Friday, March 31, 2006

It's long but mildly amusing...

You scored 88% SWEET, 77% CHUNKY, and 81% UNIQUE!
banana ice cream with fudge chunks & walnuts

Frankly, you are nuts and you don't give a damn! You've got it all- you're a loving, caring person who enjoys getting wild & crazy and has a mind completely open to new experiences. You are a barrel of laughs and always up to something. You could probably stand to tone it down some and get your head out of the clouds, but there's nothing wrong with livin' it up now and then, and you certainly do!

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 92% on SWEET
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 85% on CHUNKY
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 93% on UNIQUE
Link: The Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Flavor Test written by weered1 on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Thursday, March 30, 2006

It's time to rebuild...

I've gotten my computer back... The problem was a "bad" hard drive.

Apparently the technological devices that I use are susceptible to, by some kind of osmosis, or telekinesis, or something, and have managed to end up being overcome by my pervasive "bad-ness" and just up and decided to go rogue.

So since my renegade hard drive had to be replaced, I lost everything and so now I've got to rebuild and re-customize my computer... FROM SCRATCH.

Fortunately for all of you, the Mardi Gras pictures were still in the camera and not on the BAD hard drive... That means that as soon as I get my photo-editing software uploaded again and get motivated to actually take the 5 minutes it'll take to download them you kids will get to see just how much fun we had on Fat Tuesday.

Basically, my weekend is going to be spent trying to get things back to some semblance of normalcy... GROSS.

I'm not ready to let it go!!!!!!

Back in college I was known by most as something of a lush. It was not uncommon for me to go to work, and for a number of people to come along and ask me what I did the night before... They wanted to know for 2 reasons, 1) because I was almost always out wreaking havoc on the city in the evening hours, and 2) (*Not to toot my own horn or anything but...*) I am a great story teller, so when it came to recounting my adventures, it was always a pretty damn good time for the listeners too... I attribute this to the fact that even while I'm drunk I have a spectacular capacity for memory, and attention to detail.

Funny thing is, that despite my legendary status for my benders, I always managed to keep it under control to a point where I was never late for work, I made it to 99% of the classes that I had actually planned on attending, (in the four years of my college career, there were literally only one or two classes that were missed as a direct result of nights out, but on the whole the classes I didn't attend were more likely to be attributed to the fact that I was a little sharper than a lot of people in the class, and I'd done the reading, and just didn't want to go.) It should be noted that in addition to being legendary for my drunken adventures, I was also infamous for not having an exemplary attendance record... (Like I said before, I'm not trying to toot my own horn here,) But hey, if you were able to maintain a very respectable grade point average, ace tests without ever cracking a book or attending a class, and hold down 2 jobs, all with little to no effort on your part, I'm betting that you'd have gone out and partied it up a bit too.

Being out of college less than a year, I'm still trying to adjust to this whole "growing up" and "being a mature adult" thing... Which means I still like to occasionally party it up on a weeknight... (I see this problem worsening as we head into summer when there are Cubs night games on WGN, and the beer gardens are open!) Last night was one of those weeknights that was decidedly meant to be spent out on the town.

I went to get my computer back from those evil bitches, and I got a call from my dear sweet Anthony. Dinner and drinks were in order for the evening. So we got together, we ate, we drank, we told childhood stories and laughed at each other to the point of nearly pissing ourselves, and then Caroline called... She had forgotten her keys, (because she is silly like that). So we went to the school, locked up for her, and took off to another bar so that Caroline could get a little food and alcohol into her system... The first bar the three of us gallivanted off to served up a round of drinks, but their kitchen was closed, so once Dave and Kevin arrived we decided to move on down the street where the kitchen was supposed to be open... bar number two had also already closed their kitchen. So we ran across the street to bar number three and finally found a haven where the kitchen was open until 1 AM. Caroline got her food, we sat around drinking heavily and talking about awesomely bad movies and TV, (including, but not limited to Roadhouse, any movie starring Steven Seagal, and the much anticipated Snakes on a Plane.) At last call, it was only Caroline, Dave, and myself left standing. Because we are awesome like that.

Getting up this morning was more than a bit of a challenge, and there was definitely a large dose of advil to make getting to work feasible, but here I sit, realizing that I'm not in college anymore, and that "responsible adults" don't hang until last call just because they can... I just can't believe that I have to let go of being a collegiate legend, and face being a "responsible adult" ... I'm not ready for that transition... I'm not ready to accept it and move on!

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

For those of you who follow the tournament like I do.

To anyone familiar with who Adam Morrison is, here's a funny little assembly of pictures...

The five stages of grief: Starring Adam Morrison. (Click to enlarge)


I know that most of you head over and see markus when you want a little dose of the ocean life, but today, I'm keeping my sea life story for posting here... if only because the picture was AWESOME!

I was bored at work, and stumbled across a story about someone paying a a few hundred dollars for a crab dinner... Now I was perplexed by this, because while I know that crab isn't the cheapest of foods, there should be something very special about that dinner to drive the cost up into the multiple hundreds of dollars... And there was!


If you want to read the whole story, you can check it out here!

I don't call that customer service...

Ok, I just want to know, do I have a sign on my back, or over my head or something that informs everyone else that it would be to their advantage to test my patience to the breaking point? Because while I am honestly non-violent much of the time, (in reality I'm almost entirely bark and almost no bite,) there are occasions when I feel like I've been driven to violent behavior... And in those cases I'm not the one to blame...

Well, last night I called about my computer because as you might recall, I took it in a few weeks ago for a problem... Last night's call-in effort was certainly trying my patience.

First, I called in, got forwarded to the wrong department, and sat on hold for 10 minutes before someone realized the mistake and forwarded me somewhere else, where I waited another 10 minutes on hold before getting fed up and trying to call in and go directly to the right department.

The second call, I got the right department right off, but was placed on hold for 15 minutes until their phone wigged out (for once it wasn't my phone) for whatever reason and hung up on me.

