History on Le Chat Noir

I watched a documentary on Toulouse Lautrec in Montmartre last night. Since I have nada going on in my life right now and I will spare you from my perpetual bitching and whining, here is a neat little history tid bit on 2 of my favorite thigs - Paris and Cats.

On a hill on The Right Bank, 19th century Montmartre was outside the Paris city limits and free from Parisian taxes. The local nuns made wine and the hill quickly became a popular drinking area. Described as a center of decadent entertainment, the area is most known for The Moulin Rouge, Le Chat Noir and the 'closed houses', better known as bordellos. Montmartre was at that time a very bohemian area of Paris where avant-garde artists, muscians, poets, writers and perfomers resided and worked. Today, located beneath Sacre Coeur, it is a very expensive and upper class neighborhood and nightclub district.

Le Chat Noir (French for The Black Cat) was a caberet located at 84 Boulevard Rouchechouart. It was opened in 1881 by the artist Rodolphe Salis and closed in 1897. A nocturnal animal that is mysterious, seductive, playful, and independent became a symbol not only for the Chat Noir, but for all of Montmartre and its spirit. The Chat Noir became a gathering spot to use the cabaret as an artistic mecca to recite poems, sing songs, and exhibit art work. The cabaret published its own journal Le Chat Noir. This is where "shadow plays" and the comic monologues all began.

According to Salis: "The Chat Noir is the most extraordinary cabaret in the world. You rub shoulders with the most famous men of Paris, meeting there with foreigners from every corner of the world."

Famous patrons of Monmartre included Camille Pissaro, Amedo Modigliani, Pierre Brissaud, Henri Matisse, Pierre-Auguste Renior, Claude Debussy, Toulouse Lautrec, Vincent van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Jane Avril, May Belfort, Aristide Bruant, Yvette Guibert, and Edgar Degas. Even Monet painted a scene from 'the view from the hill'.

Sick, Bored, Broke, Heath, Mountains, Nov 2008

Am I ever going to get well? This has been going on for over 1 month now. One day I wake up and I am fine, the next day I cannot even make it 1/2 way through my shower without needing my inhaler, let alone think of leaving the apt. Not being able to breathe sucks, but the worst part is I have cabin fever and the only thing I seem to be able to do on a consistent basis is worry about funds as I am Broke Bitch Mountain.

Speaking of Broke and Mountain, I am still real sad about Heath Ledger's passing. You know the media and people of the famous world seem to have already pegged it as a suicide, as I guess that would be 'typical' behavior of the like. That is so unfair. I mean the guy said in an interview with the New York Times 2 weeks ago he was having problems sleeping and Ambien was not working that well. Hell, if he is anything like me if it doesn't work and you need sleep desperately enough, you may just pop a few more. I think that's what happened. Bless his heart. He is from Perth and that is my roomie's home town.

Speaking of mountains, again, my friend is in Bulgaria at a place he bought in the mountains. I am so excited for him! It sounds lovely and I looked up some info on the village it is in and it is seems really cool. It used to be a part of the Ottoman Empire. It's all Eastern Europeany, but has a lot of Mediterranean influence as it is near Greece and Turkey. I've never been skiing. It seems like it would be way fun, but I would probably be like Bridget Jones on the slopes. But making an ass of myself has never stopped me from doing anything, so I am game.

I am voting for Hillary in November. I don't get too involved in politics unless asked, and you can think however you want to. That is the beauty of this country is supposedly we have a choice and you can vote the way you want to whether it matters or not. But I am going to say this and I mean it - if there is another Republican in the White House after this term, I am leaving the country. I just have not had good luck in my life time with them. I just can't relate. And that's all I have to say about that.

Before I jet off to a new found nation, Laurie and I have been talking about my upcoming birthday in November - y'all get ready for a unique experience!

