Wednesday, April 01, 2020

Days 1-17



SELF QUARANTINE DAYS 1-17

I wrote the first post on March 16, 2020 and 
every day thereafter.  

Day 1 of self quarantine. Coronavirus makes 
us realize shockingly for the first time we’re 
no longer young, we’re not even middle aged, 
we’re senior citizens. I look over at Gary, 
unable to suppress scary thoughts.

Oy vey. It’s going to be a long couple of weeks.
*************
Day 2, self quarantine: I realize how lucky my husband and I are. We can afford to stay home indefinitely and we have a fully stocked kitchen. But we’re also over 60. The realization that one or both of us could be really sick or worse in days is terrifying.
***************

Day 3, self quarantine: I watch the news in horror. The parking lot of Citizens Bank Park, our stadium where the Phillies would normally be playing baseball next month, has been turned into a mash unit for coronavirus testing.
My husband is cranky. I’m just scared.
************

Day 4, self quarantine
The news is bleak. The pandemic could last 18 months. Gary and I are lucky in that Gary is already retirement age and I will be there this summer. I’ve learned this week I don’t like doing my job from home. Up until now, I always thought I would work for a few more years. Now I’m not so sure. Life is short.
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Day 5, self quarantine: I’m growing a unibrow and you don’t want to know about my upper lip but the last time I tried to exfoliate myself, I ended up with half an eyebrow and little prickly bits of wax stuck to my body for days. In other news, Gary’s messy chef ways are becoming problematic. Obviously I don’t mind cleaning up after him, it’s a small price to pay for his awesome food, but he’s been cooking 24/7 out of nerves. Those who may be envious I had sweet almond biscuits didn’t have to clean up the floor and the countertops, three crusted over cookie sheets with sticky sugar icing and two huge mixing bowls etc etc. But hey, I’m not really complaining, it’s cool. We’re still healthy. For now, anyway.
*********************
Self isolation day 6: These are terrible times for a hypochondriac who reads too much. The last couple of nights before bed I swore I had a headache and sore throat but I woke up feeling fine. Unfortunately my appetite is also fine. I’m eating everything not nailed down.
Yeah, that’s a bedtime snack of pie ala mode. Don’t @ me. Be good to yourselves. ❤️

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Day 7, self quarantine: I’m not going to lie, I’m freaking terrified. I had a hard time sleeping last night and I woke up at 4 a.m. today, filled with dread. I read the Imperial College report and too many front line accounts from health care providers. I’ve been with Gary most of my life. The “what ifs” are paralyzing me. I am also worried about work. Even if my office reopens in a week or two, how will I get there? Public transportation in my neighborhood means a standing room only bus and is out of the question for me under normal circumstances. Was it only a few weeks ago I was cracking my privileged person Uber jokes? I wonder if I will ever feel safe enough to Uber again. I wonder if Uber will even be in business. Walking to work takes an hour, I could conceivably do it in the morning, but after working all day, I would never make it home, it’s all uphill. I’m also shocked to realize how much I hate working from home. Home is my happy place, where I am zen. I’m not used to the office vibe here, and essentially being on call for eight hours with work taking precedent. I’m old. I don’t want to do this anymore. I am realizing how short life is. Please let Gary and I be able to retire healthy and enjoy lots of hard earned chill time together. Please.
*******************
Day 8, self quarantine: Yesterday I read the below article. I almost threw up and fainted but instead I ended up having a big talk with myself and decided to reset. I’m not going to make myself any sicker with anxiety about the future. I’m so neurotic under normal conditions, you don’t even want to know. Also, I realize I am lucky to be able to work from home in my pajamas and draw a paycheck. I can do this. For now, anyway. If I do decide to retire later this year, I’ll do it with a clear head and not under duress. This isn’t to say that I’m no longer terrified and doing my usual over-thinking— of course I am— but I am trying to focus on the present moment, because really, none of us are guaranteed any more than that, anyway.
********************

Day 9, self isolation. I’m too angered by the imbecile in the White House, a/k/a Dr. Dementia (because apparently he’s a doctor now) to post rationally. Money is more important than life. His fans are calling coronavirus the “Boomer Remover” even though dear leader is 73, but these are the same people who think he’s a devout Christian. So read the below tweet and weep because it’s where we’re headed. Sadly, as more people get sick within the coming days, he’s probably going to double down. God bless America.
****************

