Archive for January, 2009

It’s Hard For Me To Say I’m Sorry

You know why? I rarely say anything I don’t mean. I’m thoughtful, sensitive to the feelings of others (ok, except for Paris Hilton) and I’m not racist, sexist or intolerant of most things…except racism, sexism and intolerance.

I’m interested in my readers’ thoughts on a current incident with Tom Hanks apologizing for a statement he made regarding Mormon supporters of Proposition 8 being “un-American”.

I admit, I’m torn in two. To me there is nothing more American than voting your opinion and yet, I honestly believe that not allowing gay marriage is absolute discrimination. Somehow being able to cast a vote in favor of inequity just rubs me the wrong way. It seems Tom Hanks feels the same way.


What do you think? (you don’t have to agree with me, of course)

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Teen Age Crush

Something amazingly fabulous has happened to The Rock Chick. Alright, it’s not all that amazing, but that was a good attention grabber, no? Hang in there, it is a cool story.

I am fascinated by celebrities. I don’t know why, but I always have been and in my youth, I had some heartaching teenage crushes on several heartthrobs like Shaun Cassidy, Erik Estrada, Mark Harmon and Gregory Harrison.

In my early high school years, Gregory Harrison was starring on a show called Trapper John MD. He played the offbeat Dr. Gonzo Gates and his curly brown hair, dark eyes and charming good looks had me crushing on him….bad! So bad, in fact, that I put pictures of him on the inside of my school locker.

Don’t believe me? Here’s proof.


Yes, you are looking at a picture of The Rock Chick (although, I was The Choir Chick back then) circa 1981, posing in front of her locker and showing off her Gonzo Gates picture along with a cast picture of Trapper John MD.

Seriously? How dorky can one be? I don’t even know how I opened my locker in public.

I recently came across this picture of myself and my sister found it hysterical. She found out that Gregory Harrison had his own website and his e-mail address was posted. He loves to hear from fans, I guess. Who knew?

I’ve never been much of a fan letter writing person, but once when my sister and I were young, we wrote fan letters to Mr. Rogers. I received a record back in the mail and my sister’s letter went unanswered. She said that I had to email that photo along with a little note to Gregory Harrison because I’m lucky that way.

I, being completely bored out of my mind recovering from back surgery, agreed to do it. I had nothing else to do.

Well, to my surprise….HE E-MAILED ME BACK! Yes, it’s true….here’s what he wrote!!!

Dear Jessica,
Thanks for the email and the good laugh.  I appreciate your attention now and I also appreciate your attention way back in the old days. I have to say you were a great looking high school girl, and I’ll bet you are still lovely.  I hope you will enjoy the AU PAIR 3 movie that is coming out in March on ABC Family Channel.  I look a little older, but so it goes.
Thanks again,
Gregory

Darn tootin’ I’m still lovely! Not only is the man gorgeous, he’s smart, too! And Gregory…I’m on a first name basis now with Gregory Harrison. I officially have a celebrity BFF! Cool, right?

Riding in a limousine with Paris Hilton can’t be too far off after all!

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Signed, Sealed, Delivered

I’ve revealed to all of you before that I am a weeping willow. Sad, worried, injured, angry or full of hope, joy and pride…all are expressed by me through water works. I can’t help it, I’ve inherited that from my mother. It’s genetic, people.

Watching the continuing news coverage regarding today’s presidential inauguration, I found my eyes quite teary as certain images projected onto the TV screen. Earlier today, after President Obama was sworn in as our 44th President, he, Michelle and The Bidens were photographed walking down the steps of the US Capitol building and it caused my heart to leap!

I have long been a supporter of Barack Obama and today, my fellow Americans, we not only have our first African-American president in the White House, we also have Catboots.


Yes, that’s right. People may have questioned President Obama’s experience with foreign policy and for that reason, Vice President Joe Biden was a wise choice as a running mate. Barack Obama is a man of words. I believe in his words and that his gift of speech will be an effective tool in dealing with foreign policy issues, but it’s comforting to me to know that if words alone should fail, Jill Biden can get in there and kick some ass.

