A storm is coming! Will it be all snow, a mix or. . .?

Whatever it is, it's going to definitely be a pain in the ass getting to work. When I issued a gigantic sneeze before, I was accused of laying the groundwork for calling in sick tomorrow in anticipation of the snowstorm. Years ago, my office mates knew if the weather was treacherous, I would not come to work. Now, I'm braver, or perhaps dumber. I don't know which. I have "special" brakes and traction control, and frankly, I doubt either would help me if I REALLY started skidding badly.

When it snows, I drive slowly, carefully, and try to avoid the big fucking assholes in SUV's who think they were born under lucky stars and can do any damn thing they please. I've seen the twisted wreckage of SUV's after accidents, and the people inside them were just as dead as those inside small, medium or large cars. Defensive driving means anticipating the assholic driving of those around you. When someone sluices past me and sloshes ice and snow all over my windshield, I wish them an evil end because they are thinking of no one but themselves.

End of rant. If you live on Long Island, be careful tomorrow. I'm getting weather warnings in my e-mail inbox by the dozens, and it's scary. This sounds like the icy roads kind of mess that leads to accidents if we're not careful, so let's be especially vigilant.

I'm tired of the cold.

I wish I were going to California on Sunday with Dan and Brad.

I wish even more I were going to the warm island Connie's going to with her family on Saturday!

I wish I were less afraid to pet Bugsy for fear of being bitten. Sometimes, I look into his sightless eyes and say, over and over, "I LOVE you, Bugsy!" but fear he has no idea what I'm trying to tell him.

I wish I wasn't in pain all the time.

I wish I didn't have so many damn wishes!

I wish you love and peace and all that other mushy stuff.

Love, Robin

They're calling for snow, perhaps even substantial snow, on Wednesday. If it happens, that means our purchase of a snowblower, which has thus far staved off any major snowfall, has failed. You have to admit, though, it's already the middle of February, which isn't bad. It's winter, and it's been bitching cold for a long time--without more than a snow flurry or two. So if it does snow, please don't send me any nasty e-mails. We did our part; we purchased a snowblower. Usually, when Dan and I do something, like buy a lottery ticket, you can be sure it's a loser. If we go to a ball game, our team will lose. If we buy a snowblower, it will never be used. Get the idea? It almost always works, but there's never a guarantee!

It was a regular weekend--we went to our gym (and worked out so hard, we were holding each other up at the end of our workout like a couple of drunken sailors), ate breakfast and dinners out, treated Brad to restaurant meals, shopped at National Wholesale Liquidators, etc.

Yesterday, however, was a Big Day. Why? you ask. Saturday, at Circuit City, we bought Dan a two-gig MP3 player because he wanted one that held more songs than his 512 MB did. While there, we got an incredible tip: they were expecting a shipment of Nintendo Wii's Sunday morning!

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!

This is what Dan has been waiting for since the beginning of November, 2006! Not since I announced my pregnancy has a man anticipated anything with more excitement and pleasure!

We needed a game plan. There were hundreds of questions to be answered: What time was he going to begin waiting? 6 AM? 7 AM? Earlier? It was so fucking cold outside; would his 55 year old body survive standing in those frigid temperatures without succumbing to hypothermia? Also, there had been some ugly incidents at shopping centers over this game console; once he got his Wii, if, indeed, he did, would someone stick a knife or gun in his face, demand his Wii and make off with it? Would Dan refuse to relinquish it and suffer injury or even death? Would I have to go identify his body and suffer the embarrassment of being the wife of such a stupid man?

Yes, there were so many questions.

Sunday morning, Dan left to wait on line at Circuit City at 8 AM. I had to run to Hicksville to pick up some diabetes supplies I'd gotten through Freecycle, so the intrepid Wii hunter was on his own. I did try to reach Dan on his cell phone, but immediately got his voice mail. "Damn!" I muttered to myself. "Why didn't he turn on his phone?" I left him a snarly message to let me know how long the line was and if he wanted anything.

Luckily, the house I Mapquested was easy to find and the lady there gave me a bag filled with lots of diabetes stuff I could spread around to those in need.

On my way home, I again called Dan on his cell, which he had finally turned on. "I left you a message at home," he said jauntily. "I'm not at home," I said, "I went to pick up a Freecycle item." "I'm fourth on line!" he exulted. "Excellent!" I said. "I'll bring coffee."

I stopped at home to drop off the diabetes stuff (upsetting Bugsy and Snaps, who hoped Mom was home to play), which included insulin that couldn't be exposed to below 32 degrees, went through McDonald's drive-thru for two cups of gourmet coffee, parked by Circuit City and headed for the line of about 20 people waiting to buy the precious Wii. "Hot coffee, $25 a cup!" I quipped, heading toward the store. It was 9:35 AM, and the store was due to open at 10:00.

I have to give someone credit for keeping things straight and proper. The first man in line had a clipboard listing the names of everyone waiting in line--in order of appearance. Dan was shmoozing with everyone on line, all game geeks like himself, having a grand time. I could see how happy he was--he was getting his beloved Wii, finally, finally, finally!

