Here's a super-sized post for you... You better make it last!

Ok, so as you all know I am moving to my new home... Only a few blocks away from my current home.

The move means that internet will not be something that I will have regular easy access to. (At least for a few days. You see, my old building includes internet access for free as a feature of the units... My new home opts for affordability and an elevator instead.) So until I have a chance to set up an appointment to have internet installed, posts might be a little light, occasional, or non-existent... Get over it.

To try to ease you into the pain of lizzle-cake-withdrawal, I am composing a super post for you! (basically an expanded version of my ramblings posts which seem to carry favor with a fair portion of my readership)

Here goes nothin!

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Tonight I tried a "Take 5" bar for the first time... I am not really a big fan of candy bars in general, (hence why this one remained unopened in my bag for a couple weeks) but if you get a chance and you are not allergic to peanuts, I recommend that you give this a try... I was pleasantly surprised.

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I was killing time earlier and I happened across a blog where a person took a couple pictures of her toes... Considering I have at least one regular reader who is a foot fetishist, I thought of this as an amusing little added feature...

I am thinking that I will run around as I tend to do, and snap a picture of my feet wherever I am... Kind of narrating where I hop along during my weeks..

So occasionally you will see a picture of my feet.

The official title of this occasional feature is "This is where my toes go..."

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The other day while I was standing on a street corner, (I was waiting for the light to change, not "peddling my wares") I saw something that really amused me. A straight looking man who was at least 50 years old, and at least 275 lbs, balding, and smoking a cigar, riding a vespa scooter.

I was amused because it's pretty hard to look manly on a vespa... even with a big phallus hanging out of your mouth.

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While packing, I got to thinking... artsy people own some really RANDOM, weird stuff. I've run across many a fellow artist who had some weird nonsense in their home that kind of defied explaination... I know I certainly own several such items, including but not limited to:

• A raggedy old three pane window that someone threw out.
• A plush (think plush as in stuffed animal) cucumber that talks when you hit it.
• GIANT pink sunglasses.
• 144 plastic hawaiian leis.
• A hand puppet in the shape of a hamster.
• A jar that once contained BBQ, but now contains assorted colors of sea glass.
• 2 ping pong balls... despite the fact that I have only played ping pong a total of approximately 5 times in my entire life.
• A golf ball that I keep in the freezer.

It's really weird the stuff you amass over time.

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You know how you occasionally hear something that makes you examine the grand social scene? Well I heard one of those things today.

It was with regard to how our society thinks that guns are ok, and that it's perfectly natural to have one in the home, and they regularly appear in television and film... Meanwhile nudity is ultra-taboo (don't believe me about the term ULTRA-TABOO? Just look at Janet Jackson).

We are a society that readily embraces images of people killing, maiming, and hurting one another, but Susie Homemaker gets all in a tizzy because a boob was flashed for a half a second on network television??? Which one do you think is going to more easily have a negative impact on Susie's innocent children? A continuous influx of violent imagery condoning human violence against one another, or a quick flash of a nipple shield?

Considering boobs are a natural occurence and that little girls will get them, and little boys will want to see them, I'm thinking it's not the nipple shield.

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In the last few days I've figured out that I do have some favorite people!

• Mom (obviously she holds the number one spot without question or opposition)
• MelJoy - because she helped me move multiple carloads of stuff the other evening... and she's a regular reader/commenter which gets bonus points in my book
• Ciara -because she loaned me her vehicle to transfer the rest of my life into my new home.
• Nate - because he will be helping me with moving the last bit of furniture into my new home
• My sister Kim's boyfriend Thomas - because he gets liquor at cost, so my family reunion drinking will be fabulously cheap!
  

I also have developed a shit list...

• Mendez - Because she has continually found ways to bail on me after offering to help me with my move. (I love you girl! Really I do, and I appreciate the one carload you helped with, but bailing on me 3 times, no matter the circumstances, has you in the dog house for a bit.)
• My brother - for never visiting me at any point during my college career.
• Dave - for once again falling off the face of the earth.
• The CTA - for being a bunch of bastards.

