God bless my momma...

There are a great many people out there who think of their mothers as saintly figures walking among the masses... You're probably one of them. I'm here to let you all know that my mother is tops among the living saints. As far as I'm concerned, she is like Mother Teresa on a smaller scale.

My mom never has a harsh word for anyone. (I guess I have the family franchise on that.) She is unfailingly patient, kind, and giving. She would gladly give you the shirt off her back if you needed it. And I do mean YOU. She doesn't have to know you in order to prompt an act of kindness, she does anything and everything for anyone and everyone, little things to better the lives of everyone she comes in contact with. She really is quite a remarkable woman.

In an act of incredible sacrifice, my mom essentially gave up EVERYTHING she had for someone else.

When my grandma died last fall, my mom, still grieving the loss of her own mom, gave up a life of independence to help my grandfather. She left the house that I grew up in, picked up only the most essential of her belongings, (meaning, she basically packed up about half of her clothes, and THAT'S IT,) and she moved into my grandparents' house to help my grandfather pick up the pieces of his shattered existence. In addition to holding down her full time job, she assumed the role that my grandma had filled.

Keep in mind that being a long-time housewife, my grandma spent the entirity of her days cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, etc. So since last fall, my mom gets up in the morning, goes to work all day long, and then comes home of an evening to cook a full dinner spread, do laundry, and any "free time" is spent doing general housekeeping and maintenance of the lawn and basically everything else. And then she puts up with my grandfather, a guy so set in his ways that he insists on a home cooked, full spread dinner, despite the fact that he doesn't cook, and mom works all day, and he refuses to "allow" her to install cable, even though she lives there and has offered to pay for it. Basically, he spends his days testing her patience and sanity to an extent that boggles the mind of ordinary people.

Over the weekend, after my mom spent the whole day spent cleaning the house from stem to stern, cooking a dinner for the two of them and guests, hauling mulch and gardening, my grandfather, thinking my mom was outside, said some things that he shouldn't have said, and that were overheard by accident, and it was more than a little hurtful to momma. He said something to the effect that he didn't know why my mom was there, and why she bothered doing any of what she's been doing these past few months. He continued on to say that she was pretty much "useless" around the house, but that she had a good heart.

He said that about his own daughter. His daughter who had given up her life as she knew it to see that he got through another day, another week, another month...

Basically everything my mom has dedicated her every waking moment to for the last nine months has been rendered totally and completely unappreciated.

I might not be there in person, but I can tell you, my mom works DAMN HARD. And she does a HELL OF A GOOD JOB at everything. So basically, I think grandpa has lost his damn mind. If he knows what's good for him, he'll claim that he is going senile and that he didn't know where he was, who he was talking about, what the words he said actually meant, or his own name for that matter.

Grandpa lost some MAJOR points with me. Nobody says that about my momma! AND I DO MEAN NOBODY... I don't care if it is grandpa!

Momma, you are spectacular. And everybody that you have ever come in contact with knows it. Your sisters know it, your mother knew it. I know it. And I have a feeling that deep down grandpa knows it as well, he's just too set in his ways and too proud to admit that he needs you and everything that you do.

And now the internet knows it too!

LET'S HEAR IT FOR MOMMA!!!!

OW.

First off, I want to thank all of you for your supportive words! You are all so very sweet to indulge me in my misery and whining. Its really nice to know someone out there cares about my stupid, whiny ass!

And for those of you not In Chicagoland, I picked up a redeye (free paper distributed by the trib, centering on current events, sports and pop culture... you know, the important stuff!) today, and guess who was on the cover, and mentioned inside? RONNIE WOO WOO! (The same Ronnie Woo Woo mentioned in a previous post for hitting on me.) He was mentioned as one of the "top 40 Chicagoans" ... SEE! I told you sluts he was a Chicago icon!!!

(And now, ON WITH THE POST!)

Working a job where you are required to be on your feet, running around, organizing stuff is fine and dandy most days... When you're moving around, keeping busy with watering, consolidating and reorganizing, days when you are required to be on your feet are not as bad as one might think... Until of course, you have a great big hole in your foot.

To answer Holly's question, here's how the hole got there: (WARNING: This gets kinda gross)

I broke a glass last week. It fell off of my window sill and broke when it hit the floor next to my bed. I thought I had picked up all the pieces, but apparently I missed one rather substantial piece. And when I stepped over to that side of the bed to adjust my featherbed and tuck the fitted sheet back in, I stepped down and felt a sudden sharp pain... The pain of having a chunk of my heel sheared off. Seriously. There is a hole in my heel, right where the back of my heel meets the sole of my foot. It's a chunk the size of a penny. Round and sheared off completely... There is no "skin flap" or anything like that. That piece of glass just sliced it clean off... (HEY, I ALREADY TOLD YOU this got gross.)

So I hobbled back to my bathroom where I was convinced I was hemorrhaging from my foot, and was going to bleed out, only to be discovered two months later by my building manager when he came in to evict me for not paying my rent... Or whenever the stink of my decaying corpse drifted into the hall, (however its pretty unlikely that the stink of my decaying corpse would be able to overpower the stench of the putrid cooking smells of my neighbors).

Once I got the profusion of Hollywood-horror-flick quality gore under control, wrapped up, and taped with an impressive degree of taping expertise (as noted by a professional NCAA division I trainer,) I propped it up and watched a movie. And that's the story of my foot injury.

I have to work again tomorrow and Thursday, so I'll be whiny and grumpy for a couple of days. Hopefully I'll be in a better mood once I get a day off. Until then, take care!

QOTD -
Kerry: "I think Jesus was surrounded by petunias!"
Liz: "Well, my guess is that he was surrounded by pansies, those are more of a spring flower... You know, big right around Easter."
Kerry: "You're totally right. Jesus WAS surrounded by pansies!"
Liz: "Must be why he got crucified... Pansies never take up for their homies."

Misery loves company...

So who the hell is coming over for my party?

Yeah, I am a miserable mess right now. My apartment is a wreck... as it has been for over a week now because I tore it apart looking for my check book. (I love paying bills online *as much as one can actually like paying bills* until I come to a bill that must be paid with an actual check, and then I curse online checking because I can never keep track of that damn paper check book!)

But then you add in the fact that I have not had a day off since last Monday, and that there isn't a day off coming my way until Friday. Then you factor in a little sunburn, a gaping hole on my left heel that I am struggling with, a pulled muscle in my ass, and a broken air conditioner in this craptastic start to the summer heat and humidity. And once you total all that up, you get me. Miserable, whiny, ME. (Yeah, I know I'm being whiny. I own it.)

So since I am already running on fumes, and I have to make those fumes last through Thursday night, don't expect a whole lot of interest coming from me. Hopefully on Friday I will have recharged and recovered enough to not bore you with my continuous complaining.

Leave some encouragement in the comments, because lord knows I am going to need something substantial to get through this week!

QOTD

"Yeah, one day you'll read about me, and when you do, I will undoubtedly have slept my way to the top." ~Kerry

Welcome to my life...

As usual, I spent my day at work. It was a good day of flower slinging. It was sunny and warm, we were steadily busy but not swamped, the customers were not their obnoixious selves, but rather, a polite, patient mutation of themselves. The day was so pleasant in fact that I stayed on and continuted working for more than 2 hours after I was scheduled to leave. Weird, I know.

