Monday, June 8, 2009

Amazon Awesome-ness.

There's a popular new past time AZ helped me discover and that is the sport of reading Amazon reviews. I don't see how this has gone unearthed for me for so long as the comments section of Amazon is about as good as Speidi's performance on "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here."

Take the Zubaz Pants for example. Described as, "Elastic Waistband with Drawcord for Wide Range Fit" and "Loose Fitting Pant Legs with Sharply Tapered Ankle Cuffs," I knew I had a potential gold mine of reviews on my hands. As I scrolled down the page, the first one to catch my eye was from Alan E. Schmidt. Alan writes...

"I was searching for clothes that speak to me.. These pants not only spoke to me, they entered my soul and transformed me. When I get out of my bitchin 78 camaro wearing these bad boys, there's no question who the boss man is..."

The first questions that popped into my head are, "Who are these people? And how can I make them my best friends?"

Another great piece of clothing featured on Amazon is the Three Wolf Moon Shirt ( FYI - this shirt also would make a smashing combination with the Zubaz Pants). B. Govern tickled my fancy the most with his "real life" experience wearing the mythical Three Wolf Moon Shirt saying, "I arrived at Wal-mart, mounted my courtesy-scooter (walking is such a drag!) sitting side saddle so that my wolves would show. While I was browsing tube socks, I could hear aroused asthmatic breathing behind me."

Pure gold.

No one's getting out alive,

Thursday, May 14, 2009

The never ending move.

So I've been trying to move for well over a week now. It has been quite the process and somehow it is still not over.

It started with my mom, FSD and sister coming down to take the majority of my stuff over to the new condo I'm living in and back to house in the 'burbs since where I am going to be living is furnished and I need alot less stuff. If you knew my family, you would know that anytime there are a number of us trying to complete a task, it is filled with mishaps and injuries so I was more than apprehensive to begin this foray into my move. Shockingly, it went off pretty well and I didn't have anything broken (not like my move out of my apartment sophomore year when my mom and my ex-boyfriend managed to break my UW snowglobe I had received for my high school graduation, needless to say I had to "excuse myself" to shed a few tears on my porch, still haven't had the heart to replace it).

My next adventure in the great move was I had to rent a U-Haul for all of my furniture because my Dad decided to "re-possess" my car like some sort of cracked out Toyota collections agent (fyi - my dad sucks) and since I was suddenly unexpectedly sans car, I got to spend a hot $160 on an oversized U-Haul that I barely filled. Luckily, my FSD jumped to the rescue and helped me load up the thing and I brought it back to my mom's house where I'm storing all my un-used furniture for the summer.

My final adventure into the wonderful land of moving is supposed to happen today. I'm moving into my new digs off of Michigan Ave. I'm excited to see and enjoy a new part of the city. Streeterville is so different than Lincoln Park that it will be cool to live in an area that feels more like the city.

We'll see how it all goes, but I'll be happy when I have it all behind me. Moving is such a pain in the ass.

No one's getting out alive,

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Public transportation telephone use.

You know what is one of my biggest pet peeves? Using your cell phone on public transportation.

This week I am commuting between my house in the 'burbs and the city because my mom is in Ireland visiting my brother. Since my mom treats my little sister like she's a 7 year old with a wooden stump as a leg and a propensity to set things on fire (when she's really an 18 year old who scores 34's on her ACT and her IQ is higher than every member of our immediate family combined), I have to make the miserable trek back and forth from the 'burbs to the city, shlepping myself after work on the Metra back to my house.

I've forgotten how much I hate commuting, but what I forgot even more is my hatred of people who think that's it's is socially appropriate to use their cell phones on public transportation. I don't give a shit if you are going to pick up little Timmy from soccer practice so your wife doesn't have to anymore. I could give a rat's ass that your meeting ran over, so you didn't catch your "normal train" and you're going to be late for dinner.

A ride on the Metra shouldn't equal my ears being forced to listen to short vignettes about suburbanites painfully boring lives steeped in dinner scheduling, train arrival times and the myriad of practices/recitals/school functions they are trying to sort out.

I give working parents tons of credit. I couldn't imagine having screaming children to go home to when you have the pressures of work to deal with all day which is exactly why I don't want to hear about it. Suburbanites lives stress me out. I don't want to live like that and I DEFINITELY don't want to hear about it when I am trying to unwind and catch up on celeb gossip on my TMZ iPhone app. I prefer living in fantasy land bliss post the 5pm work end time, your harsh reality of responsibility and children frankly pisses me off, so please leave it behind and don't bring it to my train ride home.

No one's getting out alive,

Monday, May 11, 2009

The band is breaking up.

So I haven't been blogging because these past couple of weeks have been absolutely insane. I went to Europe for two weeks, AZ came to stay with me for a week and I am moving out of my apartment with my room mates who I have lived with foreverrrr.

It's pretty scary/sad that we are all going our seperate ways. Just due to circumstances, it doesn't make sense for us to all move into the same apartment together again and I can't help but feel like, "the band is breaking up."

I have lived with M for the 4-5 years and with S for the past 2 so imagining not having them to come home to is really bizarre. I am moving into my best friend's mom's condo because her mom is moving to Denver for the summer. It's pretty exciting because I get to live there rent free and it's right on Michigan Avenue, so it will be cool to live in the city part of Chicago instead of one of the neighborhoods.

It will definitely be a switch though. Going from always having someone to come home to, have a glass of wine and talk about your day to only having yourself is going to be a major change for me. I'm not sure that I'm really going to like it because I like having people around much more than I like being on my own. I think it is definitely going to teach me to get out there and do more random things which is actually great in terms of timing because Chicago summer is right around the bend.

The official move in date is the 15th so we will see how it goes, wish me luck!

No one's getting out alive,

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Summer/Life Plan

This Sunday over a delicious lunch at the Chicago Diner (I had the Aztec avocado tacos – AHHHMAZING) my roommate and I mapped out our new summer/life plan.

Lately, I’ve felt like we are in a slump, same bars, same neighborhood, same people. I’m looking for a change and now that summer’s approaching, warm weather, beer gardens, it’s getting imperative we make the move.

We discussed bars, restaurants, activities, groups of friends, meeting new people and getting out of our rut. For me, the straw that broke the camel’s back was on Saturday night. I was out with a couple of friends at an uber fratty sports bar. Now, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with sports bars…when there’s an ACTUAL sporting event. However, as a 25 year old semi-professional, I was looking for something a little more than guys in jersey’s, $3 O-bombs, forty’s and grinding on a make believe dance floor. It was so frat-tastic, I could’ve barfed. If I wanted to go to a frat party, I could walk myself back to Miami.

Then the night took a turn for the worse, I look over and this guy is making out with some rando girl on the (again, make-shift) dance floor. Let me re-phrase, they weren’t making out; he had turned his mouth into a vacuum and was sucking off her face, tongue, tonsils and stomach. Spit was flying everywhere, hands groping air, it was so awkward and sloppy. I thought her head might disappear into his mouth. Then, no joke, 45 seconds later he’s making out with someone else against the wall, while the other girl watched on. This is where I put my beer down, grabbed my roommate and headed outta there.

So back to our new summer/life plan. We came up with some great places/things to try. Maybe you all can print this out and put up on your fridge; a great new list of places for you as well:

  • Hopleaf (duh, I’m obsessed and it’s stalking me)
  • Market in the West Loop
  • Speed Dating
  • Lumen
  • Danny’s in Bucktown
  • Violet Hour
  • Elbow Room
  • Live music (jazz/blues)
  • Turtle Racing at Joe’s Bar
  • Improv show
  • Subterranean in Bucktown
  • Capitalizing on new groups of people

If you’ve been to any or want to drop a reco, please feel free! We’re looking to shake things up this summer.

