So all in all, Day 108 was a good one.

Onward!

Day 108

Day 108, self quarantine:

Happy Tuesday.

Behold Gary’s pasta with artichokes.  I was texting with my coworker upstairs and I actually texted her, “Omg it smells like an Italian restaurant in here.  What is he making...?”

We’re on a rotini kick this summer.   It really holds lighter sauces nicely.

Damn it was good.

In other news...

I can’t.  

How is he not in jail this morning?  

If I say what I’m thinking, I’m the one who will end up in prison.

But the day is young.

One of us might.

So not that I predict the future, but yep, certain states, like our sister state, NJ, are now delaying full reopening. There’s a press conference scheduled later today in Philadelphia.  Trust me, we’re not going full green Friday after all.

The pandemic is raging.

If you read about New Zealand, with their strong leadership, led by a woman, they totally flattened the curve by taking immediate action and quarantining the entire country.

They have zero cases there now.

Our government knew about this pandemic over six months ago and did nothing.

Unless you call making a fatal virus political “nothing.”

Then it becomes murder, right?  Right???

My point is, due to Trump’s negligence, over a hundred thousand Americans are dead.

He’s a soulless murderer and anyone who supports him is, too.

It’s black and white, people. There’s no gray area anymore.

I’m banking on the good people in our government to step up and be patriots.  Now is the time.  

Because there isn’t any time left.

Sigh...

Oh, wait, I want to circle back to New Zealand again.  Not only did they wipe out the virus, look what they did as soon as life began to return to normal:

https://www.rnz.co.nz/news/political/417843/government-launches-175m-arts-and-music-recovery-package

Yeah, that’s right.  A $175 million dollar music and arts recovery package.

Julie and Katie?  Eric and Natalie?  Say the word and this house is up for safe and we’re outta here.

While the mob boss in the White House can only focus on name calling and arresting protesters who want to remove statues of racists.

All he wants to do is divide us further.

I weep for America.

I weep for all of us.

But you know what?  I think a phoenix really will rise from our ashes and our rebirth will be beautiful.

I’m counting on it.

Peace out, fellow warriors.

Day 107

Day 107, self quarantine:

Monday, week 16.

So yeah, I had a rough time early yesterday.  

I try to live one day at a time and not worry about a future I’m not even guaranteed but the breaking news about the virus was so devastating I broke down in tears over the kids - from missing them and their live music and then just from worrying about them and their music and then from just plain worrying about everything.

I mean, Eric talked about coming to Philadelphia soon and Julie texted just a few weeks ago that she was cautiously looking at flights in July for a two week trip but after seeing the news yesterday, I don’t see how that’s possible.  We reopened too soon and things are getting worse, not better.

I don’t want them to come for a visit, it’s not safe

So I felt completely washed in despair and that’s when I lost it.

Look, I know I’m privileged. I’m drawing a paycheck in beautiful surroundings with an awesome husband feeding me gourmet vegetarian meals. 

I know there’s people facing financial ruin because of the vIrus. 

I have close friends who lost parents to the virus.  

I lost a coworker to the virus in a very small family oriented office, ffs.  I haven’t been back to work so I don’t even know what that will be like.

It’s going to be weird.

It doesn’t matter that I’m privileged.  The virus is the equalizer.  I’m trapped in the house, scared to death, missing my kids and it sucks.

And other than Gary, I’m not out and about talking to people.  I don’t know how anyone is really dealing.  Not everyone is able to express themselves with words...not everyone wants to.  

On social media, most of us are doing “fine.”

But the reality is, quarantine is a whole new level of isolation and even a person like me very comfortable being alone is struggling.

No live music is beyond horrible.

No professional sports is just wrong.

The world is off kilter and it’s not a happy place.

And on top of the complete shocking and willfully ignorant mismanagement of the pandemic, there’s some serious crime going on and that someone so hateful and vomitatious has a platform and is getting away with it is blowing my mind and making me physically ill.

The sheer pig ignorance of these allegedly “conservative” American people  brainwashed by Fox *sic* news, putting science disdainfully up against evangelical Christianity complete with a rapture — with this unspeakably gross, hateful  perverted Christianity actually having a voice in a government which clearly separates church and state —ugh, there are no words.

Everything finally got to me yesterday.

So I cried like a baby and talked to Gary about it and of course he feels the same way and after that, we both ended up feeling much better.  

We did a quick in and out at Trader Joes, came home and listened to music, then I sat outside grooving to fresh air in the Slick Apocalypse Garden while Gary grilled some Jersey tomatoes and veggie burgers,  and my dark mood lifted and all is well once again.

I mean, what’s the point of being miserable.

We’re all in this together. 

We’re just going to have to get used to the new normal.

But omg, can you imagine when there’s a vaccine?

Kiddies, I was around when the pill first came on the scene.

Our mantra was, Make Love, Not War.

We had an outrageously good time.  I can’t even tell you how awesome it was, my kids read this.

But I predict once there’s a vaccine, the good time we had in the 60s/70s is going to look like an uninspired appetizer in comparison to the main course we’ll have in 202...whenever.  

We’re gonna party like it’s 1999.  Plus eleven.  Or twelve.

So there’s that to look forward to.

I can’t fucking wait.

Goals, people.

Goals are not the same as anxiously worrying about the future.

For example, my goal today is to prepare a Petition for Substitute Service.  

You don’t even want to know what it is, only that it’s boring as fuck so I’m getting it out of the way early so I can enjoy my lunch out in the garden and NOT worry about it.

Haha.  Lunch out in the garden.  Now those are words I never thought I’d say.  

See?  Life is good.

May your Monday be the best you can make it.  

That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it.

Peace and love.