One poor kid had sandals on his feet in the 17 degree temps. One man wisely brought a chair and blanket. Some were smoking (ewwww)! People drove past, asking what we were waiting for. As it turned out, there were only 20 units coming in, so the guy with the clipboard kept careful track of the number of names he had on his list. Toys R Us, across the street, had a shipment of Wii's, too, but they were only offering a more expensive "bundle" that included potentially unwanted extra games, not just the console, which is what Circuit City was selling.

When the doors opened at precisely 10 AM, store personnel had everyone come into the store vestibule (but not necessarily in from the cold) and brought in three people at a time to purchase the Wii. Dan, #4, beamed as he accepted his game console, and I think I can say with certainty that the last time I saw him that ecstatic was the say he slipped my wedding ring on my finger--or the day he held our baby for the first time.

Those things that are hardest won are most appreciated. --Robin

Love, Robin

I was planning on going home to nap with Bugsy and Snaps, but now I have to stop by my doctor's office to pick up some prescriptions instead. Poops! Since I was charged a ridiculous co-pay of $120 the last time I got Lipitor (my HMO deleted it from their formulary all of a sudden), I asked for a cheaper substitute, so she's putting me on Vytorin instead. Will it work the same? I have no idea. My overall cholesterol was 163 the last time it was tested, which I know is excellent. If it costs less, that's fine. It pisses me off how everyone is stuffing their hands in my bank account, stealing anything they can!

I'm thinking we should challenge our tax assessment, too. My husband and I are two blue collar workers making blue collar salaries. Why do those assholes think we're rich? I'm scared to see my next oil bill. . .my next electric bill. I read an article yesterday that they're going to cut New Jersey's taxes. That will never happen here in New York, and I'll tell you why--the greedy politician's might lose some of the bucks they're using to line their pockets. I bet if we investigated, we'd find every single one of them is on the take in one form or other, every congressperson, councilperson, senator, president--every fucking one of them! No wonder they can't cut our taxes--we're lining too many pockets!

OK, that's my diatribe for today.

One of the best gifts my husband gave me recently was the DVR cable box. It has a hard drive inside upon which I can "tape" TV shows. Previosuly, I had four VCR's that I raced around from room to room setting up. Sometimes I screwed up and ran out of tape or, in my haste, input the wrong hours. That meant I completely missed getting the program, which sent me into a tantrum witnessed only by the spiders in the basement. I hope they enjoyed it!

The DVR has its limitations. If two programs are on at the same time, you can only tape them if no one else wants to watch something on a third station. So if there are three programs I want to see, I still sometimes have to rely on one of my VCR's. It's rare, but I'm glad I still have them around to depend on.

Factoids about me:

I have a huge space between my big toes and second toes. And the second toes are actually taller than the big toes. I have no idea what it means, but I think my feet are scary-weird.

I believe aliens live amongst us and have taken on human form. Several of them are friends of my husband.

I own the Harry Potter books but haven't read any of them all the way through. I prefer the movies.

When I left the hospital with my baby son, I couldn't believe they were actually trusting me to take him home. I kept expecting the Baby Police to snatch him away from me as we were leaving. REALLY!

I hate cottage cheese, but mix it with canteloupe and I LOVE it!

I can do the Mr. Spock "Live long and prosper" sign with my right hand but not my left. I am left-handed.

I have been on two cruises and think it's the best form of travel. If all goes well, I hope we'll be going again in August.

Have a fabulous weekend, Merry Blogsters!

Love, Robin

My boss requires us to answer the phone, "Thank you for calling blank department, Robin speaking, how may I help you?"

It's a long, ridiculous speech, and given that I answer the phone at least 50-100 times in a day, a lot of words to spew. Sometimes, people at the other end of the line give me a break and interrupt me before I get all the words out, saving me from having to say the full speech. I'm often asked if I get tired of repeating it.

Shit, yeah!

But it's what my boss wants, and even though I despise the man with every molecule inside me, he's my manager and I figure since I wish him dead at least once daily, the least I can do is answer the phone the way he wants me to.

It's less cold today. I believe we might have reached 30. I may wear my bikini this afternoon. Considering the temps lately, that's positively balmy.

I'm jealous of Connie, Dan and Brad. In less than two weeks, they're going someplace warm on vacation. I'm not. It's not fair. I'm mentally stamping my feet right now.

Yesterday, I stopped at my gym for half an hour of exercise. I was rowing away, sweating, eyes closed, concentrating on the music, engrossed in one of my lurid, evil fantasies when I became aware someone was nearby. I opened my eyes to find Barbara, the gym's manager, standing with her face just a few inches from mine. She started laughing. "Wow, I've never seen anyone so into a workout! Where WERE you?"

Still rowing furiously, I smiled, but felt somewhat violated, as if she had caught me masturbating. I had been so engrossed in the music, the exercise, the fantasy--why did she have to drag me back to reality? What I wanted to say was, "I was sandwiched naked between Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles--do you mind getting the fuck out of my threesome?"

