Evil Miss J9 - The Evil Martha Stewart

Update

2009-02-21T08:00:00.002-06:00

So in the past month or so, a number of people I know have been bugging me about my writing. Some are people that I knew back in high school, who recently read some of my stuff, others are new friends who feel that I could/should write a book, and then there's me.

Writing has always been a way for me to release energy. Sometimes the energy is merely creative, but other times the energy is angry or sad, and needs to come out. Lately I haven't had an outlet for this energy, and I've been finding myself feeling "off" more and more.

So I'm going to go back through my blogs, and unarchive the entries that won't hurt anyone, or bring up too much pain. I may also start posting again, although I'm not exactly at that place yet. We'll see. Only time will tell.

To those of you who are new, enjoy this glimpse into my past. To those of you who were long time readers and supporters, I hope you find this as a trip down memory lane. So many of you made this journey with me.

As always, in evil, j9.

Explanation Time

2008-08-14T22:51:00.003-05:00

Well, as you may have noticed, my blog has gone to archive.

All 536 posts.

I started this blog over two years ago as a way to express myself, sort of an online diary. Granted I took some risks in publishing some VERY personal information about myself, and how I felt, and what made me who I am today. But ultimately, I decided that, no matter how painful it was to sometimes type the words, they described where I was at that time in my life.

In recent months, I questioned myself as to whether I should continue to blog. Things had gotten so much better in my life, and for the first time in a LONG time, I actually felt good about myself, about my life, about my relationship, and about where I saw myself heading. I knew there was some information on the blog that could raise some questions, but was prepared to face whatever scrutiny there would/could be.

Unfortunately, I didn't necessarily think things all the way through.

Now, because of my words, I've hurt someone I care about very deeply. Because of my actions, I have caused pain in someone that I felt could potentially be the family I've so desperately wanted all my life. My insecurities, and self doubts, and irrational fears resulted in a decision that at the time seemed like the right thing to do.

But all it has done is cause this person to lose all trust and respect for me.

I can't change my past. It is what it is. I can only hope to learn from the past, and take my experiences (both good and bad) and learn from them. I had hoped that I would be able to look to my future, but it seems as if I am destined to be haunted by my past.

I cannot express how sorry I am for any pain my actions may have caused. My intentions were never to hurt anyone, much less someone I can't imagine being without.

I also know that archiving my blog tonight was probably "too little, too late". But I had to do it.

I couldn't look at it, add a post, or read an old post without hating myself inside.

So ultimately, the blog did what I hoped it would do. It helped me heal myself and become the person I truly wanted to be.

Unfortunately, I managed to screw that one up also.

So goodnight readers. I don't know if or when I'll be back.

Right now my only concern is trying to make sense of the last six hours, and deciding how I REALLY feel, and what I REALLY want.

And mostly trying to erase the hurt, both that I caused, and that I feel.

Thursday Thirteen.

2008-08-14T13:01:00.006-05:00

It's been a while since I've posted a Thursday Thirteen.

Hell, I barely realize it's Thursday!

This has been a crazy few days, with Softball Tuesday night, THEN a drive to Turkey Hill, a seminar all day yesterday and a drive home from Turkey Hill. 10 hours in a car, 8 hours in a convention center style chair, and three hours of sleep from Tuesday morning till Wednesday night makes for a very tired J9.

But that's the way the job goes some times.

So today I give you my Thursday Thirteen.

Thirteen Things I Need To Do More Often:

1. Pick up the phone and call.
2. Clean the windows in my house.
3. Start my day actually organizing what I hope to complete.
4. Talk to God.
5. Listen to other music with an open ear.
6. Remind myself that it is not only possible, but quite probable, that everything is not going to crumble around me, and that I'm going to fuck it up.
7. Tell the people closest to me how much they mean to me.
8. Take an hour to read while soaking in the tub.
9. Snack on something healthy instead of anything I can find.
10. Think twice before I buy.
11. Try new recipes.
12. Listen to others opinions and advice.
13. Be patient.

Why Jack Black Rocks.

2008-08-07T13:03:00.004-05:00

Recently CLB and I watched "High Fidelity", one of the best movies, EVER.

It remains one of my favorite books, and I'll admit that when I initially heard it was being made into a movie, I was hesitant. Then I heard they had plucked John Cusack for the lead, and I knew it would be good. But I never pictured Barry as a Jack Black type when reading the book. Now that I've seen the movie, I can't picture Barry any other way.

After seeing the movie, I caught Tenacious D's performance of "Squeezebox" from the Vh1 Rock Honors of The Who.

And I remembered even more why I love Jack Black. Mad and I have seen Tenacious D in concert a few times, including a great show at the American Theatre (before it's redo). For two fat guys with guitars and oddly good vocals, they kick some proverbial musical ass.

See for yourself!

The ongoing issues with Anthem

2008-08-07T10:44:00.004-05:00

Unbeknownst to me, Anthem has taken over Blue Cross/Blue Shield.

When I first heard the news, I didn't give it much thought, as both Mad and I have insurance through BCBS of California (MTQ and 3DB are both based out of Southern CA). I thought it was only affecting people with BCBS of MO.

Prime example, NoBeatDebi.

Late last year, during the Christmas holiday, NBD started having some back problems. She initially thought she had pulled a muscle or something similar, but the pain didn't go away after the usual amount of time. She went to doctors, who referred her to specialists, and to make a long story short, she was eventually diagnosed with a degenerative disc disease.