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Yeah, once again I have a rant pertaining to the CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) personnel.

You might remember my recent anger at a certain CTA staffer who thought just because he HAD a dick he needed to BE a dick. The other day I had another such experience.

*Side note: since I don't need/have a car here in the city, I am dependent on public transit... it sucks but I'm ok with it most of the time... please don't make fun of me.

Here's the scene: I was on my way to work, and I had to transfer from one bus to another, and as the first bus I take was pulling away, the second bus I take was pulling up to the stop... I was unfortunately in a rather precarious position of having to navigate 2 crosswalks in order to catch that bus before it pulled away... otherwise I'd be forced to wait 30-45 minutes for the next bus (the sign says 15-20 minutes, but I'll believe that when I see it!) So... The I had the signal in my favor for the first crosswalk, which meant the second was NOT. Since traffic was particularly light at this particular moment, and I was rather desperate, I jogged across the street, against the signal... never in any remote danger of being struck by a motor vehicle.

I board the bus, only to have the bus driver yell at me!

Asshole CTA driver: "THAT WASN'T VERY SMART, WAS IT!?!?!"
Liz: "No, I know, but..."
Asshole: "THAT'S WHAT THEY ALL SAY... 'I KNOW, BUT...'"
Liz: "Well they all say that because dickhead drivers like you don't wait for us to cross with the signals... and if they're saying it, then they obviously made it across without getting killed... so how about you stop lecturing me and drive the bus?"
Asshole: [stunned silence]

Assholes just never know what to say when they run into a normal person willing to be an asshole right back at them.

Vindication is mine!

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In the last few days I have seen some of the ugliest shoes and bags in god's creation.

Bitches, just because it's spring doesn't mean you've gotta track down the ugliest shoes and purses to sport!

What ever happened to a classic black or brown bag? (Maybe something raffia in the summer with leather accents/straps?) When were the classics replaced by day-glow pink-patent-leather- with-white-polka-dots monstrosities that I catch people with nowadays?

And since we're on the subject of bags,

BITCHES, STOP BUYING BAD KNOCKOFFS!

If you're going to spend 20 bucks on a bag, instead of 400, don't try to look like you spent 400+ ... your busted-ass Louis Vuitton knockoff does not make you look like J-Lo or whoever the fuck is hustling you bitches for all your money by convincing you that you need an expensive bag to demonstrate your value as a human being... If you feel the need for your bag to make such a statement about you, and your self worth, then you better be spending the real money on the real thing.

I'm not saying that I don't own designer bags... I do, but mine are real, and I bought them because they are quality products, tastefully done in classic styles, thus they will be regularly used and not easily go out of style. (And because you can sure as hell bet that I got them well below retail despite being REAL.) I did not buy them to assure myself or anyone else of my value as a person... That's no reason to BUY anything but a therapy session.

Enough said.

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I have taken the time to create a new page for the posts that don't really have a place here... here's my explaination:

Ok, so I was sitting in my poetry class, and I got to thinking... "Hey I write poetry... where would I put that?"

So I was thinking that I do write a lot of other stuff that has no real place on my main page, where you are currently reading this lovely post.

The main concept behind the original happy hour is to recount fun tales of drunkenness, debauchery, and general amusement. (basically it's good for a few laughs.)

This means that posts that are very cerebral, (brainy,) very emotional, very artsy, etc. have no real place here. They just don't fit in with the overall theme.

So to accomodate the additional writings, I am opening up a new forum for the occasional supplemental materials that don't make the cut for the original happy hour.

The new site is: www.happyhourtoo.blogspot.com

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QOTD -
"My favorite was when we were scarfing down our Wendy's even as we pulled up to the drive-thru at Burger King... They should totally do a 'Supersize Me' documentary about us!" ~Leah talking to Mel about their fast food adventures.

(Talking about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes)
Liz: "He is such a tool... that shit ain't natural... I'm telling you, he's GAY and someone is threatening to out him... this is totally a PR thing."
Leah: "Really? You think that? I like him!"
Liz: "No way it's real. She's totally his beard."
Chrissy: "Yeah he is weird."
(Funny because she misheard... but still managed to agree)

(With regard to my new page.)