SB XLII, +, Groovy Movies, BRRRRRRRR! and Horse Racing

Can anyone tell me what the hell happened in Green Bay on Sunday? The Giants?!?! This does not bode well with me. Yes, I know I live in NYC, but let me tell you something that is never ever to be forgotten; when wandering the streets of Paris or the countryside of England, I am Texan. Someday when shopping in Kuala Lumpur or sunning myself on a beach in The Seychelles, I am Texan. I could own a villa in Tuscany and live there year round and I am Texan. So it is no different when I am working or fighting off Christian Science Warriors or tourists in New York City. While working at the NFL, I boasted to everyone how The Boys were going to the Bowl this year. I was so sure of it. Well, the Cowboys blew that chance like a cheap hooker, but that's OK. I am still proud and I am happy to have gone down with that ship. So here is my positive thinking about NY Giants going to The Bowl. They beat the Cowboys, but just. Then they are off to play Green Bay. The Packers are an ass-whippin machine, so for them to lose to the Giants kind of make the Cowboys look a little better in my opinion. I still think it is just luck, but, nonetheless, they won. Both times. And I don't ever want anyone going to the SB more than the Cowboys. No way will the Giants ever accomplish this. So there. New England is who we have to worry about in that respect. F'ing Tom Brady. He is real nice though. And that is my football talk until Kickoff next season.

Speaking of positive thinking, I am gonna put it out to the Universe. I am going to have a serious abundance of money from now on, move, find a nice relationship (I will define Relationship when I figure that one out [casual, serious, occasional, whatever]), and get my good health back. I am done with being so Poor Pussy about the streak of bad luck I have had. So there. I have said it and so it shall be, sooner rather than later.

I watched Junior tonite. You know, the one where Arnold gets pregnant. I don't want to like this movie. I really don't like it. I freaking LOVE it! I laugh so much when I see this. Like Tommy Boy laugh.

I also saw a disturbing yet completely fascinating movie called Conspiracy. It is comparable to a play rather than a war movie and the cast was exceptional. It was based on a transcript found of one of the participants of a secret business meeting between officers of the SS Army, Hitler's government department heads, lawmakers and Reinhard Heydrich. It is filmed in one location. There is no brutality shown, no action, and not a character of Jewish decent appears in the whole movie. Yet, this is one of the most bone-chilling, hair-raising movies about the Nazi regime I have ever seen. It went pretty much like every business meeting I have ever been to except for the subject matter. In 2 hours, in between smoke/bathroom breaks, jokes, gossip, a buffet lunch and heated discussions, they coldly and passionately calculated the extermination, or evacuation as they referred to it, of an entire race and those associated with that race. The one character that seemed to be sympathetic was clearly as anti-semetic as the rest of the group. His solution? Don't kill them, but sterilize them instead so they cannot breed anymore to infect and corrupt the German and European population in future generations. It does show how the Nazis used intimidation and fear to recruit and ultimately get what they want even amongst themselves. The outcome of this meeting turned out to inevitably be the ground work and blueprint for Hitler's Final Solution. Nazi movies are never fun to watch, but if you dig history, you must see this.

I live in a basement and I don't watch the news. I looked out my back door and saw a nice sunny Spring-looking day out. Put on my flip-flops a light jacket and pulled my hair back in a pony tail. Went up the stairs, ran out the door, took 4 steps, turned around took 4 steps, came in. shut the door, went downstairs and have not left since. It is damn cold here. So cold if you smile, it hurts your teethe. I don't mind snow or cold that much, but sunny and cold is confusing. I guess it is better than sweating like a racehorse.

Horse racing - I can't wait to go to Lone Star Park again. We need to get a group together and go. There is nothing in this world, and I mean nothing, like sitting close to the Finish Line and hearing the approaching thunder of hooves and the ground shaking when they cross. Brings a tear of happiness to mine eye.

Keys, All The Drama, Closed, On Hold, Mansfield Park and Christmas Is Over

Just this morning, I was standing outside my apartment looking for my keys that I 5 seconds before I locked in the apartment when I noticed that I was observing 4 different cell phone conversation dramas. You can tell the people that are not from New York by their phone etiquette. I have surmised the people from New York would rather air their differences on their cell phones rather than sit face to face with the person they are talking to. I don't necessarily blame them, as these people yell and scream and cuss and use hand gestures. One guy I was watching was yelling and throwing his hands around and started kicking the fence and then threw his phone across the street. I know I am not one to say this, but it is just so much drama! So much drama, I could just . . . I don't know! . . . set myself on fire!