The third call, I got to the right department, was placed on hold, and waited for LITERALLY 30 minutes before anyone even asked what I needed. When he asked if I could hold I told him that I had just spent THIRTY MINUTES on hold, and if he wanted to tally up my previous efforts, I'd spent over an hour of my Tuesday night holding just to get an answer about my computer which was already two weeks overdue. He told me he was with the last customer and I shouldn't have to hold more than 5 or 10 minutes... So I begrudgingly said "FINE... Put me on hold, AGAIN." So I was on hold for another 15 minutes, and when he came back to help me, and I gave him all the requisite numbers, he tells me that my computer is still broken, and asks me if I want it to be sent out for repair. (I am absolutely, fumingly, insanely irate at this point.) I took a few deep breaths to keep from screaming so loud as to blow out his ear drums, and thus, in all liklihood ensure that he didn't hear me again this time, and I told him, "Listen, this thing was supposed to be DONE on the 13th. I brought it in on the 5th! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DONE OVER TWO WEEKS AGO, AND YOU'RE ASKING ME IF I WANT IT TO BE SENT OUT TO BE FIXED????? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

I think he understood at this point JUST how angry I was, because he then proceeded to tell me that he was only reading the orders on a computer screen, and if he looked for my actual computer that he might have more luck finding something out, and could he call me right back with an answer? (It's roughly 7:45 PM) "If you're calling me back with an answer tonight yeah, fine, but I don't want this crap delayed another day because of readily apparent incompetence." To which he replied, "Uhh, yeah, I'll call you right back!"

It's Wednesday morning, and I haven't heard back from the guy... The store has officially opened, and even as I type these words, I am on the phone trying to get answers... I'll let you know how it all turns out... Hopefully I won't have to go on a shooting spree, or purchase a lawnmower blade and hack people to pieces, since there is a waiting period to purchase firearms legally.

Ok, I just got off the phone, the computer is fixed, it's in, but nobody bothered to call and tell me about it. GREAT... GRAND... WONDERFUL.

I swear one of these days I'm just going to lose it and I'll start throwing sharpened bamboo poles into people's eye-sockets or shoving kebab skewers under their fingernails! I dunno....

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

The cop is facing jail time...

You know those moments when you just really see the hilarious irony in a real life situation?

Like this news article for example...

For those of you who don't want to bother going to the link, reading what's up, and coming back, the story is that the cop from the Village People is looking at prison time... The irony there is so thick you could choke on it!

Sometimes I mumble...

This is a long overdue edition of Lizzle's mumblings... you know the routine... It's like a bunch of mini-posts all rolled into one.


I know I haven't posted any quotes of the day lately, but I'm opting for quality over quantity... I mean if you should stumble into the archives from a good long while ago, when quotes were posted with remarkable regularity, you'll see that we have high standards here at the Happy Hour.

The fact is that since I graduated and got a real job, I don't have contact with nearly as many people who say hilarious stuff (intentionally or otherwise). And that lack of contact makes it a little difficult to find quality material for you folks.


After reading Idle's post, I decided to go on record as saying, America is like an awesome summer camp. Sure there are a few people that are only here because their parents made them come. And sure there are a hell of a lot of people who haven't been able to get in, and they're willing to break in if they gotta, because it's a legendarily good time, but the fact is that in order to get in, and reap all the benefits of being here, you gotta wait in line like everybody else, you're going to have to pay the boarding fee (taxes) and you're going to have to play by the rules, or you're gonna get sent home, because we're too busy being awesome to screw around with your ass.

So deal with it, or you don't get to go horseback riding! (And you'll probably miss the co-ed bonfire too.)


Speaking of summer camp, I can remember going to camp when I was a kid. It was a damn good time... It was definitely "rustic" though... We're talking genuine outhouses with NO semblance of plumbing, and four-legged critters crawling into people's sleeping bags at night... I can still remember the stink of those outhouses... It's one of those smells that will forever be etched into the landscape of my brain... God, I don't know what made me think of all that... But there were some good times had at the grotto after the counselors "went to bed"

They should have summer camp for adults!


Caroline mentioned the possibilty of me joining Dave's soccer team... This excites me. If there is anyone else in the greater Chicago area who would be interested in starting up a soccer, softball, or kickball team this spring and summer, let me know!! We're gonna take the field and wreck shop! It's gonna be great!


My retail therapy order came in today, and I'm thinking that for the first time ever I'm going to have to return an item! One of the pairs of jeans I got came out of the box looking very much like a pair of "mom jeans" ... They might look different when I try them on, but as they look now, they ain't sticking around too long!


Last week my mom sent me the movie "March of the Penguins" and I'm not kidding when I tell you that when I started playing it, I literally sat totally alone in my apartment watching and excitedly shrieking "PINGUINS!" (Yes, I know that's not how you spell Penguins, but when I said it, it was definitely spelled with an I)

If my neighbors happened to be listening, or knew that I was in fact 23 and not 6 years old, and completely alone in my apartment, I'm sure that someone would have called the local authorities for an inquest into my competency to live in an unsupervised setting.

But seriously, how cute are these guys!?!?!?


I don't know if it was just a regional thing where I was from, or if they had a national reach, for how long they were done, or if they are still done, but did you guys have "book fairs" as a kid?? I remember book fair week was frickin AWESOME to the 8 year old Lizzle... Man those were the days!

(Of course those were also the days when I was perfectly content to roll down the hill in my back yard inside a refrigerator box, and throw dirt clods at my brother... Wait, I'd still do both of those things! THOSE REALLY WERE THE DAYS!)


Is anyone else sitting there, thinking about the things you thought were fun as a kid, and then thinking, "You know that'd still be fun now!"

Because I know, I am.

Monday, March 27, 2006

You know to stop when....

I was enjoying a lovely night of volleyball at the gym on Friday night... (Some of you can see what's coming here, because you already know I was trying to enjoy a sporting event.) Since Holly was back in town for the weekend, we opted for "skybox seats" instead of our usual bleacher seats... Skybox is a Hollywood tradition!

It should be noted that the youngins who don't really care about the game have a tendency to gravitate towards the skybox, because ... well... the skybox is cool like that. So, being a supportive fan, and being in close proximity to youngins, (read highschoolians) who don't care about the game, trouble is brewing.

Two games into the match, I have gotten incredibly fed up with their constant bouncing of a practice ball on the track... I have tolerated being distracted from the match for as long as I can muster, and the less than rhythmic thumping of the ball is more than a little bit irritating... basically, I've decided someone is going down.

[C-Murda can attest to the factuality of this, as she was present.]

So I turned to these boys, and I asked them, "OK, SERIOUSLY, do you guys want to get stabbed in the heart? because that's about as fucking irritating as it can possibly be, and if it keeps up I'm going to stab one or both of you in the heart with my heel." (I was wearing stilleto boots.)