Attraction is not a choice,

LOLLA 2009!

I am SO SO SO SO excited for Lollapalooza this year because the line-up is AMAZINGggg. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Lollapalooza it's a three day concert in Grant Park, full of amazing artists where you can lie in the grass and enjoy the Chicago skyline while listening to some of the best music around.

I've gone almost every single year that it's been in Chicago (with the exception of the year after I graduated college and I was in South America) and it's by far one of my favorite parts of Chicago summers.

Last year I went with my sister and we saw some bomb acts like John Butler Trio, Tally Hall, Iron & Wine, Amadou & Mariam, G. Love & Special Sauce, Girl Talk, Flosstradamus, Gnarls Barkley and Kanye West.

This was my sis and I in front of the Tally Hall stage which I'm pretty sure was her favorite act that year. We got really close and were in the shade which isn't a common combo in a giant, open space like Grant Park.

I on the other hand, was obsessed with Girl Talk last year. His performance was so incredibly amazing it wasn't even funny. Gregg Gillis was literally so close to me I could touch him. He crowd surfed right over my sister and I.

Then he landed in the middle of the crowd and spun from this booth they had set up. My sister and I were mere inches from him, it was insane.

This year seems EVEN better than last year. According to this blog, and his source states that ten percent of the artists he lists may be incorrect, but the potential line-up has acts like:

  • The Killers
  • Kings of Leon
  • OK Go
  • Regina Spektor
  • Atmosphere
  • Ben Harper
  • Franz Ferdinad
  • Ra Ra Riot
  • Silverspun Pickups
  • TheDecembrists
  • TV on the Radio
  • Vampire Weekend
  • Yeah Yeah Yeahs

3 days passes go on sale March 31, and I know I'll be the first to swoop mine, I CAN'T WAIT.

Also, this weekend I'm going to see another one of my favorite bands, Bloc Party at the Aragon Ballroom. I've never seen them live, but I've heard they're great and I'm amped to see them. Concerts are such a great way to hang out over the weekend without the usual bump and grind of blacked out frat boys that you have to beat off with a stick at Lincoln Park bars. This weekend, I can rage in the comfort of two of my good friends and quality tunes.

No one's getting out alive,

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Moving forward, high school is dead.

So I suck at posting lately, but in my defense I've had so much going on at work that I've barely had time to come up for air. Moving forward, (this is one of those classic lines you fine integrated into your 24 year old lexicon that you couldn't have paid your 18 year old mouth to say) I am going to try to be better at posting and not let other things affect the amount of time I dedicate to said blog.

That being said, and I'm going to hell if she ever finds this blog, but last night I went to dinner with one of my high school friends. This friend I grabbed food with, was one of my best friends from high school that I literally used to be inseparable from and I've known since I was in 8th grade. Now whether you have a 60 year old perspective while reading this blog or a 16 year old, everyone knows that one of the basic tenets of being a human is that people change. That is the best way to explain the dinner dynamic I had to endure last night.

My friend from high school, let's call her Red, has been been mad at me for the past year or so because I "haven't dedicated enough of my time to our friendship." She's one of those classic needy friends, everyone has them, that takes every little move you make as a personal accost to her humanity and can't really understand that you are busy living your life and drinking beer in your basement as a 16 year old doesn't hold any sort of precedent in your life anymore.

Regardless, she took the time to send me a really sweet card for my birthday and in the card was like, "I just want to wish you a happy birthday and I would love to take you out to dinner or drinks for your birthday sometime, let me know when you are available." As nice as the gesture was, she didn't come to my birthday party so I kinda thought it was just one of those reaching out sort of things people do without any follow through.

But sure enough, come Monday, I sign onto gchat and she IMs me saying, "Hey have you gotten my card yet, would love to take you to dinner if you can?" Since she was really trying to reach out I felt bad pulling away anymore than I already had so I agreed to go to dinner last night.

Even though this was supposed to be my "birthday dinner," she insisted on me picking the place and telling me how poor she was. Due to these disclosures, I tried to pick a local, cheap spot that I knew had specials on Tuesdays.

She called me to let me know that she had gotten to dinner 45 minutes early and since the bar was more in my neighborhood I offered to have her come to my house while I finished getting ready. She refused and little did I know until I showed up at the bar that instead of coming to my house a mere four blocks away, she sat in her car.

When we went into the restaurant, there was a half hour wait. While we waited it was butt-clench central. It couldn't be more apparent that we had just drifted apart, through no fault of either one of us, we just weren't the same people anymore. There was nothing left for us to connect upon and we had grown and changed from the 16 year olds, excited to have our licenses, to 24 year olds who had nothing to talk about.

We spent the next hour and a half at dinner, re-hashing high school drama that I could care less about before going our separate ways. Finally, when the bill came, after she had ordered the majority of the check, she asked if we wanted to split it. In my head, I'm thinking, okay you've managed to harass me into a dinner that I didn't want to attend and into paying for food that I didn't want to consume with you, but please, can we split the bill! Either way, I ended up accepting my debit card fate and throwing it down.

Moving forward, it just goes to show you that no matter how many tears you've spilled in sweaty garages over emo talks while guzzling Mike's Hard Lemonades as a teen, there comes a day when there's just nothing left to talk about.

No one's getting out alive,

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Fav Chicago BYOB's

I LOVE going out to eat! It is one of my favorite things to do and to be honest I may be addicted. On average, I go out to dinner 1-2 times a week and eat all my meals out on the weekend. If I gave up eating out, I’d be a freaking millionaire. Brunch and BYOB’s are my fav!! While we are in a recession and I’m not made of money, unfortunately I can’t hit up the hot spots every night. Sure, I’d love to frequent Table 52, Charlie Trotters, Eve, Carmines, Rosebud Prime and Gibsons on a regular basis, but let’s get real.

BYOB is the greatest thing ever! I hardly ever go anywhere that’s not BYOB and Chicago has so many great resources. A couple months ago at my favorite wine shop, Kafka Wine, I picked up the best book ever, “BYOB Chicago,” complete with all BYOB restaurants in the area.

And, just this week, I got the new TimeOut Chicago’s, “BYOB Guide” which lists the magazines top 50 picks, and yes some of my favorites did make the list. So without further delay, here are my fav hot spots:

Adesso on Broadway in hopping Boy’s Town:
The braised short-ribs and creamy shallot polenta are to die for and I usually end up getting this every time. I try to branch out and get something new when I go, but it’s just too hard. This may just be my favorite restaurant, as it’s in walking distance to my apt, has good affordable Italian food, is BYOB (duh) and is so cozy and quaint. Reservations are a must as this place is teeny tiny and on the weekends is packed with glorious gay men.

Terragusto on Armitage:
So excited when this place opened up a second location in Lincoln Park (original is in Roscoe Village). My first experience was with friend's family and we got the chef’s tasting menu. It is still to this day one of the top meals I’ve ever had. I recently celebrated Valentine’s Day here with “all my single ladies” and highly recommend the “pop’s hat pasta filled with butternut squash” (also featured in TimeOut). Definitely drank heavily on V-day, so I hope this reco lives up to my memory.

Think in Wicker Park:
This one is a little on the pricey side, but well worth it, if you’re celebrating or on a romantic date. The duck risotto and lobster stuffed red peppers are a must and the white linen table cloths and candle light make you feel like you’ve stepped out of the blistering Chicago weather. I do not recommend going out after as the food tends to be on the rich side.