Saw this, and it made an impression... give it a thought!

I found this somewhere and felt the need to post it here... with a couple of edits to make it more easily understandable and (slightly) amusing.

I am lame for finding this funny... I know.

I'm sure this will offend someone... I am not one of those people... I thought it was funny enough to post here!

In light of all the scandal in the church of late, this really is a very poorly designed stained glass window... It's shit like this that ensures my place in hell

Damage control.

Damage control was supposed to be the overall idea for the day. The main line of thinking was just to get our racks into shoppable shape, and control damage that the customers did as much as possible... Instead, I managed to do some damage of my own... to myself... EARLY. (This did not set a positive tone for the rest of what turned out to be a rotten day.)

Picture it: Ciara and I are at work, it's about 9:30 - (Work literally began only half an hour before) and C and I are trying to get our carts to the front so that customers can shop off of them. C has a cart of hanging baskets or something and I am dragging a 1000 lb cart of seed geraniums. For some reason I stopped, and despite my best efforts, the cart did not stop... this means it kept rolling... rolling right into my achilles. Now when 1000 lbs of steel and live plants rolls into any part of the body, there is potential for injury... When it rolls into/over a body part as non-padded and sensitive as the achilles, injury is pretty much a certainty. (I have always hated geraniums... this just further fuels my disdain for them)

After lots of cursing and a few tears, we checked things out and while skin was only minimally broken, other damage had been done. Bruising and swelling ensue. Working the next 7.5 hours with this is not fun, let me assure you.

Fast forward to roughly 2:30, (in the meantime I have managed to hurt my hands and get a giant splinter,) and we recently returned from lunch and nature is calling... instead of watching me hobble through the store, C decides it would just be better to put me on a flatbed push cart and roll me to the ladies room... this is utterly humiliating, but I was more willing to be humiliated than to suffer the pain of hobbling over there myself (it is a considerable distance), so I let her push me. We definitely got some funny looks.

Shortly after our return from the facilities, we were definitely visited by Craig (My boss' boss) and I felt like a total tard for standing there watering when there was obviously a lot more that needed to be done... but, physically, watering was all I could manage without crying. He seemed fairly understanding about it though.

What a rotten day! (At least I got paid time and a half for it!)

None of this would've happened if I were in St. Maarten with Michael K.

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QOTD
Liz: "I am corrupt."
Doris: "No you aren't"
Liz: "Oh I am... I am a total deviant"
Doris: "Heck no... well maybe ...but in a good way!"

OOPS!

My apologies to my party guests.

I came home from work and sat on my bed with the intention of closing my eyes for a few minutes before having a shower and getting ready for the evening's festivities, and the next thing I know it's 11:30. I slept through my own party. (This makes me either totally lame, or one very hot bitch! ...You decide.)

A special apology goes out to Meljoy who called a total of 8 times during my nap to find out where the hell I was... (Phone was in a jacket pocket in the other room, it didn't wake me!) I still owe you drinks, and I will repay the debt very soon!

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Work is carrying on as usual, although business seems a little light considering it is Memorial Day weekend... but I won't complain, as fewer customers means fewer people to clean up after.

I have a theory that I have devloped on the job, and that is that bad shoppers are the products of bad parenting. (My flower-slinging coworkers have heard this theory, so feel free to skip if you already know about this)

Anyway, for the rest of you, here is why bad parenting is the reason for my work-day misery; When you were a little kid, and you played with a toy, and then finished playing with it, or got something off the shelf at the grocery store, and your parents didn't want that item, what did you do with it? If you are the product of good parenting you said "I put it back where I found it." Home Depot customers are all products of bad homes apparently because they seem unable to wrap their feeble minds around the concept of replacing an item to it's origins... seriously, it only takes a few seconds. I'm not asking you to carry a hippopotamus on your shoulders, or anything of similar stressful effort... I'm just asking you to walk those extra four steps and put the damn petunias you picked up back with the other petunias, rather than lazily dropping them amongst the begonias. Lousy bums.