They apologized, moved away a bit, and stopped for a few minutes, but before long they started it up again... and this time the ball got away from one of them and bumped me in the back. Of course this prompted the death stare from me, and profuse apologies from them. I looked at them and said "KIDS, that's really fucking irritating, and all I want to do is watch the damn game... But I can't because you guys are fucking annoying me. I don't want to stab you, but I will."

They stopped.

The game ended.

We left and watched the NCAA hoops at a suburban sports bar. (For which I admittedly owe C some money.)

Getting a little creative...

Ok, I know I've never made a big deal of my religion here... because I don't think religion really has a place here. Yeah, it's a part of who I am, and yeah it is an important thing, but I don't think it really pertains to much of what is ever said here. I'm an asshole, a cynic, a bitch, a drinker, a partier, a whatever... it doesn't matter... I think all that is more important to understanding me than saying I'm a Catholic.

There, I said it, I'm Catholic.

Go ahead. Berate me, call me names, do your worst. It really doesn't bother me. I've heard the vast majority of it already. (It's not a religion people get particularly creative when trying to parody.)

Anyway, I'm writing all this because I was kind of put off by something while attending mass last night (yes, I go in the evenings... because God already knows I like to sleep in.) ANYWAY...

Those of you who either ARE Catholic (active, or otherwise) or have ever attended a Catholic mass, (for whatever reason) know that it's a fairly ritualized thing. There are times when everyone knows when to sit, stand, or kneel. There are certain responses that are uttered at certain times, and these things kind of universally transcend specific churches, so that they are done pretty much the same way no matter where you find yourself attending a Catholic mass.

Last night was not the standard mass for the Lizzle... Or anyone else in attendance.

I don't know if the priest was new, (he didn't look new by any measure!) or if he had some congregation-induced "stage fright," or if the real priest was abducted by Tom Cruise and brainwashed into Scientology and carrying Tom's baby or something, and thus the real priest was replaced last-minute by a thetan who was vaguely familiar with the Catholic mass and thought he could fake it, or what.

Whatever the reason, all I know is that this mass was OFF. It was like the priest was trying to do some kind of improv, and mix it up a little, he added extraneous phrases and self-interjections... It was kind of hard to concentrate on the real reason I was in church when I've got this guy trying to put his own little mark on the service.

So I just want to note that when something is kinda ritualized, be it a mass, a certain rite of passage, etc, and other people are kind of reliant on you doing your part a certain way, this is not the time to try and get all creative and witty. It ain't gonna fly nearly as well as you're hoping. It's not the time or place to add in your own little histrionics... We just want the standard form... It'll be a lot easier on all of us in the long run.

(I know this post is not at all entertaining to a lot of you, but it's a Monday, I can't focus, and I was so irritated by this guy, that it was the only thing I could focus enough to write about... Sorry again... Maybe if it were a better weekend in basketball I'd have something positive to say about life.)

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Yep. I'm kind of a dummy... and a bad friend.

Ok, first off, I would like to point out that I am kind of a dummy.

I was mistaken when I noted Beckett as a Cubs pitcher... He is in fact on the Red Sox, (The only AL team I actually follow, and while I'm not trying to make excuses, I think I just got mixed up.) I am only noting this here in addition to the comments section, because one of the things that makes me as awesome as I am, is that when I'm wrong I own it. When I drink too much and puke, I own up to it and admit that too... (Though as my sisters will attest this hasn't happened for a couple of years!)

The fact that I was wrong about a fact pertaining to MY TEAM has humbled me significantly. I must strive to make this error right. So either I have to find a way to engineer a Beckett trade to the Cubs, or I've got to go out of my way to humble more men with sports trivia. Seeing as I don't have any friends in high places with the Cubs front office, I'm thinking I'm going to have to keep being the sports girl and humbling men to incredibly decimating degrees...

Yep, that sounds like a plan.

Ok, and now that that is all out of my system, I would like to further own up to another misdeed.

I am a bad friend.

J-Dubs (aka Ling Wong) had a going away party on Saturday night, and I did not attend. Why? Because A.) I am a bad friend, and B.) I was not feeling well, and I went to bed at like 9 PM instead of seeing my friend off like I should have.

I'm sorry I missed the party Ling Wong... I'm an ass.

Crimeny, this post was just a giant slice of the ol' humble pie for me!

Friday, March 24, 2006

There's got to be a better way!

After reading this article, I've reached a tipping point in my tolerance for this kind of news.

Ok, to all you married/engaged/long-term involved people out there, I've got some news for you.

I know this will come as a shock, but listen up... You don't have to kill your significant other to be rid of them!

In this great nation of ours (great despite being led by the bumbling-est of bumbling idiots) there are ways of getting out of a relationship that don't involve blood, guts, body disposal, or jail time!!

It's called divorce. I know they can get a little messy, but I think in the long run it's less messy than trying to get blood out of your living room carpet. Normally I'm an advocate of the "Stay and work it out" school of thought, but seriously, if you despise someone enough to want to bump them off, you might want to just look into a good divorce lawyer... And the odds are pretty damn good that you should have done it a good long while ago!

The Sports Girl...

In the course of the last couple of days I have utterly humiliated a couple of men. (I know this is usually a hobby of mine, but these two scenes were particularly memorable to me, and likely to them.) As a female sports nerd, I relish the opportunity to essentially castrate a man with sports info.

Scene 1: On Monday I was at lunch, and had neglected to bring a book to read... This left me pretty bored. I could really only spend so much time looking at the wall in front of me before becoming even more bored, so I took to listening to a conversation taking place behind me. (Normally I'm not an eavesdropper, but they were talking about the NCAA tournament, and well, I really couldn't help it!) One man was a UCLA fan. (A sound pick in my estimation.) The other was an Illinois fan... (Somewhat dodgier in the grand scheme of things.) The following is what I heard:
UCLA Guy: Hey, when was the last time you guys had a national title?
Illinois Guy: I don't remember the exact year, but I think we had one in the late fifties.
UCLA: The late fifties? You have to go back a half a century to find a championship? Jeez, no wonder you all got beat!
Illinois: Hey I didn't say it was recent, but I'm sticking with my team.
[The two begin to pack up and throw away their lunches, and not one to let errors in sports knowledge go by, I took it upon myself to chime in.]
Liz: You're wrong.
Illinois: What?
Liz: You're wrong about Illinois, and if you're going to call them "your team" it might help if you knew what you were talking about.
UCLA: What do you mean he's wrong?
Liz: Illinois has never won the national title.
Liz: No. They didn't. In fact, the only team in the entire state of Illinois ever to win the national title was Loyola Chicago, and they didn't do it in the 50s, they did it in 1963.
[Illinois guy stood aghast]
UCLA: Umm, dude I don't think you're allowed to call yourself a man anymore, because a girl in a sushi shop just robbed you of your manhood... I bet that stings a little. I mean in addition to the fact that you have no hopes of a national title now, and apparently none in the past either, now you can't even call yourself a man... OUCH. Have a nice day, miss... And THANK YOU!

