Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Shakespeare: Sonnets. Everyone has heard of you,
and almost everybody can find something
touching in you. You are calm and control
yourself, even though your wisdom and your
messages are no lesser than those of others.
Which literature classic are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Y'all know me, I like any excuse to eat, drink, and be merry! (Especially with Caroline, who I have every intention of eating, drinking, and being merry with this evening after work... Hell, maybe if we get enough of the drinking part done, we'll actually get her to post something!)
On an unrelated note, I appreciate all your sympathies over my idiot brother and his stupidity... To clarify a couple of things, he moved into the family home because since my grandmother's death, mom moved in with grandpa to kind of help him out with stuff... (I keep telling you all that my mom is a saint.) So since she moved out, the house was empty, and my brother and his girfriend moved in, and kind of made the house their own... The process during which included chucking just about everything in the house, from my dresses, to brand new towels, to good table linens, spices from the spice drawer, non-perishable canned food items, and just about anything else you can think of... Because like I said before, HE'S AN IDIOT.
On yet another unrelated note, I am falling apart... My knee is all out of whack again, which has made my ankle ache in trying to compensate, one of my fingers is either arthritic (Already?) or I somehow managed to jam it without knowing or remembering it, I have MANY assorted cuts, bumps, and bruises, because (like Marcia) I am a total klutz. So basically, yeah, I'm falling apart at the ripe old age of 23... JOY.
Guess I'll have to just drink away my pain on this lovely Mardi Gras!
(Like I said, I'll use any excuse to eat, drink, and be merry!)
Sunday, February 26, 2006
The fact is that despite his idiocy, and despite the fact that he insists on learning EVERYTHING the hard way, we have always found a way to forgive him, if only because we all know there's one bumbling idiot in every family, and you have to just love them anyway. And it is not uncommon for me to find myself in the position of defending my brother for his idiotic misdeeds, but I think I've finally found the one thing that I won't defend...
HE THREW AWAY MY PROM DRESS.
Yes, you read that right... HE THREW AWAY MY PROM DRESS.
Now, when you read the phrase "PROM DRESS" please don't let horrible mental images come to mind! It was not seafoam green, it was not spandex, there were no sequins, big ugly flowers, or mountains of tulle involved.
It was a very classically-styled full length gown... White brocade satin, with a high neck and an empire waist... It was stunning, it was expensive, it was mine... And now it's either at a goodwill store or chilling at the city dump amidst soiled diapers, coffee grinds, rodents, and somebody's Vanilla Ice tape.
It was the only dress that I've ever put on that made me feel like a princess, and now it's gone.
How could this have happened, you ask?
Well when I moved to Chicago, I didn't think I'd be attending any proms, so I left it where it was in the home I grew up in, covered in a custom-made plastic bag along with all my other formal dresses, hanging on a hook in my basement. And my idiot brother moved back into the family home, and decided to do a clean sweep of EVERYTHING the house contained... INCLUDING my stuff. No phone call to say "Hey, I ran across those nice formal dresses of yours, do you want to keep them, or do you want me to chuck them out on the highway so that the bums can remember what satin feels like?" Also in that bag was a Christmas formal dress that had been hand made by my now deceased grandmother, a green velvet number that I wore to another Christmas formal, a floor-length red velvet dress that I wore to a Valentine's day formal, and an all-purpose formal black satin dress that I'd worn to my cousin's wedding... Yeah, they're gone too.
The prom dress was just the first one I thought about, but the one I am most upset over losing is the Christmas dress that my grandmother made... I mean it was custom made to my specifications and custom tailored to fit me, by my grandmother, who is no longer with us... She took the time, and energy to craft that beautiful burgundy and ivory dress just for me. An act of love on her part... And that's something I can't get back... EVER.
I mean I know there are a great many things about my highschoolian days that I would love to forget, but I'll tell you something... He chucked the few good memories I had, like they were phlegm covered banana peels and moldy bread. (Which is likely what they are now hanging out with.)
So crack open an ice-cold Bud Lite, because this one's for you, my idiot brother... You are a real man of genius!
Friday, February 24, 2006
The plot, bitches get on a plane from Hawaii to L.A. and one of the passengers happens to be in the witness protection program... An assassin is hired to kill that passenger, so what does he do? He unleashes SNAKES ON A PLANE! (Because this is the most practical way to get rid of an unwanted witness... OF COURSE!) The drama that ensues constitutes the bulk of the movie.
Now here is what gets me... It is being reported that Samuel L. Jackson signed on to do this movie without even reading the script. He heard the title SNAKES ON A PLANE and said, "I'M IN BITCHES!"
How awesome is that?
This movie will either be the biggest flop in all of history (Making it qualify as awesomely bad,) or it's going to be recorded as one of the few truly brilliant moments of our time... Either way, SNAKES ON A PLANE IS GOING TO BE SOME KIND OF AWESOME!
So I looked in the ol' archives, and tracked down October 2004, and much to my surprise, the post cannot be located... Mind you, the post can't be located for a reason other than what you might be thinking. (The post is there, so that's not the reason.) But the fact is that the spirit of that post is rather pervasive, and extends through the entire month of October... and well into other months if you want the truth.
I sat there, re-reading the words I had written back in October of '04 and I couldn't help but wonder, WHO WAS THIS PERSON, AND WHERE THE HELL DID SHE GO, BECAUASE THAT BITCH WAS FUN!