Which sucks.

Essentially, this is an ongoing problem that will get worse (and already has). After a variety of tests, prodding, probing, MRIs, etc. etc., it was decided that she needed surgery to correct the problem. After mentally preparing herself for the surgery, she took all the necessary steps, making arrangments for work, for day care of her youngest child, and all the red tape and hoops you have to jump through for major surgery.

The DAY BEFORE she was scheduled to have surgery, she gets a phone call from the surgeon's office and a Fedex letter from Anthem. They have denied her surgery, claiming it isn't necessary. Sure, the surgery will cost in the $70k range, but she is at a point where she cannot stand for more than 30 or 45 minutes without being in severe pain. She can barely walk without assistance from a cane or a walker, and doing simple tasks like laundry or grocery shopping are just out of the question.

She is in the process of appealing their decision, and is now on her THIRD opinion. She is on extremely high doses of pain medication to just barely function, and is essentially a prisoner in her own home.

In fact, she is so bored and frustrated with life, that she has started her own blog Photos from Isolation in an effort to bring some normalcy back into her world.

I hate that she has to go through this, and try to make sure to call her and help keep her spirits up. We'll be reaching that 25 year mark of friendship this fall (we met on my 13th birthday, the first day of high school). And to see someone that close to me be in such pain, both physically and emotionally, just hurts me. It's things like this that remind me that I should be having my own conversations with God much more often.

Back to the main story.

On 7/17, I had my annual physical. Yeah, I'm kind of a dork, and I get a physical every year. But I have an underactive thyroid, and being adopted I don't really have a medical background of my family, so I'd rather be preventative than find out one day (probably while laying on the floor with someone beating on my chest to keep me alive) that my heart isn't in the best working condition.

On Saturday, I get my standard Explanation of Benefits in the mail. First off, I notice that it no longer says BCBS of CA on the EOB, but states VERY clearly Anthem.

Shit.

Then I notice that they didn't cover the physical, as it isn't part of my coverage.

WTF????

Are you kidding me? They won't cover a $150 physical that could prevent them from covering a $15k illness/operation/hospital stay? This sucks.

So Monday I call Anthem to determine why the service wasn't covered, and to see what I need to do to avoid owing my Doctor $150. After countless minutes on hold (listening to the CRAPPIEST muzak EVER), I get CSRStupidtown on the phone.

EJ9: Hello, I have a question about an EOB and services that weren't covered.
CSRS: Ok. How can I help you.
EJ9: I noticed that the services on 7/17 were denied. Could you please explain to me why a physical isn't covered under my plan.
CSRS: That claim was denied due to a non-covered diagnosis.
EJ9: Yes, I can read that. I was curious why the diagnosis was uncovered. It was an annual physical.
CSRS: Well the diagnosis code your doctor's office used was V709.
EJ9: Ok. What does that mean?
CSRS: That diagnosis isn't covered.
EJ9: (growing slightly frustrated) I realize that. What does diagnosis code V709 stand for.
CSRS: Oh. It's "unspecified general medical exam".
EJ9: Ok. Does my plan cover an annual physical?
CSRS: I don't know. You'd have to check with the coverage department to determine that.
EJ9: Ok. Is there a diagnosis code for "annual physical"?
CSRS: Of course. If your doctor's office resubmits the claim with the proper diagnosis code it will be covered.
EJ9: (thinking why would you know this if you didn't know my coverage?) So, my doctor can resubmit and, provided the right diagnosis code is submitted, the claim should be paid.
CSRS: That's what I said, isn't it?
EJ9: (growing more and more frustrated) What exactly is the diagnosis code the doctor's office should use?
CSRS: I don't know that. The doctor's office will know it though.
EJ9: Really? Because I would assume that if they knew the correct code they would have used that to start with, rather than have the claim denied.
CSRS: What do you want me to say ma'am?
EJ9: Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Thank you SOOOO much for your help.

Of course, I contacted my doctor's office and advised them of the claim being denied, and that it could be resubmitted. I do NOT want to be charged the $150 for a service that should be covered. I do NOT want to deal with Anthem any more.

I can't even imagine the frustration NoBeatDebi's going through with these fucktards. Considering a simple procedure like a physical can't even get approved, I can't imagine how difficult her fight is going to get.

But she shouldn't worry. No matter how difficult it gets, I'll stand beside her, even if it's to act as a crutch so she can stand tall and bitch at them at the top of our lungs!

Hugo has left the building.

2008-08-02T18:41:00.007-05:00

First a bit of backstory.

I moved into Connecticut House in 2004. I got frustrated with my current landlords, and stumbled across this place, just a mere two blocks away from where I lived. I made a phone call, and within a day had met the owner, viewed the place, and decided it was meant for me. I was moved in 45 days later, and I just signed a lease through March, 2010.

The owner lived on the first floor when I first moved in, although she was there very infrequently. Her boyfriend (then fiance and now her husband) lived less than a mile away in a VERY cool house along TGPark, so they spent quite a bit of time there. Over the first year or so, she redid her bathroom, rehabbed certain needy areas in her place, and then upon getting engaged, she moved out and rented the place to a 3rd year law student. After the law student moved out, Mad moved in and we are here today. I would consider the landlords to be reasonably good friends of mine. They are good landlords, and very cool people. We went to their wedding, they came to 4th of July and my 40th bday party.