Thai Classic on Clark in Wrigley
This is a true hole in the wall and on Sunday’s they have an all you can eat Thai buffet, I have yet to go. They have an adorable seating area where you must take off your shoes and sit with your feet in the ground, very authentic and fun! This is my favorite delivery go-to and always get the green curry or any curry for that matter.

Jai-Yen on Braodway in Lakeview
Nestled off the beaten path, next to an empty store front, this sushi place offers low-key, convenient and affordable sushi. When I first moved to Chicago, I celebrated many a birthdays as I did my current job at this neighborhood go-to. The maki rolls are all great, my fav is the crazy and giant maki and the fried rice and mochi are also great staples!

Coast in Bucktown
Another great spot for birthday’s, I've celebrated a couple here. Coast tries to think outside the box and offers up unique and creative rolls. Aside from sushi, they also have great extras, such as the tuna tartare. Reservations are a must and be prepared to wait on weekends even with a ressie.

I highly recommend the new TimeOut Chicago. I know I plan on hitting up each and every spot listed, with SMOQUE number 1 on the list.

Attraction is not a choice,

Monday, March 9, 2009

40 Days and 40 Nights...

Apparently it is Lent and Catholics all over are giving up an array of things for forty days and forty nights. As someone who is not Catholic or religious, I am fascinated with all the stuff people give up.

My understanding is you have to choose something that is a true sacrifice – something that would be very hard to live without. As a Miami alum you’d think I’d have this down pat by now. I mean you were a minority if you weren’t Catholic, one of the only ones who stuck around Easter weekend when Oxford turned into a ghost town and drank herself silly (two of the best weekends in college). I sometimes forget how many are out there and was shocked when they started coming out of the woodwork all around me.

I find it quite interesting that most things sacrificed had to do with food. All of a sudden I had to constrict what I ate because my roommate had given up meat. Although I have to admit, we did go to an amazing seafood joint in Irving Park, Glenn's Diner. A great deal of people gave up the following

  • Soda
  • Cheese
  • Meat
  • Starbucks
  • Buying lunch
  • Carbs
  • Shots

However, I have yet to find anyone who gave up sex, liquor, coffee, TV or cigarettes. Sure people gave up Starbucks and shots, but they still are able to make their own coffee and drink liquor, beer and wine. So where’s the real struggle in that? None of the true vices were given up, because lets be honest, who could really go 40 days without those? And you have to actually partake in them to give them up. Just because you’re on a dry spell doesn’t mean all of a sudden your amazing, because you gave up sex…none of that!

Is it all a way for girls to proclaim their food neuroses out in the open? For the next 40 days they constrict what they eat, drop pounds and then on the 41st day are right back in the saddle? What’s the motivation behind it, how do you choose? What on earth would I give up? Good thing I don’t have to! I can have my Starbucks at work, my beer at the bar, my cheese on the weekend AND eat it too!

So, I want to know, what’s the craziest thing you’ve heard given up? What’d you give up this year? Do we have anyone who went for the gold and is in withdrawal? Comment here and let me know!

Attraction is not a choice,

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Snuggie Revolution.

So because I work in PR, I get these emails from editors requesting information about all sorts of subjects asking for images, spokespeople, experts, information, etc. that they want us PR folk to provide. The other day an editor from the Pittsburgh Post Gazette sent a request asking for information on the Snuggie. He was planning on writing an Op-Ed about whether the success of the Snuggie had any correlation with the recession (Did anyone tell you yet that we are in a recession? If not you heard it here, first!). His thoughts were that because people are trying to cut back on expenses during these "faltering economic times" they were choosing to invest in things like the Snuggie to stay warm. He wanted us to provide him with any statistics or experts who could speak to his hypothesis.

Now unless you're blacked out like Amy Winehouse and have been living on a remote Caribbean island to heal your heroin scars, I would hope by now that you are aware of the Snuggie. It esentially looks like Lord Voldemort's cloak, except instead of it housing a a nose-less demon, it can keep you, Bobby, Billy Sue and Ginger Ann warm for only $19.99. It also comes in three stylish colors like Burgandy, Royal Blue and Sage Green so if you didn't think you were hideous enough swathed in polyester cotton, you can look like a giant period stain, cookie monster or a booger, simply smashing. It's the most absurd thing I have ever seen since it is essentially a bath robe put on backwards. It reminds me of the kids from my high school who used to wear their backpacks on their front instead of their back to give off the look that they are pregnant, socially inept or both. It made me want to punch them in the face, I feel the same way about people who wear the Snuggie.

And now, coming to a Chicago-land area bar near you is the Snuggie Bar Crawl which is the only thing that could actually break my disdain for the Snuggie.

Alcohol -- Check
Costumes -- Check
Looking hideous in costumes -- Check
Blacking out while looking hideous in costumes -- Check and Double Check

Count me in!

No one's getting out alive,

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

What I wish I had known when I was in your shoes...

We have a treat in store for you today fellow hVSf readers, we have our first official guest blog post! “Red Cowboy Boots” is a fellow hVSf fan and wanted to share with us some advice she wishes she would have known when she was our age. Red Cowboy Boots is a beautiful, kick-ass, take no prisoners 40 year-old woman who has more than a few life insights to share, 20 in fact.

As shoe styles change from when you are a tween wearing sketchers to a high schooler in your first set of heels to early 20’s in your chic, knee high boots, so does your perspective and things you wish you would have known. Being two 20 something year-olds, this advice certainly hit a note with us (personally I find myself moisturizing a little more often than I used to). So listen up because with age comes wisdom indeed.

  1. You only get one set of tires for all those miles you’re gonna put on… save the killer heels for special occasions or there will come a time when the only thing you can wear are cowboy boots. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but they don’t go with a LBD like a 4” pair of cockroach killing stilettos.
  2. The skin of your dĂ©colletage is the thinnest on your body. ALWAYS wear sunscreen on your chest. Sun-damaged, saggy and wrinkly cleavage at the age of 70…sure. Beginning when you’re 35? Not so cool.
  3. If you want to put out on the first date…go for it. If he really likes you, it won’t matter. 90% of my “relationships” started with a one-night stand. Random drunken bar hook-ups with complete strangers? I can honestly say I regret at LEAST 90% of them.
  4. Cleanse & moisturize your face and neck every morning and every night.
  5. Pride – noun: a becoming or dignified sense of what is due to oneself or one’s position or character; self-respect; self-esteem. If he hasn’t called you yet, it’s because he doesn’t want to. Please don’t call him.
  6. Never get drunk at work or at a work function. If your boss isn’t drinking, for any reason other than pregnancy, then neither should you (Nope, not even the office holiday party). You wanna get your drink on? Go out with your friends.
  7. Tell your parents you love them every single time you see them, whether or not “that’s not how they are.” You never know if the last time you see them will be the last time you’ll see them.
  8. You know that awesome “I’m the only one in the whole world that’s ever felt this kind of love” love? Well, everybody feels it and it never lasts forever. How could it? We’d never get any work done. That being said, make sure you’re in it for love and not just for lust. If everybody you know tells you that you’re moving too fast, you are moving too fast.
  9. Oil of Olay works as well as or better than any other moisturizer on the market and Vaseline petroleum jelly rubbed onto the thin skin around your eyes and on your eyelids at night is a magical thing. Trust me.
  10. Jealousy & insecurity is a waste of time; confidence is sexy as all hell.
  11. Women remember EVERYTHING, whether they want to or not. Men remember nothing. Don’t take it personally.
  12. If you ask somebody enough times if they’re cheating on you, they will cheat on you.
  13. Don’t assume that just because somebody works FOR you that they’re less educated, intelligent or experienced than you are. I’ve managed million dollar offices across the country, put in my 70 hour work weeks, brought home the elusive 6 figure income, I’ve even hired and fired the best of them. So how did I end up taking direction from 23-year olds? It’s a choice…life is too short to work so hard.
  14. Thin DOES taste better.
  15. A 2-litre bottle of regular Coca Cola or a half-gallon of bleach poured down your drain will clear a clog better than any liquid union worker in a bottle.
  16. Were there too many smokers at your party? Place a couple dishes of white vinegar around your crib; unless your roommate is a chronic chain-smoker, the odor should be gone within 24 hours.
  17. Chicago is a windy city but don’t you look adorable in that little skirt? WHOA!!! Wear bike shorts under your skirt/dress until you get to the office so you’re not walking around with your arms and hands pressed against your thighs for 8 blocks. That just looks silly.
  18. You really shouldn’t complain about your age/weight/salary to somebody who is older/heavier/less successful than you are.
  19. Ex-boyfriends are ex-boyfriends for a reason. NEVER look back because they NEVER change. Unless of course you marry them, then they TOTALLY change. For the worse.
  20. Guess what? You’re going to be 40 someday too.