To my utter dismay Gente Chic (lovingly referred to as Genitalia Chick) has shut it's doors for the last time. They were taking down the sign and moving the pedicure chairs out. *sigh*. I am not really surprised. Their customer service was terrible. If you went in on Saturday you had to get a massage and try to relax in the same atmosphere as a day care for ADD kids, nobody spoke the same language as anybody else, they spent way too much on their floors and you never really knew how much you had to pay until you had to pay. But, I am still sad.

For the small amount of time I have actually got to talk on the phone today, I have spent 3 times as long on hold. Hold Noise always provokes thought for me. Some stuff is so cool, I have actually asked to be put back on hold when the conversation was over. NFL hold noise is game recaps. It used to be that cool, tough, dramatic music from NFL Films. I always wonder how one chooses their Hold Noise. Some is just terrible. For instance, my best friend worked at Care Now for years. You would think a Medical Clinic that has a bazillion locations all over D/FW would pick something soothing or classical or tacky & Easy Listening. I mean chances are you are calling because you don't feel well. But no, they have some LOUD New Age crap on there that makes you feel like you are waiting on death. This is in between that Phone Chick talking about Care Now like anybody cares now or has ever cared or ever will care. Look up the number to the clinic nearest you, call them and asked to be put on hold. You will see exactly what I mean.

I finished all my work and I am watching Mansfield Park on my Zune. Next to P&P, this is my favorite Jane Austen book. That chick was so ahead of her time. Not only can she verse despair and desire and love and torment and anxiety and frustration and finally relief and the outlook of lifelong happiness and contentment that women feel when coming into a serious relationship, but she shows the same things the men feel, which are virtually the same things listed above. I mean you are pretty exhausted if you get into these movies and books, so as life. Which makes me face my commitment issues as I am thinking "Man, this is an ass whip and what if it doesn't work out?" Was it/Is it worth it? I think so. I regret nothing thus far.

Christmas has been over for how long now? You would not believe the Christmas trees littering the sidewalks of New York City waiting to be picked up by the Sanitation Department. It looks to be a vast dead forest. My Inner Injun is shitting herself.

Doctors, Meds, A Cussin, Football Guys and A Not So Great Cupcake

I went to the doctor yesterday. It was not fun and I was just in the waiting room. I had to drop off a prescription that took 45 minutes just to drop it off then I came back to my appointment and started reading my book. I had Hamlet on my Zune, but I wasn't in a Shakespearean mood. I got bored with my book and started reading the stuff on the wall. There was a sign that said you can get a pap smear done that day while you were getting checked out for the reason you did happen to be there. Cool! So, I thought OK, might as well get all unpleasantness out of the way at the first of the year, then get on some BC. So I noticed that nobody in the waiting room looked familiar. So I got back in line and waited 30 minutes to see why I have not been called when my Hot-Ass-McGee doctor from the ER a few weeks ago waved at me from behind the counter. So I smiled and was happy I might get to see him again and then I thought, Oh Shit. I didn't know I was going to be able to get a pap smear that day and what if he was my doctor? I really wasn't all that prepped for him to see her. I didn't even put on my glitter-oh-it-looks-so-pretty-powder! So it finally got to me and the lady behind the counter started fussin at me, where had I been, they called me and couldn't find me (even though I asked her if I had time to drop something off at the pharmacy) blah blah blah so I just asked if I could reschedule.

Then I had to wait 2 hours for my prescriptions.

Had an asthma attack on the way home on the 7 (I hate the 7), but toughed it out. I decided I was craving McDonald's so I popped in the one nearest my stop.

