On Gender and Religion

In lieu of an actual blog post, I’d like to share a lovely quote from my always quotable father, Bernie vO.

(When asked how woman came to be, he said…)

“And then He ripped the rib outta that sonofabitch and said, ‘You need a pain in the ass!'”

Helped me understand a lot of things better.



Last week I was here:

Ocean City, NJ

And now I am here:

Not Ocean City, NJ

Not Ocean City, NJ

Work blows.

Mary’s Best Day

Today was my first of 40 consecutive days and nights without ice cream, Swedish Fish, Fruity Pebbles and the like. This is a small sacrifice I make, in my infinite aptitude for hypocrisy, in the name of the Lord-fellow (could be worse — Papa vO gives up scotch. Merciful heavens!). You’d think that that would cast a cloud on the day, making it a “bad day.” Instead, today, Feb. 6, was my “best day.”

I woke up at 6:50 a.m., said my goodbyes to JB for the day, did my pre-work bit. Stepped out into the Philly air, nearly 60 degrees. Walked the 2.3 miles to work, passing the Art Museum, several smarmy fellows in grey suits and a few cute bulldogs on the way.

Work was normal — wrote about a few restaurants I can’t afford, tweaked a newsletter, got hit on by the salad bar dudes. Had the pleasant surprise of having not one but TWO soups that sidled right up my alley. Which to get? French Onion? Tuscan Minestrone? I walked back and forth between the two for 5 minutes, then finally decided to get both. Big score #1.

Got back to my desk, ate the French Onion, put the Tuscan Minestrone in the fridge for tomorrow. Who needs Nutella when you have Tuscany in a styrofoam bowl?

Buzz from Erin D., big-time friend since age 14. “Great news for you” says Erin. Hoping it has to do with free drinks? Free dog? “Got you a Cat Power ticket for Friday” “Oh my goodness” yes I was interested, fate for Friday sealed, big score #2.

Did work-like things, finished a few projects, productive meeting, banter aplenty.

Took trolley home, smelled like Chik-Fil-A, hot as a scrotum. Got out 2 miles early, walked home in t-shirt, passing several ash-marked foreheads.

Drank a free bottle of wine with Lan. Erin, the ticket-provider, stopped by with mango ice cream. “Oh just have some,” she said.

“No way DeCou,” I said, “I can’t eat that shit til March 23rd.”

“But it’s mango” said a drunk Lesley, “it’s okay to have mango.”

Irregardless. Successfully passed day 1 without incident. Listened to Aerosmith. Best day.