what would become of the brewmeisters?

photograph by CBA

. . .not to mention bottle manufacturers, glass recyclers, bodega operators and etc. Just think what would happen to the jobless rate if I stopped drinking!

bear, bearing posies

First it was hyacinths. Then it was daffodils. He's always hanging around. He quit drinking and lost weight. Does he have hopes? Give me another beer. . .

st pats

I have the corned beef and cabbage. I have the beer—though my tastes in alcohol are catholic.
Alas, my background is Orange Irish. . .

fat tuesday

Actually, this is the reason I couldn't stop drinking yesterday:
Solidarity with my Brazilian friends at Carnival.

blond at the apollo

Appolling.

politically incorrect

This funny link showing classic photographs doctored to remove evidence of tobacco shows just how unacceptable smoking has become.
Next up: Dash that drink from your lips. Cheers!

nice town

MOUNT VERNON, Ohio (AP) — An Ohio science teacher accused of burning the image of a cross on students' arms has officially been fired.

The Mount Vernon school board voted 4-1 Monday night to accept a state hearing officer's recommendation to terminate John Freshwater. The Columbus Dispatch reports the firing took effect a few hours later, at midnight. Freshwater had appealed his earlier firing by the board. An internal investigation found he had preached Christian beliefs in class. He also was accused of using a scientific device to mark several students with a cross and of keeping a Bible on his desk. The hearing officer's report issued Friday said Freshwater sowed doubt and confusion in the minds of impressionable students.

nice town

Police: Pa. Man Stole Video Game From Boy's Casket

PITTSBURGH (AP) — State police are trying to find a Pennsylvania man who they say stole a hand-held video game system and accessories from the casket of a teen who had been killed in an SUV crash on Christmas Day. In the release, police say 38-year-old Jody Lynn Bennett, of Mentcle, grabbed the items from the casket of 17-year-old Bradley McCombs during a viewing Monday night at a Montgomery Township funeral home, about 65 miles northeast of Pittsburgh.
The funeral home director and McCombs' mother aren't commenting. The suspect's aunt, Dianna Bennett, says her family is friends with the McCombs and are mortified by the theft. She tells The Associated Press she hopes police catch Bennett soon.

the holidays

open bar season

nice town

COLUMBUS, Ohio (AP) — An Ohio woman who police say shot a relative to death amid a dispute over a skimpy Easter outfit has been sentenced to 18 years to life in prison. Forty-two-year-old Evelyn Burgess pleaded guilty in Columbus to murder in the April 4 death of 19-year-old Danielle Pickens, a cousin. Apologizing to family members, Burgess said saying "I'm sorry" could never fully express how she feels. Pickens wore jeans shorts to Burgess' home for Easter dinner. Prosecutors say Burgess became upset thinking the shorts were too short and that her husband was looking at them.

wah wah little GTO

Pontiac is no more, nor are those days of chugging beer and drag racing down 9A in my boyfriend's GTO.

all hallows

Five years ago on Halloween, the Wiccan New Year, I stopped smoking.
Boom.
Gone.
Done.
And this year?

no comments

So what am I doing this for, my health?
Oh, right. . .

the house of no regrets

You wanna smoke? Smoke.
You wanna drink? Drink.
You wanna take drugs? Go for it.
You wanna have sex with people you shouldn't be having sex with? Please do.
    Perhaps to counteract my puritanical streak, I have always prided myself on providing The House of No Regrets, aka a den of iniquity, for my friends and family. The hostess with the mostess. Excess is us.
    So, when I quit smoking, like five years ago on Halloween, and even after I could have become one of those annoying people who waves a hand in front of their face when someone nearby is smoking, I still allowed people to smoke in my house and tried to refrain from waving the hand. And when I do quit drinking, on those increasingly frequent occasions, I still offer people alcohol, if I have it around.
    Alas, I little like to be construed a prude.