Day 10, self quarantine: Yesterday was a test of sorts with me - I had a work project which, if I were at the office, would have taken me an hour, tops. But our remote system is wonky, I kept getting kicked off, blah blah blah and it ended up taking all day. And then, as I was insanely frustrated, ready to throw my laptop against the wall, I got a call I wasn’t expecting. Apparently our office isn’t recession proof after all, and while my job is still safe, there will be painful changes and others in our tight knit group weren’t so lucky. We’ve only been home seven days. My first reaction was shock, then anger, but I’ve had the night to sleep on it, and really, my principal focus is that my family and I stay healthy. The statistics this morning are terrifying: Rapid acceleration of #Coronavirus cases in U.S.
Jan. 21: 1
Jan. 31: 7
Feb. 10: 13
Feb. 20: 27
Feb. 29: 70
Mar. 10: 1,018
Mar. 20: 17,935
Mar. 24: 53,470 (698 deaths)
(Sources: state and local health agencies, hospitals and C.D.C., compiled by Johns Hopkins Univ.)
The unhinged idiot in the White House may think we’re having a beautiful resurrection of returning to work on Easter but looking at these figures, his easter eggs will be all over his face. Anyway, I’m back to being very scared. STAY INDOORS.
*******************

Day 11, self quarantine: I finally took off my pajama bottoms after over a week and put on jeans. Not because I’planned on going out, but because I don’t want to eat any more rich, gooey calorie laden snacks. As expected, my jeans were already tight but I’m not freaking out. Every day that the people I love stay healthy is a good one. Since I was dressed, I decided to get some fresh air and walk the dog with Gary. It was my first time outside in days. We walked down our street, and I was shocked to see all the cherry blossom trees blooming. Then we turned the corner and saw a rainbow. A long walk is highly recommended. Be good to yourselves.

