On the way home from work today, I got caught in a huge traffic snarl two blocks from my building. It turns out that there was a car in flames in the parking ramp that’s connected to the building. I couldn’t even get into the ramp and had to park on the street and walk home. Just another adventure in city living.
With my recent computer expenses, I might have to reevaluate my planned trip to London in the spring. But maybe I’ll get lucky and get a big tax refund. Another possibility is to visit my friend in Boston. She’s a resident at Massachusetts General and she’s also the most brilliant woman I know. Can any Bostonians recommend a good time of year to visit?

I love football, but I hate most football announcers. Especially the ex-jocks whose alleged duty is to provide “color” commentary. Said “color” usually consists of painfully obvious remarks about the game or some lame attempt to engage in verbal repartee with the real announcer. Do we really need two announcers anyway? The guys who work in radio are far less obnoxious. I think they have a better understanding that people are interested in the game, not the braying of a former player.
I have a love of classic science fiction films from the 40s and 50s, so I think I’ll pick up the new DVD version of The Thing from Another World. The dialogue in this movie is sort of proto-Tarantino; rapid-fire and sarcastic.
For those of you who are curious, the cause of my computer calamity was a combination of poor case ventilation and dust build-up. That is something that will definitely be addressed when I do my rebuild.

My computer is in the shop as I type this. If I’m lucky, I’ll get it back tonight or tomorrow. Must…fight…withdrawal. Shaking…uncontrollably. To make matters worse, my cable connection was down last night and I was forced to connect to the Internet on a dial-up connection on my sister’s notebook. Oh, the horror!

I have a new mission in life. I need to find a way to get to know my Extremely Cute Neighbor. I thought Extremely Cute Neighbor had moved out because I hadn’t seen her in some time, but then I ran into her as I was leaving for work this morning. She is a simply lovely brunette. Maybe I can borrow a cup of sugar or something. But that might not work if she stumbles across this blog and discovers that my crippled ass don’t cook…or bake. I could try chatting her up in the elevator, but how much chatting can you do on a thirty-second elevator ride? My engaging personality needs at least a full minute to work its mojo. What to do? Any advice is welcome.
I spent way too much time today clearing up a bureaucratic snafu that almost prevented my independent nursing staff from getting their first paychecks, which would have been rather embarrassing for me. I’m pretty protective of my staff and I’d hate to see any of them suffer financially because someone forgot to fax a certain document. So here’s hoping I finally have all the bugs worked out of the system.

I woke up this morning feeling feverish and a little nauseous. I don’t think think m coming down with anything, but I kind of wasted the whole day away because I didn’t feel like doing much, not even write. Feeling better now and I should be back at work tomorrow.
Someone e-mailed me and asked me what I thought of the MDA Telethon, which just ended a few hours ago. To be honest, I try not to give it much thought. Believe it or not, I was dragged out on display for a couple telethons back when I was a kid. I remember being kissed on the cheek by a cute local news personality and thinking that I was the shit. But by the time I was a teenager I realized how exploitative Jerry Lewis and the MDA really is. Every year they bring out some cute kid who is nothing more than a tool used to play on Joe and Jane Schmoe’s pity for the poor crippled children. Even the local newspaper gets invited to the pity party; just look at this article that appeared in today’s Minneapolis paper. I understand that pity is a natural reaction upon seeing someone with a disability, but it is a reaction borne out of ignorance and a reluctance to understand what a person with a disability really experiences on a daily basis. I don’t need pity. Mr. Lewis has said that if people like me don’t want pity, we should stay home. The idiocy of this statement just reflects the arrogance and condescension inherent in the whole telethon culture. And I’m suspicious about where all that money goes. Private charities have their place, but I’d prefer that everyone pay fifty more dollars in taxes a year to ensure that everyone with a disability has access to the services they need without feeling compelled to kiss the ass of some has-been actor with a Messiah complex.
Aren’t you glad you asked?