And then this evening, after cleaning myself up and washed the work day away, I went to dinner with Erin. I took her to one of my favorite little thai places, because she had never gone there, and of course, she loved it, because I know all the best places in this town!

And on my way home, I got hit on by a Chicago legend.

More specifically, a Chicago legend with Cubs ties.

I know your mind is reeling with the possibilities.

A Chicago legend?? With Cubs ties?? This could be a dream come true!!!

Who could it be??

It's not a dream come true... Its...

Ronnie Woo Woo.

For those of you wh are unfamilliar with this guy, here's a little background.

Long story short, basically he used to be a homeless guy, and now he's a Cubs icon who now attends every game, and yells "WOO!! WOO!!" a lot.

Yeah... Of all the Chicago legends I get hit on by Woo Woo.

Well, at least we're in the right ballpark, LITERALLY.

Sometimes you just have to compromise...

This morning I got up, I went to work as usual, and immediately upon my arrival I had to start watering, because in spite of the strong storms that have passed through here lately, we have to water daily because the plants come in on corrugated steel carts that don't allow the water to flow through the shelves... Its shitty.

Anyway.

So while watering all of our lovely plants, I was miserable with "woman problems." (Perhaps this explains why I was so anxious to stab that bitch in the face the other day... and perhaps this means I deserve a medal for restraint I showed.) And by miserable, I do mean MISERABLE. We're talking despite having a veritable pharmacy in my purse, and having many of those drugs coursing through my system, I was still hurting... BADLY.

So much so that I begged my boss to let me go home so that I could just curl up into the fetal position and die. Having sisters and a girlfriend, he was sympathetic to my plight... However, since it is Memorial Day weekend, ostensibly the busiest weekend of the whole year for the flower slingers, I had to strike a deal in order to get him to agree.

I told him that I would come in on Friday (which I was supposed to have off) and work the hours I was supposed to work today. Knowing how Memorial Day weekend is all around, and that I was in fact not scheduled for Friday, and I was offering to come in anyway, I think he got the general idea of just how bad I wanted to go home... And since I'd been watering plants all morning, I was miserable and soaked 3/4 the way up. And by soaked, I'm talking soggier than David Blaine. (I literally squished with every step.)

Needless to say, with a bargaining chip as big as offering up my Friday, I got to come home for my afternoon where I promptly proceeded to curl up into the fetal position and die... Fortunately for the few, the proud, my lovely readers, I only died for a few hours, and when I regained consciousness I found, much to my surprise, that I was not in fact dead, merely an alive, although pathetic heap of humanity that had merely been incapacitated by the crippling, debilitating pain that comes with being a woman. (SPECIAL SIDE NOTE FOR ALL THE FELLAS OUT THERE: Gentlemen, if you are reading this, and you have any women in your life, be it a wife, girlfriend, mother, sister... anything... Go track her down right now and hug her, and thank her for not killing you, when you behave like an utter doofus while we were/are in this condition. I can say this because I guarantee that at one time or another, while she was in that kind of shape, you did something that was undeniably doofus-like... You always do. You can't help it. This condition lowers our opinion of all humanity, so if you were only a doofus, you were doing pretty damn good.)

And so my lovelies, I bid you a fond farewell... At least for now, while I drug myself back into a spectacularly painless coma!

Sometimes you just want to stab a bitch in the face...

Ok, I'm going to be honest. When I first took the office job back in December, I did think to myself, "Damn, its really going to suck to be cooped up in an office all summer when I could be outside in the sunshine."

And that's true, it does suck to be in an office when its sunny and beautiful out! Of course here in the midwest, we also deal with somewhat temperamental weather... So on the crappy, rainy days an office job might be preferrable. Today started out crappy and rainy like that. And of course, on rainy days, flower sales dwindle, but then there are always a few hardcore shoppers that figure that they need their flowers, and dammit, they need them now!

Now just because there weren't a great deal of shoppers didn't mean that I didn't have stuff to do... There's always stuff to do at the beginning of the day. We were still busy. Those hardcore rain-weathering shoppers don't see it that way. One in particular.

There were four of us merchandising (working) today. (*Please note that at this point, it was STEADILY raining, and we were all outside getting soaked and trying to get things done as quickly as possible so that we could get inside and do the work in there before it really started to come down.) And this particularly obnoxious woman hovers over us out in the rain, continually telling us that she was supposed to go golfing today... and that she's just so happy she cancelled. We tire of this rather quickly. That does not stop her.

She also blathers on continually about a mandevilla. (For the record, mandevillas are tropical plants that the store carries, but are not something that my company handles, and thus, we as merchandisers are not responsible for.) So this woman goes on and on about these damn plants that we are not responsible for. She tells us at least once every 5 minutes or so that she really wants a pink mandevilla... And she does this for over an hour and a half. While we're trying to work. In. The. Rain.

After an hour and a half in the rain, we decided that we needed a collective break from the rain... and this lady. So we go inside. We take our break for about 5 minutes, and like clockwork, she shows up again, and again asks for this mandevilla. I begrudgingly tell her that I will help her find it, much to the surprise of my coworkers. To be honest, part of it was just to get her out of our hair, and part of it was to do my "good deed for the day."

So we walk out to the back of the store, and find the mandevillas. They are kept on carts that are enclosed on three sides, and of course the one she wants is at the back, on the top shelf. So I scale the back of the cart, grab the one she pointed to, and pull it out for her. She waffles on this choice. She really wants a pink one. We only have red and purple on the carts. After a few more minutes of waffling in the rain, she goes with the purple, and we turn to go back up to the front of the store. She informs me that she expects me to carry it for her. (Also something that is not my job.) Begrudgingly, I carry it. Of course on our way she spies another plant she likes, and proceeds to discuss it at length with a merchandiser from another company... While I hold her heavy-ass rain-drenched plant for her.

At this point, I am ready to strangle this woman. She continues to find assorted ways to bother me until she checks out and leaves about 15 minutes later. At which point my coworkers stare at me in wonder, trying to figure out A) Why I bothered to help her, and B) How I was able to restrain myself from violently inflicting her death.

I spent the next few minutes joking heartily to assuage my inner rage. As Erin walked away, Kerry began to snicker at something. (Which brings us to a QOTD)
Erin: "What? Do I have something weird on me?"
Kerry: "No."
Liz: "Uhh, well, vaginas are weird, and I'm pretty sure you've got one of those on you."

Kerry immediately burst into an uncontrollable laughing fit, I shrugged it off, because it was just an average joke for me, but it gets QOTD because its not every day that you have a decent vagina joke.

So I didn't kill anybody today... And that's a good thing.

I love cheese.

It's no secret, I love cheese.

And then there are silly flash animations about cheeses ... Like this one.

God, I'm a nerd... Just ignore me.

I forget a lot lately...

One of the few channels I can actually stand watching these days (other than ESPN) is Bravo. And tonight they were airing a sports classic. The Natural. It's one of those sports movies with a very broad appeal. But the appeal of The Natural is not the topic here... I'm sure Bill Simmons has written a column on it already, I'm sure, and if he hasn't, well it's only a matter of time. Anyway.

So as I watched the movie, I came to a realization. It went something like this:

Hey... WAIT!