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Day 12, self quarantine: Does anybody know what time it is? What day? What month? Oh yeah, it’s daybreak, Friday, March 27, 2020. The Phillies should have opened their major league baseball season yesterday. Gary and I should have been having a VIP meet and greet tonight with John Mayall and Dave Mason (yeah, I sprung for the VIP package for Gary’s Christmas present) followed by front row seats for the show. Gary was so cute, he already had a question he wanted to ask Dave Mason, What was his favorite recording session? Since Dave recorded with George Harrison, Eric Clapton, Hendrix, Traffic, Delaney and Bonnie etc., I doubt it’s answerable — but really, it’s more of a tribute/acknowledgment, anyway. The email postponing the concert was totally expected and appreciated, though. And of course Eric, Natalie and Julie all had shows in Philadelphia in April and May which are postponed. I haven’t seen Julie since early January and Eric since early February and it occurs to me it could be summer until we’re together again. Arghhhhh. But Julie, Eric and Natalie have all been doing Instagram live shows which are a lot of fun so at least I get to “see” them and share in their musical lives. If you don’t follow them on Instagram, you should. In other news, work continues to stress me the hell out. Doing complex personal injury litigation from home with everything closed, including the courts, just feels silly during a pandemic but whatever. I can’t believe it was just a couple weeks ago, after six months of brutal work on back to back jury trials, I said to my boss, “Thank God things are finally back to normal. Yay for a normal work week just puttering around with all our files. I’m so happy.” I must have said that to him ten times between March 2-13. Friday the 13th would be the last day we worked. Yesterday, I asked my boss if he had any thoughts on when we might return to the office. He replied, “I’d love to be back by the end of Passover on April 20, but realistically we may not be back until early to mid May.” His reply basically left me paralyzed. This shit is getting real. Local news is scary. Philadelphia is being looked at as the next virus hotspot. In New York, less than two hours away, the morgues are overflowing and refrigeration trucks are grimly parked outside hospitals. There’s no rhyme or reason to this disease, it attacks all ages and for whatever reason, some people have mild symptoms and some people die. It’s so terrifying all we can do is stay informed but take it from me, you don’t want to read too much. Last night I went out with Gary to walk the dog again so I could take some deep breaths. Meanwhile, I don’t know if it’s because I live near the Art Museum in downtown Philadelphia and we’re kind of a hipster neighborhood but now the whole freaking area is decorated in rainbow balloons and I am so here for that. Oh well, onward! Happy Friday!
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Day 13, self quarantine: So yesterday Gary and I tried watching daytime television. Welp, Gary did, not me, I attempted to prepare a New Jersey Superior Court Motion to Amend Complaint at the dining room table while a neighbor used power tools and every dog in the neighborhood barked, including mine. Anyway, now I know why housewives take drugs. And oy vey, daytime tv.
Gary wouldn’t let me put on the Food Network and I wouldn’t let him watch a football game from 1992, so he flicked the channels and all that was on were reruns of sitcoms and game shows from the 70s. Gary put on Mary Tyler Moore. I looked at the screen.
“Oh my god, everyone’s dead except Betty White and Lou Grant,” I said. “Wait, I think Murray may still be alive. Who’s the guy who played Murray? I can never remember Murray’s real name.”
Gary looked at me and sighed. “Who cares?”
Errr...right.
Gary changed the channel to the Match Game. I looked at the host and six celebrity guests and started to speak but Gary interrupted me.
“Yeah, yeah, they’re all dead, too. Well, except Betty White. I know you were going to say it, don’t even try. Are we supposed to be upset that Charles Nelson Reilly is dead, Rob?”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “No, I’m saying we’re old. Everyone we watched on tv as kids is dead.”
Gary stuck his tongue back out at me. “No kidding. I like being old. We grew up in a much better time. And we had the Beatles.”
I looked at him sadly.
“Oh Jesus, you’re going to say something about John and George being dead, aren’t you. Just stop. They’re dead, we’re not, we’re just old. Old is good, Rob. Old is good.”
Well, duh. No shit “old is good.” Why do you think I’m so freaked out by the coronavirus? I want both of us to live another 25 years! Because you know, I’m kinda curious what 60 is like ðŸ˜œ
In better news, I continue to enjoy my daily walks with Gary and Jake. People are pretty intelligent in my ‘hood and at least where we take Jake, everyone is social distancing and wearing masks. I’m starting to think masks are the new normal, yeah, probably, because I just bought a couple hundred dollars worth of my discontinued Lancome lipstick on eBay. Also, the rainbow thing continues here, and now it’s a lot more than balloons, every home with a child has a different colorful interpretation. Gary and I smiled, thinking of what young Julie and Eric would have done with rainbows and free rein at Casa Slick. As I write this, I’m thinking I should do it. Okay, then, I will! I’m off to make some rainbows! Be safe everyone. Happy Saturday!

