Boop’s Anatomy (June 19, 2009)

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I will try to keep this short, as I am decidedly still unwell. I have come down with a combination bacterial/viral gastrointestinal infection. This on top of dealing with the politics of caring for my in-laws while my husband is absentee, trying to keep my career afloat, etc. My latest StreetWise has been out for two days already, and I haven’t even seen it. I was forced to turn down a fairly lucrative academic writing project this week due to my sudden illness, and I am left hoping that professional relationship isn’t permanently soured, as I couldn’t deliver on their first request. I suppose if it is, it will be alright somehow. If this post sounds somewhat depressed, noncommittal and and exhausted – well, that’s about how I feel right now.

I started developing a headache on Tuesday evening, which later progressed to some violent vomiting (and other intestinal pyrotechnics). I was sort of up and down the next two days and nights, but around 6 PM yesterday, I started to worry something was really amiss. By that point, I had been able to hold nothing in for three days. Eddie’s folks were downtown at the Art Institute, and of course my husband, as usual, was out of town on business. I rang up my BFF Gary, always dependable, always a friend, always a giver, and we hightailed it to Weiss Hospital at Wilson and Marine drive via taxi.

Four hours, one IV, several blood and urine tests later, I was pronounced the victim of an awful virus. One would think I’d be unhappy to hear this, but in fact I was relieved. This is because the resident on duty had initially scared the crap out of me with words like “aneurysm,” “stroke” and “spinal tap.” Eddie arrived at my bedside from O’Hare just as I started to shriek that I wasn’t undergoing a spinal tap, no way, no how. When I was finally released, I had to sign a form stating that I was rejecting both a cat scan and the tap “AMA” – against medical advice. Honestly, I don’t think it’s that bloody serious, but that 1% doubt in my mind is playing with me a bit.

The good news is that my head still hurts, but feels much better, and I have successfully held down the plain boiled potatoes and Gatorade that are to make up the bulk of my diet today. In the evening, I have a hearty meal of Swanson’s Chicken Broth in a can to look forward to. Beside turning down the well-paying writing job, I had to contact my Life Coach and give him the 411. He has been kind enough to extend my deadline until Monday.

Mummy and Papa have just gone off on a trolley tour of downtown, so I am able to snatch a few hours of uninterrupted peace. I need a bath, that’s for sure. I may walk around the house with my now-scrawny body naked for a few minutes, well just because I can. It seems it’s been forever now since my life was my own. It’s shameful, but the weight loss is the one part of this week that pleases me. How vain and stupid, I know.

We have another full round of family visits this weekend. I will be sitting out the delightful eating portion of things, but at least folks will understand if I am a bit quiet.

Hump Day (June 17, 2009)

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Wikipedia, one of Eddie’s all-time information sources, defines Hump Day as “An American English idiom, a reference to making it through to the middle of the work week as getting ‘over the hump.'” Well I don’t have a workweek anymore per say, although I have projects piling up on me left and right, the more so since Mummy and Papa are here and I don’t have time to work. Isn’t that always the way? These days, when it rains, it pours – quite literally.

Despite the cloudy morning skies, and little hope of seeing the sun at all this week, I do have some things to smile about. Mummy and I seem to be coming to a good understanding, borne out of mutual respect. I have been as they say, killing ’em with kindness, and the end result is that I am finding myself assaulted with criticism less and less.

Today is also the day that my second StreetWise article hits print. The Father’s Day piece I worked on features interviews with our very own Jen of All Trades, as well as my Aunt Diane and another good friend, Danielle. The article deals with the role fathers have, or have not, played in the lives of successful Chicago women. It was an emotional piece for me to prepare and one I am quite proud of. If you have a chance, pick up a copy and let me know what you think.

I had grand designs of walking the in-laws around Milennium Park today, but it appears Mother Nature has other ideas. So it’s Wal-Mart and pizza instead. Those of you closest to me are likely doing a double take, well aware that I refer to Wal-Mart on the regular as the “Evil Empire.” But these folks from India feel it is a magical place where you can purchase anything at Third World prices. This ignores the competetively unfair practices engaged in by the corporate behemoth, not to mention their Draconian labor relations. But as I do not plan to give them a dime out of my pocket, I have decided it is best to go with the flow.