the main reason why

I confess: I am a Becksaholic.
      Many of you have seen me with this bottle in my hand. At one point my daughter calculated how much money I spent on this beverage per year, but I don't even want to think about it.
      On the other hand, thanks to beer, I have not had recourse to analgesics, antidepressants, antianxiety medications, anesthesias, painkillers, cigarettes, marijuana, methamphetamines or frontal lobotomies (reference the old joke). Beer goes well with summer, books, conversation and music. Beer has made me tolerant, generous and more capable of going with the flow than nature intended.
      It has also made me stupid, forgetful, blunt and fat.
      I still like it, though, especially Becks.

contrariness*

Why I can't stop?
Too many people urging me to.

*aka pigheadedness

no hope

I am so sorry, my sad and desperate people, that I cannot provide the magic bolus that will prevent you from indulging in your most destructive habits.
Still searching myself. . .

a dream

A surf champion romanced me, then sat me down and gave me a magic elixir of fruit juices and sunflower seeds.
   "Drink this," he said, "and you will no longer want to drink."
   He put the glass in my hand.  "Go over to that garden and meditate while slowly sipping," he said.

   Why I can't stop: In the dream, I was smoking.

poor man's bloody mary

This is the third and last post about Bloody Marys, I promise. Yesterday, being Monday with no crossword puzzle (finished, alas), I succumbed to another good reason not to quit drinking. Known in Mexico as a michelada, the drink is made with very cold beer and additions like salt, lime, hot sauce and tomato juice. It is an excellent beverage on a hot day.
   OK, I admit it wasn't hot yesterday. This is how you know I should stop drinking.
   Lately, beer companies such as Anheuser- Busch have been marketing these drinks to Mexicans in the U.S. I have been able to find one product, called Chelada, which combines Bud with Clamato juice, in Missouri, Alabama and Rhode Island. There doesn't seem to be a big call for it on the Upper White Side of New York or on this isla pequinita. In fact, almost everyone I know thinks it is revolting. I mix my own.

heirloom tomatoes

This is my recipe for the best Bloody Mary ever. It is one of the best reasons I know to not stop drinking.
Take an heirloom tomato like a Brandywine or Cherokee Black and slice it up on a plate. Salt and pepper well and let macerate for a few hours. Pour off the tomato water into a glass and put it in the refrigerator. Eat the tomato.
At cocktail hour, mix the tomato water in a short glass with vodka and add a lot of ice. Garnish with basil if you like. You will like.

sunday times

It's always something. Check out my post the sunday papers from 2005, and just sub out "pour a Bloody Mary" for "light a cigarette." (Granted, I don't have the Metro and City sections here, but I do have high winds.) It seems I've just switched out addictions. What happens when there is no more Sunday New York Times newspaper? Then I'm left jonesing for the crossword?

nasty habits

This blog is about the obsession to keep doing something you know is bad for you and finding lame reasons to keep doing it. People call this addiction; I call it a pathetic lack of willpower.
When you're young, you believe you can keep smoking or drinking with impunity, but once you attain the age of reason—say, 40—you know this is not so. The cough won't quit, the metabolism can't keep up, and people you know have died from overindulgence.
Then you start with the "just one."
Right.
This is what happens next.

nice town

Prosecutors: Woman Stabbed Man Over Feet Insult
EVERETT, Wash. (AP) -- Prosecutors in Washington state say an 18-year-old woman stabbed a 19-year-old man for teasing her that her feet smelled.
The Herald of Everett reports the man was found by police with a steak knife sticking out of his back, buried a few inches in. His lung had collapsed. Officials say he'll recover.
Charging papers say trouble started when Dallas Amber Smith was drinking and hanging out with friends and was challenged to do a back flip. When she took off her shoes to do the back flip, the teasing started.

