Lately I've been having issues sleeping.

Right now it's 5:14am and I can't get to bed. And what's even worse than insomnia is insomnia and the internet. I'll see "Receive a FREE 40GB iPod - Just fill out this survey!" and think "I could totally do that." So I click past all the questions it tries to get me to look at (Are you a Smoker & Age 21+? Enter to Win a Flat Screen TV worth $5,000! Do You or a Loved One have Diabetes? Want a FREE blood glucose meter? Earn Your Degree ONLINE in As Little as 10 Months! Bachelor's or Master's - FREE Info! Tap into the world of GUINNESSï½®! Enjoy the latest ads, downloads, and hot-off-the-presses updates!) but then realize that I do actually have to apply for some offers. After thinking "maybe if I just click past more stuff" I realize that I'm not getting my iPod anytime soon. The fact that I was momentarily fooled makes me feel like an idiot.

Then I somehow ended up at HotPockets.com and found myself reading Hot Pockets FAQ. "What questions could people possibly ask about Hot Pockets?" I found myself wondering. "How many flavors of HOT POCKETSï½® brand stuffed sandwiches flavors are there?" you may be asking yourself right now. "There 22 delicious HOT POCKETSï½® brand stuffed sandwiches. Try a new one today! " Hot Pockets will tell you. What about "Can the crisping sleeve be re-used?" Hot Pockets says "We do not recommend that the sleeve be reused because it was not designed as a permanent container." Well shit.

I then thought, "Hmm, I wonder if there's a Josh.com?" Well wonder no more! There is. And all it has are the words "Josh.com is much cooler than Chris.com" Of course I had to visit Chris.com and be the judge of that for myself. And true enough, even though Chris.com has more than eight words, and several pictures, and all those other things, Josh.com is cooler. Chris.com is some dork whose website says things like "If you're as sad as I am about the death of Jam Master Jay, see my tribute page. Otherwise, enjoy the rest of the site!" What a tool.

I really need to get some sleep.

The other night Micah and I were watching the Simpsons. It was the episode where Bart, Nelson, Ralph, and that nerdy kid join the Pre-Teen Braves (a boyscout-esque Indian group). Homer is their "chief".

Homer: I will now give each of you your specially selected tribal names. (he holds out a jar with pieces of paper in it) Pick one.
Nelson: (picks a piece of paper and reads it) I am burger with fries. Man is that uninspired.

Thanks a lot Nelson.

Yesterday I was in line at the Jewel, buying some food supplies for the bar. Among the many items were two large bottles of lemon juice. In line ahead of me was a middle aged man and his 9 year old son who was clearly annoying him. When the father had had enough the son turned to me.

Kid: Wow, you must really like lemon juice.
Me: Not really. It's just for work.
Kid: Oh. (not bothering to ask where I work that requires lemon juice) 'Cause if you drank all that that'd be bad.
Me: Yeah.
Kid: And if I drank all that, it'd be so sour, and my face would get all smooshed up and I'd look like I was 100!
Me: You probably would.
Kid: But I'd still be eating my taffy apple...I mean, affy tapple, see? (he holds up his taffy apple, covered in M&Ms)
Me: Yeah, that looks good.
Kid: Yeah. But that's a lot of lemon juice.

Kids are so weird.

Several nights ago I was talking to my mom on the phone, making plans to come out to the suburbs for Thanksgiving. "Well I'll call you later and tell you the train schedule," I said. "Oh," she replied, "I'll be gone." I couldn't tell what I heard in her voice, but it was odd. "You'll be gone?" I asked. "Well it's Ed (her boyfriend) and my second anniversary. So we're spending the night at Sybaris." I was speechless. I had no speech. Sybaris? My mother? "Well that's...something," I responded. "Yeah," she said. "I've never heard of it, but everyone sounds weird when I mention it." Yeah. Yeah, they'll do that.