In all seriousness, today was really an emotional day for me. As I was readjusting to getting back to work after my back surgery, I watched the news coverage of the inauguration on the small set we have at work.

The image of Barack Obama standing to be sworn in as President of The United States in front of The Capitol Building, a structure that slaves help construct, his right hand in the air and his left on the very same bible that Abraham Lincoln used, was too much for this blubberer to bear without waterworks. By the time he spoke to the words “So help me God” and the massive crowd, bursting with an energy I’ve never seen before, starting cheering, I was dripping just like the leaky faucet in my bathroom. The only difference is that I don’t have a handle to jiggle to get it to turn off. Once I get going, I’m like Niagara Falls. I was sniffing all morning talking to customers on the phone.

There may be a new face in The White House, but Obama’s ideas are nothing new to me. I was raised by very Kennedy-esque parents, who believed in service, giving back what you can and working with others towards greater goals. My father was very active in Kiwanis (the name is taken from an American Indian expression meaning “we share our talents”) and from little on, he had my sister and I out there on “Peanut Day” helping to raise funds for future projects servicing children and our community.

I remember as a young little rock chick going out to dinner with my family one evening. As we walked toward the restaurant, a woman approached us and said that she had run out of gas and had no money on her and was wondering if we could help her out. My father reached in his pocket, took out $5 and handed it to her without batting an eye. This was shocking to me because I think was earning an allowance of fifty cents a week and I had to work for it.

I remember asking my dad how he didn’t know she was lying and just wanted our money? My dad said that he couldn’t be sure, but he’d rather take the chance of giving the money to someone who was misleading him, than being cynical and suspicious and not helping someone who really needed it.

My dad died when I was young, but he didn’t leave this earth before instilling his values in me. I have never forgotten those words, nor the lesson I learned from him that day and every day I got to spend with him.

Barack Obama speaks the lessons I grew up with. People see him as many different things, and he is much more than this nation’s first black president. He is also hope, perseverance, kindness and magnaminity. What I see is a man who, through his God given gift of speech, is able to speak to people of any color, any economic level and any background. He doesn’t speak to any “type” of person, he speaks to the heart and that’s why he has captured America’s like he has.

I was able to contain myself for most of the afternoon until I saw the live coverage from The Neighborhood Ball this evening. Beyonce sang one of my favorite songs, “At Last”, as our new President and First Lady took to the dance floor. I think the only thing stronger than this nation’s Obama-mania right now is the love they obviously have for each other. It was so sweet and sincere, I cried again.

Today I am so doggone proud to be an American and I am in awe of our new President. God bless him and all Americans as we open this new chapter we are so fortunate to get to experience. I’m praying that his wisdom and words can bring peace all over, but if not, I’m grateful to have Jill’s catboots at the ready.

The days was wonderful to watch and as the coverage and the balls come to a close it’s official. He is signed, presidentially sealed and delivered, baby. He’s ours!

At last! I’m so excited, I could cry!

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Guilty Pleasures

We all have them. I don’t care what anybody says, I believe that everyone is hooked on something. Some thing..THAT thing that is so tempting that it just can’t be resisted. An addiction, almost. Is this inherently bad? Why do we have to feel guilty because we enjoy something?

I’m not talking about the obvious destructive addictions like drugs or alcohol. I’m referring to other entities to which one can add an “aholic” suffix, like chocoholic, workaholic, online pokeraholic or maybe even, Facebookaholic.

Shelly wrote a post today about how I got her hooked on Facebook. I am completely enamored with Facebook. I find it quite enjoyable to get reconnected with the people I’ve lost touch with years ago and I’m interested in their status updates. Facebook, to me, is kind of mini-blogging and the fact that I can take it “to go” on my iPhone only makes it more appealing to me. It’s different every time I check in and I’m crazy about it.

I’m not going to apologize nor feel guilty. No one is suffering because I check Facebook during TV commercials.

