Armeggedon Fanatasy

I wish the Government would just come out and say it. The world is going to end. That's why we're ruining the economy, destroying our food and letting bed bugs rule the city. I know what they're afraid of: Anarchy. But even if society went all out in a Wild West kind of looting spree, it would still be better than going to a boring job every day - saving money that's deflating by the minute or paying a heavy premium on insurance that ain't worth shit.

Give us the count down guys and we'll handle the rest, that's what I got to say. Instead of stressing out over health, weight and parental discretion, I'd let the kids eat chips, cookies and pizza all day and watch R rated movies. I'd drink myself into oblivion with an endless supply of hot wings and fries all charged to my credit card whilst waiting for the Tsunami that drowned New York.

But that's just my little fantasy. It's as stupid as those fantasies people harbor about what they'd buy if they'd won the Lottery.

In the end, I have to face reality and learn how to deal with this anvil made of taxes, bills and loose Bakugan balls that are weighing down my otherwise upbeat demeanor.

Desperate for good news, I decided to take the advice of a good friend. She suggested washing my hands with salt to get rid of bad karma. It's some sort of Feng Shui, Asian ritual that sounded harmless enough, but of course when I tried it, the result was my eczema flared up.

I'm more than a loser, I'm a nebbish.

THE HAMBURGER MEDIUM

Contest number twelve at First Line Fiction took a line from one of my favorite authors, Hunter S. Thompson. At first, the challenge was too daunting - Thompson has such a specific voice that to write on top of that you would be railroaded into just re-writing "Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas."

But it turned out to be a lot of fun. Eventually, I incorporated a short story I was stuck on the longest time. So in essence, I killed two birds with one stone.

The basis of the original story revolved around a tragic accident that happened at the Grand Canyon some twenty years ago. A group of young college students who were sightseeing, stopped for a picture at point where there were no rails. One of the students just "slipped" out of the group and before anyone realized what happened she had fallen to her death.

Hope you enjoy my story, The Hamburger Medium.

Snapple For A Laptop?

The squeaky wheel does get the oil. I've learned that if you complain enough in a blog - people respond. It's the greatest thing. I wrote a post - okay, two posts - about all my shit breaking down, including my bread and butter laptop and poof! My sister-in-law gives me one of her laptops. She has idle laptops like I have empty peanut butter jars. I'm going to have to send her a Snapple or something.

It couldn't have come a day sooner. I was neglecting my writing schedule, ignoring my e-mails and skipping my workouts. Between you and me, the laptop fiasco was turning me into a manic depressive slacker. Okay...I admit I was already a slacker but lying on my bed feeling sorry for myself is not my usual pass time.

So, after a brief course on finding a stupid application called "Rosetta" my laptop is set up...finally. It's bigger, better, yes - even sexier than the last and this is my first blog post on it. Hip-hip-hooray!

Now I have no excuse for sleeping in.

P.S.: Thanks to my sister-in-law for kind of donating it, my husband for delivering it and my former brother-in-law for taking my call to answer dumb computer questions. Thanks!

Show Me The "Grease"

I love to eavesdrop on people's conversations. This is New York, however and on the rare occasion that a conversation is conducted in English, I can't help but listen. Yesterday, two stock men were busy at their jobs stocking yogurt and ice at Stop n' Shop.

As Yogurt man passed Ice Man, the usual how ya doin' ensued. Then Yogurt man asked Ice man what time he was working til.

"Closing." Said Ice man.

"That's a long time," Yogurt man observed.

"Gotta bring home the grease! Know what I mean?"

Grease. I guess that's a new term? Used to be bacon but I guess that's reserved for referring to cops now. But I get it: bacon when you cook it, makes grease. Then again I could be dead wrong.

So as they parted ways, Yogurt man making his way to the yogurt section asked Ice man, "Hey, what are you doin' for Labor day?"

"Workin'." Ice man says, not missing a beat loading the bags of ice into the ice locker.

"Working? That sucks!"

Ice man stops loading his ice, puts his hands on his hips and says, "Well it is Labor day!"

It doesn't get any more real than that. Thanks for the words of wisdom, Ice man. Now I feel secure that coolers stocking beer at picnics this Labor day will have no shortage of ice as long as you are working at Stop n' Shop.

Happy Labor Day.

Life Error

It started with the car battery. A couple of weeks ago, it died. Just like that. It's not surprising considering we had to jump it on two different occasions for leaving the panel lights on. It was a matter of time but truly, the timing sucked. Then again, the timing always sucks when you're on a low budget.