Yeah, I used to be fun... and WAY the hell funnier. So what happened? I don't know for sure, but I think I must've gotten really drunk at some point, and dropped my sense of humor in a gutter, because I can't seem to find it! I can safely say that I have a record of my fun college days though! I mean wow... I documented skipping class to go drinking, skipping class because I was too hungover from a previous night's drinking, skipping class because I didn't want to start off the day with a professor who was an asshole... It's remarkable! I even documented conversational snippets with my mother who was condoning my drinking and hard-partying collegiate behavior.
And I'll tell you something else, the old QOTD system, was awesome! Yeah there are a few days in there that didn't really have any great quotes, but damn, a lot of them are REALLY frickin' funny. I should probably get back into the habit of posting a dated QOTD... just to keep me on top of things. [The only problem with that is that I don't talk to nearly as many funny people (intentionally funny or otherwise) on a daily basis,] so great quotes feel like they are harder to come by.
Seriously, go back and read some of that mess! IT'S GREAT! (Of course there are other events in there that I'd prefer to forget, like the Dave debacle, and the infamous drought...) But for the most part, it's just lots and lots of posts about me being awesome!
Damn, now that I can afford it, I need to get back in the swing of things!
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Thirteen Things about Lizzle
1. I love sushi... to an alarming degree.
2. When I have trouble sleeping, I tap my foot on the footboard of my bed... Don't know why, but it makes me feel better, and most of the time I fall asleep shortly after.
3. I love the smell of gasoline, vanilla, permanent markers, the smell of a campfire, the smell of the ocean, and the smell that only happens right before it rains.
4. I used to play piano and the french horn. I don't think I was ever very good at either one, but I guarantee you I could still bust out a rendition of Jolly Old St. Nicholas on either one.
5. I am a koolaid addict.
6. I am also a coffee addict.
7. I am left-handed... (But most of you probably actually knew that)
8. I very rarely watch tv (sports are the occasional exception, though I haven't watched a single minute of the Winter Olympics, because I'm a Summer Games kind of girl!)... This translates into a void in my knowledge of the world.
9. My favorite show as a little kid (back when I watched TV with some regularity, my favorite show was Fraggle Rock... Boober was my favorite fraggle, but I always wanted to BE Red.
10. I'm particular about my clothes, so when I see serious errors in fashion judgment, (like UGG boots and sweatpants,) I get a little crazy... Ok, A LOT crazy.
11. I take great pleasure in filling out a March Madness bracket every year, it's one of the few things that gets me through the long cold winters.
12. I think my nose is perfect in profile, but it's too round at the end when viewed from the front.
13. I am pretty sure I've just bored the crap out of you with this post.
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I mean look at this guy! He's all like, "BAHAHAHA! Your retarded ass got in the water, now you're mine, chump!" I mean seriously it looks like he's half laughing at you, and half ready to bite you in two! All I know is, I'm not going into the ocean any time soon to figure out which way he meant it to be interpreted!
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
I haven't done ANYTHING.
Nothing... At... All...
All... This... Week...
Now, granted, this means I do have time to do things like go on ESPN.com and catch up on my college hoops stats before March Madness gets into full swing, and play an obnoxious and probably obscene amount of "Mansion Impossible" (hey, at least I'm keeping it related to the Real Estate Industry!) and other games on e-baums and I'm actually being paid for it!
I mean seriously, in the last three days, I've printed three things, made a few copies, sent 2 e-mails, returned one phone call for a broker, stamped 3 envelopes, and passed out the mail when it arrived. And that's about it. Remember, that is spread over the last 3 days... It's hard to look busy when that's all that is going on.
So I play games, read blogs, and IM people... (If you have a few minutes and AIM, feel free to IM me and disrupt my "Busy" work day! I'm "DamnLizForgot")
Other than that, I don't know much.
Word to your mother.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
There are few things that make me crazier and more prepared to shove bamboo chutes under someone's fingernails, or gouge their eyes out with a sharp stick than an AUTOMATED TELEMARKETING CALL! (I'm pretty sure that someone else, probably Idle, wrote about this recently, but I don't really care, it's a topic that merits attention from multiple sources!)
As if the standard telemarketers were not bad enough, now we have to contend with them being computerized. In addition to the fact that they annoyingly don't immediately respond the first time you answer the phone, thus creating the irritating phenomenon known as "Greeting-Repeating" because you have to repeat your standard phone greeting two or three times before the computer realizes that they have a live person on the phone, anxiously awaiting their auditory assault.
Then when it sinks in that the companies that employ these devilish tactics have your number, and will continually call you back, you sometimes force yourself to listen to the schpiel only long enough to get a real person so that you can tell them that you want to be put on their do-not-call list, and then hang up on them... Because there are few things as instantly gratifying as hanging up on a human telemarketer... (The computerized telemarketers definitely lack this appeal, because you know that computer doesn't give a fuck.)
Yeah, so as you can tell, I hate these folks, largely because if you're going to disturb me while I'm working, at least have the decency to send in a real person to do it, because this automated nonsense is BULLSHIT!
Monday, February 20, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
The weekend has afforded me a chance to catch up on some major sleeping time... which is nice.
Friday upon getting half way home from work, I realized I forgot my phone on my desk, so I had to trek back to the office and retrieve it, likely looking like a crazy person to my boss who was still around when I went back in. So I got home, had a quick bite, and went up to campus for the men's volleyball game. While I was there, I got a couple of pleasant surprises... 1.) My buddy Ian actually got some playing time, which makes me infinitely happy for him! And 2.) Alana called to let me know she was in town again this weekend, so of course there was drinking to be done!
So naturally, I went out with Alana again... Tore my jeans twice getting into the back of a standard sized taxi cab with 5 other girls... Yes, you read that right... there were 6 of us in the back of the cab, plus one in the front seat, and the driver.... It really is no wonder I tore my jeans.