That night at work I made the mistake of telling Kami and Dan about this. "Sybaris?!" they said. "That place with the heart-shaped hot tubs and those velvet satin sheets?" "How can the same sheets be both velvet and satin?" I asked. "Well," Dan explained, "they start off as a velvet sheet and a satin sheet but with all the stuff they're doin' there they just kinda get pushed into one and-" "Okay, okay, I get it," I said. Clearly everyone knew about Sybaris except for my mother.

Then last night at Thanksgiving dinner it was brought up again. "Yeah, it was real nice," Ed said. He went on to explain that there were lots of mirrors and silver. I immediately asked, "Didn't you say that you had wine?" "Really relaxing." Ed went on. I excused myself to the kitchen and opened up a bottle of Shiraz. When I returned my mom was telling me that the place had been recommended to her by her friend Jeri, who was an ex-girlfriend of my grandfather. This also meant that she was in her 80's. Yet another mental imagine I didn't need it my head. I quickly downed my glass of wine and poured another.

This is why I avoid going home for the holidays.

The other night Bernadette was telling me about seeing a homeless person at the local gyro place and feeling bad that her biggest worries are finishing a term paper and which new sofa to buy. I didn't share her compassion.

Bern: Don't you feel bad?
Me: Well kinda, but I mean, I do my part.
Bern: Like what?
Me: Well, I give to homeless people on the street sometimes. Or...oh: Didn't we give money to that food thing?
Bern: What food thing?
Me: That pantry whatever.
Bern: No, I think we were going to but we didn't.
Me: (pause) Oh. I thought we did. Um. Well what about those green boxes that we put our old clothes in.
Bern: I don't think those are for homeless people.
Me: Really?
Bern: Or at least people have got to pay for them.
Me: No kidding. Hmm.
(There is a pause and we both sit there for a second)
Me: Well...forget that.
Bern: Yeah.

Several months ago a new publishing house opened up under the name Too Far. Their first book, a novel called Wild Animus by Rich Shapero, had a huge marketing campaign and hundreds of free advance copies were handed out on the street in downtown Chicago. I happened to pick up a copy, and I leafed through it (I wasn't about to read the whole thing), and felt the need to share a few excerpts with you. Enjoy.

She was limp, weeping against his chest, clinging to him like a beaten child. It had become terrible to her, but it was still love, and it was all she had.

"I'm a woman fighting for a place in a man's world," she said, looking up, speaking stiffly to the group. "I've battled in the field and in faculty committees, and proven I'm man enough for both." She faced Ransom, regret softening her defiance. "I thought that was what I wanted, but it's not." Hank sighed. "I'm unmarried and childless," Katherine said. "Not even the birds give me joy." She gazed before her, at no one. "Their freedom reminds me of what I hoped for and how short I've fallen."

I don't think I need to give any more examples from a book that takes place in Alaska or something on Mount Wrangell with a guy named Ransom. I think you can pretty much guess the rest of the book.

The other day Kel posted a rather disturbing comment on my blog:

"To add to the general mass melting-pot-ness capitalist (?)conglomerization of America, my friends and i are participating in a Chrismakkuh gift exchange..."

I talked to her shortly after I read the comment.

Me: Kel, Chrismakkuh? I'm saddened. I mean, WTF?
Kel: (laughing)
Me: I mean really.
Kel: It's just a group of fifteen of us doing it.
Me: And is anyone in those fifteen Jewish?
Kel: (pause) No.
Me: That's what I thought. So then why do it?
Kel: It's funny.
Me: Do you think us Jews feel left out? Trust me, we don't. Please, leave us out if what we're missing is Chrismakkuh.
Kel: Oh josh
Me: That's right.
Kel: You're just jealous you didn't have the word before you wrote the blog title. That's all this is really about.
Me: Oh yeah. You've figured me out Kel. Jealousy. That's what it's all about. Grr! Jealous anger.
Kel: (pause) And this is going to be your next blog, isn't it?

This is why I don't like the holidays.

On several occasions Natalie has threatened me with physical violence. Once or twice I've even received a slap or a punch. But last night, well...last night I'm still recovering from.