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Day 14, self quarantine: Happy Sunday. Wait, it’s Sunday, right?
And so begins week three of quarantine. It occurred to me that Gary and I could have been using the time indoors to do some much needed home improvements, but then I shrugged my shoulders. Everything is so fragile and scary right now. I don’t want to nag or be a taskmaster in the middle of an apocalypse. And okay, okay, we’re both klutzes. This is not a great time to visit an emergency room. Do you remember Tim the Tool Man? Gary is the liberal hippie version. He thinks he can fix anything but erm, no. Kinda the opposite, We can’t even get past step one, which is Where did he put his tools? And when we find the tools, the one he needs is always missing. You have to see us when he’s trying to fix something. He’s like the surgeon with terrible bedside manner and I’m his extremely reluctant, hapless nurse. I so don’t want to be there. And of course weed is involved. The last time I assisted was a couple weeks ago when I bought a new lamp, tried to put it together myself while he was sleeping because if I didn’t, it would have stayed in its box for five years, then of course I assembled it completely wrong and couldn’t take it apart.
“Screwdriver!”
I rustled through his toolbox, which is really an old semi- broken tackle box belonging to his late father and okay, the reason he can never find his tools is because every time I do a deep clean, I hide that skanky box and can never remember where.
“That’s not the one I want. I need the Phillips-head, you gave me the flathead. Jesus Christ.”
Oh, excuse me, I’m not telepathic, and by the way, why are there Happy Meal toys from 1989 in with your tools?
He yelled at me, I cursed back. I don’t understand why we just don’t hire contractors, he always insists on doing everything himself but he clearly hates it. He’s an artist, a chef! I’m so fine with that. If I wanted Tim the Tool Man, I would have married him.
So yeah, I’ll deal with the house later. Let’s live through this plague first.
Anyway, I’m not gonna lie, yesterday was rough. I’m doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t do - I’m reading too much. I signed out of the news, puttered around social media, and then I got an email from Bob Lefsetz.
“Are you scared yet? Tonight I am. I've been very diligent. I haven't seen a person face to face since I went to the drugstore on Monday the 16th. You see I don't want to get it, and I'm fearful if I do I'm not gonna make it through.”
In case you don’t know who Bob is: Bob Lefsetz is the author of “The Lefsetz Letter.” Famous for being beholden to no one and speaking the truth, Lefsetz addresses the issues that are at the core of the music business: downloading, copy protection, pricing and the music itself.
I said to myself DON’T READ THIS NO NO NO but I’m nothing if not a masochist hypochondriac with massive OCD so of course I read it and now I can’t stop thinking about it.
Seriously, I can’t stop re-reading it.
“That's what's happening now, reality is sinking in. You're gonna be in your house for a long time. And you might just get the coronavirus. And you, or people who are dear to you, might just die.”
Omg omg omg
Okay, Bob isn’t a doctor, he’s a bigger hypochondriac than I am, but he has leukemia and a comprised immune system so no shit he’s freaking out.
I’m getting more and more worried that Gary is still going to the store, even though he does go at dawn, during isolated seniors’ shopping. Everything I’m reading says the next two weeks are going to be awful. We have enough food and toilet paper...I need to make him understand. This is when his Rebel Without a Cause refusal to get an iPhone or watch the news makes me insane.
So my plan is to get Gary to watch a little national and maybe even international news today, just enough to get him to understand why I’m so worried. And if that doesn’t work, I’m gonna sic the kids on him. Because, you know, love ❤️
As far as rainbows, all the Christmas lights in Casa Slick are back on! And there’s going to be a pot of from scratch tomato sauce on the stove later today...the tomatoes have already been roasted and the house is still so fragrant! At least for today, life is good. Here’s to even better days tomorrow.

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Day 15, self quarantine: Welcome to Monday, week three of the working from home debacle. Yesterday, I started to hyperventilate. I had like 87 emails from my boss on a Sunday and enough tasks to keep me busy through 2021. The wireless keyboard and mouse I ordered to help me work faster on my laptop did not arrive on Saturday as promised due to “high demand “ a/k/a everyone in America had the same idea...sigh...it will now be here Thursday. I knew I couldn’t blame my crappy productivity on my crappy equipment much longer so I decided to get serious and set up an actual office. Goodbye dining room table, television, Gary, and Jake, hello my new pop-up office in daughter Julie’s former bedroom. I posted some pics so you can see I’m now happily surrounded by all of Julie’s rainbows, including Christmas lights. Even though Julie moved out around 15 years ago, I always loved her room so I didn’t touch it, welp, except for adding the promotional posters from a couple novels I wrote. Also, during her 5 year nomad period and beyond, Julie still crashed here between tours. So yeah, this is a pretty cool home office. Julie even has a real desk and comfortable chair. I’m such a dope, I can’t believe I’ve been struggling at the table on a counter-stool for the last two weeks. But I liked hanging with the boys, distracting as that was. The other problem I’ve been having is, I’ve been working, Gary has not. His job has no remote capability and his office, which is attached to a warehouse, is considered life sustaining so they’re open. When I tell you it’s a petri dish for coronavirus on several levels, believe me. The kids and I put our foot down. He’s over 60 and a smoker. Right now he’s using vacation time. He’s got several weeks so we don’t have to make any decisions yet, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s now retired. I just have to convince him. Haha, something tells me that’s not gonna be a problem. So we’re blessed in that regard. As for me, yeah, I can officially retire in August though I hadn’t planned on it. But then again, none of us could possibly have planned on any of this. Cities shut down. Major league sports shuttered. Live music silenced. Social freaking distancing. It’s total science fiction.
It’s our new reality.
So wish me luck in my new office today. And hey, maybe without me to hang out with, Gary may actually start a home improvement project around here. Haha. Nah. ðŸ˜Ž

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Day 16
Day 16, self quarantine: Happy Tuesday. So at least yesterday I was pretty productive in my new home office, even if I did spend all day on one thing.