A few months ago I had an incident with a man at this very McDonald's. See, up here, you may have people standing behind 15 registers, but for some reason everybody gets in one line. It is bullshit and makes no sense whatsoever, but that is how they fly here. Well McDonald's a few weeks ago thought they would change that so they were hollering at everybody "There are 3 line!!!" Yes, line, not lines. So on this one particular day, I thought of the day I got hollered at so I walked up to another register that this girl was just standing behind. She took my order and everything was cool. Except for this guy that made a huge ordeal out of it. "Well, that girl just walked up and cut in front of everyone! Maybe I should act special like her and I would get my food faster!" I turned around and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought there was more than one line". Everybody said it was OK. Except him. He just kept on and on and I was yelling at him "Buddy! I said I was sorry. I didn't know". He would not shut up and I almost threw a Coke at him. He went on about how rude I was (which I am not) and how 'some people' just walk through the raindrops, etc. People behind him were telling him to shut up.

Last night he was standing in front of me at McDonald's. Before thinking me bitchy, please take into consideration I have not slept well since mid-December, I didn't think me or The Girl looked as pretty as we could have, I had just spent 6 hours at Elmhurst, I couldn't breathe for 40 minutes prior to all this, it was cold and I had not eaten that day. Anyway, Guy turns around because he is a nosy bastard and he looks down at me and this is how the conversation went:

Guy: Oh. You're that girl that cut in front of all of us that day.

Ricki: Oh yeah! And you are the fucking crybaby that was being such a pussy about it.

Guy: How dare you!

Ricki: Yeah.

He kept huffing and puffing and bitching and I seriously wish he had a more complex order to have to wait on because I was going to buy a hamburger to throw at him. At close range.

I am working for 3 football guys today: Gene Washington, Art Shell and Merton Hanks. They are all real nice.

I am eating a cupcake that everyone just LOVES. It is not nearly as good as mine. And my mouth feels like I just licked a bucket of butter.

Inner Witch, Insomnia, MTV and Netflix

I have been thinking about an old friend lately. This old friend and I used to be extremely close. During our younger years, we shared everything. Then we drifted. Then we became close again. Then he got married and we did not talk so much, but when we do it is like no time has passed. I recall staying with Anne during on of my visits back to Texas and he came over and the 3 of us laughed until 6:00 in the morning. I don’t mean courtesy laugh – I mean laughed so much my face hurt and then I laughed some more. I had to catch a flight that day or we probably would have laughed until 6:00 the next morning too. I see this friend at annual gatherings with some others we grew up with. His presence at these events is definitely felt. He was not there this year and it was defiantly missed. I have been thinking of him non-stop lately and I feel really anxious to hear from him. I hope all is well.

I haven’t been sleeping lately. Having horrible nightmares. I am not suffering from Insomnia yet, but it is whipping my ass a bit.

I am working at MTV today. I am working on the Pickle Floor – The one that is painted with 'Do What Tickles Your Pickle' and has a pickle running with a crown on his head. I either need to become independently wealthy real quick, find a rich husband, change careers or retire. It is bad when the hi-lite of your day has to do with a pickle painted on the damn wall. I will post that later tonight. Along with the monkey across from it.

Speaking of retiring, I mentioned last week it was 14 degrees out. If I had a year for every degree it is today, I could retire. It is snowing in California and almost 70 degrees in NYC in January. We are all going to hell in a handbasket.

I love Netflix. They have a View Now feature that I am just going to town with.

Queezed, The Upstairs Army, I Love My Cats

I am queezed right now. Queezed with me. I am sick, anxious, my medicine is making me to where I am in a perpetual state of straving (to the point where I would almost chew off my own foot if I was not so damn sure I would have to stick it straight up someone's ass sometime soon), I do not feel cute and I am not a joy to be around. It has been over 2 weeks since my Elmhurst visit and my voice is still not back.

I am listening to my neighbors upstairs doin I don't know what. It sounds like there is an army up there that has been running around and moving shit and cooking and nailing and running water and . . . just please. For the love of God, it is 11:00 now and you have been doing this for well over 12 hours now. You need to pipe the fuck down.