That's Kim Basinger!

I forgot about her!

Wait. A. Second.

This movie ain't exactly what I'd call new!

(Made in 1984)

Damn... How old is Kim Basinger?

(The answer is 52.)

Kim Basinger is 52?!?!?! Are you kidding me? Holy cow.

Well hell!

How did this happen???

Once upon a time I was a little girl. And when I was a little girl, I would drink milk all the time! More specifically, CHOCOLATE milk.

At some point, roughly ten years ago, I suddenly rebelled against my love of chocolate milk. I rejected the beverage that had sustained me through my formative years.

And while trolling the aisles of the local supermarket last night, I realized the gravity of my beverage-oriented abandonment. I saw the error of my ways, and I have been lulled back into the hypnotic clutches of my chocolate-enriched lactose friend. And I was welcomed back with open arms.

Basically, after a ten year hiatus, I rediscovered my love for chocolate milk, and darn it, it's delicious! I can't remember why I ever left!

I LOVE CHOCOLATE MILK!

WOOOOOOOOOO!

...Er... Umm...

MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Some of you are going to hate me ...

Some of you might be totally offended by this, but after reading the disclaimer, I think you'll be ok with it. Marcia showed me the fetus-mart, where you can adopt a fetus of your choice. I think it's ok to adopt the fetus, but once you adopt it, you're committed to take care of it!! (At least until it's off the main page.)

I picked the Ninja Fetus because I figured by the time he makes it off the main page, he will have developed his ninja skills enough to fend for himself.


I adopted a cute lil' ninja fetus
from Fetusmart! Hooray fetus!

So there! (I also like the pirate fetus and the viking fetus!)

HOLY MOSES!

As someone who LOVES the original version of The 10 Commandments, you'd think that I'd have a problem with someone chopping it up and making a parody trailer of it. But I don't. And do you know why? I'll tell you.

PRINCIPAL FIREBUSH! (You'll understand after you watch!)



This should totally be the semi-religious-oriented summer blockbuster made solely to compete with that piece of crap DaVinci Code!

Wasted day.

Saturday I worked at the flower slingin' job all damn day. Instead of going out like a proper urban 20 something on a Saturday night, I came home, showered and crashed hard.

My Sunday was totally wasted, and I don't mean wasted the way I usually like for any part of my weekends to be.

You want to know what I did?

I woke up. (Note: waking up does not necessarily involve leaving bed.) And then I spent the vast, and I do mean VAST majority of my day watching a Law & Order marathon. Seriously.

I'm not a TV nut by any means, but if any show can hold my attention all day, Law & Order can... Well Law & Order and Project Runway, but they aren't back in season until later in the summer.

Yeah, that's pretty much it. I kept telling myself to get up and go for a run while it was pretty out, or to at least do the dishes. Yeah, neither of those things happened. (But we all know how I feel about those dishes because I live in a place with no dishwasher, so the dish thing is really not that much of a shocker.)

Since I also have tomorrow off, and since there isn't another Law & Order marathon scheduled for tomorrow, I am telling myself that I will actually do all the things I put off doing today. I don't want to lie to myself... I don't want to delude myself... And I certainly don't want to become the creep with the stinky apartment in the building. (Of course, my neighbors have some of the strangest/nastiest cooking smells that the world has ever known, so being singled out as the stinky one would be a real accomplishment... I mean we're talking a scientific Nobel-worthy achievement.)

On a completely unrelated note, I would like to give a shout out to my upstairs neighbors who have been humping pretty much continuously for the last week and a half. I'm not kidding, this has been going on pretty much around the clock for the last ten days. They are either trying to make a baby, trying to fix a relationship, trying to start a new relationship based solely on continuous fornication, or they are getting ready to attempt a run at the world record for jumping jacks. No matter what they are really up to, it's rhythmic, and it's pretty much constant.

I wish I had something else for you kids, but alas, I don't.

Uhh... So here's a picture of a kinkajou!

Q&A Round Two.

I realized after the fact that I forgot to field one of Brenda Love's questions.

In addition to her previously answered questions, she also asked:

Who is the hottest man ever? It can be a celebrity or a real guy.

I can't attest to the "HOTTEST EVER" because I'm sure there have been some seriously hot men that I've never met or seen a photo of. Also since my tastes have changed over time, I don't always find the same things attractive. But most recently my celebrity crush has been on James Franco. (Although I will say Johnny Depp has maintained his hotness over time, and for a guy over 40, I would still TOTALLY hit it!)

I have admittedly also have had crushes on people I have worked with/around, (no, not office porn guy, HE WAS FOUL!) but I think it's kind of understandable to develop crushes on people you work around in a NCAA Division I athletic department, because everyone loves a beautifully toned body! Ow-chi-wa-wa! (To protect those innocent souls, we won't get into specifics.)

Hang on a few seconds... I think I need a break for a cold shower!

Talk amongst yourselves...








OK, I'm back.

And Diva Jen came back with another question:

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

If I had to pick one thing, I'd say that I'd like to be less guarded with my emotions. I have long admitted that I am honest to a fault, but the fact is that I am not one to easily expose the more emotional side of myself. This often means that a lot of people don't know exactly how much I care for them, and I invariably seem to get hurt when they treat me with less regard because they didn't know just how much I cared for them... That's been the source of MANY of my relationship problems. (Note to self: work on that.)

And Jennifer came back with a couple more as well:

What is your favorite thing about yourself?

Oh that's EASY! I love my sense of humor. I try not to be too smug about it, but I know I'm pretty damn funny. And even if nobody else thinks I'm funny, I know I keep myself pretty damn entertained much of the time. It seems to take the edge off of my otherwise sometimes harsh personality.

What will you name your future children?

My future husband will certainly have some say in the matter, but the names that I have picked for my future babies are:

Girl: Rebecca Grace
Boy: Aidan James

I'm going to have to come up with some more names though because as my friends will tell you, I want a "mess-o'-kids" when the time is right.

Q&A round one.

Ok, here goes.

Dustin asked:
You've been blogging for awhile now it appears. What have you learned from writing your thoughts online?

I've always been a writer... and a talker. From blogging for over two years, I have most assuredly learned how to better write for my audience. But that's just the beginning. I've also learned that no matter how honest you want to be, there is always going to be some kind of self-censorship going on. In my particular case, it's not out of any desire to protect myself, because I am the same person in text as I am in life. I have found that more often than not, when I censor my words, it is to protect those for whom I care most... And to conceal the identity of certain people I write about, because most people are not nearly as honest with themselves or the rest of the world as I tend to be. (I don't mean this to self righteous, but it's just how I've observed things to be.)

I've also learned that I totally abuse the ellipsis (...) and I totally overuse commas.

Have you said anything on here that you regret?

Simple answer. No.

Have you met anyone from doing this?

I have not yet met anyone in person, but I do feel like I have gotten to know my readers, and I do have an offer to meet Jen on Memorial Day weekend, which would be kinda cool.

Why are you unemployed right now?

I am unemployed because I worked for a VERY SMALL (only 5 people, including me) real estate firm, and I was the only salaried employee. The boss figured that the brokers who all worked on commission could just step up their work to include aspects of my job, and therefore eliminate my position and my paycheck. So basically, I was downsized.

Why didn't you invite me out on monday night?

