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6:23 p.m. - Friday, Oct. 28, 2005
GGMI, still singing at 100!

GGMI at her 100th Birthday Bash

We all miss you, Grandma!!

2:23 p.m. - Friday, Oct. 28, 2005
She's prefers wine to water, just like Jesus- excerpt repost
Great-Grandma Ida has passed away today. At one hundred and one years old, she lived the fullest life one could ever hope for. For the most part, she was the happiest, healthiest, and most loved person in our family.

And rightfully so!

Below is an excerpt of my blog from Christmas 2003. I thought it appropriate to repost it now.

... then there is Great-Grandma Ida [ggmi for short]. "Hi Ida!"

She's awesome. Ninety-nine years old, and still kickin' it old school. She's prefers wine to water, just like Jesus. She eats Milano cookies like they're going out of style,... again. Like my brother-in-law JohnPaulGeorgeRingo is fond of saying, "She parties like it's 1899."

There are three things that Great-Grandma Ida will always remember:

(1) Her brother Tony married an Irish woman. Mae Duffy was her name. Irish Mae Duffy. She was lovely;

(2) Her mother passed away during their trip back to the old country, and her father eventually remarried. Her name was Anna-Maria (ahn ah mah reeh yah [insert essential italian hand motions here]). She was lovely; and

(3) are you Fanny-Pack? is there a Fanny-Pack? {forlorn and sullen glance} I know a Fanny-Pack. (Fanny-Pack is a euphemism for Eve's ex)

Even though we keep telling her that Fanny-Pack was killed in a freak Dirigible accident, which brings about a gasp, she just won't give up the ghost.

"No Grandma, I'm not Fanny-Pack. Fanny-pack died. I'm Mofo. Long-haired Mofo. The one with the kooky eye-ring." I gesture along with my words.

Then I play to her discerning sensibilities. "I'm Norwegian Mofo, ya'know, Long-haired, Norwegian Mofo. Kinda like Tony's Irish Mae Duffy," Trying to make the cultural connection, "I'm Metal Eve's Norwegian Mofo." A glimmer of recognition in her eyes, then "You're related to Mae Duffy?"


"No, Grandma Ida. I'm your great-grandson-in-law. I'm married to Metal Eve, your great-granddaughter. We had this same conversation last time, when I brought you those bags of Milano cookies." A stronger glimmer of recognition. But it's hollow and I know it. Hell, half the time she thinks that Evie is Aunt Susan.

Milano cookies she knows. Mae Duffy she knows. Fanny-Pack she knows.

Mofo, not so much.

I don't fault her for it. Every time she meets me and finds out that I'm not Fanny-Pack, I become a new person to her, and everything is new all over again. That's not so bad actually. She's cool in all other respects. She sings her heart out, inadvertently makes us laugh our collective asses off with her remembered stories about her youth and imaginary trips abroad.

Grandma Mildred told Evie that Great-Grandma Ida kept talking about her trip to Japan, and because she had not ever actually been to Japan, Grandma M got all worried. Evie was all like, "She's freakin' ninety-nine years old. If she wants to remember her trip to Japan, let her freakin' remember it, for pete sake. It's probably the best trip she ever freakin' went on."

She's the life of the party, and that's as it should be. She remembers all this great stuff about her past, it's just all the new stuff she has a hard time jellin' with. She's going to be one hundred in July. Fuck all, she gets a free pass.

I equate it to the film Memento, "Have I ever told you about my condition?"

I will miss you Ida. Rest in Peace.

9:23 a.m. - Wednesday, Oct. 26, 2005
Apparently, Books are no longer a valid category.
According to Variety, Neil Gaiman's Stardust is coming to the big screen.

Paramount is in final negotiations with Brit filmmaker Matthew Vaughn ("Layer Cake") to direct and produce his adaptation of Neil Gaiman's adult fairy tale "Stardust." Vaughn penned the script with writing partner Jane Goldman.
This is my favorite one of all his novels, and while I'm excited that it was chosen to being adapted, it also makes me feel a bit sad.