Scene two took place only last night.
As I was waiting for a train to go home a guy approached me and started chatting me up. He didn't look like a total douche bag, but when he opened his mouth he proved otherwise. He asked a few inane questions about my job, and then as the train pulled up he asked where I was from. I told him Southern Indiana.
Guy: Oh like where Larry Bird is from?
Liz: No, further south, and west... Where Don Mattingly is from.
Guy: Who?
[A different guy snickers in the background.]
Liz: Don Mattingly... He played for the Yankees.
Guy: Oh... Yeah, Don Mattingly. (Clearly clueless.) Was he any good?
Liz: Uhh, yeah, he led the AL in batting average for a couple seasons, had a few gold gloves, was AL MVP in '85... he's a hitting coach for the Yankees now.
Guy: Oh yeah, didn't he play for LA?
Liz: No, spent his entire career in New York.
[other guy continues snickering]
Guy: So you're a Yankee fan?
Liz: GOD NO, I'm a Cubs fan.
Guy: You think they're gonna be any good this year?
Liz: Well, I hope so, but I have my doubts because our pitching is in the toilet at the moment... And I don't think that Maddux, Zambrano, and Beckett are going to be able to carry us all season.
Snickering guy: Yeah, but you picked up some solid hitting
[Snickering guy and I have a lengthy discussion about the merits of the Cubs until the other guy gets off the train]
Snickering guy: Yeah, I'm sorry I was laughing back there, I couldn't help it. He was clueless!
Liz: Yeah, tell me about it...
Snickering guy: I mean I'm sorry, but if you're trying to impress somebody, at least try and steer the conversation to something that you know about! He just kept trying to talk baseball and it was obvious he had no idea.
Liz: Thank you for interrupting him! If I was going to talk baseball, It was nice to have someone who knows what the hell I mean when I speak.
Snickering guy: No problem!
[And then I got off the train.]

So yeah, me and my sports knowledge has humbled and deflated the egos of two guys in the last week! In the words of Martha Stewart, "It's a good thing!"

Thursday, March 23, 2006

The buzz is growing!!!

Or in the case of SNAKES ON A PLANE, maybe the hiss is growing...

Here's an article I greatly enjoyed in my following of the developing "Snakes on a Plane" saga!

[I especially love the line that has been added to the movie based on fanbase demand (mentioned toward the bottom of the article)]


As a 6 year old stuck in a 23 year old body, I do enjoy the occasional animated movie. Especially ones that are as intelligent as the Toy Story movies... And the other day as I rode home from work, I saw something that brought this movie to mind.

For those of you familiar with the sequel to this movie, you might recall Mrs. Potato Head packing Mr. Potato Head's "Angry Eyes" (just in case) and well, the angry eyes are generally accompanied by angry eyebrows.

As I ride home from work on a nightly basis, occasionally I am on the same bus as a woman who boards a little bit north of my workplace... SHE has some SERIOUS angry eyebrows! And while ordinarily I wouldn't think much of someone having angry eyebrows, her's are different!


Because they are drawn on.

Yeah, this woman took the time to shave or wax off her natural eyebrows, and then drew on BIG, THICK, ANGRY eyebrows... I'm serious these things are harsh! (And she's an otherwise empirically attractive girl.) Part of me wants to tell her, "Honey, that shit looks awful, you might want to draw them on thinner, lighter, and higher." But that part of me is absolutely terrified of her because of the anger that is painted on her upper eye/lower forehead at present, and thus won't comment on the cosmetic choices of this stranger.

Speaking of angry eyebrows, and angry eyes, I'm currently directing my own angry eyes/brows at one of my student loan companies... They don't offer automatic payment options, so I am forced to remember when to send their check every month... This compounded by the fact that I didn't know the payments had started in February on this loan (instead of March, like all my other loans, and since I didn't get a statement from them until last week, I thought I was still ok on this one...) But they have since taken to harassing my 85 year old grandfather because they somehow got his phone number. Now you'd think that in order to harass a member of my family multiple times daily via phone that they were after a VAST sum of money, right? Nope... they just want $38.50, That's all. I shot my angry eyes/brows/voice in their direction AGAIN today and told them to stop harassing my elderly grandfather, and to call me directly if they had any problems with the account... Clearly they either had no idea who they were dealing with, or they knew exactly who they were dealing with and were rightly too afraid to contact me directly!


After all that, it was time for some retail therapy... So I shopped online and found some $200 jeans and some $130 jeans and got them for $40 and $30 respectively, and then I found other stuff to go with them... and now I feel better.
Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about Lizzle

1. I personally don't think that I'm the raging war monger that you all might seem to think I am... I'm actually more of a pacifist, but on the rare occasion that someone thinks its wise to come at me all wrong... well... Let's just say that if you cross me you can be pretty sure that you're going down... because I don't lose.

2. I minored in studio art in college (as some of you know) because I am passionate about my art... But even when art is concerned, I'm kind of a slacker because while I do have 14 active canvasses right now, I haven't painted on any of them in over a 2 weeks. (I blame India and March madness for causing me temporary insanity and facillitating this hiatus)

3. I think living in the city for as long as I have has turned me into something of a snob... I critique food/beverages, fashion, language/grammar, music, movies, Bars, etc... And I don't know how to feel about the fact that I am so damn critical.

4. I think despite being critical, I am non-judgemental... I figure a lot of people just have bad taste because they haven't had the opportunity to be exposed to the good stuff!

5. I am part Native American... (So I have no problem scalping a bitch if need be.)

6. I still bite my nails... And I hate that fact.

7. I went to the same highschool as my parents, my grandparents, and this guy.

8. I absolutely HATE the "electric slide" and when it is played at wedding receptions and other occasions I want to disembowel the person responsible for playing it... I enjoy the hokey pokey though!