dear smokers

I can't believe that as of this Halloween it has been four or five years (I forget) since I did finally, after many failed attempts—like one every single morning—stop smoking.
I had forgotten what it was like when I used to smoke until I got bronchitis a couple weeks ago and realized that I used to wake myself up coughing all winter long like for 20 years.
There was always a reason why I couldn't stop smoking—some of the best of the rants are at the very beginning of this blog back in whenever.
And then I was done.
I was still smoking, but I no longer wished to.
So the next time I quit, I stayed quit.
Now there are other things I can't stop jonesing about. . .

just one more

You gotta love Van Nuys.

nice town

Oregon Man Get Probation for Stabbing Ex's Fish

PORTLAND, Ore. (AP) -- A Portland man who attacked his ex-girlfriend and impaled her pet fish this summer has been sentenced to two years probation, a psychological evaluation and community service. Donald Earl Fite III, 27, pleaded guilty Tuesday to animal abuse and domestic violence assault.

According to court records, Sarah Harris had broken up with Fite but returned to her Portland apartment July 25 to find him lying on her bed, saying he wanted to get back together.

When Harris tried to leave, Fite shoved her against a wall, grabbed her hair and tossed her against a bathtub.

Harris fled but returned with an officer to find her fish -- a bright purple betta named ''DeLorean'' -- on the wood floor with a knife through it.

According to court records, Fite quickly admitted killing the fish, telling police: ''If she can't have me, then she can't have the fish.''

Fite's attorney, Tom Macnair, said Tuesday that killing the fish was a ''very low point'' in his client's life.

''He is absolutely mortified and ashamed about what he did to the fish,'' MacNair said in Multnomah County Circuit Court. Fite, who had no previous criminal history, declined to make a statement.

Harris did not attend the hearing. In a phone interview with The Oregonian newspaper, she recalled crying hysterically when she saw the fish with a knife sticking through it.

''Donald bought the fish for me, and I'm sure he knew how much I cared for it,'' she said.

Betta fish, also known as Siamese fighting fish, are colorful freshwater aquarium fish that usually are between 2 and 3 inches long.

Prosecutor Eric Zimmerman told Judge Eric Bergstrom that Harris plans to get a memorial tattoo of the fish and wanted Fite to pay for it. Bergstrom, however, declined to make Fite pay restitution for the tattoo.

The judge ordered Fite to stay away from Harris, but said he could have contact with fish.

nice town

Pa. Man Fires Cannon, Hits Neighbor's House
(AP) -- A Pennsylvania history buff who recreates firearms from old wars accidentally fired a 2-pound cannonball through the wall of his neighbor's home. William Maser, 54, fired a cannonball Wednesday evening outside his home in Georges Township that ricocheted and hit a house 400 yards away. The cannonball, about two inches in diameter, smashed through a window and a wall before landing in a closet. Authorities said nobody was hurt.

State police charged Maser with reckless endangerment, criminal mischief and disorderly conduct.

No one answered the phone Friday at Maser's home. He told WPXI-TV recreating 19th century cannons is a longtime hobby. He said he is sorry and he will stop shooting them on his property, about 35 miles southeast of Pittsburgh.

the party's not over

I am still drinking. I am still not smoking.
For what else I'm doing, check out claudia's surf city.

no one home

Check out CSC for late-breaking agita.

what are They doing to my place?

summertime

azu, open

the shattered image

hiding out

not legal

tightrope walker

i will never b done in time

Two weeks today. My back hurts, my knees hurt, I am covered with white paint and I have only kind of finished two bedrooms. Well, OK, one bath also. And the floor of the other bath. One of the other baths. And there are a LOT of leaks. And no floor downstairs. And no heating system. And no C of O. And a lot of site work to do. And zero help. And rain predicted for the next week. And tenants arriving in two months.
Should I have a beer or just kill myself?

how true, how true

surfin' seagulls

They're catching the wave, and I'm not.
(click pic to enlarge)

living in one room

Why I can't stop: I have to hide out in the only warm space until it stops snowing.

high tide

It washed across the road on either side of my house—and it's comin' around again.