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QOTD -
Liz: "I saw Warren and his boyfriend today!"
Dana: "Oh, and how's the boyfriend? Big tough guy?"
Liz: "He was more feminine than Warren, but adorable."
Dana: "So based on what I know about Warren, nobody really 'wears the pants' in that relationship... and if anything, someone is just wearing coullottes."

You bitches know I'm a VIP.

Yeah, it's true. I'm a VIP no matter where I go, but in case I have not mentioned it to you personally I have a VIP party this weekend. Yeah, those crazy folks at Hi-Tops love my punk ass so much that they are giving me another free party! We've been through this before, but here's what you need to know:

Where: Hi-Tops bar; 3551 N Sheffield Ave, Chicago.

When: Saturday night beginning at 8.

Why: Because I rock at life.

Other pertinent details: If you have not attended one of my numerous previous VIP parties, here's what you need to know - tell the doorman you're there for my party. (Just drop my name.) No cover for my guests from 8-10 and an open bar for my guests from 9-10. You can tell your friends and they can come too. And have them tell their friends... Bring/tell as many people as you like. All they need to know is that they are there for Liz's party.

This is a Wrigleyville bar. Please dress accordingly and have apropriate ID. (The party starts early, I know, but the free booze just gets you loosened up to head elsewhere later... We're hoping to make it a rockstar effort.)

Be good, and I'll see you bitches on Saturday!

Ode to a blue-eyed boy...

Ok, this is not so much and ode to the boy, but a proclaimation of "DAYUM!"

That poetry class I mentioned to you kids a couple posts back, has a very cute boy in it.

He was not in the class on Tueday. He sauntered in late today.

He has very pretty blue eyes...

I think I'm gonna like this class.

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I've noticed lately that while my cursing habit has lessened, it has been replaced by an increased number of lude remarks. I am aware that I spout lude remarks with great ease and regularity anyway, but these are frequent and bad even by my standards!

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As I waited for the train on the el platform, some lecherous old man looked at me and said, "You're a cutie!" He then gave me an unsavory once-over and mumbled something to himself... I was kinda creeped out by that. - Just thought I'd mention it so that when my male readers become older men themselves they realize that this technique is creepy rather than attractive.

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(We've been really hurting for quotes lately... fortunately in the last day or so we've had a few winners!)

QOTD

"I think I was switched at birth... I'm really royalty... I'm far too delicate to be a commoner... Somewhere there is a royal family with a commoner child, and they keep wondering why he has bad skin and back fat." ~Michael K. on being a royal baby switched at birth, forced from his rightful position in life.

"Walt Whitman? Oh, yeah he was as gay as a tea party... What? They didn't teach you that in high school? ...Talk about deficiencies in the educational system!" ~ Sherrie

Liz: [Impressive, although disgusting, loud/long belch] "Wow! Excuse me! I don't know where that came from, kinda snuck up on me!"
Nate: "Was that what I think it was?"
Liz: "Yeah, sorry about that!! REALLY!!"
Nate: Sorry, nothin! If I were over there I'd give you a high five for that one!"

A prayer for those with men in their lives...

Dear Lord,

I pray for Wisdom to understand my man;
Love to forgive him;
And Patience for his moods.
Because, Lord, if I pray for Strength,
I'll beat him to death.

AMEN

(Thanks Kim.)

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Contrary to my plans I didn't get shit done in the last two days.

Where does the time go?

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Nothing else of interest to say at the moment. Won't bore you.

Welcome to God's Pantry...

My cousin's son, at the tender age of 5, has everything figured out. He thinks that when you go to heaven you get to go into God's pantry and help yourself to anything you like... He also says that Pope John Paul II was not bound for God's pantry. (That part of the story requires a little explaining, but suffice it to say that it was really entertaining to hear that the pope didn't make the cut)

you really gotta hand it to kids, they are an honest bunch, and they will always find a way to say some things in a way that will throw you for a loop.