Because the commute from California to Chicago would have taken up entirely too much of the celebration time... But you're welcome to come out with us the next time!

And finally, why must I scroll down to read all of this?

Because I am guessing you are using a craptastic browser like Internet Explorer that doesn't display my page correctly. It shows up perfectly in Mozilla Firefox, and Firefox is a far superior browser, so look into it!

The Idle Receptionist queried:

If you could only eat one cheese for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Only one cheese? I am a cheese junkie! I can only pick one?!?!

If it can only be one, I'm going to have to pick a basic cheese so that it can be used in cheesy variations... I guess mozzarella. (Because let's face it, a grilled limburger sandwich doesn't sound at all appealing.)

Also, Ms. Bah'tendah, what is your fave drinky?

My favorite drink varies by mood, and by bar (because different restaurants use different recipes!) I'd say that the cocktail I gravitate to most, (roughly 70% of the time) would be what we bartenders jokingly call a "Cape Cod," the rest of the world refers to it as a vodka cranberry. (Top shelf, of course.)

Brenda Love inquired:
What is the stupidest thing you ever did or said?

Wow... Ok. I'll go with the stupidest thing I've ever said.

The stupidest thing I have ever said was actually to my mom when I was roughly 10. I said that I hated her because she wouldn't let me do something that was probably stupid anyway. I think that was the ONLY time I ever told my mom I hated her, and I regretted it the instant it rolled off my tongue. That was the stupidest thing I ever said, because it was a total lie, and it hurt my mom at the time. And we all know, I love my momma!

Jennifer wants to know:
What is your fulfilling, keep for a lifetime dream job?

If I could actually support myself while doing it, I would like to be a professional artist, but since I live in an era where art is not highly appreciated and supported, I have to think of factors like how I plan on supporting myself, and (god willing) a family... So in a realistic setting, I'm going to be a clinical psychologist who just paints on the weekends.

If you had to spend 6 months in a foreign country, which would it be?

Italy. I've been there, it's FABULOUS. And while living there for the 6 months, I'd take little excursions to all the other wonderful European countries!

What would you do if you won a million dollars?

Because I am practical, this is pretty easy. I'd pay off my student loan debts, I'd buy a sweet ass condo here in the city, I'd pay off my mom's house, get her a new car, and take her on an extended European vacation, and I'd put the rest in the bank, and go back to work. Of course I could be a lot more selective about my job when I've got a nice little nest egg to live on.

Since my life is pretty boring right now...

Not having a job means that aside from going out on the occasional interview, I am not really doing much of anything interesting.... So I'm going to steal an idea from Dustin and let you all do the hard part.

Basically, you kids write any questions that you have in the comments section of this post, and I will compose a post full of answers. Anything is fair game... Well almost anything. We'll just have to see what kinds of questions you crazies come up with.

So think about it. Is there anything you think I could be a little more open with you about? Is there anything you've been dying to know my take on? Let me know! This is your time to shine!

THIS HAS TO END!

Seriously it's been rainy, cold, and disgusting out for well over a week now! Now I know how Nello felt when she was talking about her stir-craziness and need for a little bit of sunshine. Now I love a good thunderstorm as much as the next person but there comes a point when enough is enough. All I want is a stretch of a few days where it's sunny, warm, and beautiful... you know, like it's supposed to be in the spring.

Between the hours spent inside at my computer looking for jobs, and the hours that are inhospitable because of this constant crappy weather, it's really no wonder that I've had so much to drink lately... I'm not trying to justify my drinking, but really let's be serious. Mother Nature doesn't have my liver health in mind... CLEARLY.

Is it just me...

Yeah, I don't know what the hell is going on. I don't know if it's just me, but all of a sudden since becoming unemployed I have apparently become exponentially cooler.

Seriously, I think while I am most assuredly having a good time, my liver HATES me right now.

I kicked things off with Drunken Cubbies Weekend, and it was all downhill from there... So here's that story.

Mel decided to swing through the windy city on her way back to Iowa because she visited her mom for mother's day, and well... We're on the way back, and we're awesome. Knowing that she would be in the area, she even sent out a mass e-mail advertising "Steak & Tots With Mel" ... So naturally I said I was in!

After visting people we both used to work with, and watching Dave play the didgeridoo for a little while, we headed out to Bruno's (Which is a TOTAL hole in the wall dive bar that the athletic department frequents)


While at Bruno's we had a few... Or several, depending on how you count.

And then we went to get Steak & Tots... Richard here didn't get a fork so he had to use a tot to anchor his steak as he cut it... Which is pretty awesome.


After Steak & Tots, we went BACK to Bruno's which we proceeded to close down.

And then we went to a reliable 4 AM bar... ON A MONDAY NIGHT.

God, we are all such hot sluts!


I mean really, look at this ho!

Richard is trying to play all coy... We know better!

And since I had been drinking for like 12 hours, I was more than a little affectionate...


But then aren't we all at that point?

You see, the coy image was just a facade!

I don't really know what was going on here.

The love gets recycled... and reciprocated.

And here are Frank and Mel, being hot.

And Richard trying to look like a serial killer.

I don't really know what to make of the look on his face in this one.

But now he's excited!

After spending the day recovering, I went out and spent my Tuesday night with Harsh at Matchbox and Silver Palm... (Like I said, my liver totally HATES me now.)

But while at Silver Palm, I noticed this sign on the bathroom wall.

And I think that's a good way to end the post!

THE WAIT IS OVER!!!!

I know you have all been anxiously awaiting the Drunken Cubbies Weekend post... Though I must say I don't think you were looking forward to reading about it nearly as much as I was looking forward to living it! I don't know if you all can truly grasp from these pictures the good time that was had by all involved! (Well... All involved except those girls at Wrigley Field... but, erm... well... we'll get to that.)

Again we were down at the Hard Rock Hotel, because we are hard rockers. (AND YOU KNOW THIS!)

On my way down to get the party started, I got another reason to celebrate. My sister Kim called me to tell me that she got engaged. She has found herself a good guy, and I think they are going to be very happy together! Its another good reason for drinking to commence! So I got to the hotel, had a beverage from the minibar, while we waited for Jon to show up... Jon is always a little slow on the go, but once he showed up, we had a drink down at the lobby bar while we were waiting on a call from Alana to find out where to meet up.

Jon, Tarreck, and Amanda are seen here, before the adventure truly began!

We headed up to Cullen's to meet with Alana. Here's another edition of "This is where our toes go" at Cullen's where the second annual Drunken Cubbies Weekend really got under way!

I've said for years that I am not photogenic... Here's another example. (But at least you get to see the blonde in action!)

Here's the DCWII crew. I must say, I actually look cute here, and with a good lookin' crew like this, you know there's nothing but trouble headed your way!

Tarreck is 100% organic cheese and cornball! (As I'm sure you'll see in the coming photos!)

After a few toasts, and the read drinking began, here's Jon, Tarreck, and Alana.

Like I said 100% CHEESE AND CORNBALL!

Well, they try hard...

These pictures are starting to get a little redundant... I think it had something to do with the alcohol consumption going on!


Our cabbie was good enough to take our picture on our way to the after hours bar... Amanda didn't last long at the after hours joint... She went back to the hotel about 15 minutes after this was taken.