We went to a couple of bars that I really don't care for, but in the company of my friends, I more or less took that hit for the team... (And yes, Caro, we finished the night at Nick's Uptown... So you know I took a serious blow in the interest of hanging out with my friends)
For those of you out-of-towners who are not familiar with Nick's Uptown Lounge, consider yourselves lucky! It's an after-hours bar that despite the virtues of being open until 4 AM lacks a genuine appeal that I usually require when considering possible places to go after-hours. It is also one of those bars that is often classified as a "Sausage-fest" meaning that the guy to girl ratio is something staggering, like 10 or 12 males per female... Now while that might have some of you saying "HELLS BELLS! LET'S GO TO NICK'S!" the fact is that these are not really appealing men... Of course, the same can be said for the vast majority of the female clientele of the establishment, largely because they all offend my sensibilities as a human being. They are the yuppie- scum- looking- for- a- one- night- stand- after- striking- out- at- the- regular- hours- establishments-of- the- city- types... One word: GUH-ROSS!
But in the interest if hanging out with those whom I so dearly love, I took the hit. The atmosphere at Nick's was even less appealing at our table, because one of the girls in our party was BLITZED, and lost her (rather pricy) new phone. So of course, a loss while VERY drunk leads to somewhat irrational amounts of tears. So upon closing the bar down, and seeing the crier home, we went to a nearby mexican food establishment... (I won't call it a restaurant because quite frankly, calling it a restaurant would be more than a little bit of a stretch.) So we ate, made jokes about cat meat in the burritos, you know the drill. And I ended up getting home right around 5 AM... So I showered and hit the hay.
Saturday was spent almost exclusively in bed... Because I was out so late, and because my bed is spectacular! But I did get up long enough to attend yet another men's volleyball match, and see my boys rout Ohio State, which was a HUGE deal for them, and I must say, it was GLORIOUS! (Conrats gents!)
Ling Wong welched on me, and didn't show up, so we didn't go out. (Hence the title of today's post.) And once again, we didn't go to the art institute again this weekend. But C did come over to play after the game, so that was still a good time.
And today, well today was spent largely in bed... because it's too bloody cold to get up and go anywhere further away than the coffee shop. So that pretty much brings you up to speed... here are a couple of quotes.
"Two dollar make you holler! And then I'll kick you in your poon!" ~Alana
Abby: "Why do guys want to do it like every 2 minutes?"
Liz: "What? You mean you DON'T want to do it like every 2 minutes?"
Abby: "No... I need like at least three or four minutes for recovery."
Kari: "Well, hell if you need recovery time, that's the kind of doin' it that you SHOULD want every 2 minutes!"
Abby: "Yeah, she used to try to give him a boner at parties to embarrass him."
Kristy: "That's awful, who would do that to their boyfriend?"
Kari: "Are you kidding, there's nothing more fun! They get all embarrassed and either have to walk it off, or make an otherwise unnecessary trip to the bathroom... It's hilarious."
Liz: "Hell with my luck, he'd refuse to walk it off or go to the bathroom and just cover it up with a book!
Kari: "You're dating the wrong guys then... no guy should prefer to be seen at a party with a book over being seen at a party with a boner!"
Friday, February 17, 2006
MINNIE FUCKING DRIVER!
Don't believe me? Go look! See for yourself, I'll wait.
Yeah, Minnie Driver has an album.
Well great. That just makes my world complete.
A complete fucking crazy mess!
Thursday, February 16, 2006
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Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Love is a many-splendored...mental illness?
I want to say first and foremost that I am a romantic. I really am. I am a scientist as well, however. So, I decided to do a little research into the science of love. It is worth investigating, after all, especially on Valentine's Day. It is an emotion for sure, but what exactly makes it so powerful?By Dr. Sanjay Gupta, CNN Correspondent
It turns out Lucy Brown, a neuroscientist at Albert Einstein College of Medicine, decided to put it to the test. She found 17 people who were madly in love and scanned their brains while they were looking at a picture of their sweetheart. She wanted to find out what happens in the brain when someone experiences intense feelings of love.
What she found is that there is no separate "love" part of the brain. Instead, the reward/pleasure part of the brain lights up strongly, just like it does when someone eats chocolate or when an addict gets a fix.
If that doesn't take all the poetry out of love, consider this: Serotonin levels were 40 percent lower in lovebirds, just as they are in those with obsessive-compulsive disorder. So, according to Brown and her two fellow researchers, Art Aron, a psychologist at Stony Brook University in New York and anthropologist Helen Fisher, love is a motivation bordering on mental illness.
And it gets worse. It is predictable that the dopamine-drenched craze that fuels intense love will wear out; sometimes over days, sometimes over years.
But remember, I am a romantic. So in this one case, I will dispense with science and just follow my heart. I will buy flowers for my wife and take her out to a nice dinner. Sometimes, it is better not to know all that is going on in our brains at any given time.
But last night, I got home, made some dinner, and sat down to go through the day's mail, and I learned something incredible. I saw something from the student loan people, and instead of ignoring it, as I have been known to do, (since they have been sending me statements throughout my college career despite the fact that they didn't expect me to pay until 6 months after graduation, which is roughly now). So, I opened it up, read what they had to tell me, and flipped to another page from the mailing... It was roughly at this time that my mind kind of boggled at what I saw. (No, I was not boggled at the numbers on the page... I was prepared for those.) Rather, I was caught off guard by something else. Something that I wasn't expecting.
Apparently I went to law school... And apparently I graduated from law school in August of 2005.
This of course prompted a phone call to my mom that went a little something like this:
Liz: "Hey, mom... Guess what!"