I love the shit out of my cats. Really, they are so much company and they love me and want to be around me no matter how bitchy I am. The picture above is my view of my computer screen. Isis has been sleeping up there for over an hour now and she is so comfortable I don't want to move her. That leg is just hanging there in mid air. They really are the sweetest cats. I cannot wait to move their little cat butts to Texas. Isis just changed position so here is the new view:

I wish I had more to write about, but until I am well enough to leave the house, this is it.

Tomorrow is going to be a better day.

14, Foodie, Michael Jackson, Wrongness, Lucifer and The Reaper

It is 14 today. 14. If it was a year for every degree it is right now, it could not even drive.

Let's talk food. I am a BIG OLE FOODIE. I love all kinds of food. Since coming out of the hospital, I have been on a high protein diet. A lot of people would think that is hard, and granted, you do miss bread, but I am loving this. I call it Meat and Cheese Diet. I lost 3 pounds yesterday and here is what I had to eat.

Breakfast: Ham, bacon, eggs, peanut butter, coffee with heavy cream and 2 Splenda

Lunch: Roast beef and cauliflower with cheese.

Snack: Coffee with heavy cream and Splenda

Dinner: Chicken Cordon Bleu, lemon fish, salad with lettuce, feta, tomato, avocado and Goddess Dressing

Dessert: Mascarpone with cocoa, Splenda and heavy cream whipped into a rich chocolate mousse

Snack: Celery with peanut butter and Laughing Cow Cheese; a really icy diet cream soda, and some ribs

That is a bunch of food. And it is GOOD. I do miss baking though. And I am peeing like a son of a bitch. Tonight I am having Meatzza, fresh mozzarella and balsamic vinegar. Then I will make a shake with ice, heavy cream, water, peanut butter and instant sugar free chocolate pudding.

Now, let us discuss hospital food. I was a snot-making machine, and yet, they kept bringing me milk. The portions are like TV dinners and there is just enough there to keep you hungry after the first bites of realizing that you hate that food and you better eat it because you are getting nothing else and you are so medicated that if you try to sneak out to get food, you are busted and in big fat trouble. There is one thing that tastes so damn good in the hospital: Cheerios. Man, it is like eating a steak it is so good. It was a hard let down when I was awake at 5:05 am and wanting some Cheerios and at 8:10 they brought me Corn Flakes. Fuckin Corn Flakes.

I was laughing too at a memory of Michael Jackson doing that interview with the Martin Bashir. Anne and I still laugh at Fanky imitating Michael Jackson talking about kids spending the night at his ranch. He said "I bring em miiiiiilk and cooooookies." Me being at the hospital was like a kid at Neverland except they brought me juice and painkillers. Fuckin juice and painkillers. Bless his heart. Here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifn_JE4_-Wc

I am on my way to getting a clean financial start. I should have done this years and years ago. AND, I have absolutely no intention of being a broke bitch this year. And I plan on taking a real vacation. And moving mid-way across the country. Maybe even further.

I try not to judge people but I might be in denial about that. Here it is for me. For instance, I FEEL bad for the homeless or stupid. I do not THINK they are homeless or stupid, I actually FEEL it. So when they appall me and I ask them "What the hell is wrong with you?" I think that they think that I am THINKING there is something off and not FEELING there is something off. I am really FEELING something is wrong though, so technically I am not judging. You may be able to change what or how you think, but do you have so much control over what you feel?


God, I am horrible. I think Prednisone makes you the devil. Not only does it make you the devil, but you have no idea you are the devil and if you do have the slightest inclination that you may in fact be the devil, you couldn't give a shit. There is just no subject taboo enough that you don't ponder it and accept your thoughts on it.

Planning the Happy Hour for September. I like doing that.

I am feeling all Social Butterfly but with nothing to do and nobody to hang with. Probably has something to do with me being the devil. I cannot wait to get back to Texas.

Damn my mind is all BZZZZZZZT! Like lightening BZZZZZt! But . . . my body is giving out and cannot keep up at the moment. This must be what death approaching feels like - you can see it, you are fully aware of it, you just cannot get away fast enough. No worries - Body will catch up in a few more days.

January 1, 2008

Happy New Year!