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41 things: (I got this in an e-mail and the questions posed were interesting so I decided to post my replies here... Feel free to reply as well.)

1) My uncle once: Stabbed my grandpa with a fork to get the last porkchop.

2) Never in my life: have I knowingly broken someone's heart.

3) When I was five: I was envious of my big brother because he got to go to school and I didn't... now that I am done with school many years later I can't understand why I was jealous.

4) High school was: a place I never felt like I fit in.

5) I will never forget: my mother's love.

6) I once met: Prince. (among others.)

7) There's this girl I know who: after knowing me for a semester named her new car after me.

8) Once at a bar: I tackled one of my best friends in a blind-drunken-stupor and did some serious damage to my chin... as well as getting us tossed from the bar. (Shameful I know, but it was a birthday weekend!)

9) By noon I'm usually: slinging flowers.

10) Last night: didn't get enough packing done.

11) If only I had: all the answers... and a puppy.

12) Next time I go to church: I'll be only a block from my home. (new home is very close to church)

13) Terry Schiavo: died a tragic and divisive death.

14) I have a confession to make: I have put multiple toothbrushes in toilets... Meredith's is the only one I have ever admitted to until now.

15) When I turn my head left: Naked walls (because my pictures are in boxes.)

16) When I turn my head right: Boxes full of my belongings.

17) You know when I'm lying when: I stop short... I am pretty honest, if I stop short of saying something it's because I'm thinking of a nicer way to say it... (as close as I get to lying)

18) Everyday I think about: how nice it would be if I didn't ever have to worry about money.

19) If I were a character written by Shakespear I'd be: a tempestuous sprite... I'm not sexual enough to be a leading lady. (That ol' Billy was big on very sexual leading ladies)

20) By this time next year: I'll be 23 and likely no closer to where I want to be in life.

21) A better name for me would be: ...I think my name fits. If I gotta pick a new one, then Crap Bag. (Think "Friends" episode.)

22) I have a hard time understanding: people who are content in their own ignorance.

23) If I ever go back to school I'll: *WHEN I go back to school, I'll go to class more.

24) You know I like you when: I whisper smart-ass comments to you on the sly.

25) If I won an award the first person I'd thank is: My Mom, no question.

26) Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens & Geraldine Ferraro: are better role models than Britney Spears.

27) Take my advice, never: say never.

28) My ideal breakfast is: Pancakes with butter and syrup, and 2 strips of turkey bacon.

29) A song I love, but do not have is: The Used - "All That I've Got"

30) If you visit my hometown, I suggest: You be careful of those idiot drivers and since you're there, you might as well eat something.

31) Tulips, character flaws, microchips & track stars: don't have a whole lot in common.

32) Why won't anyone: just hand me millions of dollars and tell me to go out and pursue what makes me happy.

33) If you spend the night at my house: You'd likely hear the noises of the lesbians upstairs.

34) I'd stop my wedding for: I'm getting married??

35) The world could do without: Stupid people, crime, stupid people committing crimes, and hate.

36) I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: uhhhh, I'd rather not lick the belly of a cockroach, but if it's between that and EATING the cockroach, I'll lick it.

37) My favorite blonde is: Grace Kelly

38) Paper clips are more useful than: ...licking the belly of a cockroach

39) If I do anything well: you're likely to find out about it when I'm drunkenly babbling.

40) The last time I was drunk: I did not make out with anyone.

41) And by the way: I think we all work too hard... (Except Marco, we all know he doesn't work too hard)

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Despite my recent matriculation (great word) I am in an intro to poetry class... And I really like it!

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Upon leaving class today I ran into several people I know. One of these people was a guy who *AHEM* scorned me a while back... I looked fabulous and he looked like hell. Why am I pleased by this?

Oh well... I relish little victories.

Life without television...

Moving into a new place without a roommate to split the bills with kinda puts things into perspective... (By "Things" I mean television and internet.)

