This is a simple column by a complex woman.  
Dumb-asses need not apply.
If you flatter yourself to be a bright spot in the universe
and aren't offended by "psychotic breaks," welcome.
If you're a little frightened, well, all the better.
We kinda like you like that... with hot sauce.



No, really, everything’s fine. Family’s ok. Both cars in order. Got the Christmas tree. Mom’s visiting next month. Same ole, same ole. 

Thanks for asking. 

A two-week stay at the Maui Marriott would be better. Just order some Buffalo Wings and Freedom fries from room service. Lounge beside the pool on one end, the beach on the other, strawberry daiquiri in one hand, trashy magazine in the other. Maybe a reunion with some friends from Aiea High School’s Newswriting Class, “Most Improved Newspaper in the State,” and all, James Ward with his Foil Man jokes and Cesar Cancio’s never-ending arsenal of insults. 

A bit of nostalgia, cool tradewinds, good times. 

Instead of ... this shit. 

I must’ve received five or six e-mails in a row calling me an asshole, comparing me to Satan (or someone very like him), daring me to a duel in upstate Chicago, because I dared dislike Melissa Archer’s bitchy, one-note bad acting of Natalie on OLTL. She still sucks ass, so fuck you. 

Then, there’s the battalion of GH’s S&C and Carly haters questioning my sanity for changing my previously critical tune about the beloved, popular, controversial, stage-hogging front-burner characters. Thanks for noticing my fair and balanced second look, ya fucked-up ingrates. 

And the legions of obsessed News & Gossip lurkers yelling at me about how meager the AMC spoilers are this week, how I don’t prominently display enough substantive bitching at ABC Daytime by burying the comments of veterans at the bottom of the page while headlining the comments of the co-head writers at the top (if I worked for the network, would I be here taking your abuse?), and not airing the grievances of another veteran, 

and, blah-fucking-blah. 

I’m also fighting the third case of a nasty cold bug in three months straight, this last introduced with a nice 24-hour bout with the stomach flu that had my husband vomiting bile and pissing shit from 4 a.m. to closing in after midnight on a near-continual basis, then me, then our toddler son (who, thankfully, only suffered for a handful of hours). I’d previously gone through the sore, itchy, phlegmy throat syndrome in September, leaving me with an inability to sleep through the night or really breathe deeply, not to mention the havoc wrecked upon my already compromised bowel system. 

While other victims may vomit bile and piss shit for a day, I’m pissing shit and feeling like vomiting bile for months thereafter, because I have IBS-D on top of two anal surgeries to fix a fistula that left me chronically, occasionally incontinent. 

So be glad you can just walk away bitching and moaning about your slight tummy ache. While I’m running to the nearest bathroom, or not, trying not to shit my pants, and often failing. And wondering if I can risk going to Costco for milk and diapers today... 

After reading and watching countless news reports on the latest virulent strain of the flu killing women, children and old people in random, epidemic, unpredictable strikes, or ... sensationalistic journalists trying to sell newspapers and ratings overblowing the effects of just another cold-and-flu season with inaccurate, exaggerated scare tactics, I wondered for the 50th time whether I should indeed insist, forcefully, to have my entire family vaccinated.

No matter what that lazy stupid fucked-up bitch at Bartell’s said a month earlier. 

Dutifully, I went over there with my son in tow, prepared to pay $40 for our flu shots, end of story. I’d just gotten off the phone with his pediatrician’s receptionist, who heartily recommended going. After all, if “The Seattle Times” thinks it’s of utmost importance, I better obey. The newspaper articles did repeat numerous times to inoculate “healthy children six months to two years old,” as well as any caretakers of such children. That means us! 

The Bartell’s drugstore pharmacist on duty literally cringed when she saw my 21-month-old son and connected him with my request for flu shots. 

“Oh no, we don’t give flu shots to young children.” 

“But the newspaper articles said—“ 

“His pediatrician would recommend and give the shot. They’d have to measure the dosage in parts. From what I understand only children at risk, with asthma, compromised immune systems... are getting the shots anyway.” 


I’m still reading the dire news reports to get that goddamned flu shot before my entire family is decimated instantaneously. After speaking on the phone with my best friend Jon, who lives downtown and works as an x-ray runner for Virginia Mason Hospital, who helpfully informed me of a recently aired interview of the tear-drenched father who lost his one-year-old son to this flu, chastising himself for not giving the baby a shot after all, and who naturally hasn’t had his flu shot yet  ... I’ve literally talked myself into believing I missed the boat and should’ve insisted on speaking to James’ pediatrician directly and DEMANDED him a flu shot, or all hell would break loose. 

Why Washington state’s movers and shakers aren’t organizing this flu shot campaign in a more organized, easy fashion, is beyond me. Maybe they want half the population to just keel over from “The Deadly Flu of 2003,” to save them some money. Budget crunch, y’know. 

They could make this so easy on everyone. Doctors could take it upon themselves to call or mail reminders – tucked in with the all-important list (missing in those news reports) of places to get the shots at – to all their patients. Force everybody to go to the nearby clinic or drugstore set up at every corner like a flu epidemic Starbucks. 

If this particular flu strain is so important, so deadly, why not? 

Why the casual attitude? Why pass the buck? Why doesn’t one hand know what the other is doing? What the hell was the receptionist and the pharmacist smoking? 

The least I can do is insist on talking to the nurse tomorrow, find out how and where I can get my son his flu shot, get mine, and incubate ourselves for 10 days to two weeks from the outside world. 

Just to be safe. 

Now, if I can only figure out how to filter out the assholes who have nothing better to do than take me to task over a measly opinion about a fictional soap opera...


"docked in tinsel"


“God blessed us all with gifts. Or... did He?” 

“cancer as aphrodisiac”

"you in the choir?"

"14 years"


"lake bluto"

"la lucci"

"heart's desire"

"rhythmic drops"

“AMC, kinda sorta maybe better”

“an audience of one” 

“add a real dose of reality-TV to soaps” 

“Bianca sucks, let’s rape her!”

"5 nuns"




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