Manic Monday (June 15, 2009)

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Fun fact of the day: I included a photo of the Purple One with this post, despite the fact that “Manic Monday” is a spectacular 80s tune made popular by female rock group the Bangles. The reason I put Prince Rogers Nelson up here, beside the fact that I adore him, is that he is the author of the former #1 hit. He wrote the tune and gave it to Bangles lead singer Susannah Hoffs because he had a crush on her. Lucky girl. I don’t care if Princey is 5′ 2″ or not, he is dead sexy.

Anywhoo, today has been a hell of a day. The in-laws are here and the visit is in full swing. There have been the expected ups and downs, in and outs, a few tears. However, my hellish morning had little to do with Mummy and Papa and everything to do with karma, or whatever, raining shit down upon me. As stressed as I am, it was hardly appreciated.

Last week, the day I picked up the parents from O’Hare, as luck would have it, the rear brakes on our car started to go bad. We rented a car to drive Mummy and Papa to Indiana yesterday to see relatives. So I began my day taking my own car to Midas, getting a ride back home from a 22 year-old with pimples, before turning right around and dumping the rental car back at Enterprise. Don’t believe those haters when they say they’ll “pick you up.” They should clarify by saying, “We’ll pick you up or drop you off ONLY if you’re within a two mile radius.” I live in fact 2.5 miles away from the shop, and found myself trying to find a cab in Wrigleyville during Monday morning rush hour traffic. Not an easy task.

I returned home already bushed to be told by my father-in-law that the Internet had gone completely down. Say what? I am a freelance writer who works from home. I had my fourth theater review for the Edge due, oh, yesterday! Needless to say, my reaction to this was far from serene. I called the always useless customer service people at Comcast, only to be informed with something close to pride that I could indeed receive a housecall – on Wednesday morning. Seriously, they thought this was very helpful indeed. I resisted the urge to curse these suckers out (mostly because Mummy and Papa were in the room) and proceeded to weigh my options. I quickly wrote my review, transferred it to Eddie’s flash drive and hightailed it over to my best pal’s Gary’s house.

I booted up Gary’s laptop, finally ready to rock, only to discover that his laptop was a Mac, therefore incompatible with the PC flash drive. Zoinks! What now? Fortunately, Gary’s brother Ed saved the day. He mercifully possesses a PC laptop. While posting my already overdue review, I fielded a call that my car was ready for pickup. I dashed back over to Midas, plunked down 500 bones and came back home. It was now 2:30 PM and I hadn’t had so much as a sip of water.

My father-in-law decided to lend a hand and try to sort out the Internet situation. He, like my husband, has a Master’s degree in Information Systems. He got on the phone with Comcast and somewhow managed to find someone who knew what the hell they were talking about. It took him about an hour, and a wealth of patience I will never have, but eureka! He got me back online. For the first time since Mummy and Papa came to Chicago, the tears I cried were joyful ones.

I threw a salad and smoothie down my gullet and then it was off to Bank of America. Eddie’s folks wanted to start a bank account in the U.S. and were insistent it had to be today so they could receive their permanent debit cards before flying back to India. This took two hours. I am now in the midst of five loads of laundry created by all four of us (plus my two cats) and have cleaned the kitchen and office. I am freaking wiped and as yet, I still have a full night ahead of me.

I laugh now to think that when I left the ADA, Eddie told me to enjoy my summer “off.” Hmmmm…….

The Future of the GOP: Proudly Unstudied Scott Walker Revels in Iran Ignorance

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Scott Walker

I am a dyed in the wool Midwestern woman. As a proud Chicago, Illinois native and current resident, I have a guarded affection for my neighbors to the north in Wisconsin – not only because a sizeable portion of my family resides there. According to a study from the Bay Area Center for Voting Research, the Badger State boasts two of the top 40 most liberal cities in the nation, Milwaukee and Madison. It also has a historically balanced mix of Democratic and Republican governors, which demonstrates a spirited, bipartisan embrace of political discourse. And of course there’s lot of cheese.

