My mom doesn't "get"
I concede she's not crazy beautiful like Scarlett Johansson.
Then again, maybe better to be the girl next door.
Girls like that grow up to be doctors, veterinarians, or radio talk show hosts.
Joan Cusack is perfect as John's administrator in this film.
How do you imagine Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners in the Cusack household?
I like Minnie.
Sometimes you just have to go British.
This brings to mind again Natalie.
Most critical eyes don't consider her very pretty.
They would be wrong then, wouldn't they?
Have you been listening to this? So rich.
"Operation CHAOS!"
Join the ranks of republicans everywhere voting for Hillary, just to keep the Dems in turmoil while Bill gets irritated at West Virginia crowd rowdies.
Please don't let it end. This is better than "General Hospital."
I usually listen to Jim Rome, sports guy, 11AM-2PM during lunch (not that whole time), running home to check on Emerson. But this is a dim time for sports. No football. Who cares about a bunch of pituitary cases stuffing basketballs down a hoop?
Golf, baseball - where every game is so meaningful.
So I've been chuckling at Rush.
Speaking of sports, however, I've got to be one here and give credit where Russian currency is due.
Elena Dementieva.
Yes, she's demented.
She beat our lovable Ana yesterday.
Elena is the kind of girl who just shows up year after year, spoiling everyone's good time, possibly a derivative of her name could be a password.
Never take your eye off the ball.
Worst serve in the history of the game.
I've always kind of liked Elena, even if she looks gawky.
We tend to feel sorry for world-class athletes who stumble into umpire chairs.
Move along.
These aren't the droids you're looking for.
Here's what I'm looking for:
I can't see a damn thing this morning.
Just moved up to 1.25 magnification power.
It would be humbling if I didn't brag about it.
I wonder what movie I should rip off next and upload to .mac gallery?
They are going to find out, you know.
And YOU are all complicit by clicking, watching the juggler, Anne Heche, et al.
Did I mention I burnt out my vacuum cleaner last weekend?
True.
In a fit of zealous conscientiousness, I was working my way up the stairs, sucking dog hair left and right - and it died with a bitter, acrid smoke and smell.
I should have known better than to try.
Until my next house-cleaning attempt, we'll always have Edith Keeler.
Dear friends,
A very loud and large drill is grating through concrete and destroying my former flower bed.
It was "sorta" a flower bed with incipent strawberry plants, now dead.
They are like the Huns, marching into my backyard, insect killers.
Murderers.
I walked out, "STOP! STOP! DON'T CUT MY INTERNET CABLE!"
The swath of their disregard for my connection to life measured in inches.
Lose me and love me forever, bullshit. If they cut the cable, I'm going insane.
If they allow me the honor of not screwing up out there in the backyard, I give you Sonya's speech from "Uncle Vanya," more precisely Brooke Smith from "Vanya on 42nd' Street."
Yes, same girl who was trapped in the well in "Silence of the Lambs."
This guy's name is Michael Moschen.
Dude is amazing.
<<<------ Click the pic
Inspires me to not take a header next trip down the stairs.
For all you geometry teachers out there, check out "Triangle."
---------------------------------------->>>
Who amongst you has not chosen a four year-old photo on eharmony?
We all look better in soft flash light.
Gimme a break. Just had a cancer operation.
They buzzed all sorts of places, please.
I'm doing fine. Got visit next week back to hospital so they can coo over my ears, the only part of me that sticks out now with any grace.
Oncologist says, "no radiation or chemo can help you. Live on."
Right on. Back to familiar environs, where blog man throws me treats and synchs Macbook Pro with .iMac against the other mac. He's like, apple-brainwashed.
Tell him to stop with the iMovie reprises, like the Anne Heche deal. Everything was fine right up until then.
Key lesson in life pups and kitties: be docile to humans and they feed you or make appointments with wonderful veterinarians. That's gospel.
Emerson's tumor is/was an extremely rare myxo-sarcoma in a kidney, hardly to be found in medical literature and sure to be a case study.
Not open to chemo or radiation therapy. One is simply left with hope that the removal of the organ got all the spiderweb-like cells, then monitor with ultra-sounds every three months.
I can't thank enough the orchestra of professional support for saving the little guy, and well-wishes from family and friends through a very sudden and trying time.
And Emerson is obviously back on his afternoon clock, watching for the car a good hour before it rounds the corner.
Now back to what you expect of me at start of major tennis time:
Ana's been quiet lately.
But she wins. A lot.
Won again yesterday in Berlin. Getting ready for Rome and Paris end of the month.
They live better than I did at twenty.
As for iMovie experiments, next on the stack, possibly scenes from
Just a note for everyone checking in.
Thanks so much for your empathy, concern, and well-wishes.
