Gina's RantSpot

Okay, so I'm having a bit of link retardation this week. In case anyone's confused, my site address is http://www.ginabarge.com. I know . . . it's such a difficult address to remember, right? But you'd be amazed.

I'm up earlier than normal because a) Ellie decided she was hungry and b) I need to do some much needed yard work. I also plan to be one of those kooks that goes to Home Depot really early in the morning. Here's my bet . . . even though it's slightly after 7:00 right now, and it will not yet be 8:00 am when I get to Home Depot, SOMEONE will be buying a hotdog and a soda from the little hotdog stand that's right inside the entrance. My mother, who hates tools, plants and all things Home Depot, will occasionally ask to come with me JUST so that she can get a hotdog (another datapoint to add to my adoption theory). Someone is always jonesing for one of those hot dogs, and -- here's a harrowing admission -- whenever I pass by and smell the aroma of that steaming nondescript encased "meat," even I think they smell good. This is saying a lot given that I haven't eaten red meat in over 15 years, and have always had a fear of hotdogs. I'm not even sure if hotdog is one word or two! I wonder what they put in them.

Another bout of procrastination, but this time it's a true rant:

I saw Stepford Wives recently, and I've been thinking about something. Has anyone else noticed this . . . once people have kids, they seem to forget what it's like not to have any? A lot of my friends are having kids these days, and it's interesting to see the transition.

Most have them have made a frightening shift from city people who did nighttime activities and were repulsed by the sound of crying to . . . deaf parents who no longer understand - or care to understand - the lives of their single and/or childless friends. It's almost as if, all of a sudden, their memory banks have been wiped away and all they know is their current life of sleepless nights, vomit and pooping. It's almost as if someone has been tampering with their brains.

Granted, some of my friends have remained normal (before said friends become offended), but a whole host of others have become their own picture of uber parents, and they don't understand why taking 20 minutes to free junior from the car seat is a bit perturbing.

AND, even though they themselves were squeamish about holding babies before having their own, they can't understand why you (the childless you) isn't overly (or even remotely) excited about holding their kid. I almost want to scream - "Don't you get it??!! I don't want to hold your child because a few bad things could happen. A -- I could drop him, and forever be blamed for Mergatroid's brain damage, or B -- he could spit up or pee on me, and (repeat A)."

OR, they come over with the little angel -- to my home, which is glass/lit candle/white sheepskin rug/unpredicatable animal-infested, and wonder why I'm so uneasy and telling them not to touch things or grab the cats (one of which is smart enough to hide, and the other of which is very old, and normally extremely sweet, BUT can become crotchety and hissy when her tail is being yanked by a dangerous little person. I'd bite too, given the situation). This would be because all of their animals have either been traumatized or shuttled away to the shelter, and their expensive, fragile items have already been ruined, or packed away until little Mergatroid turns 18 and (God willing) moves out of their house.

I could go on, but you get the point. Someone's gotta be feeling me on this. (And no, I didn't have a visit from a child today, in case you're all wondering.)

My mind is blank right now, which is probably due to the fact that I'm paralyzed by the amount of work I have to do. I don't know where to start, so I'm doing anything I can to procrastinate. This morning, blogging is the distraction, although, since my mind is a blank, this might be one of my less edgy rants. In fact, it won't be a rant at all.

Anyone who reads this probably knows that my father is a professional saxophone player, among other things musical. He's actually a really good one. He recently did a couple of solos on my friend Chuck's album, and Chuck posted a lovely picture that I took, and even gave me a plug for my site. (You have to scroll down to the second pic) Ain't he sweet? :-)

More procrastination later . . .

First of all, GO PISTONS! Did I call it or what?

Tonight, I was at a Celebrity Cookoff event with my friend Tonya, who's a news anchor on CLTV in Chicago.

I decided to sit at her table to watch her do her thing (and heckle her), and I got into a conversation with the other people at the table. The subject of Jennifer Lopez came up, and we started taking bets on how long her marriage to Mark Anthony would last. I, personally, think she has a life clause that states that any of her marriages will end before one year has passed.

Dan, to my left, said that J. Lo has a strict religious upbringing and is opposed to premarital sex, which is why she marries so many men. Yes, he was kidding, although I was impressed that he delivered that bit of sarcasm with a completely straight face.

Laurie M., the vivacious woman to my right, theorized that Mark Anthony is gay. I arbitrarily pointed out that he weighs about 85 pounds -- not that his status as a lightweight should have anything to do with his sexuality. Laurie jumped in and gave my favorite quote of the night -- "Exactly!! Who's 85 pounds and not gay?" I couldn't stop laughing. I still can't. (Laurie -- I told you I was going to write about this! Don't be embarassed)

Oh and by the way . . . the Lakers are going down on Tuesday. That's my prediction!

If you're a Chicagoan and frequently drive down Michigan avenue, I'm sure you've noticed the picket line in front of the Congress Hotel. This isn't a new thing -- those people have been picketing for what seems like a year -- if not more. Every single day, in any kind of weather, those ruffled employees have been marching back and forth, carrying signs that I can't quite make out when I'm zooming by. I think I knew at one point, but now I can't remember what the original issue was. Something to do with wages, I'm sure, but I don't recall the specifics.

At the beginning of the protest, there was a large, rowdy group of picketers, and now, there's the lethargic handful that look like they want to sit down most of the time.

Okay, so here's my question -- if you've been picketing for a long time, and management is making no move toward appeasing you, the hotel seems to be running optimally without you AND customers are merely stepping through and around your line to enter the hotel anyway, at what point do you admit defeat, get another job, put the sign down, and move on? Not to be insensitive but, really . . . how long can it go on, and who are those picketers hurting but themselves? Sure, it's an inconvenience for the hotel to have disgruntled ex-employees protesting, but the picketers won't deter guests who need lodging.

I can't help but think they should release and let go . . . but that's just my opinion.