Lateshoes

The Wire

Positive spin: Lars and I are finally caught up with the current season. We watched 5 episodes in a row last night alone – (It’s like crack, what do you want from me?)

Negative spin: Omar?! Really? But, I… but… really?

Driving

Positive spin: Having my own car is totally convenient.

Negative spin: Speed traps at the bottom of a big hill and the $82 ticket I just paid – they suck my balls.

Work

Positive spin: Best job I’ve ever had.

Negative spin: “Content Management” sucks my balls.

Diets

Positive spin: It’s really not that bad and I’m actually losing some blubb.

Negative spin: I would take a human life for an éclairs from The Bakery.

New TV

Positive spin: Basically this tv is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.

Negative spin: Post upgrade, my Tivo won’t talk to my HD cable box…and basically a life without Tivo is not a life worth living. (At least once you’ve gotten used to it).

Positive spin 2: Melissa is going to come over tonight to work some of her super-electronic-magician voo doo on that shit. She’ll make them talk, yes, she will.

Today really tested the limits of my patience. It started out nicely enough. As of this morning I’ve lost 18lbs and despite the oh….million more I’ve got to go, I’m pretty encouraged that I can keep this up. So that’s the good news.

Now, for the other stuff. I should warn you that precipice for all of this borders on TMI, but then – this whole blog pretty much does that, so – whatever, you’re all grown ups, you can take it. The fertility specialist I’m seeing (the lady who started this whole “weight loss” thing) put me on birth control, which sounds…insane (at least it did to me), but her expert opinion is that being on birth control while I’m trying to lose weight will preserve and possibly enhance my fertility for when my body is actually “ready” to start makin’ the babies. She explained it much fancier and science-y-er than that – but, that’s pretty much the jist.

So, the birth control she prescribed, besides having the dumbest, most humiliating name ever given to a pharmaceutical has unleashed upon me the longest, gnarliest, horror-show like period I’ve ever had in my entire. life. As of today we’re talking 3 weeks, 5 days and 21 hours. And it’s not just the mildly inconvenient, pest that most periods are. It’s what I like to call a Dario Argento period.

This morning I met with my doctor to make sure I wasn’t going to die, basically and she assured me not. What she could not promise is that I won’t go insane. And, let me tell you people – it’s already happening. On the way to the doctor traffic was crazy, I couldn’t find a parking place, blah blah blah and after my appointment I got lost trying to find my way out of the under-construction hospital, so by the time I made it to my car I was already in an inconsolable loon state. But, then – I realized the person parked next to my driver side was parked so crooked and so far into my lane that I couldn’t walk between to open my door. Our bumpers were less than an inch apart.

I had to walk around the front and squeeze between our cars to get to my door, then I could barely open the door at all and had to squeeze inside which almost tore my coat. Something inside me completely snapped. I wanted to key their car. I wanted to take a baseball bat to the windshield. I settled for writing a chicken-scratched note on an old Wendy’s napkin, it went something like this:

Learn how to park.

You suck.

I hope you die.

Fuck you very much!

Later, when I regained my ability to think rationally I felt kind of bad. Like, this person was parked at a hospital after all. I mean, what if they are dying and I just like, totally rubbed it in. Then I thought. Whatever. Fuck them. They should learn how to park.

See? Crazy.

The Wire, season 4 is kicking my ass – and showing me some major Omar-ding-dong.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FEM3_LGGt8&rel=1]

I’ve always been a sucker for the paranormal, or if I’m betraying my own healthy cynicism, I’ve always been “open” to it.

When I was three or four my family lived with my grandparents in a small, green house in Homestead, Florida. I don’t remember too much about that time except that I loved my grandparent’s enormously sweet St. Bernard, Topper. He and I were inseparable. I’m not sure how long we lived in the house before he died, but the circumstances surrounding his death have always troubled me. The way I remember the story, Topper was sleeping in the back yard and around 3 o’clock in the morning, my mother woke up and felt compelled to go into the garage. When she opened the door, she found the dog lying there, bleeding from his nose and mouth. The garage door was closed and she couldn’t figure out how he’d even gotten in there.

All of that was strange enough, but the house itself had a history my parent’s weren’t aware of until later – most significantly, the previous tenant had committed suicide in the garage. Creeeeeeepy.