Last year, Owner and Hubby had an opportunity to move to Istanbul and teach for a year. They would earn more than twice their annual salaries, working just three days a week, had a colleague that was going to stay at their home in StL, essentially covering the majority of their local bills. Their living expenses would be far less than in StL, so the decision to teach in Istanbul wasn't a difficult one.

However, nothing goes easy, and their tenant moved out a month early (before they came home), and left the three cats that he was housesitting. Family and neighbors moved into high gear, making sure the two outdoor cats had food, water, and were alive, and going in daily to visit, feed and water Hugo, the indoor cat.

This fall, they are returning for another year of teaching in Istanbul. However, the person that is going to be living in their place already has a dog and a cat, so they were looking for a temporary home for Hugo. They approached me out of sheer lack of available choices. I told them Mad was allergic, but that I was willing to give it a trial run for a week or so.

So Hugo arrived at Connecticut House last Saturday.

Scared shitless and ANGRY at his Mommy and Daddy.

I did my best to try and make Hugo comfortable. He quickly found his favorite spot, underneath the bed in the master bedroom. MY bed.

We went out Saturday night, to return to find Hugo sitting in the kitchen window, longingly staring at the garage door, awaiting the return of Mommy and Daddy. Upon hearing us in the kitchen, he bolted out of the room faster than Superman.

Sunday morning rolls around and CLB and I cannot locate Hugo. We search EVERYWHERE, and soon I'm freaking out. I call his Mommy and Daddy, and ask them to stop by and see if they can coax Hugo out. At this point, CLB is telling me it is in my best interest to have them take Hugo home. He is sure I will grow attached to this animal, and that I'm thinking about the problems down the road.

The owners arrive Sunday afternoon (after CLB, Fiddy and I had played kickball and visited the league sponsoring pub). They find Hugo under the disco couch, all crawled up in it's lining. JUST what I want to have happen. They sit with him for a while, calming him down, and they have CLB and I sit with them and Hugo both individually and collectively, so Hugo can realize we are all one happy family.

Who knew cats could be such trouble?

As the week develops, so does a pattern. Hugo spends the first day or so hiding under my bed, and roaming the house while we sleep, or under the living room couch if we are in the bedroom, but not asleep. After a day or so of this, I begin my mornings after CLB leaves with coaxing Hugo out, giving him some love and attention, and then shutting both bedroom doors, leaving him to hide either under the living room couch, or on the dining room chairs.

This works for a few days, although he is still skittish, and barely acknowledges either CLB or myself. He'll allow me to pet him, and after being properly petted will allow me to drag him out of wherever he is hiding, but immediately runs for cover once he's done, or at the slightest sound or movement.

Then, the headaches and allergies set in. By Thursday, Mad has a blazing headache, his eyes are scratchy, and he just feels like crap. I notice my sinuses bothering me more than usual, and I find myself waking up all clogged up and nasally. I'm sure sleeping over the cat's favorite place didn't help much.

By Saturday morning, we realize that, unfortunate as it is, we are not going to be able to house Hugo for the upcoming school year. Mad is miserable, which in turn makes me miserable, which in turn makes CLB miserable, and so on, and so on, and so on. I make the fateful call to the owners, and break the news to them. Of course they are sad, as they had hoped Hugo had found a loving (albeit temporary) home. Plus they are faced with trying to find a place for him with less than three weeks before they leave.

But I tried. That's all I can say. I feel for them, and the predicament they are in. But after a Saturday afternoon of vaccuuming, wiping down woodwork and upholstery, and mopping floors, the remnants of Hugo are few and far between. By Sunday morning, Mad's headache was dissipating, and my sinuses had returned to normal (or as normal as they can be in StL).

And that, my friends, is reason # 4,329 that I will probably never get a cat.

Damn, September is going to be hectic!

2008-08-01T09:07:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I am a glutton for punishment.

But I do enjoy a hectic pace sometimes, as it seems that time flies when your plate is full. This has been a crazy summer, with an unusually large work load, a new relationship, and I've added KickBall on Sundays to my sporting adventures.

So although it seems that I was just out of town, it was time to plan some getaways.

The first trip is planned for 9/3 - 9/9, and Mad and I are heading to our favorite Florida destination, Panama City Beach. We've opted to fly this year instead of drive (largely due to the time, but also due to an amazing deal on Northwest Airlines). But we've booked the same lodging as usual, and are both looking forward to a relaxing week on the beach with nothing planned, other than a day at Shell Island and possibly an all day fishing charter.

The second trip is planned for 9/13 - 9/18, and CLB and I are heading to Vegas (via LA), partially courtesey of the company, as I have a sales/new product meeting planned for 9/16 and 9/17. So my flight to LA is covered, as is Monday expenses. CLB leaves Tuesday morning, so we have Saturday and Sunday out of our pockets, and the rest of the trip on the company. We aren't planning much, but have our hotel and flights to Vegas booked.

Essentially, I work the day after Labor Day, am out of the office for five days, work three days, and then take off for Vegas, have one day off, work for three, then am back in StL, just in time for Mad's 45th birthday.

To top it off, I'd like to do something celebratory for Mad's birthday. When he turned 40, he kept saying he didn't want a party, and was even against getting everyone together for dinner and drinks. But, when we went out that night to celebrate, he was somewhat down that I hadn't planned some sort of surprise for him.

I've asked him how he wants to celebrate, and he keeps saying he doesn't want his birthday acknowledged in any way. He's "too damn old to celebrate", which is just ridiculous. I'd be willing to have friends come over for some BBQ and cocktails, or even try to get everyone together at a location of his choice, but I'm not sure if I should.

