Voices...inside my head
Echoes...of the things that you said

--The Police


*********************************

"Deeper Confessions": Doesn't that sound like something you'd see on Cinemax after 10PM? Um, not that I'd know...


So yesterday was a bit nutty. 'Started with a wake-up call at 4:30AM to give myself enough time to shovel my poor 4-Runner, Betty, out of the massive heap of white fluffy stuff around her. Then I had to be down at the newsroom by 7AM to cover a *riveting* corporate earnings conference call.

Unless you're a serious investor, I don't recommend these calls to anyone. No good can come of them. They're my own personal little axis of evil.

The call started at 8AM, eastern standard time, to beat the New York markets. New Yawk, buffy. Fah-bulous. Once again, New York: the direct cause of all my pain and anguish.

And I had to drive in because my day ended with a 60-mile voyage halfway to Wisconsin to interview this guy who's doing cool things with cellphones. Yay. Then, on the 60 miles back the white fluffy stuff started descending on me again. Rear-wheel drive. Yes, even in a 4-Runner. Joy.

But here's my point.

I get home and go for a walk and then something really strange happens. I feel completely at peace. Like, for the first time this year.

The white fluffy stuff was descending at a furious rate, but in its silent persistence, well, I actually, um, I liked it. I looked around Lincoln Park and found myself thinking, "This is actually quite pretty."

[gasp!]

Then I thought, "Wow, it's like 25 degrees and yet I'm not cold anymore." If I can feel my face and my ears aren't stinging, i.e. teens and below, I honestly don't feel cold. I've adapted!

I'm like that little lab rat in The Abyss - you know, where they put it in the oxygenated breathing fluid and at first it puts up a magnificent struggle but next thing you know it's breathing the stuff? Well that's me. I'm the rat.



This was momentous news! So of course I had to share it with Cronkette. I popped out my handset and rang her at work. I told her all about it. I gushed my deepest, darkest, closeted secret - that I hadn't told anyone ever before.

Deep inside, I like the white fluffy stuff. My meteorological orientation isn't what it seems.

Her reaction? To me pouring my soul and taking this bold step?

"Um, can I call you back?

....

@#%^#^$!!


You know what? Forget it!

I hate the white fluffy stuff!

It sucks! The white fluffy stuff can kiss my ass! You hear me?! I was just kidding! And it's fucking freezing here! This is truly the land that God hates!

Stop laughing at me! I hate you all!!


Editor's note: Besides mentioning the obvious - that Dickie's slipping in his personal struggle to embrace reality - we would also like to point out that he later asked Cronkette if he could call her back in order to finish the last five minutes of his online Halo 2 match. If Cronkette had a blog, she would be typing about how much of a tool Dickie is as we speak. Regards.