I've never really been a HUGE fan of television. My television viewing has always in fact been pretty limited. (This is not to imply that the tv was on for a limited amount of time... quite the opposite was true.) But when the television was on, 90% of the time I was doing something else, like reading a book, sleeping, folding laundry, or as odd as it might sound - listening to music. (I've always had a thing for background noise.) When I was paying attention to what was on the screen, it's generally regarded as a safe bet that it was one of four things -

1. ESPN/televised sports programming
2. Re-runs of *M*A*S*H
3. Re-runs of Law & Order
   
4. Crime related programming on A&E

• (The two favorite show exceptions are A&E's show INTERVENTION and Bravo's show Project Runway)

Since the untimely death of my television I have found that tv is not the necessity I once thought it was. I used to fall asleep with the TV on a sleep timer, just so there was a familiar noise to drown out the goings-on in the alley, or the noises emanating from the apartment belonging to the lesbians upstairs as they did GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT! I have found that this situation is easily remedied by playing music or movies on my computer.

Everything else has kind of fallen by the wayside... The re-runs were getting to the point where I was regularly catching re-runs of the re-runs I watched fairly recently, so that was unnecessary. The news has long been nothing but kidnappings, murders, war, and corporate raping of the world, so I can do without that.

And the sports? Well, to be honest, I miss the sports. But for big games I can make it to a bar, and for the rest, I get scores online and on my phone, so there's no big crisis there.

Internet is something I will not be able to do without... I think this is clear. I must have internet, if for no other reason than to entertain the few people who actually read MY daily contribution to the global-information-dump-site that is the internet. I also need SOME source of entertainment, as books get frickin EXPENSIVE! - If it comes down to paying 30 bucks a month for internet service, or buying one book (two if they are on sale) you can bet that I'm going to get WAY MORE value out of my internet connection! (After all, in addition to all the other fun things, there are full-text e-books online!) I am also semi-addicted to AIM, so, there's always that.

So that's that - I don't need cable. I do need internet. PERIOD.

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For those of you who don't already know, I am without my own personal automotive transportation, (as it is unnecessary and expensive in the city,) so I am reliant on friends and public transportation... Today I took a PACE bus for the first time in a long time. (The last time I took a PACE bus was damn near 4 years ago, and as I'm about to illustrate it was a very different experience.)

Most days I hop a train or a CTA bus to work - CTA busses and trains are usually littered with assorted grubbies, trash, bits of food people leave behind, graffiti, etc. The colors are drab, and the seats are molded plastic with stained bits of "padding" that would be regarded as short-pile carpet anywhere else.

4 years ago when I took the PACE bus, it was pretty much the same story as the CTA, but with an added stripe of yellow in places. Today was dramatically different!

Today the PACE bus happened by, and it happened to be running fairly close to where I was going, so I took a chance. I am quite sure that when I boarded the bus the driver thought there was something wrong with me... as my eyes widened in amazement at what I saw before me.

The bus was PRISTINE. No graffiti, no grubbies, no trash, no mystery smells. Nothing! And the seats were not only more luxuriously spaced, they were UPHOLSTERED! And I mean REALLY upholstered, with brightly colored fabric, genuine THICK seat-cushion padding and everything! And there were flat panel screens displaying news headlines, horoscopes, movie listings and info, and other amazing amenities you'd never expect on a public bus. - I felt like someone took this bus to X-Zibit and had it fixed on PIMP MY RIDE.

FRICKIN' AMAZING!!

I don't know why you needed to know any of this, but I thought I'd mention it.

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I got more of Marco's backstory today... apparently he was born with all kinds of medical problems, he was never expected to walk or be able to do much of anything for himself... and so that means he's doing like 80 times better than doctors predicted he should.

An ordinary person would take this into consideration ... Not me.

While it's all well and good that he can walk, the fact is that he sure as hell ain't doing much for himself, and lord knows he ain't doing anything to make my life easier, so as far as I'm concerned he's still worthless.

The fact that I don't give a rat's pink ass about his early developmental problems and current "miraculous" status, might make me more of an asshole, but my job is to sling flowers, not to babysit Marco, thus I am bitter.

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I am packing up all of my belongings into boxes to move them a grand total of 4 blocks north... Seems kinda silly if you ask me.