“Just keep it basic,” my boss said. I love my boss dearly, he’s beyond amazing, but I’ve been working with him for three years. Nothing is ever basic though he tricks me into believing it every damn time.

Draft one was returned with a note: “Shouldn’t “we” (quotes added) talk about the Defendants’ Motion for Summary Judgment in our Motion?”

No. No we should not. Ugh, it meant I actually had to read the thing.

Draft two returned: “We (there’s that “we” again) should probably also include a discussion about their Motion for Third Party Complaint.”

Really? For the love of God why?

Normally I’d be cool with all this but I’m using the office laptop which is a clunky Dell because for whatever reason, my fairly new MacBook Air wasn’t compatible with our remote system. It takes me forever to switch in and out of programs, and every time I tried to unbold one of my boss’ notes, I ended up deleting everything. Arghhh. I started letting out primal screams.

Gary heard me from downstairs and brought me a cup of hot coffee because my shaking, shrieking body clearly needed more caffeine but I thanked him, anyway and he looked at me like a sad little boy who had no one to play with.

I wanted to play! I’m so not having a good time. And I miss my real office and all the people — I actually like everyone there ðŸ˜Ž

But I realize these are beyond first world problems so I’ll shut up.

For real, in between making changes in my Motion all day, every time I got frustrated I remembered people not lucky enough to be getting a paycheck, there’s people suddenly out of work, basically penniless and terrified. Especially people in service industries. I thought of my hair stylist. Okay, I have been thinking of my hair stylist every freaking day for the last three weeks every time I look in the mirror and see an inch of gray roots and realize this is gonna happen. Actually, assuming we live through this pandemic, I’m doing it, I already have the pic with the color I want. Also, my unibrow is taking over the top half of my face but I’m growing fond of it and named it Babs. Okay, okay, I’m not that fond of Babs but the eyebrow scissors I bought in a panic right before the quarantine turned out to be a nail scissors with curved blades...completely useless and tell me how you can even use it on your nails unless your nails grow on a curve? Wtf do I know, I suck at this stuff. That’s why I (used to) go to nail/wax salons.

Anyway, my hair stylist is doing fine and provided me with some much needed comic relief when he replied to my text checking in on him.

“I’m good,” he said. “I’m finally a housewife!”

😂😂😂

Who am I kidding? I’m already fantasizing about getting us both hazmat suits so he can come over and give me a touch up.

But seriously. I joke around a lot because it’s how I deal, along with writing. I’m pretty scared, for myself, my loved ones, our country...the world. Right now all I really care about is everyone staying safe and healthy. Everything else is bullshit.

And with that, I’m off to get my head together for work.😎
And with that, I’m off to get my head together for work.😎

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Day 17, self quarantine: Yesterday, just as Bob Lefsetz predicted in his email, I heard names of people I knew critically ill with coronavirus. Then I read a couple of obituaries.  Up until now, my quarantine thoughts have centered around work, keeping Gary the super shopper out of supermarkets, and this whole surreal social distancing experience. Of course I’ve also read horrifying first person accounts written by survivors and medical professionals. Some are so graphic and gruesome I couldn’t finish reading but yeah, what I did read stayed with me and made me queasy with fear.  So I’ve tried not to think about it. Much.

Last night after dinner, I was sprawled out on the sofa, playing on my phone, when I realized something.

I didn’t feel well.

I had that weird achy feeling and I had a headache and vaguely sore throat.  Terror washed over me.  I looked over at Gary, who was happily watching a Simpsons’ rerun and eating grapes.  I didn’t say anything because I don’t have a good reputation around here - I really can be a hypochondriac and we’ve already established I read too much.  But this is not the time to be the Old Lady Who Cried Wolf.  Instead I quietly googled coronavirus symptoms, even though you know damn well I’ve got them memorized, and tried not to have a full-fledged panic attack.

About panic attacks.  I used to get them, I haven’t had one in years and I take zero medication, which was not always the case.  Some day I will write about that, but anyway, the scariest part of my panic attacks was not being able to catch my breath. 

So when I read about this disease, it’s my worst nightmare.

I was afraid to go to bed last night.  I was scared I would wake up in the middle of the night, deathly ill and gasping for air.  Have I mentioned I’m a hypochondriac?