9. I think I might have divulged this information before, but I'll say it again, I was so disgusted by the hygiene habits, (as well as her overall personality, and how she treated people I loved,) of a girl I knew in college that I secretly scrubbed the community shower drain, and the toilet with her toothbrush, and didn't mention it to her... I figured her mouth was like a scummy nasty toilet anyway, so it couldn't hurt anything... It was one of those motorized toothbrushes, and on the rare occasion that I actually heard it being used, part of me shuddered, and part of me smiled triumphantly. (See... If you piss me off enough, I'll find a way to get you. And you may never know about it.)

10. My first car was a '95 Chevy Cavalier, his name was Calvin. He was totalled on my prom night. (Not my fault.)

11. My first job was as a lifeguard working for the city... Despite all it's bad points, (and believe me, there were some DOOZIES!) It is still my favorite of all the jobs I've ever had.

12. I had a security blanket when I was little. It had little bows printed on it. I called it my "bows blanket." It was the shit, and I loved it to pieces... Literally. (It disappeared when we moved, and that was the end of the bows blanket.

13. I learned how to diagram a sentence in the 5th grade. I haven't done it at all since 7th grade, but I'm pretty damned sure that I could still do it...

UPDATE: Yes, I can still do it.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

I don't F-ing know!

Ok, basically I know what is causing my funk. I hope to have it resolved in the next few days. In other news, India is still there, and they are still not doing anything to help me with the backup system. It's a daily thing now... I might hate this more than doing retailer maps... (And I hate retailer maps A LOT.)

In other news my friend HOLLYWOOD is coming to visit this weekend! I haven't Hollywood since last May, (she had to move home to Texas for medical reasons) and I have missed her terribly. (And I know I'm not the only one!) Hollywood's triumphant (though presently temporary) return will be glorious! And we can't wait until she's back for good!

While we will celebrate the return of one friend, we will also be mourning the loss of another. Ling Wong is moving to Omaha... For her man. While we wish Ling Wong and her man all the best, we will miss her pieces, and we're certainly sorry to see her go, though we are happy that she is getting out of her bad working environment.

Now I have to just add this in closing, I wish all of my friends would STOP MOVING AWAY... I mean really, Hollywood left, then I graduated from school, so that means a lot of my friends either moved back to their hometowns or took jobs in the burbs, (Alana, Ben, Erik, James, Kevin, Emily, Crystal, Erin, Erin, Dana, Sarah, et al.) and then Mel decides that she has to go to Iowa to go back to school, and now Ling Wong!!!!! Seriously! If Anthony and Caroline move somewhere else I'm going to have to either kill myself or move to Burma.

Dolly... I think all that plastic in your face and chest has given you psychic powers!

"I hope to never retire. I hope to be doing this until the day I die and I hope to fall dead in the middle of a song when I'm 100."

Dolly Parton

(So, basically this should happen, when? Next week? Tomorrow?)

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

This week sucks.

It's Tuesday morning, and I am declaring outright that this week sucks.

After all the rage yesterday, sleeping last night was a considerable challenge. And for those of you who don't already know, (I don't think there are many of you who will find this to be altogether shocking) getting to sleep at 4 AM makes getting up at 7 AM a considerable challenge.

I then get to work only to find that the backup system screwed up last night, and so I had to spend the first hour of my day on the phone with India, and that pretty much brings us up to speed.

I'm sorry everybody, my foul mood isn't doing anything for any of us here at the happy hour... It'll pass... I hope.

Monday, March 20, 2006

The seething rage is PALPABLE.

As I went to get my lunch this afternoon someone asked me for directions as we stood waiting for the crosswalk signal to change... Here was the exchange:

Guy: Excuse me?
Liz: (In what I had thought was a rather innocuous answering) Yes?
Guy: DAMN GIRL! From the look on your face, I'd say you were ready to take a bite out of the world... or at least decapitate me.
Liz: Sorry... What did you need?
Guy: Uh, well, I just need to know if I'm going the right way to get to [point X]?
Liz: Yeah, it's a block that way on the left.
Guy: Thanks... and don't let the world get you down like that.

Now, I have to add that I REALLY REALLY hate when people make comments like that last thing... It's like when you're walking down the street and people look at you and say "Smile! It can't be that bad." Well let me tell you something. IT. CAN. BE. AND. IS. THAT. BAD. SO. SHUT. THE. HELL. UP. BEFORE. I. RIP. YOUR. FACE. AND. SCALP. OFF. AND. THROW. IT. INTO. A. SEWER. DRAIN.

Here endeth the current rant.

After heavy conversation, my friends do what they can to lift my spirits...

[insert very heavy conversation via IM here]

