"IRISH BLOOD, ENGLISH HEART"

Oy Vey: Who wants to buy a pile of awful CDs? I mean really awful. It's shameful. I'm an mp3 gal, so I haven't bought CDs in years, and well, it shows. Anyway, I want the crap out of the house. I dunno, maybe 75-100 of them. Shitty mixes I was given like a decade ago? Check. Lame actual CDs I don't even know why I own? Check. Really lame crap I bought to do sound for a friend's theatre company? Check. Junk old roommates saddled me with a decade ago? Check. A couple of oldies but goodies, but mostly shit.

Yay: In stark, stark contrast, yet another fabulous person has been interviewed over on the Pilcrow blog, Angela Gant.

"THE QUEEN IS (NOT) DEAD"

Hi kids. The weather is weird, I'm working hard and being busy, Pilcrow is coming along nicely, the editing phase is done with Katie Schwartz's's's book and we're just double-checking and such right now, mostly, my parents are moving but staying on the coast, I feel a little tired, I have more to do today before the day is over, my friends in New Orleans are hoeing down today, I finished a few writing projects this morning, I think I will have an early dinner, I don't even want to discuss my shower, my cat is sweet and napping, Clitter is funny (particularly "sparklebabies" at the end), my apartment is warm, on The Yay/Oy Vey Scale, things are firmly yay. No complaints.

"ICE WATER FOR BLOOD", PART TWO

So, let's see, where were we? The plumber, ah yes. So, the plumber and co. come, and they're delightful Romanian fellows, and we have the best time chatting about Romania and Romanian things. They were off all weekend, but are due to arrive any minute-- okay, they were due to arrive an hour and a half ago, and they'll begin shredding my bathroom, as well as the bathroom of my downstairs neighbor and perhaps this pipe situation will be settled in the immediate. And by "in the immediate" I mean, "until I move someplace else", of course.

To make things even more interesting, due to the flooding the other night, the city has prohibited parking on my block today for street cleaning.

Ah, wait, my landlady just called and the Romanians will not be here today. Le sigh.

So, show of hands, who all will be coming out to The Fixx on Thursday evening for Scott Korb and Peter Bebergal, co-authors of The Faith Between Us? They've come all the way from Brooklyn and Cambridge, respectively, and I'd love to give them a nice, big crowd.

"REEL AROUND THE FOUNTAIN"

My shower is still frozen. The faucet is frozen solid and the drain now has a dome of ice over it, making draining impossible as well. The bathroom sink is reduced to only a tiny trickle of ice water. So, my bathroom is useless except for the toilet, is what I'm telling you.

And so, a frozen shower and bathroom sink made for creative use of the kitchen step-stool, Tupperware and kitchen sink today. Standing naked on your kitchen counter and using Tupperware to dump water over yourself is still a whole helluva lot better than leaving the house to beg a shower in sub-zero weather. The neighbors who my kitchen window faces might say otherwise. Whatver.

Sigh.

The good news is that I have a date with baby Neptune tomorrow, and I hit his folks up for arriving early in exchange for shower use. Oy vey. The things a lady has gotta do to get a shower these days.

"I WAS DETAINED"

Let's play Yay/Oy Vey. I play this every day, and it's great. Okay, this is how you play: Make two lists about your day, on your blog, on paper, or just in your mind, how I usually do. One is the "yay" list. The other is the "oy vey" list. Whichever list is longer tells you the kind of day you had: A Yay Day or an Oy Vey Day. Ready? Great. Let's play.

Yay: I finally got some actual sleep last night and slept like the dead. Just out. I woke up feeling like a million dollars.

Oy Vey: I left my apartment this morning and was greeted by two evangelist types in front of my building door. Now, my building has a little sidewalk area between the front door and the actual sidewalk, so I needed these two dude to scoot in order to get past them. But, that wasn't a goal for them. They asked me (well, one of them did all the talking, the other guy just sort of sat there with his mouth hanging open like a big oaf) if my plans for the weekend included Jesus Christ. Pardon? No, but that sounds romantic, though, I said in a har, har, very funny, now let me past kind of way. But again, not on the agenda. So, he keep at it, I keep my lid on but firmly let him know he wasn't helping matters by detaining me and would he please let me pass? He stuck his arms out, as if on the cross himself, almost, to stop me from passing by. So, that's it. I love to discuss religion, especially with people of different religions, but I don't like being told what to do, I don't like being told what I feel or believe is wrong and bad ("It's not your fault you're a Jew, but the good news is that there's still time to turn your life around and come to Christ. It's not too late." he tells me, as if Jewish is an affliction.), and I sure don't like being physically prevented from doing something as simple as leaving my own home. So, what choice did I have but to grab my BlackBerry and announce I was about to call the cops. That gained me my exit.

Yay: I glanced back as I was clearing the building and saw them stuffing a bunch of crap, way beyond just a pamphlet and a free bible mind you, like wads and wads of printed paper into the mailbox of the first floor peeps (the apartment, to be exact, that always smells like someone took a giant shit, so I found this part rather funny).

Oy Vey: Then, I realize these dudes have cohorts at my neighbors buildings, too, both sides. Weird. I don't even know what group they were with, not Mormon, though they did have the trademark short-sleeve-and-tie-combo (with cute "inspirational slogan" long sleeve thermals underneath and scarves with crosses on them), not any group I'd ever heard of, to tell you the truth. I don't know which group they were with other than the first church of "Bouta Getcherself Beatup". Man, when are these dudes going to catch on that I'll sit and talk religion and spirituality with them all freakin' day if they approached wanting to have a conversation? Toolsheds. So, anyway, FYI there Chicagoans. About that.

Yay: I made a nice pot of spicy southwestern corn chowder because it is so cold here in Chicago tonight.

Oy vey: I'm not going to name names, but let me tell you something. I don't have much of a temper, but I do not get played like a bitch. Manipulating people for one's own professional gain makes one a terrible person, makes one's karma bad and when the truth comes out, which it always does, nobody looks like an idiot but the offender and it makes said person horribly untrustworthy. Also, throwing someone, an innocent someone, under the bus because one is too big of a wimp to stand by something one has said or written, well, that just makes one a pussy, doesn't it? Yeah, I think so, too. Don't bullshit me or the people I care about, are we clear? Great!

Yay: Pilcrow Lit Fest is coming together really nicely, you guys. Just today I heard about some wonderful folks who want to make the trip out and that makes me very, very glad.

Oy Vey: My shower is now not draining.

Yay: I get to start hanging out with Baby Neptune again every week.

Yay: The editing mojo is going well for Katie Schwartz's book-to-be and I'm super excited about it.

Yay: The other night, I saw a bullet and a tiny origami crane together in a tiny cup and I hope I see that on a bookcover one day. I also hope I figure out how to fold a origami crane that tiny.

See, three "Yay" in a row. So, it's a Yay Day.