I went upstairs with Gary anyway, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I started to lose it.   Why is everything so much more terrifying at night? I mumbled something about needing a glass of water and tried to slip out of the bedroom quietly.  I don’t like Gary to know I’m a lunatic. 

Okay, he knows but I try to at least cosplay normal 😎

“Stay here.  I’ll get it for you.  Are you alright? You have a goofy look on your face.”

“Yes,” I tried to keep my voice even.  “Seriously, I’ll go.”  

Oh my God, I needed air.  And when I make myself nuts like that, please don’t fuss over me, I am a mental patient and I need to be alone.

Thank god he didn’t try and stop me.  I went downstairs, opened the front door and took in big gulps of hopefully not virus infected air and tried to decide if I was sick, nuts or both.  Optimistically, I went with nuts.

Back in the living room, I watched a midnight episode of Chopped.  It was a show featuring fried food in every course and it was pretty appalling.  

It’s my happy place.

I fell asleep sitting on the sofa and woke up with both feet asleep, just in time for Comcast to do that very fitting end of the world 4:00 a.m. emergency broadcast siren that is only a test. 

There was no sense going upstairs, I was awake.  I limped into the kitchen on my still asleep feet, made a pot of coffee and started writing this.

And by the way, I feel fine.

But this quarantine is clearly getting to me.

Day 16, self quarantine: Happy Tuesday.  So at least yesterday I was pretty productive in my new home office, even if I did spend all day on one thing.  

“Just keep it basic,” my boss said.  I love my boss dearly, he’s beyond amazing, but I’ve been working with him for three years.  Nothing is ever basic though he tricks me into believing it every damn time.

Draft one was returned with a note:  “Shouldn’t “we” (quotes added) talk about the Defendants’ Motion for Summary Judgment in our Motion?”

No.  No we should not.  Ugh, it meant I actually had to read the thing.

Draft two returned:  “We (there’s that “we” again) should probably also include a discussion about their Motion for Third Party Complaint.”

Really?  For the love of God why?

Normally I’d be cool with all this but I’m using the office laptop which is a clunky Dell because for whatever reason, my fairly new MacBook Air wasn’t compatible with our remote system.  It takes me forever to switch in and out of programs, and every time I tried to unbold one of my boss’ notes, I ended up deleting everything.  Arghhh. I started letting out primal screams.

Gary heard me from downstairs and brought me a cup of hot coffee because my shaking, shrieking body clearly needed more caffeine but I thanked him, anyway and he looked at me like a sad little boy who had no one to play with.

I wanted to play!  I’m so not having a good time.  And I miss my real office and all the people — I actually like everyone there 😎

But I realize these are beyond first world problems so I’ll shut up.

For real, in between making changes in my Motion all day, every time I got frustrated I remembered people not lucky enough to be getting a paycheck, there’s people suddenly out of work, basically penniless  and terrified.  Especially people in service industries.  I thought of my hair stylist. Okay, I have been thinking of my hair stylist every freaking day for the last three weeks every time I look in the mirror and see an inch of gray roots and realize this is gonna happen. Actually, assuming we live through this pandemic, I’m doing it, I already have the pic with the color I want. Also, my unibrow is taking over the top half of my face but I’m growing fond of it and named it Babs.  Okay, okay, I’m not that fond of Babs but the eyebrow scissors I bought in a panic right before the quarantine turned out to be a nail scissors with curved blades...completely useless and tell me how you can even use it on your nails unless your nails grow on a curve? Wtf do I know, I suck at this stuff. That’s why I (used to) go to nail/wax salons.

Anyway, my hair stylist is doing fine and provided me with some much needed comic relief when he replied to my text checking in on him.

“I’m good,”  he said. “I’m finally a housewife!” 

😂😂😂

Who am I kidding?  I’m already fantasizing about getting us both hazmat suits so he can come over and give me a touch up.

But seriously.  I joke around a lot because it’s how I deal, along with  writing.  I’m pretty scared, for myself, my loved ones, our country...the world.  Right now all I really care about is everyone staying safe and healthy. Everything else is bullshit.

And with that, I’m off to work.


Monday, July 01, 2019

You can thank me later...

Good morning!  I'm starting this very patriotic week off by doing my civic duty.  You can thank me later.