Segueway to my second “aholic” confession….TV. I adore television. I also confess that I will pretty much watch anything, including The Real Housewives of Orange County, which I think is one of the worst shows ever along with Dog The Bounty Hunter, but I keep tuning in to both for reasons even unknown to me. Feeling guilty, though? Nope.

Why is it that when I mention I enjoy playing online poker to people that they give me that “look”? Despite the government’s belief that if people are allowed to play online poker, they will lose their cars, their homes and their families, this is just not true. I’m not saying that this won’t happen to some people, but it won’t happen to me. I play low stakes games and I don’t play with my grocery money or my car payment. I also win a lot which means I’m not losing anything. I enjoy the game of poker and in order to play, you must buy into the game. That’s just the way it is. It’s a lot of fun and I like it.

Still not feeling guilty.

My name is Jessica and I am an enjoyaholic. I make no apologies for my guilty pleasures and I don’t need any twelve step programs. Life would be no fun without these things.


Who are you and what’s your guilty pleasure?

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Life Is A Highway

If there’s one thing I really like to do, it’s drive on the highway. I should probably clarify. I enjoy driving on the highway when there’s not a lot of other traffic, traffic jams and construction. Living in Chicago, that doesn’t happen often, but late at night and sometimes on the weekends it can be accomplished. I’m not a speeder, but there is something very soothing to me about going about 60 without having to stop and just cranking up the radio until you can feeling the beats pulsing through your body.

I must say, I’m really enjoying doing this is our slightly used/new-to-us Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo. That ride is sweet! And the stereo, well, lets just say it does Bon Jovi proud and my ears are still ringing from my trip today, which is somewhat of a miracle because I thought for sure they had fallen off from frostbite somewhere near the alligator swamp.

As many of you know, I have been in the house for months. Not even “the house”, I’ve been held hostage in my bedroom because I can’t seem to sit on any of my existing furniture since my back surgery. I’m a far cry from The Rock Chick prior to the herniatied disc. I’ve become freaking Goldilocks.

This chair is too hard. That one is too soft. I can’t sit on any of my dining room chairs, nor any of my couches. The only thing that is “just right” is my Tempurpedic foam mattress. (Seriously, if you don’t have one of those, get one!)

In a last ditch effort to maintain my sanity, I decided to seek out the advice of the only creatures I felt could honestly help me…bears, of course. Doctors seem useless at this point. In desperation, I, totally not a winter person, bundled up, got on the highway and shuffled through the zoo in search of the bear with the “just right” everything to see if he would loan me his chair. I wouldn’t have turned down his porridge if he offered it to me, either. It was 23 degrees while I was headed to the zoo. Balmy compared to the -23 degree temperatures we’ve been experiencing, but whether I’m Goldilocks or The Rock Chick, that is “too cold”.

Slipping on sleet, shivering through my layers of clothing and wiping my drippy nose, I found two polar bears who wouldn’t even talk to me. The one looked up at me and went back to knocking some old box around the exhibit. Bitch.

There were no other bears in sight and I know when I’m not wanted, so I headed over to one of my favorite places in the whole world to cheer (and warm!) myself up. The Western Lowland Gorilla Exhibit at Brookfield Zoo.

If you’ve never been, you are missing out. The gorillas reside in the Tropic House along with many other types of primates, including one of my other favorites, the orangutan. Brookfield Zoo, located right outside the city of Chicago is an amazing place and has gained international recognition for using moats and ditches instead of cages to separate the people from the animals.

One of the places you can get the closest to the animals is in the Gorilla Exhibit. Surprisingly to me, they completely ignore the people there gawking at them. Sometimes, they will look at you, but most of the time, they just rest on branches and scratch themselves. This exhibit made world wide news about ten years ago when a three year old boy fell into the exhibit. He was knocked unconscious and a female gorilla named Binti, with her baby on her back, cradled the child and picked him up and took him to the handler’s door where the trainers could retrieve him.