the morning before

The only trace of jet lag I have is that I want to eat dinner at breakfast time. Today I had steak for breakfast.
Why I can't stop jonesing: It's Sunday, so no beer with breakfast.

my new best friend

Harley Motorcycle Mama Betsy
Why I can't stop: She's headed up to Everest with Biff!

farewell party

When you have the kind of party where everyone winds up sleeping over—someone on the couch, on the areobed, in the guest room and even in my bed—you know it's not really the time for moderation.
Why I can't stop: It's almost always that kind of party

happy pagan fertility holiday

it's after 5:00 somewhere

And it's almost midnight in Kathmandu. . .

the schedule

Mammogram, gyn exam, dentist. I know, more than you need to know. But isn't it enough to drive one to some form of substance abuse? Especially with jet lag?

top o' the world to ye

I went, I saw, I upped, I downed.

not to mention the wheel

Shouldn't there have been a better evolutionary model than the knee?

to abuse or not to abuse

I'm actually not sure whether this photograph supports why I can't stop or why I MUST stop.

drive-thru daiqueris

New Orleans is not really a town for anyone with a jones for anything.

dinner for three

One described the other, memorably if inelegantly, as behaving like "a motheaten elk in rut." Oh brother. Pass me another Molsen. It's cold up here in single moose country.

a toast to pepito

"He was the last of the old timers," said Jimmy, when he called to tell me.
Pepito taught Jimmy, and all the other kids in Makaweli Valley how to hunt. They would saddle up their horses and mules (with plenty of Budweiser in the saddlebags), pick up their rifles and skinning knives, whistle to the two-score pig dogs, the trackers and the grabbers, and hele off "up the volcano, into the interior." There they would track the feral pigs and goats, packing out the meat several days later to smoke and eat and make luau. It was not an easy matter to kill an angry boar. One door of Pepito's shack has boar jaws nailed all over it, the tusks long and sharp.
Pepito lived in a shack in the middle of taro fields. You had to cross the Waimea River to get there, thread the dirt paths and make it through the pack of snarling, mangy, dogs and flies. "Get back here," Pepito would shout. "Cut that out." His shack was small, without electricity or running water, and it squatted over thousands of Louis L'Amour and other paperback westerns and war stories. Pepito sat in a lawn chair in the open, a cooler or three filled with ice and meat and beer nearby. He was a wild man in his youth, who once rode his mule into the local bar and ordered him a beer. By the time I was working in the bar, in the 70s, he had been barred.
But he settled down as the years passed. He graciously took me, my husband and in-laws on a pig hunt for Life magazine, mounting us and guiding us and instructing us for free. By the time I saw him for what I suspected would be the last time, three years ago, he had reluctantly given up the cigarettes and beer and was not hunting regularly any more. He tended the irrigation ditches in the taro fields, fed his bored hunting dogs, read his novels and entertained his frequent visitors with tolerance and grace.
Pepito was an ali'i, a chief, and a wise man. Mahalo for your counsel, Pepito. And much aloha for the aloha you shared with us.
Why I can't stop: I have to drink a Bud for Pepite.

first comes love, then comes

marriage. . .
and then you REALLY need substance abuse

problem of the day

Last night I dreamt that I was smoking. Cigarettes. Which I actually haven't in like a year and a half. Except in my dreams. So this morning when I woke up, I felt like having a martini. Or a sixer. Or smoking a pack of cigarettes. Or something. The sleet and hail and other forms of hard snow, driven by 30 mph winds, were rattling the windows. I rolled over and closed my eyes again so I could listen to it better. And when I finally got up, I settled for coffee.
Why I can't stop: The yen never goes away.

warning

This page to be reactivated soon. Or else possibly whatismyfuckingproblem. Frankly, I'm tiring of the PG thing. Life is way more interesting than that.

hmm

Actually, this was a very good site. I should probably come back to it at some point when I'm a trifle saner.

fyi

I probably won't be maintaining this site for a while. i haven't much to fuss about except building, and that's appearing on the other site. Later.