M: ok, this may put a smile on your face... last night i was chatting with one of my friends on IM i asked him what he had been doing all day. His exact words: "sitting on my dance." i stared at the screen, trying to figure out what that meant
Liz: "sitting on my dance???"
M: maybe he thought his dance was out of control the previous night.
Liz: you didn't ask for an explaination?
M: before i could say anything else, he typed "i have no idea what the hell i meant by that"
M: apparently the vodka has the same effect on him as it does on me. i think we need to incorporate this into everyday conversations... like the game with tarreck and jon
M: how many times can you get "sitting on my dance" into a convo?
Liz: God I hope Tarreck comes back for another Cubs weekend
M: yes! and let him know that i had ohio state as one of my final four teams. osu let me down... heck, the whole big ten let me down
Liz: they let a lot of us down
M: in other news, i love college boys
Liz: Oh M... You ain't gettin any younger! they can't support you in the lifestyle to which you've become accustomed
M: i know. BUT... i'm trying to diversify
Liz: YOU do not need to diversify.
M: in fact, this past weekend i made out with the lone black kid on the [Men's basketball] team... only four more black kids on campus to go... JUST KIDDING
Liz: M, you made out with literally 50% of the black students on your campus!
M: 20%... ok!
Liz: oh there are 5?
M: yup... all guys
Liz: the other night at dinner you said there were 2
M: i found more
M: i'm so horrible!
Liz : No, we're not racist, I mean we embrace diversity... and in your case, you "LOVE"diversity!
M: I DO!! the dutch are ambassadors to the world
Liz: I hope you realize that this conversation will be quoted liberally.
M: as long as it doesn't count as a hate crime
Liz: I think if anything, in your case it could be called a "Crime of passion!"
M: i am pretty passionate about that topic
Liz: what, diversity? or not being prosecuted for hate crimes
M: making out
Liz: thats a good thing to be passionate about if you ask me
M: i'm a fan
Liz: dude, that's like saying I'm a fan of laughing... NOBODY doesn't like it!
M: well, i had to convince this one kid that i'm not a fan of kissing because he wasn't that good of a kisser... ugh. it was one of the hardest things EVER
Liz: well EVERYONE enjoys a good laugh, and EVERYONE enjoys a good makeout... just because not everyone is funny, and not everyone is a good kisser doesn't make it any less of a good thing when done properly
M: very true
Liz: and I think kissing is like art... some people are masterful at it, the Michelangelo's of kissing as it were... and some people have a talent for a very different kissing style.... more like the Jackson Pollock(s) or Pablo Picasso(s) of the kissing world... and then there are those who stick to really bad rudimentary stuff because they never cultivated a talent for it early on.
M: i never made out as a child, but my first kiss was under a bed at the tender age of 4... i can't draw stick people to save my life, but i think i'm a pretty good kisser (is my name going to be quoted in this??) if you use this part...i think you should definitely keep your analogy of artists in the post
Liz: I'm not saying that artistic ability, or the age at which you began making out are relevant... I'm saying that it's a skill thing... and that there are different tastes for different skills out there, and then there are some people who just suck.
Liz: I, of course, am a Michelangelo of the make-out world... As evidenced by the fact that I have REPEATEDLY been told that I am outstanding at it, by multiple independent sources.

[The conversation ends here because M had to leave for a valid reason... but you get the idea.]

Oh yeah? ... BRING IT.

Ok, first off let's establish something from the start here. For those of you who overlooked the mention of hormones in my last post, beware. They are present, they are raging, and they are causing me to seethe.

Let's establish something else here, our computer backup system is non-functional again... This means I get to spend hours of my work day on the phone with people in India trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with this thing... (I've had the same conversations about 65 times in the three months that I've worked here... basically, this thing is a piece of junk and I am ready to take it up to the roof, and drop it on an unsuspecting pedestrian... Preferrably some rich snooty old woman with a yappy dog!) This continuing problem with the backup system causes my seething to be palpable throughout the office.

My mom, upon hearing my revelation last night said that I needed to make out with a guy, a serious drink, or sleep... Sleep didn't help, I don't have a boy to make out with, and so tonight I believe I will be turning my anger on the bottle... I will crawl into the bottom of that bottle and hang out there until I start to feel better... Or at least until I have to get up for work on Tuesday (which won't be pretty to begin with, but will be even less pretty because I will almost certainly have to call India AGAIN.)

It's about lunch time, and I am just about at my wits end... This day is not going my way.

Beer, Basketball, and the Lizzle...

I can capture my sentiments from this year's tournament in one sentence:


Yeah... I think that about covers it.

Long story short, I drank beer, I watched basketball, I lost my sanity, and I did all of these things to an alarming degree.

And then, when it all came to a close, so that the players have a few days worth or rest before resuming their abuse (on me) I had a revelation... An important one, unfortunately not the kind I can put up here.

Basically, this prompted an almost simultaneous phone call to my mom, a lot of tears, and more questions than answers. Basically, the Lizzle needs a hug and some positive thoughts from you kids in the next couple of days.

Moving away from that, so as not to depress you, (as it certainly depressed me) I will note that I am now at work, there is nothing to do, there is nobody else here, and the only people who have called are people who work here... So why did I have to get up so early??

Oh hell, that's depressing me too... I think the hormones are outweighing any hope of good writing today... Sorry kids!

Friday, March 17, 2006


Well, maybe they haven't landed just yet, but those bitches are on their way!

Thanks to Michael K, who brought to my attention that the "Snakes On A Plane" trailer is available for viewing...

Personally, I though this second one was a hell of a lot funnier, and I think I would be about 900 times more likely to see the movie if this was the trailer that was being aired repeatedly during NCAA hoops games!

I mentioned the other day that in the highly unlikely event that I were to join a celebrity's official fan club, I'd join Christopher Walken's... well, I'd like to ammend that statement to say that Samuel L. Jackson comes in second! (He's one bad mother fucker! ... Oh wait, no, that's Shaft... But Samuel L. Played Shaft, so it all works!)


Just a quick thought...

I came to a sudden realization last night!

I'm actually really REALLY happy that Britney Spears is hanging out in Hawaii these days, because with each passing second the odds that we'll see K-Fed appear on the next season of "Dog the Bounty Hunter" increase exponentially!

We beer drinkers appreciate this kind of thing!

It's Homer Simpson's dream come true.

The phrase "beer on tap" took on a literal meaning for a Norwegian woman who turned on her kitchen faucet this weekend to find the alcoholic drink pouring out instead of plain old H2O.

"We had settled down for a cozy Saturday evening, had a nice dinner, and I was just going to clean up a little," Haldis Gundersen, 50, told The Associated Press by telephone Monday. "I turned on the kitchen faucet and beer came out."

Meanwhile, patrons and employees at the Big Tower Bar in Kristiandsund in western Norway were having their own mix-up two floors down, with water gushing out of the beer taps.

All had a botched plumbing job to thank for the miracle.

You see, someone at the bar accidentally connected the beer hoses to the water pipes for Gundersen's apartment.

Unfortunately, according to Gundersen, the beer was flat and not in the least bit tasty or tempting — even in a country where half-liter (pint)-sized brewskies can cost about 25 kroner ($3.75) in grocery stores

Per Egil Myrvang, of the local beer distributor, said he helped bartenders reconnect the pipes by telephone.

"The water and beer pipes do touch each other, but you have to be really creative to connect them together," he told local newspapers.

Gundersen joked about having the pub send up free beer for her next party.

"But maybe it would be easier if they just invited me down for a beer," she said.

(Thanks Markus)

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Thirteen Things about LIZZLE

1. I have a little freckle on the tip of my right middle toe... it's my third favorite distinctive mark on my body (And I fully expect someone to use that mark to identify my corpse one day when I turn up in a morgue in Denver... or Dayton.