The little guy was released to me yesterday. He's weak and tender, all black and blue underneath, but only in mild, general discomfort. Trick is to gently carry him around and keep him from trying to walk too much or do stairs or ramp.
He's eating a little and slept fairly well last night. I kept checking to see if he was breathing.
It is good news he survived the physical trauma of major surgery. Of course, the biopsy is still to come, etc. One step at a time.
I had to get back to work today, but checked him on the Emerson cam. His head is in a soft Elizabethan collar, so snapshots every two minutes show him moving his bonnet around.
Wild flights of fancy, creative or otherwise, on hold here for a while. Have a good week out there.
"Thank You for Being a Friend"<--- MP3 (Andrew Gold)
Emerson is a real trooper.
He refuses to leave me yet.
"I dare you, cancer."
As I write you Sunday morning, my brave little Papillon continues to recover from a life-saving operation Friday.
We discovered Wednesday a tumor the size of summer sausage in his body cavity, compressing organs, mere days away from ending his life.
You would think you would know, but you don't. His sluggish behavior drove me to make a vet visit on the day I broke a tooth, and I almost put it off.
"Mr. Creech, we have a serious problem here."
The startling discovery spun action and emergency admittance to the best care possible in Houston.
Risky operation. No choice, despite age and heart condition. We went in Wednesday for the battery of tests, ultra-sounds, radiology, "aspiration of cells." Surgeons too busy Thursday with even more dire emergencies.
Finally Friday at 1:25PM, one last stroke of his head and murmur formed goodbye, then left it up to a power greater than myself.
He survived.
Emerson avoided going into that good night, before either of us were ready, due to the knowledge, skill, and care of Suzanne L. Hunter, D.V.M., veterinary surgeon of Gulf Coast Veterinary Specialists.
A host of support, certainly, including Dr. Rebecca Wolf.
They saved his life. How many people do you know who literally save lives?
It comes down to someone who can safely extract a tumor from a living being on an operating table.
And you know it too, when you meet them. These people occupy a stratosphere of human achievement that springs not from tape-delaying "General Hospital" on their DVR.
I really thought I might have seen the end of a thirteen-year companionship after the pre-operation visit, because dude had little chance going under anesthesia with his heart condition, and the extent of the tumor was not precisely known.
When they called my name, I braced myself to walk into the little room.
But through prayers, hope, science, kindness, luck - this woman I will be forever grateful to strode in and with no delay said, "Mr. Creech, he's fine and came through just great."
Emerson is in intensive care through the weekend. I can take him home Monday morning. Biopsy to come. Kidney cancer called "renal carcinoma" most likely. I'm not a doctor after web-surfing, so I don't know what lies ahead.
What I do know is that I learned a lot about myself these past few days through sadness, grief, helplessness, abeyant consolation I was doing everything possible.
Such moments awaken a stirring, heightened awareness, memories forming as you are watching them from within and without at the same time.
I know I am more grateful and purposeful today than one naive week ago.
Future always through a glass darkly.
But my boy is coming home Monday.
Thank you,
Angelina wasn't a tease. I really like her.
But I know you girls wonder deep down the kind of woman who shatters Creechman's soul.
You would never have guessed it.
The video uploading to YouTube as I speak.
Continue to shake your common heads.
I'm traveling along a blog sin wave. What goes up, must come down.
Nadir Wednesday morning, with NO buyer's remorse for the MacBook Pro I ordered.
It's going to be great.
Meanwhile, remain inspired with wonder by the mysterious choices I make in the realm of female idolatry.
The photo below is from "Girl, Interrupted." I might make a video about that later.
It's too powerful for my current mood.
For now, simply accept a small tribute to Angelina Jolie's performance in "Playing by Heart."
This link points to the .Mac gallery version --->
The link below is good old reliable YouTube.
I wish I could speak clearly.
Little known fact about my intrepid voice. It doesn't carry.
Conference room cringe.
Keyboard slayer. Yep, that's me.
If the copywrite cops ask if you know me, or have anything to do with stripping DVD scenes onto the internet - claim ignorance.
I didn't mean to venture into a life of crime.
Just sort of happened.
My legions of fans are trying to prevent me from spending $3,000 on a MacBook Pro, but I want one and am willing to eat rice and beans for 18 months.
But rice isn't cheap anymore, so strike that.
Good morning world.
You're shocked, shocked I might be getting ready for work.
Yes, "work." You heard me.
No more iMovie experiments with My Super Ex Girlfriend, although my commentary was stellar.
No more Ferris Bueller richness.
It's all about helping the economy baby. All about the economy.
Furthermore, although tempted, I did NOT purchase a $4,000 MacBook Pro.
Still, it is sitting out there. Somewhere in China.
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