Jon and Alana hammin' it up.


And again...

After closing down the bar, and going to the IHOP, we headed back to the hotel to sleep it off... And after laughing at each other for a while, we slept and slept hard!

And Saturday morning, Alana decided to go spend time with her family because it is, after all, Mother's Day weekend.

The rest of us went to the best damn ballpark in all the land! The legendary Wrigley Field!


It was a cloudy, cool day, but we did have some prime seats... (I mean there really isn't a bad seat in the house, but we were literally like 4 rows off of the field between first base and the visitor's bullpen.

Tarreck is still 100% cheese and cornball!

You gotta love the band that walks around and plays for the fans!

We asked the people couple of rows behind us to take our picture as a group, because the row immediately behind us was still empty... but that didn't last. And unfortunately this time the seats were not occupied by Vince Vaughn and his entourage.

You know how I mentioned that "All had fun except those girls at Wrigley Field" ... Well here's that story.

After a couple of innings, the row behind us did fill up. A group of about 10 people filed in, and immediately began pissing me off.

You kids know how I am about my baseball... Especially my Cubbies. Well these characters offered their running commentary and the only real facts I gleaned from the entirity of their babbling was that the men didn't know anything about baseball, and that the girls were total oxygen robbers.

Being so close to the bullpen meant that in the later innings when the relief pitchers were warming up they started asking the pitchers for a ball. And by "asking for a ball" I mean screaming for over an hour "CAN WE GET A BALL?" "HEY! PLEASE! CAN WE GET A BALL?" And after so long we all know my patience just runs dry. So I turned around and said, "Listen, ladies, I understand that you want a ball. This whole section knows that you want a fucking ball. But the fact is that after an hour of screaming, you still don't have a ball, and at this point, you're just fucking irritating. Its seriously been more than an hour, you haven't gotten a ball. And you know what, you're not getting a ball. Give it up... Give it up and let the rest of us enjoy the damn game."

Of course they called me a bitch, and babbled on and on sarcastically about how they didn't know it was illegal to yell at a baseball game. After about ten minutes they gave it up because I wasn't letting them get another rise out of me, because I didn't care what they said to me or about me, as long as they shut up about the ball. And that's exactly how it played out. They shut up about the ball, and I went back to enjoying myself. For the remainder of the weekend, I was known to my group as the trouble maker... but I did gain some respect, because, quite frankly, I increased their enjoyment too, and because I am awesome. After the game, we went back to the hotel for a nice long nap... Because you gotta rally for round 2!


Saturday night, after the nap, we went to dinner at Uncle Julio's Hacienda. Where Tarreck continued to demonstrate Cheese and Cornball content.

After dinner, Jon took off, and the rest of us went bowling. (Fortunately Lucky Strike Lanes keeps the liquor flowin!)

"Stay out of the gutter" That's really pretty sound advice for anyone... Especially for bowlers.

While we waited for a lane, Tarreck continued to ham it up.

Amanda showed those sluts at Lucky Strike Lanes which table the party was at... If we'd had singles, she'd have had a few stuffed in the waistband of her jeans.

Now Tarreck tries to play it straight, and of course, I have to mock him, because that's what our family is all about! (And I don't know why my hair doesn't look blonde here... because it really is QUITE blonde.)

Oh, these crazy kids!

And then it was time to grab some sweet two-tone shoes and BOWL!

I think this is the bowling alley equivalent of a senior photo!

Tarreck has never seen such glorious balls!

See, some bowling actually took place this time!

This one was shot as Tarreck was taking a bow ... Seeing as we got our asses handed to us on the lanes, I don't know why.

And then he started playing Babba-loo... He's a strange duck.

And around 3 AM we called it a night back at the hotel.

Sunday morning came, and again Tarreck took off without much ceremony, as he is known to do. And well, that's the story. It was a little more low-key this time, but I can tell you it was still a SOLID weekend... and while it was a different speed this time around, it was still on the same level! (And I think we're looking at having another DCW in August... OHHHH Lordy, this thing is gaining steam!)

And here are the quotes!

========================================================
DCWII QOTD

"Hey, where's that fur-burger pillow?" ~Tarreck

"Jon, I don't know what you did over there last night, but Alana wanted me to tell you it was very satisfying, and to say thanks." ~Tarreck

"A couple years ago I ran into my 5th grade teacher and she said to me, 'Oh hey! You look like you're a successful guy now... Funny, I thought you'd be in jail by now.'" ~Tarreck

"I've got a major case of bar-voice! I sound like a female version of Gary Busey." ~Liz

"I can't believe this weekend actually has it's own name! This is AWESOME!" ~Tarreck

(There were a lot more quotes, and we did play the phrase game again, but with the blood alcohol content of the weekend meant that not much was written down or logged.)

What does this say about me?

As absolutely, insanely, irrationally adorable as Kelly's kids are, I don't know them personally. And yet, I found myself using Kelly's dear son, Simon, for an away message.

The message said:

I believe Sim-O, in all his wisdom, said it best.

"QUACK!"

Seriously, I am 23 years old, and I am inexplicably quoting a three year old that I don't know... What does that say about me?

I don't really know, but I kinda like it.

Why do I think this is funny?

I don't really know why this is funny, but the jibberish part of it just makes me chuckle every time I watch it.

CRABS!

DRUNKEN CUBBIES WEEKEND IS UPON US!!

OH MY!

Don't come around here tomorrow looking for a weekend post. Because I will be out wreaking havoc on this city, and making sure they all remember my name! (And don't be thinking that we're going to let a little rain ruin this party... SHOOOOOOOT!)

As for the interview today, I think it went well. It took a while for them to get around to me, and the actual interview portion was quite quick, but they liked my resume, and seemed excited to see someone with some experience.

On a completely unrelated note, I must say that Angela Bassett has the most incredible arms in all of Hollywood! I mean DAYUM!

You sluts need to stay hot!

I have a new mantra!

Leave it to pop-folk music to re-invigorate me!

I got the new Jewel album last night, and I must say that Jewel - hot slut that she is - has singlehandedly brought me out of my funk! (Remind me of this the next time I am in one of those moods when "EVERYTHING SUCKS!")

If you are even remotely into Jewel, the new album is worth the money!

As for my new mantra, her song "Good Day" is spectacular!

I know that I hate it when people post song lyrics, and act like that's a proper post, because we all know they didn't write them, and if I wanted to see song lyrics I would just use my normal song lyric search to find them... I read blog posts for original material. But in the interest of helping you to understand my mantra, I'm going to post the lyrics of "Good Day" and hope that you don't think less of me!

I say to myself
"Self, why are you awake again? It's one a.m."
Standing with the fridge door wide open, staring
Such a sight, florescent light
The stars are bright
Might make a wish, if I believed in that shit
As it is, I might watch TV
Cause it's nice to see people more messed up than me
I say to myself, as I smile at the wall, let myself fall

It's gonna be all right, no matter what they say
It's gonna be a good day, just wait and see
It's gonna be okay, cause I'm okay with me
It's gonna be, it's gonna be, it's gotta be

I shiver, shut the door
Can't think standing here no more
I'm alone, my mind's racing, heart breaking
Can you be everything I need you to be?
Can you protect me like a daughter?
Can you love me like a father?
Can you drink me like water?
Say I'm like the desert, just hotter.