I mean really, I have a kitchen all set up here, I will pack it into boxes, move it north, unpack it and set up another kitchen with the same stuff.

I will do the same thing with my bedroom, closets, bathroom, and storage unit... just seems like a huge waste of energy, don't you think?

Anyone available to help me move in the next few days? (I'll love you forever, and I'll probably buy you dinner too!)

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I also need to find a "real job" to do once flower slinging ends. Mel sees me working in a laid back environment on par with the "Photo-Hut" - If it pays the bills and doesn't make me homicidal or suicidal, I'm all for it.

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This has turned into quite a lengthy post, my apologies if I bored you. I'll stop now!

Chicago Woman Stabs Co-worker in Heart with a Rake - Film at eleven.

If you kids see or hear this headline, they are likely talking about me.

My victim? MARCO!

Another day, another dollar... that's how it's supposed to go, but for Lizzle cake, every day at work presents a new challenge. This is generally a challenge to my virtues of fortitude, and patience.

I will easily grant that I am a complainer... I do complain, but I do it in amusing ways, and I try to limit it when I can see that it is irritating others. I am in fact apologetic for it if I feel I might have overstepped my complaining boundaries after the fact. But in this instance I feel I am entitled to a little whining! My primary complaint: I am being punished because Marco sucks at life.

Today, I parted company with my mother, and went to work. (Momma drove home, she thanks you kids for all the fun she had during her stay) And despite the fact that Marco was scheduled to be at work at 9:00 AM like me, I was scrambling around by myself until roughly noon. I should note that this arrival (late or otherwise) did not bring an end to my scrambling. Rather, it perpetuated it.

You see, when Marco is "working" this means that everyone else has to work 2-3 times as hard, (especially on weekends). Weekends are the busiest time for flower slingers... especially when the weather is sunny and warm like today was. So under normal circumstances, today would've been busy, even with a full staff. Ciara was busy moving and settling in, Nate was off doing whatever Nate does, I was at the store, and Marco... well, Marco's body was there, though his work-efforts and mind were notably absent. We all work harder when Marco is "working" because despite the fact that he draws a paycheck, he doesn't really do anything. (The only thing he does well is make the rest of us look bad as a group.) We work 2-3 times harder because we not only do our own work, we also do the work Marco would be doing if he were a normal worker, we have to find crap for Marco to do that he is incapable of fucking up, we must make sure he actually does the menial crap we ask him to do, and we must undo and re-do it when he inevitably does fuck it up.

He shows up late, moves very slowly, gets distracted very easily, knows nothing about the plants we work with, is incompetent of the most menial tasks, (which means he is frequently relegated to watering while the rest of us try to pick up the slack,) and he generally creeps people out. He talks to himself, makes the home depot girls uncomfortable, and makes his co-workers hate life.

I can say all of this because I work with him, and he has stretched my patience to painful lengths... He is also responsible for a rather sizable lump on my head, as numb-nuts forgot to lock the brakes on a cart and well, my head was unable to compete with it as it rolled in my direction.

I agreed to do this job because last year it was fun and enjoyable... this year Marco has made the job an earthly preview of hell.

I will likely end up stabbing him in the heart with a rake, or a gardening trowel, or pruning shears... whatever is handy when I finally snap. (Just prepare yourself for the possibility that this blog might suddenly end because I will not have access to my computer in jail.)

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I had a revelation today. It's no secret that I like to rock out while showering. I have come to the conclusion that I cannot listen to certain things while showering. - Namely live albums.

I do fine with live music, but when I am showering, and suddenly a crowd is cheering, I am a little unnerved. Despite knowing that I am alone, I find myself imagining a large crowd of people on the other side of the shower curtain, applauding my exfoliation technique. Needless to say, I am a little weirded out by that image while I am in such a "vulnerable" state.

Just thought that was weird enough to warrant mentioning.

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No new quotes - I never talk to you crazy kids anymore to hear the amusing things you say!

Well, it's official... kinda.

Yeah, you got that right kids, Liz is a college graduate.