I was just behind the bar as usual, tending it up, when my chin came onto the receiving end of what of Natalie's martini shakers. "Oh my god!" Natalie yelled, and for once after injuring someone her tone had a hint of concern in it. I grabbed my chin and leaned against the sink, trying to catch my bearings. "I'm so sorry," Natalie said. "Are you alright?" And while I could have milked Natalie's compassion - a rarity, I assure you - I decided to be honest and tell her I was fine, and not to worry about it.

And while I think that my overbite has increased a little bit (due to my chin being thrust up and in) and a tiny bump has developed on my chin (hidden nicely by my facial hair) I'm doing okay. I just wince a little bit now every time someone starts shaking a martini too close to my face.

Last night at work several people from the Bank One across the street came into Kit Kat. Now let me preface the rest of this blog by saying that I bank at that Bank One. I make my deposits there. I deal with these people on a regular basis. They're my bankers. So when they came into Kit Kat last night (or early evening, as I suppose it was only 6:30 when they started drinking) it was kind of a guilty pleasure to see them getting drunk. One woman was singing along with the music, a man was swaying as he walked to the bathroom. They were getting loud and giggly. There was just something kind of wrong and fun about watching strict, professional bank people that I trust with my money getting goofy and trashed.

It's the simple things in life.

The other day I was over at North End and Billy was talking about Christmas decorations they would be putting up. He made a special point to tell me about other decorations that they'll be putting up.

Billy: And we'll be putting up Hanukkah decorations for Christmas too.
Me: I'm sorry, you'll be putting up Hanukkah decorations for what?!
Billy: (starts laughing) I mean, for Hanukkah.
Me: Yeah, that's right.

Stupid gentiles.

Last night four women came into the bar, sitting at the corner and ordering drinks. One of them happened to have a box of Girl Scout cookies. "Would you like a Girl Scout cookie?" she asked. I eyed her suspiciously. "What kind?" I asked. "Thin Mint," she said. Oh! Well! Thin mint! No competing with that. I agreed.

Her and her friends drank, they closed their tab, and two of them left. The remaining two (one of them being the Girl Scout cookie woman) ordered two more drinks. "We'll just take the tab," she said as she finished her last sip. "I've got a proposition for you," I said. "If you give me some of those Girl Scout cookies I'll buy these two drinks for you." What can I say? I hadn't eaten since 3:00, and you know that Girl Scout cookies only come out once a year. "Ooh, yeah, I'd be up for that," she said, clearly liking the idea of giving me cookies rather than paying.

In the end I got about 10 cookies out of the deal, and a real monetary tip. Oh how I wish that Girl Scout cookies could count as currency in the real world.

The past three nights all I've been able to dream about is work.

Night 1: I dream that Edward and Ramesh (the owners of Kit Kat) open up a Kit Kat in Transylvania (the irony of that location only hitting me just now as I write this blog). They open it in a small village with no free houses and are forced to kill an old man and take his house to live in. Unfortunately the dead guy haunts the house as Edward and Ramesh move into it. Scariness ensues.

Night 2: I take an impromptu trip to Tokyo, forgetting to tell anyone I work with that I'm gone. Subsequently I get calls about every half hour from work asking, "Where are you?" "Oh um, I uh, I'm in Tokyo." Then they'd say I needed to order something or take care of something so I'd say, "Alright well, um, I'll be right back, hold on." And then I'd fly back home, take care of whatever needed taking care of, and then fly back to Tokyo. This kept happening a lot.

Night 3: Edward and Ramesh are throwing a party at their house and for some reason I need to paint their walls and make cheese and crackers. I'm supposed to work that night at Kit Kat but they insist that I can just not show up and it'll be fine. Also, Ramesh and I are both wearing polo shirts, only his is black and mine is pink.

I think I need a vacation.