So, any ideas? I'd love to be a big dork and plan a bowling party for the Sunday after his birthday. He likes bowling, as do many of our friends, and that limits the amount of prep work I have to do for the event. All I'd have to do is make a cake and have some munchies available in case anyone wants to come back to the house after bowling.

But if he's not going to enjoy it, why even bother? I need to pick his brain and find out what he REALLY wants. The best time to do that would be in FL, while completely relaxed on the beach. But I'm not sure if I can plan something that quickly, much less while out of town.

Although, I have planned larger things from a longer distance. . . .

The perfect way to start a weekend.

2008-07-25T15:12:00.004-05:00

This has been one weird week. Not necessarily a bad week, but weird.

Emotionalfuckingrollercoasterfromhell week, if I must say so myself.

I'm happy to close this week out, and begin my weekend on a bright note. And because there is a God, albeit not in the organized form everyone wants you to believe in, the sky parted and the heavens started singing a few moments ago.

Electric Six just announced their Fall tour schedule.

They are hitting StL on 10/22 at Fubar on Olive Street. But don't get excited, tickets are not on sale just yet.

However, they are touring with Local H.

Yes, the Local H that once held the honor of being the most expensive concert ever, on a dollar value per song basis. (Until the Racounteurs a few months ago.)

I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait. I can't wait.

They have a new album out.

Must download. . .

On a lighter note. . .

2008-07-23T11:29:00.004-05:00

. . .they say that people die in threes.

FeFetheMonkey and ClubUniqua have both lost their mothers. Should I anticipate another death in the circle of people I know? I'm not to thrilled about that, you know.

Or does Estelle Getty, the cranky ass Sophia from the Golden Girls count as the third? She died yesterday or today, so expect a Golden Girls marathon on Lifetime any day now.

Oh wait. Lifetime is already pretty close to a GG marathon.

Anyway, I'm going to count her as #3. She was QueenAlonzo's surrogate mother!

Another solemn note for the day.

2008-07-23T11:14:00.004-05:00

Last week, I told you about FeFetheMonkey's Ma's passing.

On Monday morning of this week, I heard of the death of another close friend, ClubUniqua. Uniqua and I worked together for a number of years at the BigR, even working side by side on the Wal-Mart account. We traveled together for work quite a bit, even spending a very damp weekend at TwinsMommy's house when she lived in Dallas.

Uniqua has a similar situation, family wise, as I do. She has a brother who used to be a bit of a hood rat, who has now relatively cleaned up his act, and was doing what a brother and son should, when it comes to family. She has a sister who used to have her act together, then got hooked up with a junkie crackhead, having two kids by him, and whenever Pookie isn't in the picture, does what a sister and daughter should, when it comes to family.

But Uniqua was always the one that was relied upon. Her Dad died, somewhat unexpectedly about five years ago, and once that happened, Uniqua took on even more of the burden of her Mother. Needless to say, we were a support group of sorts for each other, as we both knew we wouldn't judge each other, and could always make the other feel better with a story or situation that was worse that what they were enduring.

So to Maxine, I rejoice that you are finally with your beloved hubby and crazy MissBeck, and out of the pains of old age. So Uniqua, Kimbo and Junior, I bring you my support and love, and the comfort of knowing that she is in a peaceful place. May the upcoming weeks bring you closer together.

Friday Five - Five things I'm reading now.

2008-07-18T09:46:00.006-05:00

Ok. I'm a freak of nature (to most of the world, that is). I like to read.

A LOT.

At any given time I am reading at least three or four books, and always have a magazine or two on hand, ranging from People (yes I hang my head in paparazzi heaven) to Vanity Fair to Rolling Stone or Spin.

Here's what I'm currently perusing:

David Sedaris' new book, "When You Are Engulfed In Flames". Mad just picked it up for me this week and I've done a quick scan, but I'm planning on a morning read this weekend (hopefully)!

Alton Brown's "Feasting on Asphalt". It's a cookbook that also tells the story of their second road/food journey. This time they went up the Great River Road from Louisiana to Michigan. But they stopped in Alton, and hit two of my three favorite Donut Shops in St. Louis.

Where was I when they were tooling around town?

Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential. Mad's had this book for months and months, and keeps reminding me I should read it. However, he never gave it to me. I finally got my hands on it this week, and started reading it while waiting at the Doc's office yesterday. I can already tell it's a winner.

Lisa Jewell's "Roommates Wanted". It's a piece of light fiction fluff, set in England. But so far, it's been an interesting read, and the characters are all so colorful, I'm looking forward to see how their stories all converge.

Rob Sheffield's "Love is a Mix Tape". Rob is a regular contributor to Rolling Stone, and you'll see him on most of the random Vh1 "recap/remember when" type shows. I actually finished this book this week, and have to rave about it. It's a quick read, a story of finding and losing love, and how music has remained a constant throughout his life. I easily identified with many parts of the book, and the emotions wobbled between laughter and tears. A must read for anyone between 35 - 45 who remembers the significance of a mix tape.

On a side note, I strongly suggest to any of my male readers, or any females with that J9 sense of humor take the time to pick up Tucker Max "I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell". It's a collection of short stories, some taken from his blog, but mostly just recounts of the weirdly normal things that happen to him. Kind of like what I do here.