Carry on.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Mama J!

My friend is having a baby, AHHHHHH!!!!

Sunday night I received two messages from my dear friend in Boise, Idaho! Yes, I do know people who live in Idaho, please don’t ask me why. She has been married for almost three years, yes we do live in different worlds. However, for three years every time I talked to her I asked her if she was pregnant, half joking and half serious. Well ladies and gents, my question's finally been answered. My dear “J” is expecting a little bundle of joy this August. While I’ve been asking the question for years, I apparently wasn't prepared for her to say yes. I was in the kitchen making dinner and I dropped both my knife and my jaw. A child!!!!!!!! A teeny little baby!!!!!!!!! A kid!!!!!!!!! Are you F*ing kidding me???

This is serious, people!! This isn’t like, whoops I got knocked up, what do I do? This was a pre-meditated act. They discussed having a kid, she went off birth control and then BAM, impregnated! She is a little over three months and can feel the little bugger moving around in there, yikes!

Once upon a time when we were fresh out of HS, not a day older than 19, "J" and I were roommates in beautiful Eugene, Oregon (ahhh, we’ll save that for another time. Before Miami of Ohio spit me out, I did dabble in some other activities). We shared a house right on the edge of campus with four other girls and had the time of our life, bitching about the rain and how much we hated Oregon. She was obsessed with pink, smoked more than Snoop and we spent our days sitting on the front steps drinking rum and coke, somewhere in between we did manage to make it to class. One night I broke her window, by accident, and she was a little over-served, that it wasn’t until the next morning she realized she had no window and had slept with glass all over her floor, whoops!

SHE was having a baby, never mind already married, with her Masters, teaching elementary school and living in a 3-bedroom house in Boise!! My world literally had flipped on its axis. How were we the same age? Why was I starting to feel like I was so behind the game? In August, my oldest friend in the world is getting married, “J” is having a baby and I am turning 26!!!! Was it time to hang up my dancing shoes and start leaving the bars before last call and the lights came on?

Tonight I was at work until 7:30, I ate a can of Healthy Choice light soup for lunch and let’s be real, I’m probably going home to watch the stupid Grey’s/Private Practice “cross-over event.” I’m painfully single, not even sure I could pay someone to take me out on a date, have an allergic reaction to children and anything related to pregnancy, I’m not clean or tidy, I don’t do my dishes or laundry often. I’ve been known to buy new socks when I run out rather than cleaning them. Who on earth is going to marry me? Will I be Katherine Heigl, always the bridesmaid, never the bride? Maybe I have Peter Pan syndrome, and I’m doomed to NeverNever Land to live with the lost boys and defeat Captain Hook.

Either way, get ready for the next few months. August is going to be a big, BIG month and we’re going to have to do some recon work.

Attraction is not a choice,

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

I'm having a gchat affair.

Flirting on gchat is just awkward. I find myself twitterpating after every single gchat I send AZ because I'm concerned that my sarcasm won't come through, my line won't be as funny in text as it was in my head, he won't understand that what I'm saying is a joke/isn't a joke. In a world where so much of our lives are lived through text, do our true messages actually come through or are they at the mercy of how they are interpreted in the texto/gchato-sphere?

It was while pondering these thoughts that I realized I am engaged in a full, fledged gchat affair. Not from my end what so ever, but from this guy, let's call him Tokyo, who has a girlfriend and gchats me like it's going out of style. I met this guy a few months ago when he had his current girlfriend. They were having some troubles and after the 3rd or 4th night of hanging out he tried to kiss me. Knowing he has a girlfriend I quickly dodged away from him and ran inside.

Since that moment he has refused to go more than one day without talking to me through gchat. To make things even stranger, he doesn't live in Chicago and has tossed around the idea of coming to visit me to which I quickly replied with a resounding, "Ummm totes no way."

Now that I have a boyfriend, it has almost upped the antee of his gchirting. It's like everything AZ does for me, Tokyo has to explain how he not only did it for his girlfriend, but he did it 10x better. "AZ sent you a dozen roses on Valentine's Day, well I sent my girlfriend TWO dozen roses." "AZ is taking you on a trip, well I'm taking my girlfriend around the world."

I mean come on buddy?! I don't get it, what are you trying to prove? Do you want to wooo me through gchat? Do you escape your pathetic relationship by living vicariously through our gchat banter?

I mean, I get it, you're miserable, you don't like your girlfriend, but you're too co-dependent to dump her so you mindlessly flirt with anything that will pay attention to you because you have no other outlet to channel your un-satisfaction, but seriously find someone else to transfer your unhappiness onto.

Therefore, to remedy this little gchat bee buzzing in my ear, I realized that is why another miracle of modern technology exists: the gchat block.

So Tokyo, I'm sorry to say, but you've just been blizocked.

No one's getting out alive,

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

I heart Valentine's Day.

I don't care how mushy or lame it is, I heart Valentine's Day. I know that it's a Hallmark holiday that was basically constructed to help increase flower and candy sales during a month that is known as "the most depressing month of the year" in which the thermostat usually reads -10, but you know what, I love it.

I think that it is important to pause for a second and reflect on those that you love and I don't think that Valentine's Day needs to be all about your significant other, but to flats' point it should be about those who are in your life that you care about. Which is exactly why flats got a shout out drunk dial at midnight courtesy of Jack Daniels.

Usually, I don't have a Valentine so I'm typically all about that girl power, chicks before dicks sorta mantra, but this year I actually did have one. I am starting to see someone who lives in Arizona, we'll call him AZ for purposes of this blog. He used to live in Chicago so this wasn't some sort of type of situation. He actually is best friends with my cousin from high school I've known him for years.

Anywhoooo, now that I'm done justifying why in God's name I decided to partake in a long distace relationship, AZ actually won a free trip to Playa del Carmen, Mexico earlier this month. And when I say free I mean FREE, para libre, totes everything including, airfare, food, drinks (and not Coca-Cola people, any type of whiskey my liver desires), spa, golf, activities, it's absurd. Shit like this doesn't happen to me and only because it's 11 days away, and him and I talk about it everyday, do I actually believe that it's happening. Part of me kept thinking that whatever golden horseshoe enema I had received in my sleep would lose its charm because the whole thing seems way too good to be true.