the weather

Why I can't stop: There's nothing you can do about it.

weddings

bird flu hits trailer park

Or maybe they're alcohol intolerant?

when will i see you again

the nice town department

PITTSBURGH (April 26) - Police found a dead dog dressed in blue jeans, a T-shirt, socks, tennis shoes and a baseball cap on the rear porch of a home on Monday in the Stanton Heights neighborhood. Police Lt. Kevin Kraus said the dog, apparently a boxer-pit bull mixed breed that neighbors said was named Pimpin', was dressed after it had been killed.
Police on Tuesday were trying to interview a woman who lived at the house where the dog was found. The dog's killer could face animal cruelty and drug charges.
Kraus found the dog, which he first thought was a person, while investigating an argument between two motorists nearby.
The Allegheny County Medical Examiner's office X-rayed the dog's body and determined that it had been bludgeoned and stabbed to death days earlier.

Why I can't stop: I have friends in that town.

ice

Why I can't stop drinking: The tinkling of the chandelier reminds me of ice cubes in a glass.

stormy weather

well under the yardarm

Why I can't stop drinking: Oops, it's beer thirty

where the money goes

Why I can't stop: Well, at least college is paid for. Cheers!

ship of fools

This is the boat that carries the workmen who need the supplies to build the house that's planned for this site if the stuff gets loaded onto the boat that carries supplies not to mention the cranes and the trucks and the brains, the mail and the money that goes in the bank, the gas at $80 the tank to carry the stuff from the boat to the site. . .
Why I can't stop drinking: my house of cards is built on ferry schedules.

memento mori

Why I can't stop: This is all that's left of Tristam Dodge's house, built about where mine is going.

cookouts

Why I can't stop drinking: Put another steak on the barbie, Babe.

egret egret

Why I can't stop drinking: I like seeing double.

cocktail hour

more guests

"Why are there two bottles of vodka?" The houseguest's daughter asked when she saw this picture. "Wait, she said, "Don't tll me. Mom bought the $5 bottle and Claudia had the Stoli in the freezer."
Bingo.
Why I can't stop drinking: I would be such a bad hostess.

a change of reasons

So this blog has been getting a little drab lately, and I have considered just dropping it altogether. Firstly, I haven't been feeling that cranky and secondly I did quit smoking like six months or so ago. The heart had gone out of it.
I have addictions and to spare, however, so I thought maybe I'd try revisiting a different one. Especially since my brother(and all these other workmen) are showing up, and I can't set a bad example for them. I am so not paying them to get crocked and fuzzy and cut off their fingers accidentally.
Anyway, my brother quit drinking like a decade ago.
Why I can't stop drinking: Soon I will have to knock off the brewskie.

sweet into salt

This body of water, since I saw it last fall, has cut through the bluff and spilled into the sea.
Why I can't stop: My pond spillith over

sundown at the last seder

guys and dogs

the new me

This is the secret blog, right? The one where I can vent? Do not be forwarding this to your friends and relations, as I still have hopes of erecting a building next month. But the fact is, I don't play nicely with authority figures. I am down to my last one, one who will pretty much control my life for the next six months.
"Just reassure him that you know he's the boss," my sister said.
"I'm not real good at subservience," I said.
"None of us are," she said, "but you must."
And so I wait, to see if my most recent attempt at obsequiousness was enough.
Why I can't stop: You are so big and strong, so smart and knowledgeable, so. . .manly

feels like fall

Why I can't stop: I have to turn in my book report

yet another guest dog

google this

Hello? Can you read the amount on this check? This is the amount I received from Google for the ads on both of my blogs for more a year. I'm trying to figure out how many microentavos that is a word or how many pixels per dollar, but I give up. Clearly I'm not in it for the money.
So the question on the floor is:
Has this blog run its course? Shall I bag the blog?

my little cabbage

Why I can't stop: Polish pride

another guest dog

Why i can't stop: And this one's wet and sandy.