Yesterday in the mail Bernadette and I got the PETsMART Gift Catalog. In it are lots of sad/weird pet gifts, announcing to the world, "I love my animals more than humans!" Fine, whatever. But I took issue with this one item in the catalog.






If that doesn't scream beastiality, I don't know what does.

Am I really in the wrong for liking spooning, or am I just one step ahead of the trends?

According to media sources like ABC News and GQ Cuddling Parties are the hot new trend in New York. The parties include groups of people who, from what I understand, just lay around hugging and spooning. Of course, it's not a free for all. There are very strict cuddling rules which are to be enforced by the "Cuddle Life Guard on Duty" or "Cuddle Caddy". The list of rules are as follows:

1. Pajamas stay on the whole time.
2. No SEX. (Yep, you read that right.)
3. Ask for permission to kiss or nuzzle anyone. Make sure you can handle getting a no before you invite or request anyone to cuddle or kiss.
4. If you're a yes, say yes. If you're a no, say no.
5. If you're a maybe, say NO.
6. You are encouraged to change your mind from a yes to a no, no to a yes anytime you want.
7. NO DRY HUMPING!
8. Communicate, communicate, communicate.
9. If you're in a relationship, communicate and set your boundaries and agreements BEFORE you go to the Cuddle Party. Don't re-negotiate those agreements/boundaries during the Cuddle Party. (Trust us on this one.)
10. Get your Cuddle Life Guard On Duty or Cuddle Caddy if there's a concern, problem, or question or should you feel unsafe or need assistance with anything during the Cuddle Party.
11. Crying and giggling are both welcomed and encouraged.
12. Outside of your personal relationships, it's nobody's business who you cuddle, so please be respectful of other people's privacy when sharing with the outside world about Cuddle Parties.
13. Arrive on time.
14. Be hygienically savvy.
15. Clean up after yourself.
16. Always say thank you and practice good Cuddle

Of course you can find out more about cuddle paries at (where else?!) Cuddle Party.com, and hear all about how cuddle parties are really just a way for people to improve their intimacy and interpersonal skills, and make everyone feel just a little bit better about themselves and kinda fuzzy inside.

Or, as Frank said to me when I was telling him about this, "Just an excuse for fat chicks to snuggle up with really hot guys." I'm probably gonna have to agree with Frank on this one.

Bernadette and I currently rent a house, so neighbors aren't the same as when you live in an apartment building. This isn't necessarily better or worse. Yesterday, people moved in. I was talking to Brad about it last night when he visited me at work.

Me: So people moved in next door.
Brad: Uh huh.
Me: And they're old.
Brad: Uh huh.
Me: I don't know how I feel about that.
Brad: Well are you really noisy or something?
Me: Well I don't feel that I'm noisy, but who knows how two old people are gonna feel about that.
Brad: Well maybe you should try and get things off on the right foot with them. Then they'll like you. You can hang out, they'll bake you some cookies.
Me: No. They're not that kind of old people. They're moving into a million dollar house in Lincoln Park.
Brad: Ah.
Me: They had two moving trucks delivering antique furniture. They drive a Mercedes.
Brad: Oh.
Me: So as much as I'd like to go over there and hear about their grandchildren while they serve me milk and cookies and continue to knit mittens and watch "their stories" I don't think that's gonna happen. They seem like the kind of old people that throw parties and are on the board of things. Not mom and pop.

It is now day two of moving and moving trucks are still outside. I'll keep you all up to date.

Sitting across from me yesterday on the el was a young Asian girl making faces and taking pictures of herself with her camera cell phone. She'd make some shy, sly smile and take the picture, the viewfinder at the perfect angle for me to see it; pictures just ripe for Friendster. Then she'd turn the camera around, look at her picture and take another one. It's bad enough seeing those types of pictures of Friendster, but it was even more painful to see the process of making them.

Oh technology.

Last night Bernadette was going to change the ink cartridge on our printer, but the thing inside the printer that holds the cartridges would slide out for easy access.