Thursday, January 10, 2019

Where have I been?

Oh hell, I stopped blogging again, just as I got started last year.  Welp, I had a health issue in July which knocked me on my butt for half the summer and then I was so damn busy trying to catch up, I totally forgot about blogging. 

Also, I have Facebook and Twitter to play with and that's a lot easier.

So what's new?  I'll fill you in shortly.  I still hate the President with a passion but I loathe his supporters more, especially the Evangelicals who anxiously await the rapture...i.e., the death of Jews, of which I am one.

When you see/listen to his supporters, you realize how badly the public school system in this country has failed.

And you realize how grotesque organized religion is.

Okay, the end for now.  Got lots to report, just wanted to get my feet wet again.

xo

Thursday, October 25, 2018

The Psycho Projector



This is the most vile, sickest imbecile our country has ever encountered, and the fact that he is President is unthinkable.


I have seriously never hated anyone so much in my life.




Please.  Vote on November 6, 2018.  Vote Democrat.  This man, the complicit Congress and courts - all out of control, money grubbing criminals who are raping and pillaging America.  His supporters?  Serious hideous idiots, mentally ill racists, homophobes and misogynists.

VOTE BLUE.

Our democracy depends on it.

Thanks.

Monday, August 13, 2018

Today's edition of Not Normal....








Thursday, July 05, 2018

Buh-bye



And another member of the Trump Bible Study Group has bit the dust.

Buh-bye, Pruitt.  Gosh I hate you and everyone who looks like you.

And what do you know, Trump lied for a change.  I'm going to surround myself with the best cabinet ever, he said.

 He sure did fill the swamp but now it appears to be self-draining.

Who's next?

Monday, July 02, 2018

An open letter to the Food Network

Dear Food Network, and your ugly little step-sister, Cooking Channel:

I am trying, in this era of Trump, to combat his meanness and negativity with just the opposite.  I am trying to be kinder and softer, and for the most part, I have.  But there are two exceptions to my new rule, people who support Trump, and, the Food Network.

I know, I know.  With everything that's going on - babies in cages, the end of net neutrality, Pruitt, Zinke, and the hellacious timing of Justice Kennedy's retirement and the possible ramifications of a challenge to Roe v Wade and I dunno, the appointment of a new Supreme Court judge who thinks a President should also be King...Robin, why do you care about the Food Network?  Well, I'll tell you.  It's where I go to escape from reality, and for the past several years, it's worked out well for me.  BUT WHAT THE HELL HAS HAPPENED TO THEIR PROGRAMMING?  WHY DO I NEED TO SEE GUY FIERI FOUR DAYS/NIGHTS A WEEK?


Listen, one night of Guy Fieri is too much.  The dude can't cook, he's loud, he yells at the camera, and his fans all look like they all wear MAGA hats.  The entire free world makes fun of Guy Fieri.  Look at him!  The dude loves Nickleback!


Hilarious, right?

I also don't want to see this witch for an hour every morning, every afternoon, and how many freaking times on the weekend?


Good lord, how can anyone stand to listen to that chalk on a blackboard voice?  And her recipes...oy vey!  I guess if you like Cool Whip and Velveeta, she's your woman.  But oh, how she lies like Trump with her "life on the ranch is such hard work" bullshit.  She's filthy rich, with a staff.  And oh yeah, there's some fishy business surrounding the Drummond family:  http://www.parispi.net/opinion/columns/article_abc1f17c-d021-11e5-91bc-03a17ef34dca.html

So Food Network (and Cooking Channel), what the hell?  Why are you putting these obnoxious people on your station, which is called FOOD NETWORK.  Neither one can teach a person anything about cooking and fine dining.  We don't want to watch them play act in their ridiculous mansions with the insane custom kitchens.

Which of course brings us right here:


No, no, no, no.  We don't want to look at this, nor do we want to watch her cook, since it's now public knowledge that she doesn't EAT.  She has a spit bucket for Chrisssakes.

Also on this list of unappetizing people who did not go to culinary school and simply shout or vamp for the camera:


Sunny and Katie Lee, how the hell are you famous?  Sunny, if it's not made with store bought ingredients, she's not interested, and Katie's claim to fame?  She married Billy Joel when he was like 90 and she was like 20. 

No

Just...no.