But as Carwrecker says, "you can judge a person's sense of humor by having them read one or two stories. If you don't hear them audibly laughing, you may be in trouble."

And I must say, I have to agree with him.

A solemn note for the day.

2008-07-17T16:35:00.005-05:00

A close friend of mine's mother passed away last week. It was somewhat unexpected, although she had been diagnosed with cancer less than two months ago, but it was so riddled through her, there wasn't much that could be done.

FeFeMonkey and I have had some distance between us, even to the point that she didn't call me when her Ma was diagnosed. I had to read it on her blog. But I never stopped caring for her, and wanting everything to work out in her world.

I was catching up on her blog on Monday and read about her Ma's passing. I gave a quick comment, doing my best to comfort her, brighten her day somewhat, and letting her know that no matter what time or space was between us, I'd always be there for her. Sometimes, just knowing that someone that you feel you may have lost does care is all you need. She commented back to me, letting me know she loved me back.

Today she updated her blog with a poem one of her out of state relatives that couldn't make the services sent. It's beautiful, and pretty much says it all.

When tomorrow starts without me,
and I'm not there to see;

If the sun should rise and find your eyes
all filled with tears for me;

I wish so much you wouldn't cry
the way you did today,

While thinking of the many things
we didn't get to say.

I know how much you love me,
as much as I love you,

And each time you think of me,
I know you'll miss me, too.

But when tomorrow starts without me,
please try and understand,

That an angel came and called my name
and took me by the hand,

And said my place was ready
in heaven far above,

And that I'd have to leave behind
all those I dearly love.

But as I turned to walk away,
a tear fell from my eye,

For all my life I'd always thought
I didn't want to die.

I had so much to live for
and so much yet to do,

It seemed almost impossible
that I am leaving you.

I thought of all the yesterdays,
the good ones and the bad,

I thought of all the love we shared
and all the fun we had.

If I could relive yesterday,
I thought, just for a while,

I'd say good-bye and kiss you
and maybe see your smile.

But then I fully realized
that this could never be.

For emptiness and memories
would take the place of me.

And when I thought of worldly things
that I'd miss come tomorrow,

I thought of you, and when I did,
my heart was filled with sorrow.

But when I walked through heaven's gates,
I felt so much at home.

When God look down and smiled at me,
from His great golden throne.

He said, "This is eternity
and all I've promised you,

Today your life on earth is past,
but here it starts anew.

I promise no tomorrow,
but today will always last,

And since each day's the same day,
there's no longing for the past.

But you have been so faithful,
so trusting and so true,

Though there were times you did some things
you knew you shouldn't do.

But you have been forgiven,
and now at last you're free.

So won't you take my hand
and share my life with me?"

So when tomorrow starts without me,
don't think we're far apart,

For every time you think of me,
I'm right here in your heart.

You are in my prayers sweetie FeFe.

I swear I'm over 40.

2008-07-15T10:05:00.004-05:00

But I've been told I rarely act it.

Case in point? I've joined a Kickball League. Granted, I'm coming in partially through the season, but Fiddy really needed some people on the team he was recruited onto, so I joined the team, playing our first games this past Sunday.

Now I was a soccer player for 18 some odd years, including a number of hardcore years where I played damn near every day of the week. But, I haven't played in a league since my days at the Big R, some time in the late 90's or early 00's. I was playing indoor and outdoor for a few seasons, but the teams drifted apart.

So I drug out my indoor shoes, eventually changed into my cleats, and drug my old ass onto the field. The game was pretty good, I managed to get on base once, but there was an injury on the other team which ended the game early (we did win, as we were ahead), but the full team never showed up for the second game of our double header (which caused another win due to a forfeit). We went ahead and spent the time practicing, playing a game for fun, and CoconutLongBoy and I kicked the red rubber ball around with another player, pulling some soccer skills out of the old closet. Somehow, during the course of the afternoon, not only have I been recruited onto the team, they've asked CLB to play, and we've signed up for Fall leagues also.

So now I have another night to injure myself if I'm not careful!

Tonight is Softball, and I am ready to play. It's a rivalry tonight of sorts, as we are playing the team we beat to win the Tuesday League Tournament last year, which prevented them from heading to the TGELeague Finals (which we eventually lost). Plus, in the last month or so, I've realized that I knew/know a few of the players, as they are friends with MissStep, and I'd met them years ago.

Let's just say the trash talking started on 4th of July, when player from my team were taunting my friends from the other team, and vice versa. We've all been patiently awaiting tonight, and I'm dragging out the troops to cheer on whichever team wins.

Hopefully we have enough players : )

Further proof my world is TOO small.

2008-07-12T11:21:00.005-05:00

I moved into TGE in 2001, after seven years of living just a few miles outside of the neighborhood.

When moving my phone service, I had to get a new number, as my zip code changed. Almost immediately, I started getting phone calls for a guy I'll call SourDude. (Not that I'm describing him, it's just a play on his name.) I'd get phone calls from the SLUH Alumni Association, curious if I wanted to order their Directory or donate money. I'd call to have pizza delivered, and would get asked "SourDude, are you located at" followed by an address just a few blocks away. I'd have to update the address and name at any restaurant that delivered.

As time went on, I'd get a random oddity, which reminded me of SourDude. For instance, after getting MommaLoretta a dog, I went to register it with Webster Groves Animal Hospital, and they asked if I was SourDude's wife, and if we'd gotten another dog. See, they use your phone number for your account number, so every time I went in there, I'd have to explain that wasn't me. After a year or so, they finally added a 1 on the end of my phone number, to separate the accounts.