Nothing exciting for me. I needed to breathe so I stayed home last night. Probably a good choice, but it is too early to tell.

So, here is a list of movies I have seen lately and the recommendations that go with:

Heartbreak Kid: This is some funny shit.

Shoot Em Up: Clive is hot, which was the lure. It basically had no plot and there was lots of shooting and sliding. I must have lapsed into temporary retardedness to have expected something else.

Stardust: I cried like a baby and it was entertaining. But remember, I have also cried in the past week over the lack of butter.

3:10 to Yuma: This is my favorite movie from 2007. I have never seen a truer Western. It is just such a mixed emotion story. Sheer Greatness. He may be known for being a bastard, but Russel Crowe is one cool MF.

Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix: My least favorite book of the HP Series, but the best movie so far. Even as a snake-face-drama-king, you can tell Ralph Fiennes is one nasty bastard. You just have to love that.

Whilst listing things, here are some things I will do better so as not to be in so much trouble and turmoil on a constant basis.

Make more lists. Anne has been ridin my ass about this for years. The weird thing is, I am at the top of my field. I can run the lives of the people I work for on a dime - scheduling, to do stuff, travel, social, accounts, being in the know, thinking ahead, research, keeping them hip, etc. The fact is, my life is nothing short of an artic meldown with the consequences reaching much further than the north pole. Makes life interesting, but I am kind of tiring of it and I need to get my shit straight.

I would like to add, being in the top of my field does not mean in the least that I am being paid top dollar. I looked at my earnings from last year and I made $2200 less in 2007 than I did working in Fort Worth, Texas in 1998. I am not busting my ass any less and my responsibilites have grown, yet I am truly struggling. It is either feast or famon and I just want a little more consistancy. So, in 2008, I need to make more money and I am willing to work hard for it.
Do not wear my flip flops again until, say, April. Maybe March. I have several times went out wearing them in the snow.

Stay out of the hospital. I lose time there and it takes weeks to recover that. Nobody ever comes to see me, I get bruises and poked and swollen and I have to hang with other sick people and I get sad and mad and anxious and it is just not fun for me.

Pay my taxes on time. That is an important one.

Only buy good chocolate. No use in eating the shit chocolate.

Forget Special Exemption Ricki. That chick is more trouble than she is worth.

Communicate more and use the phone. I am such a chatty/e-maily.

Try and keep this Kathleen Turner/Demi Morre voice. I am liking it.

Write more. More more more.

Be more tolerant of other people. Let's face it, there are some poor stupid sons of bitches out there and I can't change that.

Be more tolerant of myself. I will never have the looks of Catherine Zeta Jones. I am also not as daft as Paris Hilton, as mental as Britney Sprears (bless her heart), or possess the grace of Cate Blanchet. I am more like Bridget Jones, but let's face it, people like her. I can relate well to people. I am fun and crazy and hardly ever dull even when I am being a home body. I can make you laugh and make you feel at ease. I can also make you a proper Southern Meal and a dozen cupcakes in about 30 minutes. I may also be able to drink you under the table too.

Take more pictures. And organize them. I was thinking of al the events of my life that I have taken pictures at and yet I do not have one of them to show for it. Mardi Gras(s), vacations, parties, interesting moments. Somewhere there is a picture of Fanky with his head over the toiltet after a bout of alcohol poisoning in New Orleans with Judge Dredd on the TV in the background. Where have they gone? I am going to start the ultimate life scrapbook. Besides, I have nice handwriting and I can do magic with paper.

I need to connect with my Inner Injun. I feel there is coolness lurking there.

December 27, 2007

Friday the 21 DEC, some of the Girls and I went to the Pub for a long lunch. We came back to the office and I left work about 6:30. It was awesome! I was looking forward to my 4 days off. Doing errands on Saturday, doing some last minute shopping on Sunday for Clint and the kitties and then wrapping them up and watching movies on Monday and Tuesday. I wanted to go see the Tree for the last time. Somewhere between 48th and Park and Astoria, something went horribly wrong.