When I was in the 7th grade my family moved to Vancouver, Washington. We moved into a hundred-year-old house that had “problems” from the start. Almost immediately we could hear strange sounds coming from the basement – a rocking chair, the occasional moan. I often thought I saw shadows passing in front of a mirror my parents had hung in the entryway. I remember once my mother placing a tissue box on the mantle and saying out loud, “Okay! I’m leaving this right here” before leaving the house. I don’t remember if it was moved when we returned.

Angie and I lived in an apartment in 1999 that never felt right – but, we couldn’t quite put our finger on it. It started with our retreat to our bedroom. Without ever speaking about it, we both stopped spending any major time at all in the living or dining room. Despite the fact the free cable on our t.v. Over time, we’d both had the sensation of someone sitting in the corner chair in the living room and seeing “something” out of the corner of our eye when walking past.

We never discussed it at the time and only confirmed the feeling later. Other times we’d both felt we’d seen someone rush through the hallway to the bathroom mirror, but stop… and we both had the distinct feeling that whatever was there couldn’t or felt it couldn’t come into our bedroom.

Except one night!! (Creeeepy) I woke up in the middle of the night feeling extremely cold and when I opened my eyes I was certain I saw the figure of a man standing in the hallway, watching. CREEEPY!!

Angie’s sister, Chrissy came to stay the night with us and without telling her anything, she came into our room and said she couldn’t sleep on our couch because she kept getting horrible feelings. Later, when Tawnya came back from England, she had the exact experience.

My last and most recent experience was far less creepy or malicious. In the Pollyanna apartments in Salt Lake City (an historic brick apartment building, built in the 18oo’s) we experienced something neither myself or Lars (who thinks this stuff is complete shite) could explain. We’d adopted a feral cat from our friend Anita. She never let us touch her and spent most of her time in hiding, under our bed – until we moved into this apartment.

One night we came home and she was on our bed – I don’t know why I tried to pet her but I did – and incredibly, she not only let me but, purred and twirled all over the bed with happiness. Then I noticed something – she smelled really strongly of pot. Like really strong. I just blew it off… oh, our neighbors lit up downstairs and she got high through the vents. Whatever.

The next few times it happened it was clear that nothing else in the house smelled like pot – just her…and she was becoming more tame by the second. It was strange, but we didn’t give it much thought, because cats are crazy – until a former tenant told me, completely unbidden that the woman who lived in the apartment above us died a few years ago of cancer and that had been smoking medicinal marijuana in the apartment for years. After she died the landlord found six cats inside. She apparently collected neighborhood strays. (Kinda creeeepy, but mostly sweet). After we moved, Nadine stopped smelling of the mary-j, completely!

I don’t know what any of these stories mean or how “real” my experiences have been – Do I just have a crazy, rich imagination? Maybe my reportedly psychic great–grandmother passed some of her joo-joo down to me. Maybe, I’ve seen too many movies – whatever, I’m a sucker for ghosts and ghost stories.

Even this new show on A&E that follows these total beaters from the Penn State Paranormal society. I love it. Lars wants to kick all of their asses and while I agree that the kids are pretty much, spankers – I can’t help getting totally suckered into the show.

Yeah, I’m a douche – so now you know.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIFIoINjqzw&rel=1]

I can’t stand Scarlett Johansson.

Maybe it’s because I feel let down – having absolutely loved her in Ghost World and Lost in Translation. Based on those performances I expected dignity and sass, smarts and talent and instead she served up a steaming heap of smug, self-satisfaction and an ever present placid mug of smirkiness. She’s like George W.  with tits.

Look, I know the girl is beautiful – but – she’s so aware of how pretty she is, she can’t help wearing it all over her face and that’s just – ugly.

More than my sour grapes (yes, I just hate hot chicks, cos I’m soooo jealous – yes, yes) her acting? It fucking sucks. She’s seemingly incapable of conveying anything beyond vacant bedroom eyes and chest heaving in front of a camera. She acts just like my friend Valerie in our 11th grad production of The Bad Seed.

Observe:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNTOdotBCc4&rel=1]

**An unfortunate side effect of watching that clip is that you will lose all and any crushy feelings you may have otherwise felt for Colin Firth.

I would be ever so grateful if you could just stop scratching, stinging and generally annoying me.

I’ve had enough of your coughing and your wheezing and general resistance to that whole swallowing thing.

Your “pal,”

Tracy

Omar (my Macbook) -yeah, I’m talking about that bitch again…he’s finally home from his long stay at Macdocs where he received a new Logic Board. Yikes! Thanks Applecare for picking up the check on that jacked up bit of guts you stuck inside my computer.