I can't even really comment on these two, other than to say their appearance as hosts on Wedding Cake Championship is probably the worst thing I've seen on television...EVER.  As was the show itself.



Speaking of baking shows, which genius chose this imbecile as a Judge on Best Baker of America?


Are you kidding me?  You looked at all possible candidates to judge internationally award winning bakers and you chose the country bumpkin home baker who won a clearly fixed contest?  That was so embarrassing. 

So where does that leave us?   Well, we still have Tuesday and Thursday nights, which are still dedicated to Chopped and Bobby Flay.  The Chopped kids are cool, but WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WHEN YOU ADDED THIS P.O.S.?


Why?  Why?  Martha Stewart is the world's biggest pain in the ass.  Nobody wants to be like her.  No one with a brain takes her seriously.  NO ONE WITH AN APPETITE WANTS TO EAT HER FOOD.  And what's really scary is, I looked up her age.  Holy hell, she's 76.  How much Botox has she had?????



So now Chopped is ruined, too.

I think even Bobby Flay knows where the Food Network is headed.  It's a dumpster fire.  He quit Iron Chef, and to my knowledge, his only gigs now are Beat Bobby Flay and once a year, Food Network Star.

Um, about Food Network Star this year.  There isn't one.  A star, I mean.  Omg, where did you find that group?  The only chef even remotely appealing is Chris, the guy from NY.  The rest of them aren't even pleasant to look at (your usual only qualification, with the exception of Jason Smith, who is just so freaking horrible and weird you had to pick him).  Ha ha, I didn't watch last night's show yet, so what do you bet Chris was sent home?  Nah...I think I'm right and the fix is already in and he's the winner.  We haven't had a white dude win since Jeff Mauro won in 2011.  Wait a sec, I'm wrong.  Didn't a pervert win shortly thereafter? Lenny something...he looked like a porn star...



Hahahaha - I just looked him up.  Fail, Food Network.  You really failed big time with Lenny in 2014.  https://www.mediaite.com/food/reports-link-new-food-network-star-lenny-mcnab-to-some-uh-sordid-online-history-1/

Oh, and let's talk about Beat Bobby Flay.  No, let's not.  Could that program be any more FIXED?  Bobby is like Zoro -  he leaves the sign of the Z in everything he cooks, only in his case, that would be Calabrian chiles.  So of course anyone judging that show knows what Bobby cooked, Jesus, he puts chiles in ice cream....

Let me see.  Have I forgotten anyone?  Hmm...let's take the high road and talk about what's good on the Food Network.

Alex, Amanda, Marcus, Marc, Scott, Chris andTed from the Chopped gang are all smart, funny, and went to freaking culinary school.  I love the Chopped kids...oh wait...I thought of another Chopped exception:


Ugh.  No, Maneet.  That is one shit eating grin.  You are mean and nasty, and not everything has to be spicy.  The other two judges will say positive, nurturing things, and you jump right in there with the knife.  Funny, I've never seen you win a cooking competition.

Other real chefs I respect on the network are Jeff Mauro, Geoffrey Zakarian, Damaris Phillips and Ina Garten.  And while not a chef, I love old guard Alton Brown.

These people are real chefs, not TV personalities like the goofballs mentioned above.

Finally, Food Network, your programming has been hideous.  Where are shows for actual cooks and bakers?  Vegetarians?  Asian food?  The entire U.S. isn't from the South and Midwest.    Instead, you give us:  CARNIVAL FREAKING EATS!  GINORMOUS FOODS!  MAN VS FIRE!  DALLAS CAKES!  VEGAS CAKES!   We also don't want to see Z List former celebrities Valerie Bertinelli, Tiffany Thiessen, Patti LaBelle, Rev Run COOK.  THEY CAN'T TEACH US ANYTHING AND THEY ARE LIKE WOODEN STATUES IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA!

Seriously, are you guys in programming all there?  Or do you think that just because Trump is President, the entire country is a TRAILER PARK?!

Aw, screw it.  I'm just gonna watch the Great British Baking Show on PBS and reruns of Top Chef on Netflix.

SCREW YOU, FOOD NETWORK.

(But not the guys from Chopped)

(Except Martha Stewart)

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

I feel better now.

Back to music tomorrow.

xoxo