Ultimately, though, it ended up that he does have to pay for part of the trip because of taxes or something like that, but he said instead of splitting it, this trip would just be my Valentine's Day present. Therefore on Valentine's Day because AZ, well, lives in AZ, and because of the aforementioned Mexico gift deal I really wasn't expecting anything. Even though I sound like a ridiculous teen, I really do love Valentine's Day and I wanted at least a card or something but I knew nothing was coming my way.

I started the morning by waking up to a text from my FSD wishing me a Happy Valentine's Day, which although incredibly sweet and thoughtful, was secretly hoping that the text would be from AZ. The night before S had been taken to a wonderful dinner at this awesome restaurant called Perennial with her boyfriend and shortly after waking up to FSD's text M got a dozen, beautiful red roses from her Grecian New York lover, so I knew that the romantic in me was going to be a little down since I couldn't even see AZ on the actual day. I decided to go get my hair done to take my mind off of things and by the time I was done with my hair I realized it was five o'clock and not one word out of AZ.

I don't think that I have unreasonably high expectations, and I think that hearing from your boyfriend on Valentine's Day should be kinda a given but I felt myself get more and more bummed as I didn't see my phone buzz with his name. Finally, at six I see my phone light up and its him. At that point I'm so annoyed I don't even want to answer. I was complaining to S about the situation just seconds before and she convinced me to pick up.

Immediately after I did, I regretted it because I knew that I was going to lose my temper as I heard his upbeat greeting as if there wasn't anything wrong with calling your long distance girlfriend at 6pm for the first time on Valentine's Day. Instead, I quickly told him I had to call him back for fear that I would rip him a new one and decided to re-group with S about how to handle it.

S thought I should just call him back and tell him straight up, yo, calling your gf as the sun sets is not kosher so I did just that. He took it in stride but his apology was a tad weak, knowing that I was growing more annoyed by the moment I tried to get off the phone. As I was saying my good byes, the door bell rang.

S ran to go and get it and was greeted by a small, Asian man who was grinning ear to ear. He shoved a giant vase of flowers in her hand and said "He love you." S quickly ripped out the card and realized the He was AZ and the flowers were for me. I couldn't believe that he actually sent them and that I had given him an earful of shit in my pathetic anti-Valentine's Day self loathing. Pretty comical to say the least.

The moral of the story is that Valentine's Day is not only about your significant other, whether you love or hate the holiday. If I wouldn't have been such a spazztastic prom queen about not getting flowers I probably would have enjoyed the day much more. Which is why I decided a night cap of drunk dials to besties and Jack on the rocks was a perfect way to kick cupid's ass for trying to bring a sista down.

No one's getting out alive,

Monday, February 16, 2009

V-Day Conclusion

So Valentine’s Day is finally over!!! I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day, I think it’s sooo stupid. And not b/c I’m single, but because it’s soo cheesy and over the top, it’s just not for me. If my make-believe boyfriend showed up with flowers and chocolates I would throw them in his face and tell him to turn around and come back when he actually knew me. And when did V-Day become such a large holiday, practically a National holiday. If it was on a weekday, I’m pretty sure we would’ve had the day off.

Valentine’s Day was bombarding me, everywhere I looked there it was. First off, practically all my friends are in serious, monogamous, blah blah relationships, so they all had plans for Saturday night.

“30 Rock,” “90210” “Scrubs” and even “CSI” had stupid Valentine’s themes. Cupcakes and cookies were passed around at work on Friday, my mom sent me a V-Day package, my Dad and step mom called to wish me happy V-day, I got two emails from relatives and a vendor sent me a V-day card (don’t even get me started on how weird that was). Couples were walking down the street holding hands with grins from ear to ear; it was as if the sky was full of sunshine and skittles. My roommate is in Australia with her BF and the other received a ginormous bouquet of red roses that are sitting on our counter.

Yet with all this mushiness thrown in my face, I have to say it was one of the best V-days ever. You want to know why? Around 11:30 pm on Saturday night, heels drunk dialed me. Yes, that’s right, you heard me, heels drunk dialed me. I wish I could’ve taped it and played it for you all, because it was hands down the best 20-minute stream of consciousness I’ve ever heard. During the conversation she yelled at me for not going out, told me she missed me (even though she had just seen me at work the day before) then proceeded to tell me how much she loved me, had the dog talk to me and finally asked to be my flower girl in my wedding. Keep in mind I’m painfully single with no BF or wedding in sight, yet she just wanted to make sure she secured some place in the special day. I believe this was her exact quote, “I know I won’t be a bridesmaid or MOH (haha) but I think after everything we’ve been through I think I deserve to have a special role, maybe an usher, or I know YOUR FLOWER GIRL.” Never mind how weird it would be to have a flower girl past the age of seven, I couldn’t even talk I was laughing so hard. I assured her she could be my flower girl, for I was terrified for the reaction if I said no. She then tried to come pick me up in a cab so we could take shots and go to the bars.

I hadn't showered in 24 hours, had not had a sip of alcohol and it was already midnight, how on earth was I going to get out of this one. I finally convinced her that I was actually in a cab on my way to meet her at Kincaid’s, (so that I could get off the phone and go to bed) and she finally let me go!

Although, I have to admit, while I drifted off to sleep, I felt grateful for all my besties out there.

Attraction is not a choice,

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Does anyone else find this mildly disturbing?

Salma's Breast Feeding Bonanza

I understand the whole concept of one world and helping a starving child, but has Salma never heard of a breast pump? I think this woman just wanted to breast feed.

I mean, come on? You are a public persona and you are flapping your nip around like Janet Jackson's nipplegate.

Psychotic Letters From Men

So Bill-do the Weirdo hasn't died yet. I found a new forum for him to live on and it's this awesome blog called Psychotic Letters from Men. I just submitted my first date nightmare of a story to it, hope it makes it to the site!

No one's getting out alive,

Friday, February 6, 2009


For some the day is almost over, but today is National Go Red Day!! In support of the American Heart Association (a client) everyone at work is decked in red and it feels a little Christmasy. Yet, most everyone pulled through and the office is very cheerful!

Every Tuesday/Thursday we have a snack cart that makes its way around the floors offering fruit for free and a plethora of scrumptious candy! I’m not going to lie, it is a high point of my day. In honor of Go Red For Women, we had a special “Friday” snack cart loaded with dark chocolate and red wine, both very heart healthy!

For a $1 donation, you get a glass of merlot or cab and they deliver it straight to your desk. All the proceeds go to AHA, which provides heart healthy scans and medication to protect against heart disease. While it is 6:51 pm on a Friday and I am still at work, I’m not bitter at all. Probably because the left over wine is in the cube next to me and I’ve had a few glasses, mind you they're the size of Dixie cups, so in other words, I’ve had a couple shots of wine.

Yet, the ambiance this late at work is nice and relaxing and I have to think it’s because we’ve not only protected our heart today, but we’ve helped others as well. I know this post is more serous than normal, but I think it’s important to remember the significant things in life! It’s not always fun and games. So for the rest of you, when you get ready to go out tonight, throw on a red pashmina, or a red clutch, or even a red tie, I’m talking to you gentleman, and do your part to show support!

Attraction is not a choice,

Wednesday, February 4, 2009


This is a little over due, but well worth the wait! I recently got back from Sundance, yes as in the Sundance Film Festival. First things first, how can I become a celeb and live the high life? It was absolutely F-ing amazing and I could def. pick up and move to Park City to become a snow bunny. I only made it to one movie, but everything about it beat my expectations. Let me step back for a second, I was there for work, so it wasn’t all glam, parties, drinking, rubbing elbows with celebs and skiing. But it beat sitting in the office any day.