Of course in the program of life, when it rains it pours - that was just the spark that fueled the fire. Following that, I dropped my detested iPhone and cracked the screen. It still worked, if you consider a phone that no one can hear you as working, but the cracked screen rubbing against my ear was physically annoying as well.

Then the whole water boarding incident happened with my laptop. Rather than pay the "anywhere from four hundred to seven hundred dollars" it would cost to fix it, we swapped the hard drive to another household laptop. Now it doesn't shut down when it's unplugged but for some reason, the battery only lasts about an hour before it needs to be recharged. Can you say, high maintenance?

And since misfortune comes in threes, my digital camera started giving me attitude lately. I went to turn it on the other day and the screen flashed a "Lens Error" message. I've noticed in the world of technology, all a device has to say when it doesn't feel like working is "Error." It's a passive-aggressive message when you think about it because it's not blaming you directly but it's not giving you any options of what to do about it either.

Instead, you're going through the motions of repeating the same actions like an insane geek performing button ballet - hold CTRL-Shift-C while booting your computer with the pointer on the same hand as the pinky that's up your butt.

Seriously, I'm just about ready to go Pilgrim and get rid of all these electronic hoo-ha's. But you know I won't.

If anything, I've learned something from all this: electronics, single-handedly shaped society to be the wanton consumer. There was a time when the people who fixed your mechanical piece-of-shit charged less than the people who put it together but that's simply not the case anymore. Why would I pay seven hundred dollars to "possibly" fix an old computer when a newer, sleeker, faster one would cost me nine?

It's all about upgrade. Either way, you're getting it.

All things considered, I'm lucky that this funk my life is contained to trivial things like a dying battery. Laptops, iPhones, cameras...they can all be replaced. And though this old brain is getting too cluttered to learn yet a new menu and change settings and so forth, things could be worse - I'll count my lucky stars until I get the app to do it for me.

Sabotaged By A Preschooler

What does my laptop and Guantanamo Bay have in common? They've both been shut down by way of Water Boarding. Well...sort of.

My three-year-old in his frequent act of demonic destruction decided to check if there was water in his water bottle by pouring the remains on my computer. Luckily, my laptop was closed and it was sitting on the day bed, which absorbed most of the liquid. But now it won't turn on without being plugged into the wall and that to me, sort of defeats the purpose of a laptop, don't it?

I thought it was funny how the little booger was not the least bit remorseful when Daddy and I scolded him. I always knew the little guy held the kind of grudge one holds towards a new baby brother for my computer. I tried not to be on it when he's around but every once in a while, when e-mails get backed up or deadlines are ensuing - I'd play a DVD of Dora or Team Umi Zumi to keep him occupied while I stuck my nose in the computer screen.

Sometimes he'd wail, "Noooo - don't be on the compoooter!" Other times, he'd just walk up and slam it shut on my face. About the only time he liked it is when it was playing baby movies of himself or letting him video chat with Grammy. But for the most part, it was his nemesis.

So I had to get hard core with him on this deed. Depending on how much this is going to cost, he is either going to lose his birthday party this year or it will come out of his Christmas list. By the way, he's been adding a new item every day since Easter - he was not happy about shortening the list. He even agreed to hard labor just to keep his list intact. But really, how hard a labor can a three-year-old do? He'd just make another mess for me to clean and this is supposed to be his punishment.

In a nutshell, this means I am disabled until my laptop comes home...if it comes home. In the meantime, maybe I'll finally read all the books and magazines that have piled up on my nightstand, coffee stand and workstation.

I can only imagine what jealous revenge my three-year-old would take towards my magazines. Use them for toilet paper?

Criminal Schmorgesborg

The other day I came across this fantastic blog post on Mothering Mayhem. It's about a registered sex offender that moved into her neighborhood, which is no small matter - I feel the anxiety. If you have the chance, please read her story...it could happen in your neck of the woods.

Just out of curiosity, I checked out the Family Watchdog Website to see what vermin was living amongst us. Am I brain dead? Maybe. I just figured they would list the most wanted. But this is New York City, after all - not exactly D.C. but crime ridden just the same.

I looked up  registered sex offenders in the 11104 area - we have no less than 6,348.

Can Police Commissioner Ray Kelly go on Sesame Street and sing "Oh, a rapist is a person in your neighborhood?"