Liz: "You know how I didn't go to class sometimes back when I was still in school?"
Mom: "Yeah, why? They want your degree back?"
Liz: "No, actually, I found out that I missed a lot more class than I previously thought... Because apparently I graduated from law school in August."
Mom: [gales of laughter] "Really?"
Liz: "Yeah... I mean I know I skipped a lot of stuff, but I would've thought I would have remembered SOMETHING pertaining to enrolling, attending, or graduating from law school."
Mom: "Well... Wow! You think you can go to the law school reunions?"
Liz: "Probably not..."
Later, mom and I talked again:
Mom: "So, about this law school thing, you know that will look quite impressive on your resume!"
Liz: "Yeah, I know! I mean I apparently did law school at the same time as my undergrad, either that, or I completed 4 years of course work in the 3 months after I finished my undergrad, to have finished when they think I did. "
Mom: "I always knew you were a gifted child... So how is this resume entry to read? 'Graduated law school 8/05 but decided not to take the bar, and opted for working in one.'?"
Liz: "Ha, yeah... but I think it would end up reading more like, 'Graduated law school 8/05 but decided not to take the bar, and opted for working in a bar, got fired from that job for irrational reasons, so I elected to just take to drinking in bars.'"
Mom: "I think that'll do."
Yep, I think that'll do.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
First off, it's Singles Awareness day... aka Valentine's Day.
I hate Valentine's Day for 2 reasons.
- I've only ever had one Valentine's Day that I've spent with someone special... and over the course of 23 years, that's not the best track record. (The most exciting thing I did on my Valentine's Day this year involved spending $70 on groceries that will last me at least 2 weeks.)
- Valentine's day leads to awkward conversations like these:
Dad: "Hey, I was just thinking about my Valentine, and thought I'd give her a call."
Liz: "Oh, really? How is she doing?"
Dad: "Ha! You tell me."
Liz: "Oh, you mean I'm your Valentine?"
Dad: "Well, yes."
Liz: "Well I hope you've got a backup, because if I'm the only Valentine you've got, then it's a real shitty state of affairs!"
Dad: [Slightly bemused, awkward laughter]
Liz: "Happy Singles Awareness Day, from the Chicago chapter of cold-hearted singletons and fag-hags!"
Mel: "HA HA, Oh well thanks! And Happy Valentine's Day from the girl in Iowa... So what's going on in Chicago tonight?"
Liz: "Nothing, remember, we just went through this... I'm single. Nothing happens for us single folk on Valentine's Day... No matter where we live."
Mel: "Oh... right."
On an unrelated note (because this is a conglomeration post, you shouldn't expect things to run coherently through the little line break things...)
I've had some crazy dreams lately... Last night I had a dream involving befriending a beached whale, for some unknown reason carrying around a rather large talking catfish that apparently didn't need to be submerged in water, and my friend Alana being able to conjure up tidal waves in a manner not unlike Ludo from the movie Labyrinth calling the rocks.
I almost had a brain hemmorhage trying to print something for one of the brokers today because he wanted it on legal-sized paper, and legal sized paper makes my printer WIG OUT.
Basically it caused a "paper jam" (Think like in the movie Office Space when Samir is saying, "Why does it say paper jam when there is no paper jam? I swear to God... One of these days, I'm just going to kick this piece of shit out the window!") And it would do this paper jam thing every 3 pages or so... which might not seem like a lot, but when you're printing 4 copies of a 47-page long document, it's a little excessive.
I was only doing my job, mind you, but still, me doing my job rendered our office pretty much non-functional for a few hours.
Having spent the vast majority of my mornings for the last two weeks on the phone with India, India finally realized that our shit was broken and that it needed to be replaced. So yesterday afternoon, I was preparing to ship out the parts that they needed, which required that I disconnect them from the computer to which they were attached. So I unplugged them from the wall, and the back of the computer, and was just about to box them up and ship them out when I hear one of the brokers shout, "Hey, is your e-mail working?" to which another broker replied, "Umm, no... Is your internet working?" to which the original broker replied, "Shit, no... LIZ! Why is the e-mail down, and why is the internet not working?"
Of course, I knew I'd only unplugged a part that had nothing to do with our connections to the outside world, so when things weren't working directly afterward, I was nonetheless kind of nervous.
So I tried the few fixes I knew how to manage, and nothing worked. So then I go to ask a broker if she knows how to fix it, she doesn't. She then suggests I mention what's going on to the boss. The boss had fortunately already called in a tech support guy for an unrelated problem, so he only needed to call again to upgrade the need for him to hustle over.
Two hours later the internet was still down in our office.
About 4:30 the tech support guy finished, and before he left he said to me, "I'm not 100% sure, but whatever you unplugged shouldn't have caused that... The system just happened crash at about the same time... and if I'd have remembered a few things about your system here, I'd have had you all up and running a lot quicker than I did."
"Thanks for that... Be sure to let the boss know that I didn't break everything!"
So it may or may not have been my fault, but fortunately things are working again and fortunately I still have a job... At least until I break something else!
What the hell is all this shit for?
People get mushy and start acting weird,
It's the single most annoying day of the year.
This day needs to get the hell over with and pass,
Before I shove those roses up dumb Cupid's ass.
I'll spend the day getting drunk 'til I can no longer speak, then I'll wear all black for the rest of the week.
Guys act all sweet, but soon it will fade, for all they are doing is trying to get laid.
Girls too, act sweet - but what's on their mind?
Diamonds and chocolate and things of that kind.
The arrow Cupid shot at me must not have hit, because now I think love is a crock full of shit.
So that's the story...what else can I say?
