So I know that I promised in my last post that I would attempt to update you and help wile away your hours with entertaining, non-ask related musings, so here we go. Actually this is not so much an update as a foreshadowing of an update.
There are some serious things afoot in JJ's World these days and I am bursting at the seems to share them with you. However, until I can actually iron out some details and spread the word in my actual, real life world, it's probably best to keep a lid on all secrets internet style.
With that said, keep on the look out for some possibly startling revelations to start poring out of this little blog I sorta keep up with here.
Cheers.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
I help not because I know you, but because someone I know asked me to
People give of themselves for a lot of reasons. You may give of your time, money, or material possessions because you believe in the cause you are supporting. Maybe you give because you simply believe in giving, and where it goes (as long as it falls under a certain wide spectrum of your beliefs) doesn't really matter. For me, I mostly give to things my friends are associated with (and it helps that I pretty much totally believe 100% in what they are working for). I don't have a lot to give so I like to spread it around to those I can personally touch with my donation.
But every once in awhile I find a cause or an event that I'm not tied to by one degree of separation. Awhile ago I donated to this blogger because I was so moved by her post. Didn't know her personally,though I found her blog through an actual real life friend who knows her in actual real life, but still went ahead and dropped my few dollars in the hat.
And so I bring you the following story. If it moves you in any way and you find yourself with an extra $5 or more to share I encourage you to donate it. I don't know this person, probably never will, but I do personally know the man that wrote about it on his own blog and I trust his opinions on the matter (plus his own name was in the donor list, so I know it's worthwhile). You won't get a tax exempt letter. But you will get an awesome warm feeling and a great bit of karma.
Oh and just so you don't start to feel that all I do is ask my few readers out there to open their pocket books, I promise to make an effort to post many non-money related items in the next few weeks before I once again hit you up for my own birthday fundraising campaign to be announced shortly.
I don't know how to repost so that it will link back to where I found it so I'm simply cutting and pasting and hoping this works....(photo didn't copy so here is link to what I think is the original post)
atfrageelay:
Link to help a mama-to-be out is here.
Imagine you are about to lose everything you own. Not to a tornado, flood, or theft, but instead to the steady march of insidious intruders. These home invaders breed quickly and often, can survive up to 18 months when zipped up in an airtight container, feed off of the blood of humans and their pets, and are especially fond of nesting in mattresses and book bindings.
Itchy yet?
Now imagine you’re single, expecting your first child, self-employed, with family living several states away. And you’re living in a building full of these thieves of your every basic comfort, where several of your neighbors are similarly afflicted but it’s unknown whether they have any earthly idea how to properly rid their apartments of these pests. Maybe you can break your lease, and maybe you can’t, but even so it’s doubtful you’ll see your security deposit and first month’s rent any time soon. And you’ll have to take all of your less-infested items – including electronics – and store them somewhere unafflicted in airtight containers for 18 months.
This is life in the city with bedbugs. And it’s happening, right now, to one of our own – Alina Smith. And she needs our help. There have been a lot of hands out asking for help in our online community lately, and times are tough for many right now. But there are enough of us here that a per-person $10 donation (or whatever you can spare) would go a long way toward helping Alina get a security deposit together so she can live somewhere bedbug-free when her baby arrives this October/November, storage space for the few items she’s able to keep (including her professional photography equipment) but will have to store in airtight plastic for 18 months to ensure all the bugs die off, and disposal supplies (plastic mattress covers, plastic bags) so she can get rid of items responsibly without spreading the bedbugs anywhere else. Please help a mama-to-be get her life back and into a safe home.
Thanks. Questions? Comments? Write me at tonitravels at the gee mail.
Here’s a link to contribute. All donations go directly to Alina’s bank account. Please reblog.
But every once in awhile I find a cause or an event that I'm not tied to by one degree of separation. Awhile ago I donated to this blogger because I was so moved by her post. Didn't know her personally,though I found her blog through an actual real life friend who knows her in actual real life, but still went ahead and dropped my few dollars in the hat.
And so I bring you the following story. If it moves you in any way and you find yourself with an extra $5 or more to share I encourage you to donate it. I don't know this person, probably never will, but I do personally know the man that wrote about it on his own blog and I trust his opinions on the matter (plus his own name was in the donor list, so I know it's worthwhile). You won't get a tax exempt letter. But you will get an awesome warm feeling and a great bit of karma.
Oh and just so you don't start to feel that all I do is ask my few readers out there to open their pocket books, I promise to make an effort to post many non-money related items in the next few weeks before I once again hit you up for my own birthday fundraising campaign to be announced shortly.