Wisconsin is famous for many things, including the World’s Only Polka Escalator and the NFL’s Green Bay Packers franchise. However since January 3, 2011 the state that folk singer Dar Williams once referred to as the epicenter of “can-do, earthy-crunchy attitude,” has been most famous for its current Republican governor and 2016 presidential candidate, Scott Walker. It’s been a rough time for Wisconsin progressives – and those dreading a national Walker campaign – ever since. We’ve had four years to get well acquainted with his union-busting, anti-worker tactics, animosity toward a woman’s right to make her own family planning decisions, and affection for discriminatory voting laws.

But this week, Scott Walker, Colorado Springs, Colorado native come failed Marquette University graduate, would have us swallow his reinvention as a foreign policy expert. After all, he spent a whole two hours this past winter being tutored on international affairs by the leading experts of his party. After the meeting, Philip Rucker and Robert Costa of The Washington Post wrote:

In contrast to the compelling and confident way Walker talks about his Wisconsin record, he has been shaky on foreign policy. He has traveled only rarely overseas and showed little interest in world politics in college or as governor. Policy experts and donors who have met with him privately said he lacks depth of knowledge about the international scene and speaks mostly in generalities.

But in a 2016 Republican primary season almost unprecedented for its unmitigated gall (and really, after 2012, could we have conceived of a lower bar?), a complete and total lack of experience, intellectual curiosity or insight didn’t stop Scott Walker from weighing in on the historic, multilateral diplomatic agreement limiting Iran’s nuclear program this week. I believe Salon.com writer Simon Maloy captured the results rather nicely in the piece, Scott Walker Makes a Clown of Himself: Foreign Policy-challenged Candidate Disastrously Flubs Iran. In response to Walker’s reckless campaign claim that he would as president, “pull back, I would terminate that bad deal with Iran completely on day one,” Maloy wrote:

Walker seems to think that the U.S. will have the standing and credibility to assemble a multilateral sanctions regime against Iran immediately after he unilaterally detonates the diplomatic framework that our allies have painstakingly worked on for so long.

And that’s just the first problem with the Wisconsin governor’s comments. As the website Real Clear Politics reported, Walker also labeled the compromise “one of the biggest disasters of the Obama-Clinton doctrine.” This is shameless politicking over a momentous, if nerve-wracking agreement that gives the United States a real shot at preventing nuclear war in the Middle East. What did we have before this week? Absolutely nothing. Walker should know this, as he knows it was Secretary of State John Kerry who brokered the tense negotiations, not 2016 presidential front-runner Hillary Clinton. The latter may be in fact the only foreign policy detail of which the Republican candidate is aware.

If one of the demonstrations of fitness for the nation’s highest office is the ability to understand the issues and comment judiciously, Walker failed at both ends of the test this week. It’s not really a surprise, nor is Walker alone in ignorance. As our writers have reported continuously, all 15 Republican presidential candidates raced to the nearest microphone to voice criticism of the Iran plan without offering a credible alternative. But still, you’d think a man long touted as the “future” of the party would have something more to offer than stale, pandering stupidity.

Concierge (June 12, 2009)

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You know what they say about the best laid plans. I had developed a logical and balanced itinerary. I had talked out everything in advance with both Eddie and his folks: the need to balance work with spending time with them, and keeping up with my own personal needs. And yet, here I sit a mere 19 hours after the arrival of Mummy and Papa, way behind already on work, skipping my Pilates class. I have changed Euros at Chase Bank, helped cook my first Indian dinner, learned to make tea the “right” way (and all this time I never knew I was doing it wrong), and even managed to slip out of the house to see the next show I have to review for The Edge.

Argh! Sorry I am back. My MIL was just giving me a lesson on the benefits and demerits of sleeping North/South vs. East/West, and the bad karma it causes when your head points North. Seriously. This is why I was called away from the computer. I love these folks to death, but how will I get anything done? This is exactly what I was afraid of. Eddie keeps saying we will work through this visit as a team, but that’s sort of hard when he’s out of town four days a week and working 12 hours on Fridays. I am going to need the weekend to catch up.

Folks, it’s only Day 1. I need a pep talk.