Love bites my ass...screw Valentine's Day.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Friday at work was pretty typical... I called India again, I worked on maps... (We have already established just how much I HATE working on maps.) I was busy until about 5, and then I went home.
Knowing that Friday is not one of Caroline's regularly scheduled drinking nights, I didn't even bother calling her to see if she wanted to go out... But about 9 PM I got a call from her begging me to come out and save her from Dave's REALLY, INCREDIBLY boring friends. Not one to pass up an opportunity to drink with Caro and Dave, I went and met up with them, had a few rounds at Solstice before heading up to Wrigleyville to meet up with Alana and Ben At Casey Moran's... (I really don't like Casey Moran's. It used to be tolerable, and when I had a few friends that worked there, it was a decent place to meet and mingle, but nowadays, something is a little different, and not in a good way.) Caro and Dave bailed after a couple of rounds at Casey's, and despite the fact that we closed the place down, I didn't see much more of Alana and Ben after Caro and Dave left. It was kind of weird.
Don't get me wrong, I was glad to see Alana and Ben, especially considering this is their first trip back in from the burbs since graduation, but I'd have liked to have spent a little more time with them.
As for Saturday, it was pretty quiet. Much of the day was spent lounging around the apartment, retrieving my W-2 from the salon, controlling my anger and NOT throwing a molotov cocktail through the front window of the salon. In the evening I went to another volleyball game, and met up with J-Dubs for a few rounds at Cullen's. It was a nice little Saturday!
I've got a few pictures from the weekend, but I am at my work computer, and they are saved on my home computer... So you'll just have to wait.
Here are a couple of quotes to hold you over, though!
"Have you guys ever worn Depends out? I would think they would make your ass look puffy." ~Dave
Caro: "Hey, Dave, did Kevin call?"
Caro: "Well at least check your phone!"
Dave: "I don't have to check my phone... I would have felt it buzz... It might not feel as good as when Liz calls, but still, I'd have felt it!"
"Every time we go out, it's my goal to say something that makes Liz's quotes of the day... I have to try extra hard to be super witty, that's why I always pause before answering, because I've got to get back to you when I have a really witty answer." ~Dave
Sunday, February 12, 2006
I've fortunately never fallen victim to the likes of these evil-doers, but I guess it's some kind of cause for concern.
So what is a laundry burglar? Should we be concerned for our safety? Should we be guarding our laundry with fierce intensity? Should we hide our delicates?
The fact is, I don't have the answers to any of these questions... But here's why I think this gets its own post.
To the right you can see my laundry room... It ain't anything to write home about, it's just your average laundry room with four funcional washing machines, and four functional dryers. This is what it looks like during the day. Brightly lit, usually pretty empty, no place to sit, and there is a video surveilance camera in one corner... So I can see you wondering, "Well if there is a camera, why are we worried about the laundry burglars, then? And what measures are being taken to avert a laundry burgling?"
Well, I'm glad you asked my friend! You want to know what we're doing to prevent alaundry burgling? Well I'll tell you! We are locking the laundry room up at night!
Most of you are saying, "Wait, you're locking the laundry room at night? Even though there's a camera in there?"
If you go down to the laundry room, even if it's just to get your own clothes out of the dryer at 10:30 PM, this is what you'll see. A big deadbolted, locked door. And these are keys which the building residents don't posess. So if you want your shit from the laundry room before 8AM the next day, you've gotta go and wake up the building managers and get them to let you get your shit.
Personally I don't believe in laundry burglars any more than I believe in leprachauns or oompa loompas. And I don't see the reason why my clothes should be held hostage until morning if my drying time happens to run until 10:42. I think it's a load of bunk. And wasn't the point of installing a camera in the laundry room an effort to protect our launrdy from these laundry feinds? I guess not. I don't know if the building manager is worried about someone making off with one of the machines, but I mean really, they have to have two keys to get this far into the building anyway, and don't you think taking a laundry machine out of a building would create enough noise and ruckus that someone would notice? I don't know the rationale here... I just know that I have to get my laundry done and not forget to take it out of the dryer in time to avoid it's capture, and despite the fact that I think it impedes my civil right to do laundry whenever the hell I want, or something, I just deal with it.
But I sure as hell don't understand it.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Yeah, the Lizzle is lucky to be among the living these days! Here's how it all went down!
Today was kind of shitty to begin with... I didn't even go out drinking last night, and yet I woke up with a SUPREMELY MASSIVE headache! And no, it's not a brain tumor, so just simmer down... I'm not going to blow my wad that early in the story! Anywho, this headache business put me in a bad mood from the time the alarm went off, but that wasn't even the half of it. So I went to work this morning as usual, and after calling India (AGAIN) I spent the morning at my desk doing normal work-related stuff... A little before 1PM, I decided to go get lunch. So I sauntered on over to the local Subway to get a sammich, and on my way back I was rerouted from the most direct path back to work... Why, you ask? Because there were 6 fire trucks blocking off traffic on Michigan Ave.
A nice fireman politely asked me to cross to the other side of the street if I wanted to continue traveling in my intended direction. Knowing I needed to get back to the office, I did as I was told, and walked the long way back to the office. Before I go on with the story, here are pictures of the traffic-less Michigan Ave. And Lake St. So you know I'm not totally bullshitting you.
(in front of Michigan Plaza)
(*Oh, and that car you see is a cop car, so it doesn't count as traffic!)
So the fuzz had the area all cordoned off. It seemed kind of weird, but hell, I live in Chicago, weird shit happens all the time in big cities, right?