Of the ceremony, I will say this: I enjoyed it... with the exception of our student speaker... she was RUBBISH! Now, granted, it does take a little courage to get up in front of a few thousand people and give a speech... but this was insufferable! The poor girl tried to tie WAAAAY too many unrelated points together, struggled through some tough phrases as though she didn't know how to read, and became quite a repeater when she found herself stumbling... it was like being forced to watch/listen to a severe car wreck... NOT PRETTY! (I felt kinda bad for her... but not so bad that I didn't make crass remarks to the people around me as she was fumbling along... because as we've established, I AM AN ASSHOLE.)

The rest of the ceremony was very nice. (And when I shook the hand of the president of the university, do you know what he had to say to me? - Fr. Michael Garanzini:"Isn't this COOL?!?" to which I promptly replied "YEAH!" ...I am such a geek.)

Since they mail us the real diplomas in August, despite being done, it's only kinda official. I appreciated that they inserted a nice little letter welcoming us to the alumni association... that introduction is handy considering they will be asking us for more money very soon.

After graduation I had dinner with my dad, step-mom, and little sister, came home and took pictures of my neighbor Anthony, and then went out for some serious celebratory drinking! (As you can see in the pictures below.)

I was the only one in the Wrigleyville and Lincoln Park bars who had a 54 year old mother in tow, but hey, when your friends like your mom, and mom can hang, it's really not as bad as you might imagine! I actually thought it was kinda funny. And we all had a good time downing drinks and dancing... what more could you ask for!?!

Well, I am off to amuse myself for the rest of the weekend! You kids be good and we'll chat later!

Graduation.

Graduation (I'm the one in the middle with a pink collar.)

All smiles.

If there was ever a picture of a true rock star, it's like this one of my neighbor boy, Anthony. Rocking out, playing guitar with no pants on!

Anthony - So hot, even with mac & cheese on his shirt.

Anthony! SO SWEET!

We don't really know what's going on with the frog. (Thanks Red)

Anthony is such a rockstar!

Meljoy and her tits in Mike's sunglasses

Liz & Mel

Liz, Dubs, and Shaun (background)

Liz and Dubs

I know who I'm voting for!

Mike and Mel.

Dubs musta done something wrong...

Mel & Mike.

Shaun: Self-portrait.

Dubs likes to lick people.

Reciprocation.

Sexy, kinda (Take 1)

Sexy bitches. Liz, Dubs, Mel.

Mike and Meljoy!

Mike's sunglasses are too big for Lizzle cake!

Meljoy!

Jen grabbed some Lizzle cake... I tell y'all, I'm all tits!

Mel likes to pick up Jen... of course Jen only weighs like 30 lbs...

Lizzle and momma! AWWW

Momma and the kids... Grad night at the bar!

Jen & Megan, some crazy country bitches let loose in the city!

Mel molesting Mike.

Jen REALLY loves the Hoagie Hut!

Jen and Mel...AKA- A train wreck and Tits McGee

Shaun doin' some kind of white-boy dance move.

Jen likes to molest people while they are off guard.

Shaun has resigned himself to molestation.

Jen and Mel, still dancin' at Grand Central

Liz molesting Shaun

Red headed sluts at last call!

Getting ready for graduation

Today was errand running day... got a few things done before graduation.

Got my nails done, got my eyebrows done, got my bills paid, got my lease signed.

We ended the evening with the Sorgatz crew and the Stephansen crew... pictures below. (My apologies for looking gross.)

I also apologize for the fact that I posted a picture of a dead squirrel... don't ask, because on occasion strange things make me giggle.

More details and entertaining stories later! (I'm tired!)

This is ... er... was a squirrel on my street. I know this is repugnant, but the positioning and whatnot amused me... sorry, I laugh at some really ridiculous and awful stuff!

All those bottles on the table this early in the evening means trouble!!

Skipper and Spoolie, some hot drunk bitches!

Heather and Momma Sorgatz

Mom & Me... I am BUSTED... I look cute in one pic this whole night, and this ain't it.

Alana and Momma Stephansen