Bernadette: Maybe if I turn in off and on that'll work. 'Cause it slides out then. (she presses the on/off button)
Me: Don't do that. There's not enough time to get the old one out and the new one in.
Bern: Sure there is.
Me: No, it's too quick.
Bern: Not for a ninja.
Me: Ninjas don't change printer cartridges.
Bern: This ninja does! (the thing holding the cartridges slides out and Bern takes out the old one and puts in the new one). Look at that: Ninja quick.
Me: You're not a ninja!
Bern: I could be!

There's no telling where this ninja kick will go. Sigh.

Here in Chicago there was a radio station on 100.3 that played hits of the 80's and 90's, mostly smooth adult contemporary stuff, and you couldn't go an entire night without hearing several Rod Stewart or Phil Collins songs. It was that type of station. Sadly, that format is preferable over what 100.3 has become.

Sometime last week, quietly and in the middle of the night (the way these types of things always seem to happen), 100.3 became WILV, LoveFM. The station plays love songs 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. That's a lot of love.

Unlike the former 100.3, the bad songs aren't even ones you know. You could secretly sing along to Steve Winwood or whoever did that song that goes "Don't leave me this way, I can't survive, without your sweet love, blah blah blah." LoveFM plays weird obscure love songs from the likes of Al Jarreau, and that sappy song that goes "If you don't know me by now, you will blah blah blah." I don't know about you, but I can't sing along to that.

My question, and I think the appropriate question here, is why an entire radio station needs to be devoted to love. They don't even have a DJ to play the love songs (love songs! eww!), they just have a little jingle that announces "Love, love love. One hundred point three, love eff-emm!" in between some of the songs. Because evidently love doesn't need a DJ.

Perhaps I'm bitter. Or perhaps LoveFM is providing a valuable (although sappy) service by trying to help fight bitterness. I quote High Fidelity by Nick Hornby (the book, not the movie, not that there's much of a difference): "People worry about kids playing with guns and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands - literally thousands - of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss." Why there's not a radio station specializing in those types of songs I'm not sure. God knows they're a lot more catchy than the love songs.

Kel has a theory that blogs-as-books will be the next literary craze, like memoirs or chick lit.

Me: Kinda like Bridget Jones' Diary, but real life.
Kel: But not like reality TV.
Me: No, of course not.

Not only is this a Kel theory, but she has made this her "brilliant idea" to help her get accepted into a summer publishing course at Columbia University. Of course, to go along with her "brilliant idea" she'd need to use a brilliant blog. For that purpose mine would do just fine.

Kel: This idea is brilliant Josh.
Me: Well, anything with my blog in it would have to be brilliant.

Which is not to say that it's not a good idea on it's own. But look at whatsherface that I blogged about a while back who had her blogs published into a book. She was just stupid.

Oh Kel, I just hope you can pull it off.

Last night at work there was a couple at the end of the bar, slow dancing with each other during one of Tracy's performances, and sometimes kissing.

Me: That straight couple at the end of the bar makes me sick.
Frank: Straight couple? He looks gay and she looks like a lesbian.
Me: (laughing) That's true.
Frank: They look like they both were part of some Christian program that turns people straight.
Me: Like they used to be gay but they found the way?
Frank: Yeah, they've been turned straight.
Me: "Yay! We're straight now and so much happier. We love it! Wahoo!"
Frank: Yeah.
(pause)
Me: But you know that secretly they both want to go home and have her put on a strap-on.

I mean...what can you say on a day like this? Four more years?

In honor of election day I thought I would post some of my favorite blogs about W. Enjoy. And then go vote Kerry.

2.9.2004

Bush has done a lot for our country. He gave us the Western White House. He gave the press nicknames ("Stretch" for David Gregory from NBC, "Panchito" for Frank Bruni from the New York Times, and "Dulce" for Candy Crowly from CNN, among others). He even gave world leaders nicknames (sadly, I'm not kidding that Russian President Vladimir Putin earned "Pootie Poot", the BBC reported). And he ruined the country's budget surplus, getting the National Debt Clock turned back on again. The National Debt Clock, put up in Midtown Manhattan as a political message in the 80's was turned off in 2000 as the government ran a surplus. But thanks to President Bush the Debt Clock is up and running again.