So when I got back to my office, I told my boss about the fire trucks, the detour, and the lack of cars on Michigan and Lake... And at this point, one of the brokers decides she's going to get lunch... A few minutes later, she calls to mention a little hitch in her plans... They are not letting anyone in or out of our building.
Again, I can see you scratching your head, and saying, "But Lizzle, WHY weren't they letting people in or out? What the hell is going on?"
Well I'll tell you.
They weren't letting people go in or out because they didn't want innocent bystanders to be hurt... You see, on the corner of Michigan and Lake there was a "suspicious bag."
Someone left a brief case just sitting on the corner by a trash can and a transformer... And in this heightened state of security, there was significant concern that it was a bomb.
That's right. I was stuck in my building despite the fact that there might be a bomb on the corner. And no, I'm not kidding... Here's a picture of the bomb squad guy checking things out!
Yep. There was a bomb scare in my building, and the guy in the body armor was totally there to assess the situation... And as we stood at the window, watching all of this play out, I turned to my boss and said, "You know David, when I agreed to work here for the wage we agreed on, I didn't figure in the cost of hazard pay."
He just laughed, and told me that I did have health insurance, so as long as I only lose a limb, rather than being totally blown up, I'd be fine.
In the end, it turned out to be nothing, and the cops took away the brief case after the bomb squad guy ruled it harmless.
Of course, me being that ass that I am, when we were having a problem with our e-mail later in the day, I joked to one of the brokers that if we'd all gotten blown up earlier in the afternoon this e-mail situation wouldn't be such a big deal!
So when the day was done, I called my dear Anthony, and told him my story. Here's how he reacted:
Liz: "(bomb story, blah blah blah)"
Anthony: "Wow! I don't even know what to say!! I'm totally blown away! Er... Well, I'm not blown away, and I'm glad you aren't either! I guess I'll just say I love you, and that I'm glad you weren't blown up!"
Liz: "Thanks, I love you too, and I am also glad that neither of us was blown up!"
Anthony: "Well your day was a whole hell of a lot more interesting than mine!"
This little snippet of conversation makes me wonder, why doesn't Hallmark make a line of cards that reads something along the line of "Hey, I'm really glad you didn't get blown up today!" I mean really, think of it... It would be a huge seller to people who have loved ones in the armed forces!
God... I really am an asshole!
(You think this bomb scare business was god's way of telling me that it could all be over at any time, and that I still have a chance to turn it all around? ...Yeah, me neither!)
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
I save the “nice” for the office… By comparison, the mean takes a lot less out of me. So this probably makes me what people would call “protective” … But when I get protective, I get FIERCELY protective. And when I’m in protective mode, it comes out without rhyme, reason, question, or awareness of circumstance.
So my most recent venture into the mean was actually aimed at someone who under normal circumstances would have been in the protective blanket area. Obviously these were not normal circumstances. The person in question? My brother’s girlfriend of three years. The circumstances? She said shit about my family that was unquestionably wrong, and not the kind of things that can easily be laughed off… She meant them to be hurtful.
Now when it comes to dishing out hurt to the masses, if I’m involved, you’re probably better off literally stabbing me in the heart, because if you tangle with the people I love, you can bet that I’m coming after you, and I ain’t foolin around with any of that “fair fighting” mess. I’ll fight dirty, and I’ll win, because that’s just what I do. I'll rip out your heart, take a bite, and shove the rest of it down your throat. And you’d have nobody to blame but yourself for it because you were the one to start shit. (And I'll do even more damage if you consider doing something stupid... like say, bleed on my fabulous shoes.)
Reading back over this, I can definitely sense that there is a deep hostility in it… And not only because I’m writing about being hostile. The fact is that this occurrence is still pretty fresh. Though I have had several days to calm myself down. The brother and girlfriend are still together, so the hostility is in check at present, but if she knows what is good for her, she’ll be minding her P’s and Q’s for a long stretch.
Here endeth the rant.
As for the taxes, I'll be expecting a nice little check from the feds in a couple months, I was just ranting because I don't want to deal with those tanning salon cunts. (And I don't throw that word around lightly.)
As for the hell in a "handwagon" stuff, for those who were confused by the comments, back in the day, when I still posted quotes of the day with some regularity, one of my friends was kind of drunk and was talking about going to hell in a handwagon... And I quoted her, much to the amusement of those of us who worked with her on a daily basis. We joke about it on occasion still, as you can tell.
And speaking of QOTDs, I've got a few for you!!
"I would totally punch a bitch in the face for you! That's how much I love you!" ~Anthony
"Well, we were going to fly our priest out to California to perform the ceremony, but that's going to get really expensive! I mean you've gotta pay taxi fare to the airport, airfare, car rental, hotel, meals... And you've gotta pay so that he has a little boy to fondle... And I'll tell you, the child sex market is EXPENSIVE!" ~John
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
This means that you get to deal with all the bullshit that being jerked around by a couple of former employers entails! As you can already tell, I am just oh so very thrilled at the prospect of going back to the tanning salon to pick up my W-2 form... (I hope you are all picking up on the rather thick layer of sarcasm there!)
I also have to run by the university to get my W-2 from them as well... but I am still on good terms with them, so it's not such an issue.
Outside of that, I have been CRAZY busy at work, trying to get THE LARGEST MAP EVER done for one of the brokers... (More than anything else which my job entails, I HATE HATE HATE doing maps... I hate it even more than having to call India every few days!)
Though I will say I think I probably hate the prospect of going into that wretched tanning salon even more... Though, now that I think about it, I can totally use this opportunity to tell those bitches that they can shove their lotion training and their low pay right up their asses... I'm not going up there for another day or two, so if you kids have any other ideas that don't involve me being arrested for fire-bombing, by all means, let me know!