The point of it all
Is that if I should fall
Still you're name I'll call

It's gonna be all right, no matter what they say
It's gonna be a good day, just wait and see
It's gonna be okay, cause I'm okay with me
It's gonna be, it's gonna be

As long as we laugh out loud
Laugh like we're mad
Cause this crazy, mixed up beauty is all that we have
Because what's love but an itch we can't scratch,
A joke we can't catch
But still we laugh

I go back upstairs, turn off the TV
You say "I'll be okay baby, just wait and see."

It's gonna be all right, it's gonna be okay
Gonna be a good day, just wait, just see
Gonna okay, cause I'm okay with me
It's gonna be, it's gonna be, it's gonna be okay...

Uh-oh I'm awake again it's one a.m.
Staring. Such a sight...
Well, at least the stars are bright.

SEE!!! This is a fabulous mantra to have. And with that, I will dress for my interview, because IT'S GONNA BE A GOOD DAY!

STAY HOT YOU CRAZY BITCHES AND HOT SLUTS!

I forgot about that!!!

With the impending weekend of drunken amusements nearly upon us, I decided to spend much of my Wednesday doing some reconstructive work on myself.

I have cleaned my apartment (so far just the once over... the deep clean is tomorrow morning). I waxed my eyebrows (because I do a hot job all by my lonesome). I did the self-tanner thing (I have found a product which works with my skin very well so I don't turn orange, but I don't recommend it for everyone). And I touched up my roots and highlights.

And after my hair was all done and styled, I came to a realization... Actually, not so much a realization as just remembering something I accidentally forgot.

I forgot how much I like the blonde me!

I know this sounds shallow and silly, (Read: I know this paragraph is totally and utterly ridiculous, and we'd all be better off if you totally disregard me right now,) but I REALLY LIKE ME AS A BLONDE. And I know PLENTY of people to whom this does not apply, but in my personal experience, BLONDES DO HAVE MORE FUN! I mean don't get me wrong, I know plenty of REALLY FUN brunettes and red heads, and as someone who has tried both of those looks too, I had a pretty good time sporting those looks too... But I know I feel like I'm more fun as a blonde. I also like surprising people who buy into that whole "blondes are dumb" thing by proving that hair color has nothing to do with the cleverly concealed brain beneath my fair locks.

For those of you who are DYING to see the new look of Lizzle (This means you Marcia,) I promise lots of pictures from drunken Cubbies weekend, as this is the protocol established during the first annual drunken Cubbies weekend. (Last year, I was sporting the red head look.) So you can judge the old-vs-new look for yourself.

In other news, I missed my soccer game tonight because I am an idiot, and I had my weekly soccer announcements sent to my former work e-mail account, so that means with the loss of the job I also lost access to the e-mail account, and thus had no idea what time my game was, and I didn't think about calling Dave until Caro called and told me Dave was already on his way out to the game (which meant I was entirely too late to make it). I am a great big dummy. (Kind of like the dumb dinosaur.) (<--- Be sure to click on both the dinosaur and the hand at the VERY end!)

I also have an interview for a bartending job tomorrow.
(Wish my stupid ass some luck!)

I guess that's really all I've got for you!

Oh wait, no, I've got more.

How about some jokes with Einstein!
Einstein is a funny guy... Or if not so much a funny guy, a violent one.
Einstein is still trying the comedy circuit... and not having much luck.

And if that doesn't do it for you, well then hell, try some TINY PLAID NINJAS! (Personally I LOVE Floral ninja!) Seriously, watch them all!

I am feeling kinda like Kelly!

Kelly of Diary of the Nello fame is known, in all her fabulousness, for many things... among them:

• Her ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE children.
• Her FABULOUS web design, (Thanks again Kelly!)
• And her detest for laundry.

Right now I am feeling her on that last one.

I spent my Tuesday doing among other things, a grand total of 4 loads of laundry. (It should have been 5 loads, but I over-stuffed the 4 loads I did do.) At present, those four loads of laundry (2 loads of lights, 2 loads of darks, because I know you were REALLY wondering,) are resting in two giant heaps on my floor. Why? Because as much as I don't mind DOing laundry, I am not a fan of that whole hanging and folding thing.

I did my laundry in part because it really needed to be done, and in part because tomorrow I am going to chase down some leads on bartending jobs, and I'm gonna need to look decent.

I'm also gonna need all my hot clothes, because my cousin is coming to town this weekend to sponsor the second annual drunken Cubbies weekend. That means that in addition to having my already pristine jersey game-ready for the weekend, I've gotta have my going out gear all in line.

Speaking of the drunken Cubbies weekend, since Meljoy left us for Iowa, that means the guest list has changed this year. We're looking at a couple of hot prospects this time around. Caroline may or may not be working, so we've asked Alana to come into the city, and Caroline can join if she can swing it, we've got the tickets all lined up.

This is just the kind of weekend I need right now!

QOTD:

"I feel like a walking depression treatment commercial!" ~Harsh (wearing ALL grey)

"Seriously, Ray Charles wouldn't have even put this outfit together!" ~Harsh

You can't be mad...

As bad as it sucks to be laid off, especially in this shitty job market, you can't be mad when you realize that your severance package means you're still getting paid to stay at home and do your laundry, or go out drinking in the middle of the afternoon.

So far I have gotten things in order so that I can take the GRE in October, (which utterly terriffies me). I visited Anthony, I made a new friend Harsh, (Yes, that's his name). I've got three loads of laundry going right now, and I've got a nice big glass of wine hanging out right here. And I'm collecting a paycheck for it... Oh yeah, and I've looked for a new job. (I might very well be getting back into bartending.)

So that's my schpiel. I hope you all have had a lovely couple of days!

Sally is amazing!

My friend Sally always comes up with the most amazing quotes to put things into perspective... Today is no exception. Here is another of her gems.

"I'm saying you've already done plenty of things to regret, you just don't know what they are. It's when you discover them, when you see the folly in something you've done, and you wish that you had it to do over, but you know you can't, because it's too late. So you pick that thing up, and carry it with you to remind you that life goes on, the world will spin without you, you really don't matter in the end. Then you will gain character, because honesty will reach out from inside and tattoo itself across your face."

Thanks Sal!

Can I just plead insanity?

This is one of those mental health posts. It's not my norm here, so feel free to skip.

First things first, I would like to thank all of you for being so supportive. Your positive thoughts on my behalf are very much appreciated.

Secondly, I would like to report the findings of that scientific experiment. As it turns out, cocktails with sympathetic friends is very beneficial to mental health, even if only during the time that is spent directly with them.

What is NOT helpful to a fragile mental state is being stood up by a "friend" who knows about your mental state BEFORE standing you up, and stands you up anyway. Being the forgiving person that I am, I understand if something comes up... What is not cool is that there was no phone call to say that they were not coming, so I am left waiting, feeling like dog shit about my life anyway, only being made to feel worse when coming to the realization that someone I considered a friend didn't think I was worth a phone call even after telling me that they would gladly meet up with me, and was supposedly on the way. That's nice.