From A-list to D-list I saw them all! Started the week off with the one and only Russell Simmons. To name a few I saw half of Mariah Carey, Michelle Trachtenberg (stupid Gossip Girl slut), Damien from Mean Girls – who is SOOOO much cuter in person, Aubrey O’day, Jeff Daniels, Paul Giamatti, Sam Rockwell, Seth Green, Emma Roberts, Pierce Brosnan, Chris Rock, Bill Hader, Kristen Wigg, Rachel Dratch, Kardashian sisters and Billy Bush. One of the first nights there I finally heard DJ AM spin, if you can I highly recommend, very impressive. Paris showed up and did a “loop” of the party. Surprisingly she looked normal despite the pictures that surfaced of her later in her pink "outfit."

While the above isn’t the most impressive, I saved the best for last. Drum Roll please, KRISTEN STEWART and AMY POEHLER. If you know me at all you know I’d give my left tit to meet Amy Poehler, as Baby Mama is my FAVORITE movie EVER. No joke, I might have an addiction, I’ve watched the thing 10+ times and could recite line for line. I’ve spent countless amounts of money on ON DEMAND watching it, I alone was helping the economy just by purchasing it. I mean who wouldn’t like basically two hours of improv with Amy and Tina, “ohhh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Then there was Kristen Stewart. I got to sit in on her interview with Access Hollywood and let’s just say it’s a good thing it was her and not Edward, as I def. didn’t trust myself being in such proximity to him. This calm and professional 25 year-old would’ve turned into rabid tween begging him to “bite me.” I could feel the blood pulsing through my body, maybe he would sense the increase in my heart beat and show up at my side ready to make me immortal.

Ok, ok, I know, I’m getting side tracked, it’s just so easy! My dream was to meet John Krasinski and I spent all 10 days on a psycho man-hunt for him. Everyone I was with had my number on speed dial and had strict instructions to act immediately and I would come running. I could already see it now, we meet, love at first site and he dumps that skinny twit Emily Blunt for me. “No John, you’re funny,” “No, flats, you’re funnier.” Yet, it never happened. He was aloof and probably got the memo that “psycho brunette from Chicago was on the loose and would stop at nothing to meet JIM.”

Clearly this post explains the below.

Attraction is not a choice,

Bill-do the Weirdo: The Final Farewell

Well fellow bloggers, we have reached a point where we must say farewell to our dear friend "Bill-do the Weirdo." As many of you must have assumed, after last post, BW was on his way out the door after his spazztastic email confessing his love (or whatever the F that was) to me. After circulating the email around my office, since material that good can't be kept to oneself, I really couldn't figure out the best way to respond to him. I was torn because part of me did genuinely feel bad for this kid, but the other part of me was legitimately freaked out by him. So I enlisted the help of S&S, one of my fellow colleagues, who helped me write the most excellent response that I pasted below...

Hi Bill,

Thanks for the email. I appreciate the kind words, but I struggle with what to say as I really don't want to lead you in the wrong direction. While Friday night was quite the experience, I don't see this relationship or friendship (whatever you make of it) going any further.

Please don't think this had anything to do with me just wanting to hang out with my friends on Friday (I live with them and see them daily), it is more a function of who I am and who you are. I just don't see us as a fit. Sorry if this is blunt, but I don't want this to carry on any further.

I wish you the best.

So I guess to all you guys out there who read this blog there are a few lessons to walk away from this with:

1) Berating females with multiple mediums of communication without any sort of reciprocation tyyyypically indicates that, "She's just not that into you."
2) Disclosing personal family emails does not endear women to you, it creeps them out and makes them go out to Home Depot and buy extra locks to install on their windows.
3) Writing a persuasive style email to a love interest enlisting the "reasons" you two should be together based off the ONE conversation you two have had is UNACCEPTABLE. period.

As I close the Bill-do the Weirdo chapter on my life, I'm starting to think that maybe I should start weeding out some of these guys and start focusing on the ones I actually like? Ahhh, I don't care what
flats says, 23 or not, quarter life crises
are hard to figure out! I guess only time will tell, maybe I have another 15 Bill-do the Weirdos headed my way?! On the bright side, I'll have new material for the next 3 years, on the down side my butt might become perma-clenched in an effort to stomach dates like these.

No one's getting out alive,


Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Bill-do the Weirdo: Round Deux

Well, well, well, we all thought we had heard the last from Bill-do the Weirdo, but oh no fellow blog readers, do not fear! We have not heard the last from this fine fellow.

One would think the repeated embarassment of un-returned text messages, phone calls, emails, could possibly result in the termination of communication with said party that refuses to return any form of communication you throw at her, but OH NO!, Bill-do PTI's (powers through it - yea Carls) like the complete freakshow that he is. Let me entertain you all with the email that assaulted my eyes Monday morning....

So I come into work to an army of emails as I usally do on Monday mornings. Although, this Monday was particularly brutal as I had back to back meetings, to dos, requests and was barely getting the chance to catch up. It wasn't until 5:30 pm did I discover this little gem that had alluded me in my inbox all day. This email is so absurd it is truly beyond words, hence why I am just going to share it with you all....

Hey Heels,
I can’t stop thinking about how I mishandled Friday night. I really wish I did so many things different the simplest of which would have been to just let you go out with your friends by yourself after what was a nice dinner. You can’t blame me for wanting to be with you though. I think you are a beautiful, wonderful, caring girl that values her friends and family just as much as I do. When you were describing your friendships, you commented that you were “fiercely close.” It struck a chord with me as just 2 days earlier my father had described me with the same adjective in a note. Look…

(STAY WITH ME --- this is heels. Below is the email that he PASTED into the email he sent me that originially HIS FATHER had sent to him, I told you, I can't make this shit up, continue reading...)

----- Forwarded Message ----
From:Bill-do the Weirdo's Dad
To:Bill-do the Weirdo
Sent: Tuesday, January 20, 2009 10:00:38 PM
Subject: 27

Dear Bill-
Happy Birthday. 27. Wow! I am very proud of you, Bill. You are a great example to our family of commitment and courage.I know that you are very thoughtful and that you keep a lot to yourself. I know that you are resolute in your convictions and fiercely loyal.Those are all good things.We are a stronger family because of you and your devoted love of your Mother. Pray to her, Bill that she guide you and petition for you. She knows what we all need. She is there.S he will never leave you. I am proud of you. I am thankful for you and I love you with all my heart.

(OH NO this email tragedy is not over, don't leave me yet, he CONTINUES with his email below commenting on the dad email HE pasted ABOVE into HIS email that he sent to ME, please continue reading...)

I get that and I respect that. I think we are very similar in nature and have a lot in common and I want to know you better. But you’re right I wasn’t on your page and I would like to better understand what you are looking for at this point in your life. I know you might read this and maybe think I am really nuts and should just walk away but it’s worth the risk of you thinking that for me to express this to you. I think you are just too special to just walk away without really trying, apologizing and having you know how I feel. Please think about it. Have fun at the FBR this week, I hope you have an awesome time and change your mind about golf and change your mind about me too. J Let me know if you do.

~Bill-do the Weirdo
(and YES, he did use the "~" to sign off his email, which should immediately disqualify him as a heterosexual)

PEOPLE...I have literally known this kid for a hot 6 HOURS, if that. I mean, COME ON, in math terms that's 360 minutes, 21,600 seconds, basically a red headed slut compared to a shot of Jame-o, means. absolutely. nothing.