Sunday, February 05, 2006
First on the docket today, are fashion NO-NOs! I went to men's volleyball games on both Thursday and Friday of this past week. One of the opposing teams was frim Virginia, and I get the feeling that the fans from Virginia just had no clue that when you go to the big city with the bright lights, you need to dress the part. You need to forget everything you learned about fashion on the farm, and when in doubt, you're going to an athletic event, so you should probably sport a sweatshirt with the name of your team on it and a decent pair of jeans... Clearly this woman had no idea that shirts that have been run through a bedazzler are not considered fashionable. Please note exhibit A -
Yes, this picture is blurry, but it was taken at a great distance from the stands, and if nothing else, the blurriness protects the identity of the innocent bystanters. Either way, you can still readily pick out who I'm talking about... Which is SAD considering how far away I was when I took this picture.
So then there are the suburban-trash girls... These lovely ladies have been raised just outside the city limits, and thus have had some kind of exposure to proper fashion... but I think a lot of them could use a lot more exposure so that they don't continually repeat the mistakes that I see ALL THE TIME... Like this gem in exhibit B -
Yes, that's right, that's an expensive bag, UGG boots, (which I hate anyway, because only Caro can make them look even halfway cute) and SWEATPANTS. Now I'm sorry, but I've just gotta say, unless you are at the gym, on your way to work out, or on your way home from a workout, or in the privacy of your own home, sweatpants shouldn't be donned... And if you insist on wearing them out for whatever reason, they should be worn with athletic-style shoes... Which means I should never see them paired with UGG boots, and I should certainly NEVER see them at a volleyball game with UGG boots!
Sometimes I want to choke bitches and scream, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WHEN YOU LEFT THE HOUSE!?!?!?!"
Yesterday was Loyola's homecoming day, (thus the hall of fame ceremony,) and of course, the annual Alumni game! I love the Alumni game! The former players coming back to the old gym and playing ball like they did in the old days... only now half of them have kids and haven't touched a basketball in a couple of years. It's good stuff!
So that covers Thursday through Saturday afternoon...
Saturday night after building that entertainment center I mentioned in the last post, I went out with Anthony and Erik. Dana and a few of her friends were supposed to meet us by 10, but for some inexplicable reason they were delayed, and didn't show up until roughly midnight. By then I'd pretty much lost the "going out vibe" and decided it was going to be an early night. I ended up packing it up and heading home at about 1 AM, (which for me on a Saturday night is EARLY).
I just wasn't feeling it.
This morning I got up and came to the coffee shop, and was offended by something else... THERE ARE HIGHSCHOOLIANS IN MY COFFEE SHOP!
I mean really! There are no highschoolians allowed in my coffee shop!!! And here they sat! Bedecked in bad expensive clothes (which I'm sure they didn't buy themselves), awful haircuts, backpacks, and braces! These are the kinds of bitches that I just want to stab in the face and scream, "YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU AND YOUR AWFUL TASTE AND YOUR LOUD, INANE CONVERSATION ARE RUINING ANY POSSIBILITY OF ME ENJOYING MY COFFEE... GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE AND GO DOWN THE STREET TO STARBUCKS WHERE YOU BELONG!!!"
Ok, now that I've gotten all that out of my system, I'd like to mention that I'm not a wholly evil person. In fact in the past week, on a couple of occasions I've taken time out of my day to do good deeds. I happened upon a little old man who was walking with a cane, and trying to manage getting his groceries home, so I helped him with the groceries so that he could focus on the task of walking. I also in a very cliche situation, I helped a little old lady across the street. And I helped little old Bill (another of the coffee shop regulars) into the coffee shop.
Hey, I admit to being wicked most of the time, I do little things to try and redeem myself for all the hell-worthy trespasses of my past... Basically I'm trying to get the occasional vacation getaway from hell so that I can make a little money on selling a timeshare in my condo on the River Styx.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Furthermore, it is 10:30 PM on Saturday, and I am headed out with Anthony in the not-too-distant future... We'll see what the evening brings!
Today was a special day for other reasons though, including the fact that I finally bought an entertainment center to house my television, and I hauled it up to my apartment and built it myself! (It's a big fucking armoir style thing, so be very proud of me!)
The other reason today was a big day was because my former boss, affectionately known as "Hitch" was inducted into the university athletics hall of fame! It was a very sweet moment for Hitch, and all the people who love him for everything he does and finally got a chance to cheer for him, because lord knows he is the most humble man ever, and he would never accept that kind of outpouring of acclaim under ordinary circumstances.
NOBODY DESERVES IT MORE!!!!!!
Friday, February 03, 2006
So anyway the weekly backup of our system has apparently been a major kink in the works since it's inception. The girl who had my job for the last 4 years apparently referred to it as the bane of her existence. And it is rapidly becoming something that I unhappily wrestle with on a weekly basis.
So this morning I came in to see if our weekly backup had run, and of course, it hadn't... There was something wrong. VERY WRONG.
So I called the tech support guys in India, and we went through the whole schpiel, and I heard the phrase that nobody EVER wants to hear when they have a technical problem with their backup system.
The guy said, "HMM, well... That's uhhh... That's quite unique."
Yeah, he said that the problem we were having was UNIQUE.
When you're having problems with a personal relationship, or with the way an article of clothing fits, THAT is when problems should be a little bit unique. When it comes to computers, NOTHING should be unique to the tech support person who is paid to solve problems in this genre ALL DAY, EVERY DAY.
So I sat on the floor in the back of the office, on the phone with the guy in India trying to solve our "unique" problem... and eventually we figured things out, but it involved uninstalling and reinstalling the whole program and all the hardware connections... GROSS.