And now the original Omar. Please do enjoy a clip from the best show in the world.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pKE-JDjYog&rel=1]

Dear Tracy,

Thank you for your e-mail regarding our Women’s Plus line.  After much
evaluation, and as difficult a decision as it was, we have removed the
Women’s Plus line from all of our Old Navy stores.  Please accept our
sincere apologies for any disappointment this may cause you.  However,
we continue to carry Women’s sizes 1-20 in our stores.

Although we no longer carry Women’s Plus in any of our stores, the
complete line is still available on our website at oldnavy.com.  You can
place an order on the web or by calling 1-800-OLD-NAVY, option one.  Our
online representatives are available 24 hours a day to assist you with
questions or order placement.  In addition, you can return Women’s Plus
items by mail for free.

We hope this information is helpful and look forward to shopping with
you soon.

Sincerely,

Adam
Customer Service Consultant

Wow. Old Navy can truly suck it.

Here’s my letter:

To Whom it may concern,

I am a “big girl” and I have shopped at your store for several years. I usually find that some of your XL tops fit me perfectly and I’ve been wearing your size 16 or 18 jeans depending on the pair. However, I’m not always able to squeeze into your regular line.

I heard by word of mouth and not through any advertising campaign that Old Navy would begin carrying a Plus Size line a few years ago, but that this line could only be found Online or in select stores. (Lame)

I promptly ordered clothes from your online store (taking what I could get) and was sadly disappointed nearly every time with how the clothes fit.
I don’t know how many sizing models you used, but unless your goal was to make every chubby girl in America look dumpy, you were way off the mark. The shirts were typically crafted for circus giants with long arms, no breasts and small stomachs – while your skirts and pants sported the ever-unflattering gut pocket…highlighting and misshaping the body in the most horrendous ways. Whoever designed your plus line has either never seen a chubby girl or has a murderous vendetta against them and is hell bent on destroying their collective self-image.
I have recently learned that Old Navy is pulling their plus-size line from whatever stores that they had been in and will only be offering them to customers online. I find this move vulgar and repulsive. You want to discriminate against your larger clients by forcing them to pay for shipping on items BEFORE they know if they will even fit (and here’s a hint – they probably won’t). You’re discriminating against the part of your client base that needs to try on your clothes the most.

I’ve heard the reason for pulling your plus line is because it wasn’t doing very well – Well, of course it wasn’t! You NEVER advertised it. You were too busy putting 80 lb. anorexics in underwear and turtlenecks in your commercials. You didn’t carry the line in enough stores to really, properly assess marketing and sales data accurately or fairly against your regular line and you never considered how poorly designed the line was to begin with.

I borrow my final statement from a fellow disgusted customer who said -
I am a professional woman with a secure job and no kids. I have a good amount of disposable income and I love to shop, but it seems that Old Navy does not have space for me in its stores. I will be exercising my capitalist prerogative to not shop Old Navy again, until I can feel welcome to shop for clothes in my own size in your stores.

*Now write your letter!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJ8zIMiFRA4&rel=1]

When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road, turn out the lights, get out and look up at the sky
And I do this to remind me that I’m really, really tiny
In the grand scheme of things and sometimes this terrifies me
But it’s only really scary cause it makes me feel serene
In a way I never thought I’d be because I’ve never been
So grounded, and so humbled, and so one with everything
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything
Rock and roll is fun but if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky
Say I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye
When I saw Geneviève I really liked it when she said
What she said about the giant and the lemmings on the cliff
She said ‘I like giants
Especially girl giants
Cause all girls feel too big sometimes
Regardless of their size’
When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road and run and jump into the ocean in my clothes
And I’m smaller than a poppyseed inside a great big bowl
And the ocean is a giant that can swallow me whole
So I swim for all salvation and I swim to save my soul
But my soul is just a whisper trapped inside a tornado
So I flip to my back and I float and I sing
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything
So I talked to Geneviève and almost cried when she said
That the giant on the cliff wished that she was dead
And the lemmings on the cliff wished that they were dead
So the giant told the lemmings why they ought to live instead
When she thought up all those reasons that they ought to live instead
It made her reconsider all the sad thoughts in her head
So thank you Geneviève, cause you take what is in your head
And you make things that are so beautiful and share them with your friends
We all become important when we realize our goal
Should be to figure out our role within the context of the whole
And yeah, rock and roll is fun, but if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky
Say I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye
And I don’t wanna make her cry
Cause I like giants