I can’t handle it anymore. I’m sure you have heard of the state of my radio in the bunker-cum-cube that I am located in office-wise. Yeah, yeah, I could bring CD’s, except for the fact that like having digital cable or satellite TV, there’s just so many choices I can find nothing. Luckily, or not, because of the reception (or lack thereof) in the office. I normally have the choice of one. One station. So this must be how it’s like in North Korea. Well, I could’ve said the USSR, but since that does not exist anymore and I can’t, I didn’t. Anyway, I get in Star 98.7, which is basically your average “I’m listening to this crap because I still believe I’m hip and cool even though the songs are annoying and sound the same, but thank goodness they play 80’s music at lunch!” station. The morning hosts (Jamie and Danny) are a guilty thing for me because a) I hate morning shows and b) they are sooooo crass and rude – not like Howard Stern, though, which I guess is a mixed blessing – but funny and c) there’s nothing else to listen to.

I try dutifully every morning to see if I can get in 94.7 The Wave! – the “smooth jazz” station. Much more pleasant in the morning, but right around 7:45 (about 15 minutes after I’ve arrived at work) the ventilation system kicks in and I get interference. Sometimes I’m lucky and I’m able to have it on for about 30 minutes before it’s useless.

Today I have fully reached my irritation point with popular music and whiny singers/dj’s (your pick) and now am listening to scratchy reception havin’ interference like a bad cell phone happenin’ goddamn classical music. Barg. My uterus and I thank you for listening to my rant today. Paz.

posted by Subvervia 11:01:00 AM

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I process medicaid (called Medi-Cal – how original – here in California) claims for eligibility during the week. Lots of newborns. I came across one yesterday where the mother was thirteen years old. Which means she was twelve when she became pregnant. The baby is also having complications, even though she was born full-term. I don’t know, but it made me sad. Babies having babies. I understand it’s a different world out there than when I was her (the mother’s) age. Still – perhaps it’s even more difficult now for her to be having a child to raise in this day and age. The mother was notified of what was happening with the child. As was Social Services because this is a teen pregnancy. I even wonder if the new mother can comprehend what is going on. Thirteen. I wish them both luck. In my case, that would mean that I’d be the mother of a 21 year old if I had given birth at her age. Oy. I cannot fathom what it would be like to be the mother of a legal adult.

posted by Subvervia 2:30:00 PM

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So my friend Mabster sent me an article from the New York Times (note: NOT the National Enquirer) about a talking fish who supposedly was channeling the soul of a dead Hasid in upstate New York and yelling out warnings in Hebrew. It was witnessed and heard by the Jewish owner of the fish shop at which the prophetic carp ended up, and the Hispanic non-Jewish assistant (who ended up butchering said fish). God, apparently, wants to talk to all people. Not just the chosen few, whoever they think they are. Then again, it could be a hearty Purim joke. Personally, I would’ve chosen a different fish. Carp are not very sexy. Heh.

I feel so…biblical. Maybe it’s also reading in the Daily News (San Fernando Valley edition) about those hellish sandstorms that have been slowing down the troops crawling towards Baghdad. There was an article quoting some colonel-type about how the only place he’d seen the black column of sand heading towards them was in “The Scorpion King”. Where’s The Rock when you need him? Or Bruce Willis, or Tom Hanks? They’d get Saddam. In 3 hours, no less, with much more visually appealing battle scenes. None of that fuzzy green night-vision shtuff that we’ve been treated to on CNN.

Chile rellenos make me happy. So do cheese enchiladas. And so do freshly fried bean and cheese chimichangas. Taking my disgusting De-Stress Formula, which has extracts of bovine innards (I guess it’s a source of liver) and which I call rabbit pellets, does not make me happy. However, it keeps me healthy. Plus, here’s my Heloise Hint for the day. If you don’t like to taste anything that you have to eat – just hold your nose while you’re chewing/swallowing. At least all you have to deal with is the aftertaste.