I don't know how to repost so that it will link back to where I found it so I'm simply cutting and pasting and hoping this works....(photo didn't copy so here is link to what I think is the original post)
atfrageelay:
Link to help a mama-to-be out is here.
Imagine you are about to lose everything you own. Not to a tornado, flood, or theft, but instead to the steady march of insidious intruders. These home invaders breed quickly and often, can survive up to 18 months when zipped up in an airtight container, feed off of the blood of humans and their pets, and are especially fond of nesting in mattresses and book bindings.
Itchy yet?
Now imagine you’re single, expecting your first child, self-employed, with family living several states away. And you’re living in a building full of these thieves of your every basic comfort, where several of your neighbors are similarly afflicted but it’s unknown whether they have any earthly idea how to properly rid their apartments of these pests. Maybe you can break your lease, and maybe you can’t, but even so it’s doubtful you’ll see your security deposit and first month’s rent any time soon. And you’ll have to take all of your less-infested items – including electronics – and store them somewhere unafflicted in airtight containers for 18 months.
This is life in the city with bedbugs. And it’s happening, right now, to one of our own – Alina Smith. And she needs our help. There have been a lot of hands out asking for help in our online community lately, and times are tough for many right now. But there are enough of us here that a per-person $10 donation (or whatever you can spare) would go a long way toward helping Alina get a security deposit together so she can live somewhere bedbug-free when her baby arrives this October/November, storage space for the few items she’s able to keep (including her professional photography equipment) but will have to store in airtight plastic for 18 months to ensure all the bugs die off, and disposal supplies (plastic mattress covers, plastic bags) so she can get rid of items responsibly without spreading the bedbugs anywhere else. Please help a mama-to-be get her life back and into a safe home.
Thanks. Questions? Comments? Write me at tonitravels at the gee mail.
Here’s a link to contribute. All donations go directly to Alina’s bank account. Please reblog.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Some weirdness to start your weekend
Before I share with you how my Friday morning started let me give you a few background details so the tale can truly be appreciated.
1) I. Hate. Pigeons. Completely, totally, and unrealistically I hate these birds. Everyone knows it. I'm not quiet about it. They are rats with wings and any argument that they are cousins of the dove and I should love them will quickly get you an icy glare of death.
2) Normally I change trains half way through my commute. It's faster but also more of a pain since I give up my guaranteed seat to stand on the smelly, dirty red line. But I do it because riding all the way around the loop on the Brown line seems silly when transferring means another 10 minutes of sleep.
3) Chicago has some cool ass art sometimes. And sometimes it's just weird.
Okay, got it? Here we go.
Today I woke up exceptionally early as I am leaving for a trip home at noon and found myself overcome with giddiness and unable to sleep. I decided that tossing and turning was doing no one any good so I got up, got going, and was on the train at least 20 minutes earlier than usual. This also means that I can stay on my train and read which always excites me. Plus, I'd heard about this new art instillation piece at the south end of the loop and staying on my train means I would get a chance to see it.
So I ride all the way around, check out the big eyeball, wonder at the concept of art and then eventually get off the train at Randolph and Wabash. For those of you that are Chicagoans, or more importantly, Loop workers, you may be familiar with this stop. Like it's neighbor Quincy across the loop it is home to a whole host of pigeons at the base of the stairs. Usually the roost a good span back (unlike Quincy where I think they are actually posted guard on that freaking station) and I can sneak along the wall and avoid them. But today, alas today, I would not be so lucky.
I come ambling off the steps and stop, just out of the way of others tumbling down behind me on their way to their own Friday plans, and light up my customary morning, post train - pre work cigarette. Yes, I have a scheduled, post train - pre work cigarette. What's life without some regularity?
Anyway, as I'm standing there this scene unfolds in front of me. A man, probably late 50's, maybe 60's, wearing somewhat business like attire and carrying a briefcase stops in front of the large writhing mass of birds. He sets down his briefcase and slowly starts to walk into the middle of the flock. At this point I already know he's crazy, and since I don't want to go anywhere near him, I hold back and wait to see what happens. Once in the middle of the mass, he slowly starts to crouch down. What the fuck is he doing? I begin to wonder (my coffee free brain is at this point still working kind of slow). Then, before I can even begin to comprehend he reaches out and grabs one of the birds. Yup. Grabs. A. Fucking. Pigeon. Stands up and calmly walks back to his briefcase, picks it up, and starts to head my direction.
At this point my brain is SCREAMING to get away from this guy. I mean who randomly catches a pigeon? Is he its leader? Is he going to kill it in some weird sacrifice? Is he going to eat it? Be friends with it? Give it to someone as a present or a death threat? WHAT? I start to back up as he heads my way and I duck around the corner hoping to avoid him.