2. Few things bother me more than improper language... As far as I'm concerned, if you don't know how to speak, then shut the hell up so I don't have to listen to your retarded ass. An example: The other day I was walking towards my apartment when two women got off a crowded bus. One woman said to the other "Before I knew it, it was just getting crowdeder, and crowdeder, and crowdeder!" Hearing this infuriated me, and as she said it, it took every bit of willpower I possessed not to punch her in the head and scream, "CROWDEDER IS NOT A WORD YOU DUMB SLUT!"

3. The people in my office actually make fun of me for the frequency with which I eat sushi for lunch.

4. I LOVE myself some Wisconsin boys... (As evidenced by two crushes I had on athletes from Wisconsin whilst working in the athletic department!)

5. I graduated from college almost a year ago, and I still don't have my actual paper diploma yet... Hmmm.

6. If I were ever to join a celebrity's official fan club (highly unlikely) I would be a member of Christopher Walken's fan club!

7. I get mad at the fact that Koolaid touts itself as being a good source of vitamin C... Seriously, who thinks, OH! I should give my kid Koolaid because it's a good source of vitamin C... If you want a healthy dose of vitamin C drink orange juice, NOT Koolaid!

8. The last time I slow danced with anybody was at a wedding nearly 4 years ago... Remembering that fact makes me sad.

9. My favorite beer is Guinness Extra Stout... I get bummed out because none of my bars have it in stock and it's rare to find it in the grocery in my hood.

10. Despite my age I have a curious fascination with Veggie Tales...

11. I even have a talking Larry the Cucumber keychain... and the Silly Songs with Larry CD

12. I can burp the alphabet... (This is not a skill I employ on a frequent basis.)

13. I love St. Patrick's day because it's an excuse to drink all day, wear something a little crazy and green (though no furry green vests or fanny packs! We're not quite THAT crazy) and take a trip by the Chicago River to see it dyed NEON green!

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Transit stories!

Ok, first off, let me apologize for the appearance of the last post... the margins are all jacked for some reason, and after much frustration and effort to fix them, they have remained as they are... so if you really want to read it all, just highlight the post and read the stuff that you couldn't see before like that... I'm sick of fiddling with it and having no luck in getting it to look any different, so you'll just have to deal.

Ok, now that that's done, I'll get to the heart of the matter... Transit stories. Basically, nothing else is happening these days, so you get a tale from my legendary past adventures in public transportation. Those who know me personally have probably heard most or all of my gruesome travel stories, and this is why I have a reputation for being the un-luckiest Chicagoan in all the land when it comes to public transport. Those of you in the blogging world haven't heard these tales told in their full glory, though I'm fairly certain that you have noted the mention of them in other posts.

Picture it... Three college freshmen, all female, none indigenous to the state of Illinois, let alone being a storied resident of Chicago proper for more than a few weeks. There is me, a fresh-faced little Hoosier, only a few weeks removed from the environs of my Hoosier-dom. At that time, I had no family in the city, and in point of fact, the only friends in the greater Chicago area were those whom I'd managed to meet in the friendly confines of my college campus. There is Kirsten, my best friend, and like-minded girl, an Ohio State Buckeye through and through. She is probably the one person who has a personality so similar to my own that I would swear we were siblings separated at birth, if not for significant physical dispairites which made it obvious that this was not the case. She's one of the few people who reminds me a lot of myself who I actually adore. And then there is Katie... Sweet, innocent little Katie! A Minnesotan girl, who is so diametrically opposed to Kirsten and myself that it was inevitable that we should take her under our blackened wings, and promptly corrupt her... Katie, though academically brilliant, is more than a little bit timid, and when flustered says things like "Heck!" "Golly!" "Darn it!" and "Oh, Jeez!" (The cartoon character whom I would most liken Katie to would be Piglet.) Sweet little innocent Katie had, to this point, led a very VERY sheltered life... We blame Minnesota for allowing this.

So the three of us decide to venture into the greater downtown area for one reason or another, (if memory serves I believe it was shopping and having a lunch on State Street.) So we walk to the train station, wait for the train, and promptly board when it arrives.

Kirsten and Katie immediately seated themselves in the nearly empty car. Out of habit, I surveyed my fellow passengers, just so I am aware of those with whom I share the ride... It is during this quick once-over of my fellow passengers that I notice something that I was not prepared for... Seated directly opposite my friends was an otherwise unassuming man, who I happened to notice was quietly sitting in his seat with his manhood rather prominently displayed in his lap... outside the confines of his pants.

Kirsten and Katie had failed to notice this.

Part of me couldn't help but laugh at this, because at the time I thought it was not a frequent occurence to see a penis on a train, I have since been proven wrong in this line of thought.

Keeping my wits about me, and being protective of Katie's innocence I leaned into my friends and whispered, "Ummm, guys, you may or may not want to just take my word for it, but that guy over there... Well... He has his pickle out."

Kirsten turned and looked at me, certain she had misunderstood what was just said... I gave her a look in return that indicated that she was not mistaken. Meanwhile, Katie looked at me incredulously and hoped for some indication that I was only lying to her in an effort to see her get flustered... I wasn't lying.

Kirsten immediately turned, looked, and broke out in a stifled fit of laughter. Meanwhile Katie lost a little bit of her innocence as she looked, and her little eyes glanced over to what I assume was the first REAL penis she'd ever seen, and as I watched her eyes grow ever-wider with dismay, I watched them grow to an incredible size, and honestly I fully expected them to fall out of her skull and dangle by the optic nerves...

Kirsten and I are trying to control our outright laughter, and Katie is clearly in a frenzied state, begging us to figure something out. "Guys!!! What do we do? Do we get into another car?"

Calmly, I quelled her fears... "Katie, I think for your sake, we'd better get on another TRAIN."

So at the next stop, we left the man and his pickle aboard the train, and we boarded the next one when it arrived.

Kirsten summed up her point of view so perfectly by saying, "I don't know what was funnier, the fact that that just happened, or the fact that you called it a pickle!"

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

You kids and your comments!

You crazy scamps amuse me so much with your commenting! Since we have established JUST how into March Madness I am, I would like to further elaborate on the topic by responding to your comments.

Comments appear as regular text, my response appears in BOLD.


Usually I like bracket day. I get my bracket, I choose which names are prettier, compare mascots, etc. (I don't know much, but I always have fun!) And then I make Notre Dame win the whole thing.

Usually, I can delude myself into thinknig that we have some sort of chance.