Knowing that my readers are supportive of me, and are easily irascible towards those who do me wrong, I know there are those of you who are irate at the thought of my being left waiting by anyone. And part of me certainly does, or did, feel betrayed by that individual, and I definitely went through that feeling of betrayal and anger. And I've gone through feeling like given my current situation, and the long series of events that have comprised my life lately, as though my life is a cosmic experiment on Murphy's Law, but the fact is that I have gotten used to behavior like this from lots of different people. And having repeatedly been exposed to this sort of thing, I know that staying mad about it never does me any good.

And so, in the interest of my mental health, I am dropping the baggage of anger, self-loathing, and self-pity. Those things are a heavy baggage, and I am tired of carrying them. I am laying them down. It takes far too much energy to stay mad. I will maintain my friendships with those that matter, and I will even maintain the friendship with the person who ditched me. I will forgive, but I will not forget. I will not forget being left alone, and I will not forget the kindnesses that have been shown by those who stuck by me. But I've got to keep moving on, because the truth of it is, the sun will go on shining, whether I stay mad and miserable or not... So I'm letting go... If only for my own mental health.

You know what helps?

Ok, so since the unfortunate events of yesterday, I have had a chance to give things a think... Here's what I have come up with:

1.) Yesterday when it was slow, (before I knew how the day would end) I took my lunch around 2:00 PM. And during that time I called my mom. During the conversation with my mom I said, "God, it's so slow today, I just hope they send me home early." Looking back on that statement, I guess I should've been more specific. (After it all went down, the first words I said to my mom were literally, "Well that definitely didn't go down as I'd previously planned." And then I had to explain... Which sucked.)

2.) I now regret not mentioning the broker's porn to the boss... That could've easily gotten me another month's pay.

3.) I've been down on myself since yesterday afternoon.

4.) I've heard many times that to keep your mind off of things when you're down, just stay busy... But that's hard to do when you find yourself out of a job.

5.) In an effort to "stay busy" since the unfortunate events of Cinco de Mayo, I cleaned my bathroom while drinking lots of wine (And I don't think it's been quite so spotless since I moved in!), I slept an excessive amount, and then I went to sling flowers for 10 hours... Turns out that working is a good way to take your mind off of being jobless. (Funny how that works, isn't it?)

6.) I have a theory that drinking with sympathetic friends also helps... I plan on conducting a very scientific study of that theory this evening. I'll get back to you with the results tomorrow!

Well that kind of sucks... (UPDATED: QOTD)

I went into work today thinking everything was hunky dory. The work day crept by at a snail's pace because there was nothing for me to do... And that's a bad thing.

When I assumed that everything was A-Ok, I couldn't have been more wrong.

Apparently the last four months of work and effort on my part have been in vain.

I was "let go."

The reasoning being that since the company I worked for was so small, and since I so frequently had slow days with nothing going on, my position was no longer necessary.

I have a month's severance.

Which means I've got a month to find something to do with my retarded ass.

Personally, I'm thinking that it's best I kick this month off with a really solid bender.

In fact, I hear a cocktail calling my name right about now.

Excuse me while I go answer that call!

QOTD

"GOD! I HATE CORPORATE AMERICA!" ~ Anthony

And BINGO was his name-O

I told my mom last night that she would know what this post was about the second she read the title... Odds are my mom is sitting at the computer doing one of two things: A) She is laughing already because she knows what's coming or B) She is shaking her head in disbelief saying, "I can't believe she's actually going to tell this story."

No matter mom's reaction, here goes!

It might be hard for some of you to believe that I was once a little kid, but it's true. I was. I wasn't so much a little kid as an adult trapped in a smaller, cuter body, with a sweet, innocent face and an overall lack of life experience. Even in first grade I was branded with the nickname "the walking dictionary" by my classmates and teachers. And basically, aside from being smaller, I had essentially the same personality then that I have now.

Now being the mini-me I was, even in kindergarten, I was never one to "play by the rules." Being the rugged individualist I was, even then, I was always ready to put my own spin on otherwise mundane work.

One day, after the class spent the morning learning the song about Bingo the dog, we were expected to draw a picture of Bingo the dog. And so, the class began their drawings. I wasn't having any of that simple- minded- draw- a- dog- like- everyone- else- bullshit. So I used the dog stencil, and while other kids colored their dogs brown or black, I colored mine brown with black spots... And yet, it still lacked the personal touch that I really wanted my work to have.

And so, I re-examined my work. I looked at that brown and black spotted dog. I evaluated all the ways that I could make this project my own.

Draw a dog house? No. That's cliche.

Draw a tree? Maybe some pretty flowers? No, that's been done.

Maybe a pretty red dog collar? No... That's not original enough for this rugged individualist! We need a stroke of true genius here! REAL INGENUITY!

And then it dawned on me.

I picked up my shiny little crayon, and labored over my drawing. My tongue twining its way out the corner of my mouth as I focused diligently on the task at hand.

And moments later, it was done. I laid down my crayon knowing that I had made my dog a true original among the masses!

I had placed my mark on this assignment, and in the process, I landed my work among the legendary masterworks of the day.

I had drawn Bingo taking a dump.

Yep.

There stood Bingo, a proud looking animal. Black and brown, with his tail in the air.

And below that tail, dog turds... Captured in mid-air... Rendered with all the realistic skill that was possible with my little 5 year old hand, armed with a crayola and the desire to stand out.

And stand out is EXACTLY what I did.

My teacher still displayed my work along with everyone else's. And mine truly was an original among the masses. So much so that the school librarian took notice of my work on the hallway corkboard display... And that same librarian promptly issued me a new nickname. From that instant on I was known to her, and to many of the faculty and staff at the school as "Bingo."

It was all down hill from there.

QOTD

Erin: "Are you working this weekend?"
Liz: "Both days, you?"
Erin: "Just Saturday."
Liz: "How'd you swing that one with Nate out of town this weekend?"
Erin: "Oh, you know I put out!"

Ok, Nello has sweet-ass T13 banners, so you should go check it out, and this week she has an awesome idea for the T13... So I'm stealing that too!

13 things you'd hate about me if you knew me in person...
(Please note: This is not about vanity, this is about being honest with my readers about who I really am.)