What I actually replied, out of breath from all the imaginary humping, was, "No where. . .just really. . .getting into. . .my workout."

She laughed some more and started to walk away. "Oh, Barbara," I called, stopping my rowing for a few moments. "The light in the handicapped ladies' shower stall is STILL out and has been for at least a month. The pool is still not warm enough. The display in the other rowing machine still isn't working. The waxer in treadmill number 12 needs refilling. The. . ."

Barbara hurried away, vowing, I'm sure, never to interrupt my spirited humping with Jensen and Jared ever again. "OK, boys," I murmured in my head, giving a hard tug on the oars, "the banging may commence."

And to the spirited sounds of "Bad Touch," ("you and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals, let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel"), we did.

Love, Robin

At 6 PM yesterday, I was on my cell phone with Brad, trying to find out if he was meeting us at Sidekicks for two-fer Tuesday. The house went dark and I got a burst of static from my cell phone, which then went silent.

Seconds later, the lights went back on. Dan and I exchanged "What the fuck?" looks. "Must have been a power surge," I said. The cable box was re-booting itself, and I wondered if the TV shows I'd set to DVR had been wiped out or saved.

Dan and I collected our pre-dinner pills, then piled into his car, cursing the still-icy weather. As we were pulling down the driveway, we spotted Brad heading down the street. Dan stopped and rolled down his window to find out why he'd come home. "Sidekicks is dark," Brad announced. Figuring our lights had just come back on and theirs must have, too, we urged Brad to park his car and join us in ours, which he did. When we arrived in town, we found police cars and fire trucks heading down Park Blvd., Sidekicks still dark (with angry, hungry patrons inside), and us with a decision to make.

Dan needed to stop at the corner stationery store to buy a lottery ticket, which immediately pissed off Brad, who was starving and just wanted to eat. He lamented leaving his own car at home: "I could have gone to the next restaurant, gotten us bread and salad, instead of sitting here doing nothing," he complained. Brad still has a thing about wasting time. I tried without success to calm him down. Dan, meanwhile, had done something to break the mechanism in his seatbelt and was bitching about that. All I wanted to do was find an alternate place to dine and get home to watch HOUSE on TV.

We drove past Ardito's, which was either closed for good or due to the blackout, we weren't sure. Brad directed Dan to a backroads way to our regular diner. Once there, we settled down gratefully to eat. I ate a bagel with lox and cream cheese, Brad ordered eggs and corned beef hash, Dan had beef goulash, a dish he usually orders from the Kosher deli and loves, but did not enjoy at the diner. He left most of it over and refused to take it home. I, on the other hand, took home quite a bit of leftover lox, cream cheese, onions, tomatoes and lettuce. I can make another meal or two when I buy a couple more bagels.

As we headed to our car, I saw a familiar face: the friend I took a chance and called last Saturday, my former neighbor, going into the diner as we were leaving. She greeted me with friendly enthusiasm, to my surprise, and I did the same. My first impulse was to give her a hug, but it was cold and all of us were in a hurry. Plus, I was feeling so awkward, and she was with her cousin. She didn't mention my phone call, or say anything about getting in touch. It was just so strange that I had just gotten in touch with her after such a long time of not speaking, and there she was!

More weird things happened as we were driving home. We found the light at the corner of Park and Clark out. Sidekicks was still in the dark. After we made our right turn, the next stoplight blinked out just before we got to it. The same thing happened at our corner, where we make the left to turn down our block. To our dismay, our street was pitch black, not a street light or house lights--inside or out--anywhere. We had lost power again!

"Oh, no!" Dan moaned. "I won't be able to see AMERICAN IDOL--or Paula!"

"Get your priorities straight!" lectured Brad. "I have work to do--grading my kids' mid-terms."

"I don't want to miss HOUSE! Or GILMORE GIRLS! Or VERONICA MARS!" I protested. "This is one of my favorite TV nights, and I'm not even going to be able to get my stuff on DVR!" Then I remembered the real tragedy of all this. "WE'RE GOING TO HAVE NO HEAT, GENIUSES!"

So we left on our coats, hats and gloves, lit candles, fought over the one working flashlight (note to self: buy more flashlights), pet the dogs (Bugsy didn't care, he's already blind) and cursed the darkness and lack of TV. Keyspan, our power company, told us in a recording on our cell phone to expect power back by 10 PM.

Then, miraculously, at 8:02, power was restored! Dan got to watch Paula Abdul's always-peculiar behavior on AMERICAN IDOL, I watched most of HOUSE (fell asleep about 2/3 of the way through, but got it on DVR, thank God), and all was right with the world. I checked today's Newsday and there's nothing about the cause of all this, but I'm sure it was just a glitch of some kind and nothing to worry about. And I'm also sure if there's some way to pass on the cost of fixing it to us, Keyspan will find a way to do so.

Hope your day is filled with light of some kind, especially sunshine of the soul.

Love, Robin