Fast forward to yesterday morning.

CoconutLongBoy was here, and showing me something on his email. As he collapses one screen, I see the original email post, which has the name SourDude on it.

Blink. Blink.

EJ9: Um, did SourDude ever live in TGE?
CLB: Yep. A bunch of places around here.
EJ9: Um, did he go to SLUH?
CLB: Sure did. High school though, not college.
EJ9: Nofuckingway!
EJ9: He totally used to have my home phone number.
CLB: Hold on.

(CLB picks up his cell, and gets SourDude on the phone.)

SD: Hello?
CLB: Dude, does the phone number XXX-XXXX mean anything to you?
SD: Yeah. That used to be my number. Why?
CLB: No reason. Talk to you later.

Yes people, the guy who used to have my phone number, and who has occassionally been a small thorn in my side is one of CoconutLongBoy's close friends.

But it doesn't end there.

Yesterday afternoon I had to go to one of my attorney's offices. (May I say it just pains me that I have multiple attorneys in more than one state. . . .). CoconutLongBoy didn't necessarily want to sit in the attorney's office while I signed my new Will and Estate Planning Documents, so he just dropped me off and was going to come back when I called. However, upon entering the office, the secretary realized that they didn't have a second witness, which was required.

So I called CoconutLongBoy and had him come back.

We are sitting with the attorney (who I've known since 1985, and worked for from '85 to about '88), and joking around for a few minutes while signing docs, then make our way out of the office. CLB turns to me and says, "that guy looks familiar".

I tell him SPOG's name, to which he realizes he recognizes the name. Then I tell him he went to SLUH/SLU/SLU LAW. Then I tell him that he has a younger brother, and that CLB may know MOG. The lightbulb fully switched on, and began burning at 100 watts.

Yep, not only did CLB and MOG go to school together, they hung out. He's met their family, been to their house, etc. etc. etc. This was all during the same time I was working with SPOG, and heard stories of what MOG had been up to.

Yep. My world is very, very small.

And CoconutLongBoy is making it even smaller : )

4th of July - The Videos

2008-07-10T09:43:00.009-05:00

This was the scene I woke up to Saturday morning. As I stumbled out of my bedroom, still in my clothes, I sat down on the couch to survey the situation.

The accidentally dumped out, melted and yet, still oddly gelatinous blue shot could be the visual representation of what my brain felt like.

Surprisingly enough, a good time was had by all. Not surprisingly enough, the party would have been perfect, had it only ended one hour earlier.

Here's a few videos of the fireworks. The "color" commentary (as always) is just as good as the fireworks! Thanks to MissStep, Errrrrricah, and everyone else who helped with the videos. I was too busy falling to handle the duties : )

And one of me being a dumbass.

The Perils of Too Much Partying

2008-07-08T12:02:00.005-05:00

The inevitable has happened.

After many, many close calls, I have finally "lost" my GrandmaR's ring.

I don't think I've told everyone the back story with the ring, so I'll fill you in.

My GrandmaR passed away in 1980. I was just getting ready to go into 8th grade, and although GrandmaR and I weren't THAT close, we shared a birthday month, something none of her daughters and her shared. Plus, MommaLoretta was one of her main caretakers as she reached her golden years, and thus, I was always around her.

When she passed away, I asked if I could have a ring of hers that had a peridot stone in it. Needless to say, this was NOT an expensive ring. It was Sarah Coventry costume jewelry, but it was a ring she loved, and wore constantly. I'm not sure who prompted the whole rejection, but essentially I was told that I couldn't have the ring, as it should go to one of her daughters, and that I didn't deserve it, etc. etc. etc.

At the time I just assumed that the ring went to some family member, and although I was upset, wanting something to remember her by, I understood most of the logic behind denying me the one small reminder of her.

Fast forward to sometime in the last few years. I'm in MommaLoretta's basement, looking for something, and I stumble across a few boxes marked "Birdie", which was my GrandmaR's nickname. I open the boxes to find a variety of stuff she had with her at the nursing home when she passed away. There were pictures of her grandkids and greatgrandkids, a bunch of religious cards, birthday cards, and other letters, and other memories one would expect an elderly lady to have. Then I open the last box and find it's full of her cheap costume jewelry. As I pulled out necklaces, bracelets and pins, I spot a glint of green in the corner.

Could it be? No way! You have GOT to be kidding me!

There, buried in the corner of this shoebox was the ring I had asked for, over two decades ago.

The ring that I was told I couldn't have, and didn't deserve.

It had been treated so insiginficantly, just thrown into a box with her other crap no one else wanted, and put in the basement with the loads of other crap MommaLoretta has accumulated over the years.

So I took it, and put it on.

I wore the ring upstairs, but didn't make a big deal to MommaLoretta.

As the years passed, MommaLoretta noticed the ring, even commenting on how pretty it was, but it never crossed her mind that this was the ring that she had denied me all those years ago. She didn't remember that this ring was HER mother's, in fact, it had no significance to her at all. When one day, while angry, I mentioned that it was GrandmaR's ring, and that I DID get it, after all these years, she essentially told me that I was making up the story.

Needless to say, the ring, despite it's complete lack of financial value, it had complete emotional value to me. It was a tie to my Mother's lineage, and whether I like it or not, I am part of that lineage (albeit only legally).