As of 11:48 am today the national debt was $7,018,440,785,677.81

Dubya, keep up the good work!

(as of today, November 2nd, the national debt was at 7,450,092,226,025.05, up about 432 billion since February of earlier this year when this post was originally made)

3.7.2004

If only every page of a magazine were as entertaining as the back page.

Today, the back page from February's GQ: Possible campaign slogans for Dubya's re-election (or as some believe, election).

*Reviving the economy to where it had already been.
*Osama: We'll find him, we swear. Vote Bush.
*Oh, what's a few million jobs lost?
*No regime change here! Bush '04.
*The environment is for pussies. Bush for president.
*Hey, don't forget that check for $600 we sent you "for working families" in 2001! Bush '04.
*The man who got us into this mess is the only man who can get us out of it.
*Keep W. employed.
*Bush: This time he wants to win fair and square.
*A dangerous man for a dangerous world!

3.10.2004

Today, on CNN.com, an overview is given on the attacks and criticism facing Bush in his election campaign.

"From the left, Bush gets hit by the Media Fund, which is spending almost $5.1 million to air a new ad throwing everything at the president but the kitchen sink -- job losses, tax cuts, health care, special interests and corporate corruption."

Am I the only one amused by the thought of someone throwing a kitchen sink at Dubya? I didn't think so.

8.4.2004

Today Bernadette and I were at the gym and CNN was on. John Kerry was on the TV talking about something and Bern said "He looks tired."

Me: Well of course he looks tired. He's been campaigning for months straight.
Bern: I guess.
Me: I think it's a good thing. All tired looking.
Bern: I just can't look at Bush or Kerry and think: I want either of these men being my president.
Me: Look at Clinton! By the middle of his second term he had huge bags under his eyes. In less that five years his hair had gone from black to white. That's the kind of president I want. A guy who's stressed out. Who doesn't sleep.
Bern: You want a president that looks like crap.
Me: At least you'd know he's working hard!
Bern: Maybe if he develops a nervous tick.
Me: That's what I'm talking about! That's a guy I'd vote for!

9.14.2004

Several random presidential tidbits from the September issue of Details magazine:

*November 1844 - James K. Polk is elected president. His opponent's slogan was "Who is James K. Polk?"

*November 1868 - Ulyssess S. Grant is arrested for speeding speeding on his horse and fined $20.

*November 1900 - McKinley is re-elected with the slogan "A full dinner pail."

*April 28th, 1947 - Truman puts a bowling alley in the White House.

*Sometime in the 1960 - Lydon Johnsons's lover dumps him, reportedly because she was opposed to the Vietnam War.

*August 11th, 1984 - Reagan accidently quips on air, "We begin bombing Russia in five minutes."

*January 8th, 1992 - George Bush pukes on the Japanese prime minister during a state dinner in Tokyo.

*January 13th, 2002 - George W. Bush chokes on a pretzel while watching a football game and bruises his cheek.

Earlier today Brett and I were talking about the computer game Sim Tower.

Brett: I love Sim Tower. I just wish there was a more up to date version.
Me: Yeah.
Brett: Maybe there is?
Me: I don't think so. They poured all their money into The Sims. They said "Fuck Sim Tower. (pause) And Sim Town. And Sim Farm. And Sim Jungle. And Sim Copter. And all our other cacamamie sim games!"
Brett: See, I can't believe that The Sims sold. I can't own a tower. That's why i play Sim Tower. I can walk my fucking dog and take a shower as much as I want!
Me: Indeed you can.
Brett: I just don't get it.
Me: Maybe its because you can make other people do stuff. I don't know, like a power thing. "Yeah, I'm gonna make that guy steal the neighbors wife and then go to the bathroom for the 13th time today."

Oh Sims. You're so addictive.