REDEFINING THE TERM "WEIRD F-ING DAY"

Lizzle has her fair share of average days... in fact, Lizzle might have what one refers to as a plethora of average days. It's true. But then, out of the blue, notability (and occasionally greatness) thrusts itself upon one of Lizzle's days...This was one of notability, not of greatness.

First off, it was St. Patrick's day... We Chicagoans love any reason to drink beer, let alone dye it green. So with that in mind, I'll tell you all about my weird day.

I awoke about 10 minutes before my alarm was set to go off because my phone was ringing... fortunately, this time it wasn't my dad calling. Instead it was an A.M. drunk dial from my favorite Irishman, Kirsten McLinden. We chatted as I prepared for the day, and it was good. (As I've said before in the rules of phone ettiquite, it is OK if you wake me up from a pleasant slumber ONLY in the event of death, emergency, or drunk dial.)

I took the Drama midterm I mentioned to you kids before, and that went off with relative ease... I was thrilled to note that we got to pick which plays we wanted to write about with regard to each question. (And since we only had to answer one question, and address only 2 plays no matter which question we picked, and since I'd only read 2 plays, I was pretty frickin happy.)

I then skipped history for a VERY valid reason, and later came to regret it anyway... DAMMIT.

I utilized my extra time gained from skipping history to return home in the middle of the day... (This is when the true weirdness begins)

As I was walking home, I was hit on by a sandwich.....

Please re-read that last sentence and give it a chance to sink in. (I'll wait)

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Yes, I was hit on by a SANDWICH. (*And no, I am not on high doses of psycho-reactive substances.)

I know that this is only something that could happen in the city, and specifically could only happen to me in reality, but I still find this somewhat disturbing and yet somehow amusing.

(*It is also strangely indicative of Lizzle's current state of affairs, but we won't get into all that.)

So here's the scene for you: I'm walking home, I leave the El and walk towards Broadway. I wait for the light, and as I'm waiting I hear a booming voice projected over a bullhorn. Upon closer attention, the voice is specifically talking to me... And it is asking for my phone number.

And who is holding the bullhorn asking for my phone number? A SANDWICH.

First off, who gets hit on while crossing Broadway?
Secondly, who gets hit on while crossing Broadway over a bullhorn?
And finally, who gets hit on while crossing Broadway over a bullhorn being used by a SANDWICH?

ME. That's who.

(This is yet another reason I need a reality show... but I digress.)

So I decide for some strange reason that I do need to attend my psych of learning and behavior class... though now, I can't think why.

After class, I went to work.At work, I took the lovely pictures you see displayed below, and made plans to go out in celebration of St. Patrick. (I love that green-wearin' leprachaun jackass!)

After work, I spent my pre-drinking time wisely by combining my drinkin with my computer skill, (because like Kip Dynamite, I love technology,) and I founded the newest addition to the internet www.freebarry.blogspot.com. (Yes, I am a huge nerd, thank you for noticing.)

I then met up with some crazies at the bars in Wrigleyville, where I am told that one of the drink slingers apparently found me attractive,(though, looking at my pictures, I can't imagine why.)

And after a few rounds at the bar, the group broke up... Shane wanted to go to a different bar, Jamie decided to go home so that she could make it to her AM practice, and J-Dub... well, I don't really know what happened to J-Dub. Suffice it to say that she said she'd meet us at O'Malleys and she never showed. So it ended up being me, and Shane... and all of Shane's hoes.

So, you wanna talk about a weird day, let's recap the significant points of my St. Patty's:

• Wake up with a drunk dial
• Take a crappy midterm.
• Skip a class I hate and end up regretting it.
• Get hit on by a SANDWICH
• Attend a class I never go to
• Go to work where evening plans are made
• Spend pre-drinking time developing a new webpage advocating the release of Barry Schuester.
• Meet up with an odd assortment of people at the bar.
• Finish out the night hanging out with retired underwear model, Shane Davis
• Kiss some boy by the name of Rich, because it's St Patty's and I'm 25% bloody Irish.
• Walk a long way to an el stop because in Lincoln park it's safe to do it.
• Come home and recount the day's events for all of you fine folks.

Only I go from a come-on by a sandwich, to hanging out with an underwear model, to kissing a random guy named Rich, to walking home alone... WOW.