Even though sometimes the gorillas are just resting on branches, I love to watch them. I love how they interact with each other, how they play, how they care for each other and I especially love to watch the mothers with their babies.

I also fancy myself a gorilla photographer. Well, that’s my dream, anyway. In reality, I’m really more of a gorilla ass photographer because they always seem to move just as I’m shooting. They do this on purpose, I know it.

I did get a couple of good shots, though. This is Binti, the hero gorilla, with her three year old child.

This poor guy looks like he had a rough night.

Either that or he’s wishing we’d all get the heck out of his house, I don’t know.

One things for sure, I was happier than heck to get out of my house. Last year was a rough road to travel. I promised myself that this year, no matter what, would be better. I would make it better.

This year, I won’t allow time to slip by me without doing things that I enjoy, come hell or high water, heat waves or sub-zero temperatures.

Sometimes things will be too soft and sometimes they will be so hard that I wonder how I will pound through, but regardless, I’m going to keep pushing until everything this year is “just right”.

Life is a highway and I want to ride it all night long!!!

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Baby, It’s COLD Outside!

This is without the wind chill factored in. With the wind chill, it feels like 30 below zero in Chicago today!

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Back In Black

Yes, after a month long hiatus from blogging and because Shelly nagged me today I’m kidding!), I am back. In black.

In a black 2005 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo to be exact.

You may remember that in early December, my oldest daughter was in a horrific rollover accident that, incredibly, she and her three friends all walked away from completely unscathed. Our red Dodge Durango she was driving wasn’t as lucky. The vehicle was totaled.

After much searching, comparing and dealing with quite a few idiotic, pain in the ass car salesmen, we found the Jeep and are quite happy with it.

I’m also a little black and blue. I had a microsdiscectomy to repair a herniated disc that was causing me excruciating sciatica pain. The surgery itself wasn’t so bad and within a few days, I was declaring that the surgery should be renamed to miraclediscectomy. I was standing up straight, walking and the pain in my arse and down my leg had completely subsided.

But….it came back. (Of course it did. This is the kind of luck that I have.)

At my two week checkup, the doctor gave me some speech about how nerves can act up all on their own, blah blah blah, and increased the anti-seizure medication I am taking for nerve pain and added a muscle relaxer, some steroids and stronger pain killers into the mix.

Yeah, it didn’t help.

So yesterday at my four week check up, the doctor was concerned that somehow I have reherniated the disc that I just had repaired. He sent me for an MRI and I should hear the results tomorrow.

I was really hoping to be better by now.
I need to get back to work and I am tired of laying around the house. I lay around the house because I can’t sit for any length of time without screaming. It’s not pretty and I’ve developed an addiction to watching terrible shows like The Real Housewives of Orange County and Dog The Bounty Hunter just to pass the time. How awful is that???

Speaking of the passing of time, did you all have a nice New Year’s?

JW and I spent the evening with all of the Hysteria Laners, passing the time playing Mad Gab, listeing to Carlos and Gabi fight like cats and dogs and eating lots of goodies. I watched the clock tick away and kissed my hubby as the clock struck midnight. I cheered in the arrival of 2009 because 2008 pretty much sucked and I couldn’t wait for it to be over.

2009 was going to be our year. And it was….for 13 minutes.

Yes, that’s right, 13 minutes after midnight we got a call that my son was being taken in an ambulance to a nearby hospital. He was at a party at a friend’s house and when the midnight ball dropped, the kids decided to throw pillows and one pillow knocked a very heavy lamp type thing off of a high shelf right where my son was standing.

Instinctively, he stuck his hands out to catch it and it broke in his hands. We were told he had deep lacerations on both hands and to meet the ambulance at the hospital. We were there until 3:30 am having his hands sewn up. Yikes. Fortunately, he is on the mend and will be fine, but he won’t be able to compete with wrestling for several weeks. He’s bummed, but what can you do? It’s gotta heal.

So for now, consider me back in black. I’ve been gone too long and I’m glad to be back.

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