To be honest though, beneath this cold, bitter, bitchy exterior lies a softer heels who actually finished reading the email and was overwhelmed by just feeling plain bad for this kid. I mean this type of obsession/psychotic-ness/fixation, couldn't make me run faster, but this kid is obviously so out of touch with reality that I feel like I'm dealing with Andy Dick in his post Newsradio days when everything was just downhill and if he wasn't peeing on someone at a bar he was found passed out in a gay strip club with two pesos and a shot of cognac glued to his face.

So I'm going to turn the question to all of you, what would you have done if you received an email like this?

I'll let you know what I chose to do (besides immediately filing for a restraining order) in the next post, so stay tuned.

No one's getting out alive,


Thursday, January 29, 2009

The BOOK has black balled me!

For more than a month I have been cut off from the rest of the world, kept under a rock, flung aside like used trash. Facebook rules with an iron fist and they have kicked me out of the club. Back in December I logged on to “the book,” to see what was up, you know the usual, stalk some people, check out new picks, when dooms day hit. “We’re sorry, your account has been disabled by the Facebook team. Have a great day!” WTF, are you kidding me?

Flipping, flying with rage, I immediately emailed Facebook, demanding to know why on earth they kicked me off. What had I done to disparage their name? Nothing, no response. For the next few weeks I email everyone at Facebook I can think of; customer service, sales support, disabled accounts, help, contact us. Again, nothing. It was official, I had been ex-communicated from the book and they didn’t even have the courtesy to let me know. No warning email, no notification. All I wanted was an answer, even a “we’re sorry, you will NEVER be on Facebook again,” would suffice, just give me something, PLEASE!

It’s amazing how important something becomes once it’s taken away. I mean everyone at one point has claimed, “maybe it’s time for me to get off the book.” But come on – who are they kidding? There was like this alternative world that I was not a part of. Sally Smith from 3rd grade ate sushi for lunch and I DIDN’T KNOW it. The smelly girl at work uploaded pictures of her weird looking dog and I DIDN’T SEE them. That creepy guy from the bar poked me and I DIDN’T GET it. Monumental things had happened and I was left out. What if I meet the love of my life and he wants to friend me and I’m not THERE? These things are so silly yet sooo necessary. As someone who spends her days on the computer at work, I NEED these outlets. I NEED them bad. I’ve become obsessed. I have a new understanding of Brit. Things can spin out of control suddenly and I am teetering on desperation.

The new year hits and still no emails. And it’s Facebook, so of course there is no contact phone number. I mean, who actually does business over the phone anymore? And when I finally did track down the number, they took me in circles. “Please email customer service.” Really, I mean really, did they think I hadn’t thought about that? What a genius idea, let me try that.

To make matters worse, to get my Facebook fix, I’ve resorted to logging onto MySpace. Who the hell still goes on MySpace? Ugh I’m so embarrassed to even mention that. It’s like Andre when you want Dom; the poor mans fiddle; the CVS brand shampoo; payless shoes; American Eagle polos; it’s not the real thing! If anyone is listening out there, please, please take pity on me and let me back in the cool club.

Attraction is not a choice,

Monday, January 26, 2009

Excuse me!

I hate to burst heels bubble, but she has two more years until the real quarter-life crisis happens. As someone who recently turned 25 and experienced a mild panic attack and threw herself out of a plane at 14,000 feet, let me tell you the quarter-life crisis is REAL!!

All of a sudden you begin to analyze your life through a different lens and ponder the choices you continue to make. Unlike heels, my two roommates are in some super duper serious relationships. One is closing in on a year anniversary and the other is jetting off to Australia with her beau next month. I often find myself alone and flying solo on the weekend. Aside from them a lot of my friends in Chicago are coupling off pretty quickly, with more than half of them part of a “we.” And last but not least, my bestest friend from childhood is getting married this August!!!!

I am in the wedding and the last few weeks have been filled with emails about dresses and shoes and bachelorette parties. When are you ordering your dress? Are you ordering two to see which one you like best (yes, because I’m made of money)? Do you like these five inch heels (remember, I’m flats)? When can you fly in for the bachelorette party? Can you put the limo on your already maxed out CC? This Saturday while writing my response to her email I had to stop for a second. K, the bride, just turned 26, is in grad school and has been living with her fiancĂ© for three years in domestic bliss. They have a cat, two cars, an adorable clean condo, a guest bedroom (for me) and structure. I, on the other hand, was currently lying on the couch, hung-over from staying out until three in the morning watching “Grey’s Anatomy” and wishing I had chicken nuggets for lunch. How different our lives were! Why did I feel like the immature 12 year old who refused to grow up and get her life in order. One of my favorite shows, “Party of Five,” places Charlie, a 24 year old college drop-out into a responsible roll. He cares for four children under 17, manages a restaurant and is engaged.

I on the other hand, have no boyfriend, haven’t been to the gym in over a month, went to the dentist today and was so numb I was drooling on myself at work, my room is currently under quarantine as I haven’t unpacked from my 10 day business trip, have mail that hasn’t been opened since December, am late paying the cable bill and owe my 18 year old sister $150.

Yet, after all of this, I am quite content with the way my life is. If I want to pick up and move to Park City and become a snow bunny I can. Nothing is holding me back or standing in my way and I am only responsible for myself. In fact, this morning in the Red Eye, my horoscope was dead on:

  • Jupiter is opposite your sign for a whole year. This means that you'll be doing lots of soul searching. "Should I move to Paris and be an artist?" "Should I date three people at once?" "Should I become a lumberjack?" Keep asking questions.

One of my favorite articles is from Newsweek – “I can do anything, so how do I choose?” I keep it tacked up at my desk as a daily reminder to the limitless possibilities that are out there. Maybe my life is sometimes in shambles and spinning out of control, but at the end of the day it’s my life and I can’t complain! Who said when you turn 25 the fun is over? Please, the fun is just beginning!!

Attraction is not a choice,

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Bill-do the Weirdo.

So in my last post I talked about the "promising prospect" I was going on a first date with on Friday and I don't know if my guy-dar is off or wintertime in Chicago brings the freaks out of their igloos, but this was one for the books, let me tell you. After experiences like Friday night, most people would want to hang up their dating hats, buy a cat named Sprinkles, take up knitting and call it a day. I, on the other hand, not only love these dates, but they provide me with enough fabulous, butt-clenching material for weeks to come. So blogosphere, let me introduce you to the nightmare known as "Bill-do the Weirdo."

I met Bill-do last Sunday at Stanley's when my roomies and I were having a Sunday Funday. My room mates were at the bar grabbing drinks and I was hanging back, awkwardly people watching because I didn't really feel like chatting up the bartender, when said "first date nightmare" entered my life.

He seemed nice enough and confidently strode up to me and struck up a conversation, so I thought to myself, I'm willing to give this guy 5 minutes of my time. It ended up that we had a bunch of stuff in common, both Irish Catholic, both have two siblings, both went abroad to Spain, you get the picture, and I actually started to tune in and give this guy a legitimate chance. We ended up chatting for a while and as I was about to call it a night, I found myself hoping he would ask for my number. As we headed towards the door, he blundered through his amateur attempt to score my digits. To prevent myself from further suffering from his symphony of stutters, I quickly spouted off my number and hopped in a cab, success, or so I thought.

Knowing that hindsight is 20/20, there were definitely signs that this guy was going to be a head case, but since I am trying to "get back out there" and give dating a real chance, I thought that I would just roll with it and hope for the best. (life lesson #1,093,657: Never just "roll with it," This guy was a grade A freakshow and I should have listened to my gut)

Since I would like to prevent others from suffering through such disasterdom, I thought I could bullet out some precursors that hinted towards the verbal diarrhea Bill-tack he eventually sprung on me...