It, at first, seemed difficult to understand exactly why, but in essence, when I first read this book, it enveloped my imagination. The story, however unlikely, is charming, and penned so expertly and convincingly by Neil, that it allowed me to see it in a way that only a small number of books ever have. Mary Stewart's The Crystal Cave, William Goldman's The Princess Bride and Clive Barker's Imajica come to mind.

This might seem selfish, but I don't want my imaginings of this book to become compromised by some lame Hollywood adaptation. Additionally, now I feel that unless I petition the world to read this book before the film is released, that many great imaginations will lose their chance to envision it for themselves, and the thought of this (to me) is a literary tragedy.

The least I can do now is tell you four who read these words to go, GO and read this book at your earliest convenience, before your are shown some inadequate attempt at realizing it in a mere two dimensions.

...Sebastian, only you can name the Princess...

7:23 p.m. - Monday, Oct. 24, 2005
Full in 60 seconds
The first thing I ate were two greek olives and an ice-cold stalk of celery. I followed that with a carrot stick, a radish half, and a few servings of a pickled beets/chick pea/onion mixture. Next, I had the house salad with bleu cheese dressing, of course, and a half a slice of crusted bread.

For the main course, I had broiled bluefish stuffed with crab-meat (fuck yeah!!), spinach au gratin (cheese, glorious cheese), and a baked potato! This meal wasn't just good, it was cathartic.

How could I pass up the idea of having desert, and if you know me at all, you know how much I love me some Carrot Cake, Oh! Yes! This time 'round I went full steam into decadence, and ordered it with a scoop of vanilla on the side.

I savored every bite of every bit of food, and imagined its entire journey through my completely empty self, like me at nine a.m. in a Disney theme-park.

All is right with the world again.

4:23 p.m. - Monday, Oct. 24, 2005
All's well that ends...
Hour fortysomething: As my doctor had suspected, it was merely a mild irritation/inflammation, and other than that slight incident of anal rape, I'm going to be just fine. Yay!

Now that I've been given this clean slate, literally and figuratively, I have the opportunity to begin my diet again, properly. And that is exactly what I intend to do.

So, right after we get out of Eve's doctor's appointment at five, we are going to our favorite local restaurant, where I am going to order a baked fish (possibly salmon or halibut) entree with steamed veggies and a starch, and from now on I am keeping my food intake real, people!

I feel so much better knowing that everything is all good with me. And I'm sending out a huge virtual hug to everyone who has been there for me, with their kind words and concern.

You're all great friends! Thanks!

12:23 p.m. - Monday, Oct. 24, 2005
The Chronicles of Malnurishia
Thirty-eight hours in-- I can now have clear control over my hallucinations, and food has ceased to become the driving force in my though process. I'm closing in on vision-quest. When I get there, I'll ask where Kevin's check is.


5:23 a.m. - Monday, Oct. 24, 2005
This is gettin' sirius
I just had my second batch of the stuff. GAWWWDS!!! Can they make it taste any more like the ass it's about to shoot back out of? I think not!

Let me tell you something, my stomach is so empty, it's about to collapse in on itself and form a new star!

10:23 p.m. - Sunday, Oct. 23, 2005
Fixin' a hole
Thanks a lot, everyone. I really appreciated all of your concern. I'm sure I'll be fine. I'm just hungry as heck, dizzy as hell, and got a groaning in my gullet that sounds like Godzilla!

But I'm watching an 'Abbott & Costello meets various monsters' marathon on TCM, with my wife, that totally rocks, so it's all good!

7:23 p.m. - Sunday, Oct. 23, 2005
After eighteen hours without food, I just had to take the 'stuff' to scour my insides.

AWwwwghhrrrrr, gaaakkk!!!!

It was like drinking the inside of a breast implant!

I feel sick.

1:23 p.m. - Sunday, Oct. 23, 2005
Fast, not so furious
As I enter hour fifteen of my forty-four hour fast, I'm holding up well, thanks largely to the fact that I gorged myself like a mosquito on a fat hemophiliac yesterday in preparation.

Thanks Jenny!!

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