But no. My life can never be that simple can it? A fun tale about a pigeon snatcher wouldn't be nearly enough. Instead the guy turns the same corner I have (where I'm now pressed against the window of a T-Mobile store), still carrying the writhing bird and nearly 3/4ths of the flock are frantically following him. At eye level. Wheeling and diving around him. And now, because I'm stuck there, they are dive bombing all around me.
I believe this is the point where I actually started muttering out loud. And maybe it was more than muttering. Maybe it was more like "OhMyGOD OhMYGOD OHMYGOD!" and maybe I was kind of frantically spinning around trying to wave the birds away from my face. And maybe I kind of looked like a crazy person. And maybe I don't care. Because having a few strangers wonder about my flailing in the midst of my own personal 7th layer of hell reenactment is not too much to be concerned about.
So that was the start to my weekend. Hope yours wasn't nearly as traumatizing.
1) I. Hate. Pigeons. Completely, totally, and unrealistically I hate these birds. Everyone knows it. I'm not quiet about it. They are rats with wings and any argument that they are cousins of the dove and I should love them will quickly get you an icy glare of death.
2) Normally I change trains half way through my commute. It's faster but also more of a pain since I give up my guaranteed seat to stand on the smelly, dirty red line. But I do it because riding all the way around the loop on the Brown line seems silly when transferring means another 10 minutes of sleep.
3) Chicago has some cool ass art sometimes. And sometimes it's just weird.
Okay, got it? Here we go.
Today I woke up exceptionally early as I am leaving for a trip home at noon and found myself overcome with giddiness and unable to sleep. I decided that tossing and turning was doing no one any good so I got up, got going, and was on the train at least 20 minutes earlier than usual. This also means that I can stay on my train and read which always excites me. Plus, I'd heard about this new art instillation piece at the south end of the loop and staying on my train means I would get a chance to see it.
So I ride all the way around, check out the big eyeball, wonder at the concept of art and then eventually get off the train at Randolph and Wabash. For those of you that are Chicagoans, or more importantly, Loop workers, you may be familiar with this stop. Like it's neighbor Quincy across the loop it is home to a whole host of pigeons at the base of the stairs. Usually the roost a good span back (unlike Quincy where I think they are actually posted guard on that freaking station) and I can sneak along the wall and avoid them. But today, alas today, I would not be so lucky.
I come ambling off the steps and stop, just out of the way of others tumbling down behind me on their way to their own Friday plans, and light up my customary morning, post train - pre work cigarette. Yes, I have a scheduled, post train - pre work cigarette. What's life without some regularity?
Anyway, as I'm standing there this scene unfolds in front of me. A man, probably late 50's, maybe 60's, wearing somewhat business like attire and carrying a briefcase stops in front of the large writhing mass of birds. He sets down his briefcase and slowly starts to walk into the middle of the flock. At this point I already know he's crazy, and since I don't want to go anywhere near him, I hold back and wait to see what happens. Once in the middle of the mass, he slowly starts to crouch down. What the fuck is he doing? I begin to wonder (my coffee free brain is at this point still working kind of slow). Then, before I can even begin to comprehend he reaches out and grabs one of the birds. Yup. Grabs. A. Fucking. Pigeon. Stands up and calmly walks back to his briefcase, picks it up, and starts to head my direction.
At this point my brain is SCREAMING to get away from this guy. I mean who randomly catches a pigeon? Is he its leader? Is he going to kill it in some weird sacrifice? Is he going to eat it? Be friends with it? Give it to someone as a present or a death threat? WHAT? I start to back up as he heads my way and I duck around the corner hoping to avoid him.
But no. My life can never be that simple can it? A fun tale about a pigeon snatcher wouldn't be nearly enough. Instead the guy turns the same corner I have (where I'm now pressed against the window of a T-Mobile store), still carrying the writhing bird and nearly 3/4ths of the flock are frantically following him. At eye level. Wheeling and diving around him. And now, because I'm stuck there, they are dive bombing all around me.
I believe this is the point where I actually started muttering out loud. And maybe it was more than muttering. Maybe it was more like "OhMyGOD OhMYGOD OHMYGOD!" and maybe I was kind of frantically spinning around trying to wave the birds away from my face. And maybe I kind of looked like a crazy person. And maybe I don't care. Because having a few strangers wonder about my flailing in the midst of my own personal 7th layer of hell reenactment is not too much to be concerned about.
So that was the start to my weekend. Hope yours wasn't nearly as traumatizing.
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