Fast forward to 4th of July.

Of course I had the ring on. But, as usual, while in that state of intoxication, I lost it somewhere.

I didn't notice it until the next morning, and I originally wasn't concerned. I'd misplaced it many, many times before, always to find it in one of the places I usually put it, or find it around the area, as it had been knocked off the dresser, desk, speaker, etc. The few times I'd left it somewhere else, it was always recovered within 24 hours, as I could pinpoint where it had been left.

But I was too tired to look for it. I did a few things around the house on Saturday, including running the garbage disposal, but not much more.

Sunday morning, I'm rushing around the house, trying to get stuff cleaned up and get on the road to Turkey Hill. I dump the remaining Sangria (and the fruit with it) into the sink and turn on the disposal, only to hear the quiet hum of a non-grinding garbage disposal.

My stomach sinks. I just dumped a few pounds of fruit in the sink and now my garbage disposal won't work? WTF!

CLB comes to the rescue. He starts digging out fruit and gunk from the night before, then finds something odd.

It's a silver string of sorts, all bent up. Then he finds a silver setting that has been smashed and crunched into oblivion. He pipes up, "I think I've found the problem."

As I turn and take one look at those two pieces of twisted metal, my stomach sinks, my heart starts pounding, and I do everything possibly to fight off tears.

Sitting there, on the counter, is what remains of GrandmaR's ring.

I'm speechless, but have THAT look on my face. CLB looks at me quizzically, and I find myself explaining just enough to have him realize this is a big deal to me. Somehow he knew that there wasn't much he could say to make me feel better. So he just hugged me, let me deal with what I needed to deal with, and helped me feel safe.

Which, right then, is exactly what I needed.

But I'm on the search. I know I can dig up a photo or two of the ring, and I'm going to do what I promised myself a few years ago. I'm going to take the photo into a jeweler, and have them replicate the ring, but with a real stone, and with better silver (or even white gold). It will be my way to honor her memory, but it will be something that is mine, and no relative can ever make me give it back.

Although I doubt that would happen. But I've learned to Never say Never.

Happy Monday!!

2008-07-07T17:49:00.004-05:00

I am in Turkey Hill for the first part of this week, which has delayed my posting abilities.

Friday's 4th of July party was a resounding success, although not all of the Jello shots were consumed. I had my first drink at 4:00 p.m., and we're pretty sure I had my last one around 5:00 a.m. The last guests left some time around 6:30 or 7:00, although I'm not positive of the time, as they basically put me to bed and decided to clean up the back yard.

Yes, Fiddy and PharmacyGirl are that sweet of friends. Between convincing me that "everything was going to be okay", and practically scrubbing my house from top to bottom, they've more than proven why I have become so close to both of them, both individually, and as a couple.

Everyone had a great time, the fireworks were out of this world, and there was copious amounts of Jaegermeister consumed.

So much, in fact, that at 4:00 p.m. on Saturday afternoon, I blew a .05 on the breathalyzer.

Yes, you read that correctly. Almost twelve hours after consuming my last cocktail, after 5 or 6 hours of sleep, after lunch and a two hour nap, I STILL was just under the legal drinking limit.

I'm both glad that I didn't attempt to blow on the breathalyzer Friday night, and scared of what the reading would have been.

I've got plenty of pictures to post, and videos of some of the fireworks. But that will have to wait, as I don't have the proper USB cables to upload everything from my camera.

Hey, we are lucky I managed to get to Turkey Hill on Sunday, much less remember everything I wanted to bring with me!

Douchebaggery at it's finest!

2008-07-03T14:45:00.005-05:00

Wow.

THIS may be the biggest douchebag.

Ever!

For MissStep

2008-07-03T08:50:00.006-05:00

MissStep has had a long time dream of getting a coffee table book published.

The theme of the coffee table book? Random photos of pieces of hair, weave pieces and hair extensions that she has seen on the streets of downtown StL.

I personally think it's a great idea, and any time I've seen pieces of weave, I think of it, and try to mentally lay out the best way to display the photo for her book.

Last Saturday, CoconutLongBoy and I were walking up to JayAsia to buy some Nori for sushi, and I spotted this battered up extension.

Needless to say, I HAD to take a photo, just for her : )

Can you say Fireworks?

2008-07-03T08:01:00.004-05:00

It's that time of year again, the annual 4th of July party.

I've talked about previous 4th of July parties here, here, here, and here.

As you can see, we went a little crazier this year with our fireworks display. We have a few more big displays compared to last year, and this isn't everything. SpecialEd still has stuff to bring, MikkiandChris will bring stuff (like last year) and Mad still plans on picking up a few things.

MissStep is coming over today and we are going to chop fruit for Sangria, make Jello Shots, cut up meat for kebabs and other assorted duties around the house.

And the countdown begins. . . .

And the ice making begins. . .

2008-07-01T14:15:00.005-05:00

The 4th Annual Fireworks Fiesta is Friday.

I have the list of everything that needs to be done, and it isn't actually all that bad. Plus, MissStep is also taking off work on Thursday, so she's going to help me with a bunch of the prep work, including all the jello shots and fruit chopping for sangria

But true to form, I've already started making ice.

TWELVE trays at a time.

If I change them at least four times a day, there just may be enough ice for cocktails. . .

Is the hot dog jewish?

2008-06-30T11:37:00.006-05:00

MissStep sent this to me last week. She thought it was funny that they would even advertisde this, and commented "mmmm. hot dog."