In other news, today is payday, so I am once again a very happy camper... and in the interest of spreading happiness, allow me to share these animations that always manage to make me laugh... They are old, so odds are you've seen them before, but they are still funny, so feel free to view them again and have a good chuckle!
End of the world!!!
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Good luck bitches!
2. I am an artist, though I have yet to see critical acclaim for works, aside from the ones hanging in my apartment, which are too personal for me to ever sell.
3. I currently don't like bananas, but I am teaching myself to like them... I find that I like them a little better if they are still cold from the fridge.
4. I get irritated when people don't use the correct words when trying to say what they mean... I don't know if I'm irritated by their lack of vocabulary, or their lack of clarity, but either way, I am irked.
5. I am a "confessional drunk" - Which means that when I get drunk, I'll be willing to talk about a lot of things that I refuse to discuss while sober.
6. I generally think I'm sane, and a good roommate, but I often wonder if I'm not a little bit crazy based on the people that I've lived with in the past... Like people with all kinds of psychoses are somehow attracted to my craziness.
7. I was a math tutor to kids who were struggling in class when I was in middle school, but I lost the position because of an incident involving mashed potatoes, loud conversation, and a library.
8. I have an apparent tendency to run off the people I am closest to... as evidenced by the several formerly close friends who for some reason refuse to speak to me, but won't give me an explaination why not.
9. I don't think that I can dance well, so I avoid it as best I can, unless I'm at a wedding or visiting the gay bar with Anthony... (The gay men don't care that the straight girl can't dance.) And when I do dance, I can tell you that I know how to dance well enough to avoid making a fool of myself by doing "The Elaine."
10. I've never believed that birthday wishes come true when you blow out the candles, but I still wish on stars all the time!
11. Like my grandfather, I hum or make little noises to myself while I engage in pretty much any activity.
12. I might be 23, but I am still totally addicted to koolaid!
13. I bake and make fudge and other assorted sweet treats on a regular basis, but I never eat any of them... I don't know why not.
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Yup, that over-grown rat saw his shadow, which means we've got 6 more weeks of winter ahead of us! But in all honesty, do I hear anyone complaining? I mean it's been a REALLY mild winter all around as far as I can tell, and I'm all for six more weeks of spring-like temperatures here in the windy city!
As for the infiltration of groundhogs in the Nazi party, well, I'm not an advocate of Nazi-ism, so they can have the groundhogs for all I care! (They have scary buck teeth and beady eyes!)
In other news, my work computer has decided to cooperate with me today, and so I might actually get out of here on time today! I might even have a little time to dilly-dally about on the interweb, and actually catch up on all the baloney that I've missed in the last few days!
I don't really know what else to tell you kids, other than to have a nice day, and be good because Santa is watching!
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Come to think of it, I think it's been following me a little too close for comfort for about a year. I mean yeah, there are good days and fun times sprinkled in there for good measure, but on the whole, I look back at the last year or so, and what stands out the most is that disaster is looming large in the background. (But I digress...)
So what's this about being an arsonist? Well, I've noticed that disaster has been following me around in elemental form for quite some time, and the element that seems to be most heavily favored is FIRE... When I was a little kid, I can distinctly remember we had a chimney fire, and while I don't think our house was in great danger of burning down, I'm sure it was possible. In middle school, I nearly burned my house down... but just ended up with some nasty burns on my leg. (They have since healed to be pretty much completely invisible.) In high school I was friends with 2 people who lost their homes to fires. I can remember at some point going to a dairy queen for an ice cream cone, only to realize that the car wash next door was on fire, so we sat and watched it as it self-destructed. So last year, when I lived with one of my standard, crazy former roommates, it seemed only natural that the building being remodeled across the street caught fire, and was bad enough to require 17 Chicago fire department trucks to douse the flames. And then there was the electrical fire in the laundry room last week, and then a few days ago, an abandoned house down the street caught fire... You starting to see a trend? I'm telling you, disaster is following me in the form of a box of strike-anywhere matches and a can of gasoline!
You think god is trying to tell me to shape up, or I'm going to burn for all eternity in the fires of hell?
Anyway, I've got alibis for most of those incidents... So I swear I'm totally not an arsonist!
In other news, WHERE THE HELL HAVE ALL OF MY PONYTAIL HOLDERS RUN OFF TO? I swear I used to have literally like 400 of those stupid things. And now I've got like 12! (And for someone who doesn't make a habit of giving out ponytail holders, that's a HUGE difference!!)
In other - other - news, today was a really crappy day at work. There was something wrong with my work computer (related to an out-going e-mail of spectacular size) so everything was running SUPER SLOWLY. I'm serious, it honestly took me over 30 minutes just to open a file, make no changes, and just re-save it to a different location! SERIOUSLY! 30 MINUTES! (On an ordinary day that would take less than 2 minutes.) So the fact that we have a big presentation to our biggest client tomorrow meant that the slowed computer came at something of an awkward time. And every time I got one thing done, five more things had been added to my workload... I literally only left my desk for 15 minutes to go pick up my lunch, and I still got out of work more than an hour late. (If all days were like this, I have no doubt that I would develop some sort of nervous tic... my mom seems to think that I would develop some spectacular kind of tic, on the order of Tourette's syndrome... Which is totally plausible now that I think about it.) So when I got home, had dinner, and was VERY VERY tempted to shower and go to bed, but I thought to myself, "NO! You forgot to write a post for your devoted readers last night... You might have had a bad day, but you can't leave them with nothing to read for two days in a row! That's just CRUEL!"
So there it is!