Bill-do the Weirdo Warning Signs:

  • After I gave him my number, he texted me not :37 seconds later, "You're awesome -- billy." You're awesome? Did I meet Ted from Hey Dude by a mistake? Get real brotha' man.
  • The next day he texted me, "Doing some reading before class, but all I can do is think about you." Reet, reet, reet, PSYCHO! Like are you for reals? You met me a hot 8 hours ago and all you can do is think of me? You need to get a hobby, or a friend, or both.
  • Apparently said advice was not taken, he neither got a friend nor hobby, because he had plenty of time to begin badgering me with emails. Apparently, texting wasn't enough but we had to bring our relationship into Outlook. AND these emails were not just any kind of email mind you, they were emails riddled with :) AND this ;) and more exclamations than my eyes ever wanted to see. The subject of his very first email was ":)." I mean, come on, I couldn't make this shit up. I couldn't believe it, I felt like god was playing a cruel trick on me because we all know how I feel about textual smiley faces and that feeling is not good.

Upon reflection, I should have totally bailed. But even with all of these warning signs I forged ahead and planned to show up on Friday night. He picked a good restaurant, Hub 51, so I was excited for that. I realized now that no amount of food was worth the boredom of Bill-do.

First off, he ordered Bud in a can and me a Miller Light bottle. I'm not a snob, but we are at a nice restaurant in a city, we aren't going muddin' down on Blue Hole Road, order a beer, that comes in a glass, like a grown ass man.

He then proceeded to talk about himself for the entirety of the dinner, where he grew up, what his first job was, the names of his brothers and sisters, where he went to college, why he went to college there, I don't even think the guy knows my last name. I was literally counting the minutes till the date ended. When I thought I couldn't take the montage of stories anymore, I excused myself for the bathroom and sent S and M an emergency text that I needed some rescuing.

Once I returned to the table, we started trying to figure out what we were going to do for the rest of the night. I tried to ditch him like a bad habit, but he was impossible to shake. At that point, I knew I needed an intervention. So I told him that my roomies were at Zed 451 and we could go and meet them there. I knew that once I put him within S and M's talons, I would be able to ditch this dud and have a good night with my friends.

I didn't realize how easy this feat was going to be accomplished. We were at Zed for a mere 15 minutes when he pulls me aside and tells me that he "has to talk to me." I thought to myself, oh this should be good, what's wrong with him now? Does he want to tell me another enrapturing story about his upbringing?

He went on to tell me for a solid 5 minutes, how I wasn't paying enough attention to him, that he came here to spend time with me, I was only talking to my room mates, that was unfair and inconsiderate, blah, blah, blah. Newsflash BUDDY -- I don' t like you! I'm not talking to you because you are like talking to robot on crack who just keeps talking and talking and doesn't stop. Sorry but I think my ears are actually bleeding at this point, please leave me alone.

I didn't say any of this, because I didn't have the chance. After he got done lecturing me, he stormed out. I couldn't believe my eyes, it was perfect! I had unloaded this Bill-do thing and I didn't have to do anything!

I went back to our table and entertained my girlfriends with what just happened and after a few minutes of solid laughter, we decided to change scenes and headed over to English for a fabulous rest of the night.

I woke the next day with not one, not two, but three texts from Bill-do explaining how he is so sorry that he "unraveled" last night, that he is so "pissed at himself" and could we "talk?" Talk? Talk! Are you f-ing kidding me?! No I don't want to talk, you are Bill-do the weirdo to me now, there's nothing to talk about.

I didn't respond to his texts because there really wasn't anything I had to say to him. That was a mistake because then he upped the antee and started calling and leaving voicemails. I finally texted him back saying no worries about last night, just think we are on different pages, have a good rest of the weekend sort of thing. Instead of being like, wow, she was cool about me being a creepo, he sends back a spazztastic text of "Oh fine then. Let me know if I can ever be on your page. All the best." UGH. gross.

Well Bill-do the weirdo, thanks for the lovely sea bass covered in a delicious horseradish broth, it was scrumptious, really. Needless to say, you won't be hearing from me again.

No one's getting out alive,


Thursday, January 22, 2009

Quarter life crisis.

Hello 2009,

So we both have been pretty bad about posting lately. Everyone makes those nagging New Year's resolutions, exercise more, eat better, stop smoking, cut back on drinking, and ironically mine was to post more. Clearly, that NYR hasn't been followed so well on my end but hell, January 22 is better late than never. 

I think part of my posting stagulation has been the fact that I've been thinking a lot lately about "quarter life crises'" and the best way to flush these thoughts out into a post. I've realized though that this self-examination should just give way to extemporaneous writing, and instead of plotting a witty rant about the intricacies of being a 20 something year old female in a metropolitan city, it's better to just type it out, so here I go.....

On the eve of a first date with a promising prospect, I can't help but think I'm a 23 year old female who lives in a fabulous city, with two of her best friends from college, working exactly where I want to be working, but finding myself completely lost as to what the next steps are going to be. Do we keep climbing the corporate ladder? Do we go off and teach English in some small hut in the jungles of Indonesia? Do we find a boyfriend? Do we even care to think about boyfriends?

For the first time, we are utterly free in the sense that we earn our own income and are completely capable of sustaining ourselves. There's no mom or dad to answer to, no school work to turn in, we just need to show up to work, do our best and call it a day. 

Realizing this, I started analyzing my friends and thinking about what people girls our age feel like they need to "answer to." Through my self-induced anthropological study, I've discovered the only restrictions I ever see my friends put on themselves is when they feel like they need to answer to the significant others in their lives.

See, here in this apartment, that's not so much a problem. We are all brilliantly single without a constraint in the world, but I wonder, as time passes, is that a good thing? 

It's wonderful to live and be completely free, but is it okay to wander through life without any sort of inhibitor or anyone standing by you to say, "Hey it's NOT okay for you to blackout and start dancing on the bar," or "Baby, you know how much I love you, but drinking a bottle of wine on a TUESDAY isn't the best idea." I think to myself, is it possible to keep cruising through life without any sort of lifeline dictating the socially appropriateness of your behavior, but yourself?

Because, let's be honest, your best girlfriends are your biggest advocates. I know my two, we'll call them S and M, are the first ones to support whatever absurd thought that pops into my head. On a Monday, when I've had a really stressful day at work, and I turn to them and say, "Hey, so I'm going to pick up three bottles of wine, do you guys have anything to do tonight?," S is grabbing the corkscrew and M is grabbing three wine glasses. 

The conundrum is, does this enabling help you figure it out more or does it just allow you to think that your behavior is okay?

Two of my old friends from high school just recently got engaged and I can't help but think that maybe this is something I should be striving for, but to be honest, I couldn't be farther from it. I think of an engagement ring, and although there were so many times that I have dreamt about the day it would actually happen, it makes me feel like I would be selling myself short at this juncture in my life.

Ultimately, as I peel through all these thoughts and try to figure out what I want my 2009 to be, I realize that if it wasn't for my S and M I wouldn't be nearly as happy as I am today. No boy, no male partner, no significant other will ever replace those girls who are in your corner, no matter what happens. Whether I'm walking down Halstead after leaving Kingston Mines and fall in the street or at home analyzing a first date, S and M will be there to pick me up and listen.

I've never been one for cliches, I've never liked pink, I don't like pantyhose, and I've certainly  never been one for "Gurls rule, Boys drool," but if I am going to be lost in a quarter life crisis, I wouldn't take any other way than having S and M by my side.

No one's getting out alive,