I left the office and walked just 2 blocks. I had to go to the drugstore. I was having chills, shaking, had tons of snot and coughing like crazy. My throat was a little sore. Bought some TheraFlu, Tylenol Sinus and Congestion and a piece of chocolate. Left there and walked another 2 blocks and decided to change my weekend plans all together. On the 7 Train, I decided to do all my laundry and errands on Saturday and then just rest for the rest of the weekend. I would also need more chocolate.



Got up Saturday, was feeling sooooo queezy. Managed to get all the laundry together and go to Key Food and low and behold, Bootleg Lady was out so I got all my entertainment that I needed at a discount price. Went and bought stuff to make Chicken Noodle Soup and chili and went back to get laundry. Was feeling so bad all I couldn't even take the time to fold my clean clothes. Since I had sampled a little bit of all my OTC Medicine and nothing was working, I broke out a bottle of Southern Comfort and chugged a little. Not surprisingly, I felt tons better. For about 20 minutes. I had a sleepless night and at 10:30 on Sunday, I was playing solitaire and for some reason just picked up the phone and dialed 911. By the time I got there I could not breathe and I was coughing like a son of a bitch. Packed a little bag while waiting and got to the ER at Elmhurst Hospital. Yes, this hospital is in Queens but to both my pleasure and my anguish, it is the Hot Doctor Mecca of the planet. I have never looked so bad and I am quite sure I was not smelling my Orange Blossom self either. But I cannot be sure - my nose was not working.



Sat in the ER for about 10 hours, then they said I was being admitted and they were going to put me someplace quiet that I could sleep. The turned out to be New Holding Area 2. Translation: they put me with all the prisoners from Riker's Island. For those of you that don't know it, Riker's is just down the river a little from Sing Sing. So it was little white girl me, 11 prisoners, 4 nurses and 28 cops. It was not quiet.



I have to laugh really hard at least once a day to keep everything in check. One of the prisoners came back from X-Ray and was taking to his other prisoner friend and it sounded just like a conversation me and Fanky would have. It went a little something like this:



Prisoner 1: Yo Man. Whas that new big guys name? Tough. Really big mutha fucka. Fire Kid? Fire Starter?
Prisoner 2: Slim. Name's Slim.
Prisoner 1: Ye. Slim. Ye.



I started laughing so hard they had to call Respiratory to come in and give me a treatment. Then they started talking rape and I started singing out loud to deflect the noise. I sang that song Juliet Lewis sang in jail in Natural Born Killers – Born Bad.



Got a room. I felt after all that went on I was in ahotel. They brought me juice and a painkiller straight away. Read Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows cover to cover. Twice. Christmas Day the Muslim kids came by and gave us presents. I wept like a baby. The sweet Spanish lady next to me was so nice. I wept like a baby then too. Everybody that called me on Christmas made me so happy I cried. I wasn't being a complete putty heart. I also cried because they forgot to bring me some butter, I laughed at a nurse that tripped on pee and slid like 20 feet, when one of my nicest in the world doctors asked me if I had any questions, I asked him why he smiled so god damn much and I threw some Reece's Pieces down a radiator and then set my banana on it under a towel to see if they would smell like peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I think my medicine took a little toll on old Rick.





I didn't have enough time to shop for Clint so I swiped a box of gloves and some tape for him. It is NOT stealing – I am sure I paid for it dearly, believe you me. He likes to clean, so I know he will use them and it is the thought that counts.



Kneehole had a baby girl today. I am Auntie Ricki again. Now in 2008 I have to change my life enough to set good examples – get finances straight, get health in order, quit smoking, drinking and cussing, no more taking stuff even if it not technically stealing, writing more and learning to be content. Maybe at first I will work on the content thing and stop taking things. Later I will cut back on smoking and drinking. Is cussin really that big a deal? Drinking with friends is a good thing, right? OK - I will do the best that I can. I don't want to change so much I am not even me any more. I think I may find a decent and proper boyfriend too and get over the commitment issues. Who the hell am I kidding? It's not me that's scared. And they should be. Be afraid . . . be very afraid . . .

Next year, I am going to have a good Christmas, dammit.