1. In case you hadn't already figured out from reading it here, I am honest... BRUTALLY HONEST. I'm just like that in real life too... Turns out most people would rather be lied to. Go figure.
2. I am a messy eater. You'd think that after 23+ years I'd have gotten it down by now... But I haven't. I always manage to get soup or soy sauce, or guacamole on myself... I know I hate this, it wouldn't surprise me if it bothers others too.
3. (I'm not tooting my own horn here, just letting you know why you might hate me) I have a genius-level IQ. So I know a lot. And I'm not afraid to tell you if I know the answer. And if I don't know the answer, I do know where to find the answer and get back to you.
4. I have a SPECTACULARLY good memory. I can repeat both sides of conversations I had in high school verbatim. (I did this once about 4 years after the conversation I was referring to, and thought the girl who I was repeating was going to shit herself.) It's also so good, I can tell you what I wore three weeks ago Tuesday. (Khaki pants and a green button down shirt in case you care.)
5. Combining 1,3, and 4 means that usually when I open my mouth, I know what I'm talking about, so I am rarely wrong. A lot of people REALLY hate this. (A reason to love me though is that I will tell you if I don't know something, I READILY admit the rare occasions when I am wrong, and because I know about a lot of stuff, I'm always a handy resource.)
6. I am funny... And I know it. (And sometimes this means I will go on entertaining long after some people cease to see the humor.)
7. In social situations, I like to at least say, "Hi," to everyone I know who is in attendance. Some of my less socially acquisitve friends hate going anywhere with me for this reason.
8. I am a little funny about my sports. Actually, I watch sports like a guy. I don't like a whole lot of idle chatter during the game, unless you're talking about the game or something directly related to the game (i.e. - last night's game, yesterday's injury during batting practice, etc.) This changes when I don't have an invested interest in the game. If I don't care, I watch the game like a chick. As far as superstitions go, I only have one, and it doesn't impact anyone other than me... A few people in my real life know about this one. (I might tell you later.)
9. I am loyal to a fault. I might tell my friend that I think they are wrong, but even if they are, I will stand by them as they go down in flames no matter what. (While the friends often appreciate this, people outside the situation have trouble understanding it.)
10. I am REALLY picky about certain things, and I don't give a rat's pink ass about others... trying to tease these two categories of things apart is next to impossible for anybody but me.
11. I don't respond well to threats or orders. This makes me a difficult person to deal with/live with. In the words of Ben, "You're one of the most rational people I've ever met... Certainly the most rational woman, but I'll tell you something, YOU'RE NO CUPCAKE TO DEAL WITH!"
12. I am not needy, but I do know what I want, and I am not afraid to tell you if you're not making me happy.
13. While I am otherwise totally independent, I am emotionally reliant on my mom... This means she knows the VAST majority of my secrets. A lot of people are a little weirded out by the fact that I tell my mom as much as I do. But I do it to retain some semblance of sanity for myself.

So there it is. Judge me.

Here Lies Lizzle the Uninsured...

So I get a phone call yesterday afternoon. It's the guy who my boss goes through to get my insurance... He tells me that I have been turned down for basic medical insurance. Why? Because of my migraines.

Apparently I am a high-risk candidate for an insurance policy because of other medical conditions which can come as a result of those migraines.

According to Blue Cross & Blue Shield of Illinois I am less insurable than:

• Courtney Love
• Ken Griffey Jr.'s Hamstrings
  
• Pete Doherty
• The hobos who live under Wacker Drive
• Any trapeze artist
• Children in the care of Michael Jackson
• Keith Richards
• Evel Knievel
  

All because I have migraines. MIGRAINES!?!?!

Lots of people have migraines! I mean I would understand if they turned me down because on my application I indicated my occupation as "Meth Lab Supervisor" or "Naomi Campbell's personal assisstant" but nooooooo. I was rejected because I have migraines.

This is such total bullshit!

DIE YUPPIE SCUM!

Contrary to what was written last week, I don't hate my job... It is now official. It was just hormones.

Like ANYBODY in the working world, (or at least anybody who doesn't have a sweet-ass job like "professional spa service evaluator" or "police sketch artist") there are certain things about my job that I dislike.

To cope with these things on days when they are particularly irksome, I take an early lunch, go outside, call my mom, and vent over the phone.

Today was just such a day. I found a reason to bitch, so I take my lunch, go outside, call mom and start bitching.

"So what the hell are you bitching about today?" you ask.

Well, the title should have been some kind of indicator for you... 6 or 7 of you just scrolled back up, didn't you?

Yeah.

I hate the yuppie scum.

Before we go any further, I think it's important to define exactly what yuppie scum is. Most of you are used to the classic definition "Young, Urban Professional." This is not really fair. Because there are plenty of young people who work in professional environments who I wouldn't necessarily call yuppie scum. The yuppie scum of this world are the people who are all high and mighty on their own ego. They are the people who think they can treat everyone else like dog shit because they are just OH-SO-IMPORTANT. These are the folks that walk into a cell phone store and say things like, "Um, I need a new phone. And I'm going to need 3 extra batteries because I'm very busy and important... So I have no time to sit and charge my phone battery." (True story: I actually heard a guy say this VERBATIM when I recently purchased my new phone.) The yuppie scum are the people who will continue along their oh-so-important lives in pursuit of becoming "The Man." (I mean "the man" as in, "DAMN THE MAN! SAVE THE EMPIRE" kind of way.) Yeah, you know those folks! I guarantee you are thinking of at least 3 people you know, and you're thinking, HOLY CRAP... Liz is right! [Bob, Steve, Angie, etc.] is yuppie scum, and must die!

So I come to the conclusion that I hate the yuppie scum. I say this to my mom. Mom tried to talk me out of this thinking... Here's a snippet of conversation:

Liz: "What was the mantra of your day? 'Die yuppie scum?'"
Mom: "If you say so."
Liz: "Yeah, well, I hate the yuppies, and they need to be stopped."
Mom: "Umm, well aren't you a yuppie?"
Liz: "NO!"
Mom: "Well, let's see... You're not in college anymore."
(Side note to mom... Thanks for that handy little reminder... That was the verbal equivalent of repeatedly pinching my tricep fat really hard.)
Liz: "Yeah mom... Thanks for the reminder. I know I'm not in college anymore."
Mom: "And you have a real job, in a real office."
Liz: "Yeah, I know... but I'm not yuppie scum!"
Mom: "Honey, I beg to differ. You're young and upwardly mobile."
Liz: "Yeah, but being Young and Upwardly Mobile doesn't make me a yuppie... IT MAKES ME A YUMMIE! I'm a yummie!"

Yeah, I am a Yummie... and if you're reading and finding yourself in agreement with this, and you work in an office you are probably a yummie too! The yummies of this world know that just because they have an education, and a job in an urban/office setting, you are not excused from rules of common courtesy. You know you still have to treat people with respect and common courtesy no matter their position in life, and no matter how that position relates to their own. (This does not apply when someone is seriously pissing you off... like a little old lady who honks at you when you're helping someone move... When someone makes an effort at pissing you off, the rules go out the window.) The yummies of the world are the ones who work in an office more or less out of necessity, and don't do it as a matter of ego, because let's face it, you gotta do something to make that paper. Sure some yummies love their jobs, and some of them will go on to make lots of money working in those offices at jobs they love, and that's fine. And the yummies of this world don't need to apologize for that, because they know that their job doesn't make them better than anyone else... However, the yummies of this world need to stand up and crush the egos of the yuppie scum of the world back into the urban cesspool they sprang from.

YUMMIES UNITE!

Picture pages!

Ok, my retarded ass is tired. Too tired to give you all a genuine post. So in lieu of a real, lengthy, written post, you are getting several pictures with the obligatory minimal textual explaination.

I mentioned that I helped Anthony paint last weekend... Here's my proof that painting took place. See that yellow stripe at the top? That was the last of one of the original colors.


Look at Anthony's hot ass... And then take note of all that crap around him... Yeah, see all that? That's what we moved this past weekend... (When I yelled at the lottle old lady.)


And for you non-Chicagoans, allow me to introduce you to the windy city's newest landmark. Officially it's called "Cloud Gate" ...

EVERYONE else calls it THE BEAN!

We're the only city in the world to have a giant polished stainless steel bean... And that makes us SO HOT.




If you walk underneath the bean and look up, you will see this. This part/view of the bean is referred to as the "omphalus" (Pronounced Om-fal-us) and literally means belly button.

So basically, Chicago has a monument to navel-gazing!