The sad thing is that I've actually eaten one of these, and they are not that good.

Hot dog in bagel? Good. Hot dog in pastry? Good. Hot dog in pretzel? Not so good.

Happy Monday everyone!

Softball Status

2008-06-26T15:20:00.004-05:00

We finally got to play another softball game on Tuesday. I missed last week while in LA, and apparently the team lost. However, there were some odd calls by an umpire who's son is the coach of the opposing team.

Can you say biased calls?

Anyway, game time Tuesday was 6:15. The rain blew in around 2:00, and downpoured for 20 to 30 minutes. They were predicting more for rush hour (which would screw the chances of playing), so CoconutLongBoy and I were in a holding pattern of whether there was softball or not. I wasn't sure if I wanted him there, as I was sure I would crash and burn, basically embarassing myself. But he insisted he wanted to come watch, as he played soccer and baseball both in school and after graduation for a number of years.

Oddly enough, the storm that was predicted split into a V shape and hit North and South of StL, and brought sunshine in the late afternoon. We got to the field around 6:00, and found we barely had enough to play. In addition, they had to move the field around and play solely on the grass, as the infield was all tore up from the storm.

Somehow, I got pegged to be the lead off hitter for the girls.

Lucky for me, we were faced with a pitcher that liked to just lob them across the plate. My first swing was hard, but popped up behind us for a foul ball. I waited through the next pitch, and then got a beauty.

I cracked this ball WAY down the third base line, and over the head of a kid I had played shuffleboard against two weeks ago. Can you say triple for J9! If I didn't run like a tank, it may have been a home run, but I'll settle for the triple and an RBI.

My second at bat got me a double, and scored another 2 RBIs. By my third time at bat, they were yelling "you gotta play her deep, scoot back!". I took this as my opportunity to shake things up a bit, and knock it over the 2nd baseman's head, giving me a single. My last at bat was a solid line drive, but straight to the third baseman (who was the other half of the shuffleboard duo). It was caught, but a solid hit nonetheless. I crossed the plate myself twice, involving me in five of our nine runs.

Because we had limited girls again, I was sent into center field. AngelBono took right field, CityKitty was catching, with her friend on third, and LisaLisa was put at second (my latest spot). In retrospect, this was an excellent choice on CoachJoey's part, as there were just two plays at second, both of which were easy throws from shortstop. However, I caught two pop flies, fielded two hoppers, hitting the cut off man and holding them to one base, and generally trash talked everyone up to bat or on base and gave props to my teammates on good plays.

Most importantly thought, I apparently showed off my "softball fundamentals", by backing up the other outfielders, using both hands to catch the ball, choking up on the bat, occasionally doing the front foot lift before hitting the ball, etc. etc. I never gave much thought to any of those things, as they just come naturally. But CLB was quite impressed, and told me that he was all "puffed up with pride being there with me", and "you looked so cute out there". (I told you he's a keeper!)

The final score? Nine to six. But only because there were a few errors at third that caused three unnecessary runs to score. But it was our third baseman's second game, and she had caught the last time, so it was okay. She'll get better with every game, and as long as the rest of us play as well as we did this week, we could be able to skate right into the playoffs again this year.

We're getting new shirts. You know I scored #9.

Hopefully I talked them into putting EvilJ across the back right above the name!

I got a question and need some help with answers!!

2008-06-26T07:04:00.005-05:00

I recently found out an ex co-worker of mine's daughter was rediagnosed with brain cancer. She has been given only a few years to live, and will leave behind a husband of four or five years and a daughter who is just 6 months old.

I want to send a note of support and prayers to Alan. I know how comforting it was for me while my Dad was dying to hear anything positive.

But here's my dilema. Alan's family is VERY Jewish. So I don't know what is proper to say, as I'm not familiar with the religious beliefs. My GrandmaN, (one of my favorite people ever), when hearing of the death of a young parent, always said that God took them early because they were such a good Mom/Dad, and God needed help with all the kids in heaven, and knew they would love them the best.

Do Jews believe in heaven, and God, or will this somewhat offend them because they don't have the same religious hierarchy? I've been raised Catholic, and have had very limited exposure to other religions. But if someone were trying to comfort me with some Allah based theory, I wouldn't know how to take it.

Any thoughts? Please comment. You don't need to register, you can post anonymously, just let me know who you are if you do. MissStep has figured it out : )

Thank you so much. Any advice is appreciated. Alan has always been good and supportive to me, and I want to return the favor.

It was DEFINITELY time for a bath. . . .

2008-06-24T08:33:00.005-05:00

I first introduced Wedgehead when he came into my life last Christmas.

Then, I told everyone of his amazing "conquests", getting more strange than everyone in Connecticut House.

Before I left for LA, MissStep commented that Wedgehead was in dire need of a bath. He was looking kind of ragged, and after all the snuggling, drooling, and ass smashing he received (Wedgehead still hasn't recovered from that one, Fiddy), it was apparent that if he didn't get a bath soon, he might develop some form of STD.

But I was concerned that he would somehow shrink, get less soft and fuzzy, or even worse, disintegrate in the washing machine. So he got washed on gentle with some similar colored Thomas O'Brien towels from Target that I have to treat very carefully.

As you can see, he came through his bath in perfect shape, and ever since, he's been back in full stud mode, snuggling with CoconutLongBoy on Sunday morning.

He's so happy to be clean, you can almost see the sparkle in his eye!