Oh, and I heard on the radio that only children (such as myself) are more prone to look for outside amusement if they are in a relationship. Ha! I say, since I am not in a relationship to be amused outside of. The point is moot.

posted by Subvervia 12:50:00 PM

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The Santa Ana winds have been blowing through Southern California again, and with it comes my lovely allergies. I don’t know whether it’s the dust in my house or the new dust floating through my windows, or the dust that is starting to come up today at work – they’re renovating the other half of the office suite and just ripped up carpet – but I am slightly…verklempt. I’ve invested in the Kleenex With Lotion (Aloe!) and a little bottle of Allergy Relief Eye Drops. However, the area beneath my nose is raw and red and itchy. What is the name of that area anyway? I’m sure I learned it on Jeopardy, but I forget.

Speaking of winds, those of you who live in areas with palm trees are familiar with driving around on windy days and having to avoid the big fronds and assorted detritus in the roads that come from palm trees swaying, indeed, whipping to and fro, in the winds. And every morning as I drive to work, I wonder, wouldn’t that SUCK if a tree fell on my house. It’s kinda bad when humming along doing 35 (the speed limit in Subvervia) and suddenly there is a big honking piece o’ dead palm smack dab in the left lane and there’s nowhere for you to go. Much worse to have the big tall tree itself sway and smash your lanai, if ya know what I mean.

Itchy and I sound like a foghorn blowing my nose with unfortunate regularity. Welcoming home the dust mites floating around the ocean of recycled office air. Could be worse, though. As I always remind myself, I COULD BE COUNTING CIGARETTES!!! Heh.

posted by Subvervia 11:20:00 AM

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Another episode of fabulousness

Location – The Grove, Los Angeles’ newest shoppers’ paradise (I dare not call it a “mall”!) For those familiar with LA – it is located smack dab next to the Farmers’ Market, which of course, could potentially make for some interesting parking stories, as FM’s lots are woefully and expensively inadequate to the hordes of mass consumers. But – there is a lovely 8-storey carpark (again, it sounds just oh-so-more-continental than garage) adjacent to The Grove. Comes complete with those helpful little digital signs overhead that indicate “On This Floor – Spots Remaining: 44”. And you dutifully follow the linked pylons that force you to snake up the various levels to those floors who have more than 2 spots available (like you’d ever FIND those two spots if you tried) and the next thing you know you’re on the sixth floor!

BTW – how to describe The Grove – like being in the shops at the Venetian in Las Vegas, except that the stores are slightly bigger, the sky overhead is real, and instead of the Grand Canal with gondolas, there is an old-fashioned (gasp!) trolley complete with bells and a conductor and tracks! I guess it’s for those who can’t make it to San Francisco. I was intrigued by a kiosk that sold “Your Portrait in Crystal!” Immediately thought of my mother, who would truly appreciate having her 3D image inserted into a block of crystal. Keeping that filed for Christmas…

OK – so the fabulousness really took place in the elevator going back up to my car. Picture if you will, an elderly couple having just attended a movie. The husband is in what could only be described as an SUV of a wheelchair, which came fully equipped with a male Filipino nurse (read: driver) who was clutching two half-eaten bags of popcorn (wonder if they deigned to give their caregiver some popcorn of his own…probably not) whilst navigating his charge into the elevator. With him was his wife – She Who Is Fabulous. Dig the artificially blond hair (would have to be at her age) impeccably done (I see visions of hair net – the spray by day and the real thing by night…) sporting intriguing yet tasteful modern gold jewelry against a coordinated salmon pink velour “casual wear” (never call it a sweat suit). OK - but here was what made it fabulous. The cane she was using was color coordinated to her outfit. No joke. It had it’s own cover that was perfectly salmon pink just like what she was wearing. Now THAT is fabulous taken to the next level. So very LA.

posted by Subvervia 9:15:00 AM

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My goodness gracious. Time flies when you're busy, huh? Tis the 9th of March and I'm busy AT HOME, for once, doin' the laundry and cleaning up the disaster known as my room. But I thought i'd take a little time out and post a little something. So this war thing is ridiculous. For once, I say, President Bush - give in to the peer pressure. Bombing the Middle East will not do anything except make that part of the Earth a very toxic place to exist. Not to mention make our country a target for things that would make 9/11 look like a toddler playing with Legos. But - onto a "sunnier" topic. I LOVE RECIPES. Not that I cook them. I just like reading them. And dreaming about cooking them. HAHAHAHAHA!!!! OK - back to folding laundry.

posted by Subvervia 2:14:00 PM

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