I'm going to pretend that ND was a #1 seed, and we got knocked out in the first round, and I NO ONE is going to tell me otherwise!!

Gravatar The amount of misspellings and typos in that previous comment is ridiculous. I am no longer going to claim that I work in the publishing industry or that I even went to college at all.

Gravatar One of my fav. days of the year too! I love March Madness. It makes me mad!

I'm so glad that I am in such good company!

Gravatar That's right, Liz is down with basketball and high fashion. Someday, some man will end up very happy.

Gravatar Yeah, Liz. You're like the perfect girl!

I filled out a bracket last year (And by "I" I mean "my boyfriend's mom" as I havn't a clue about sports in general.) and even I was at refreshing like a mofo.

I almost forgot to mention...

It was brought to my attention last night that I neglected to mention something very important to all of you...

Ray (aka - legendarily terrible call-back guy) called back.

Some of you are staring at your screens dumbfounded with disbelief... (This was more or less my reaction to the call,) Others of you saw this coming, and as such, you will be proud of how things were handled once I got my bearings.

Liz: "Hello?"
Ray: "Hey, Liz, it's Ray."
L: "Oh.... Uhhh... Hello Ray."
R: "So, what's going on?"
L: "Nothing, I'm just going home from work."
R: "Oh, that's cool..."
L: "Listen, I told you how this conversation needed to start the last time we talked."
R: "What?"
L: "You were a dick the last time we talked... And I told you that you better start off by apologizing, or not waste my time by calling."
R: "Wait a second! You're calling me a dick? YOU HUNG UP ON ME! I think I should hear an apology."
L: "See, that's where you're wrong... And apology or not, don't call me again, EVER."
[And then I hung up on him.]

Monday, March 13, 2006


Ok you crazy sluts! You know what today is... And if you don't, shift your eyes ever so slightly upward and read the title of this post.

That's right! IT'S BRACKET DAY!

Being the nerd that I am, I look forward to bracket day more than I look forward to Christmas! (And no, I'm not kidding.)

Bracket day is literally what keeps me from killing myself in the chilly, grey Midwestern winter months. (Again, no, I'm not kidding.)

Bracket day is a reason for me to go on living, when all else has failed me.

March Madness makes me crazy in a spectacular kind of way. And I do mean crazy, I literally lose my mind this time of year!

It is an excuse to spend whole weeks constantly refreshing for the latest scores and injury updates!

It facilitates 5-hour-long conversations with my former roommate, and compatriot in craziness, Kirsten, "The Admiral," who is made equally insane by a college hoops overload of epic, yet annual proportions. Kirsten has gone so crazy that she has literally taken a dump and wiped her ass with her bracket because she was doing so poorly *despite her hoops expertise. (Again, NO, I'M NOT KIDDING.) (*She is, however, INCREDIBLY gifted at predicting the 5-12 upsets EVERY year!)

Those of you who know me well, know that with the exception of televised sports, and Project Runway, I avoid TV with the same vociferousness that I avoid dog poop... (You know, occasionally you lose your focus, and find it in your immediate vicinity.) Well, you all should know that I actually went to the expense and trouble of having cable installed in my apartment this weekend so that I could actually watch tournament action from my own home, while drinking Guinness Extra Stout --Because you can't find Guinness Extra Stout ANYWHERE! Yeah, I haven't had TV since my move last May, and I brought cable TV into my home so that I could enjoy hoops and beer... If you know me, you know exactly how huge that is, and exactly what kind of dedication to a cause this kind of thing is for me!

Anyway, you get the picture... Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go fill out my bracket!


Yes, I am here to report that despite the stunningly beautiful weather here in Chicago, it is a sad sad day.

Murphy, my beautiful blue fish has gone on to greater things.

Murphy saw me through some very tough times, and was always a great listener, he never interrupted me when I was upset and just needed someone to talk to... Not once!

He was a delight, always cracking jokes, and humming to himself. And never in my life have I ever met anyone with such a gift for entertaining children.

Murphy was a bright spot in so many lives. He touched so many of us in so many ways.

He was a very special boy, and I think it is a safe assumption that he will be missed by all of us.

Murphy passed away at home on Saturday after a long battle with illness. Services are held on Saturday afternoon, they were private, and brief. In lieu of flowers, please make donations to the Lizzle mourning fund. The funds will be disbursed at assorted beverage-service establishments, to aid those who knew Murphy in the grieving process.

And here are a couple of shots of Murphy in better times... because he would want us to remember him as he was!

Friday, March 10, 2006

I'm a softie...

Most of the time I am a cold, and bitter woman. (This is especially true in the morning.) But this morning, I felt my icy, cold heart melt a little bit, because as I looked up from my book, I peered out the window of the bus, and I saw several little ducklings swimming along.

I don't know about you, but I know my icy heart is no match for cute baby animals. I don't even resist anymore... I just accept that part of me has an inherent weak spot for cuteness. So here are some ducklings for the rest of you... Here's hoping that you're just as weak as I am.

Life on the short end of the stick...

I'm used to getting shafted out of positive things that are due to come my way... I've come to accept it as a large part of my existence, and a big factor in being the person I've become. (A moderate optimist with a bit of a cynical streak that keeps me grounded.)

Once again, I'm finding that I'm being forced to accept the short end of the stick, and all I can say is that I saw it coming from a long way off, but it still really pisses me off, and leaves me with a sense of embitterment.

Here's the background on the story: My grandmother (the one who is still alive, though in the active process of dying, and presently lacking a lot of her faculties,) has collected a certain kind of figurines for as long as I can remember. These figurines have a hefty price tag per item, and grandma has amassed quite a collection over the years. It was established many years ago, that as the oldest granddaughter, I was set to inherit them upon the arrival of grandma's demise.

Fast forward to a little over three months ago. My uncle, who was battling cancer moved into my grandma's house, because grandma was living in a nursing home, and it was all on one floor so it was easier for him to handle in a weakened condition after chemotherapy. When he moved in, it was conversationally established that the figurines were all still there. They were stored away, and out of view, but they were there. In early January, my uncle passed away, leaving the house unoccupied once again.

Fast forward again to this week. I get a phone call from my father.

Dad: "Hey, kiddo, I've got a question for you."
Liz: "Ok, shoot."
Dad: "When you were home, do you remember seeing those figurines?"
Liz: "Uhh... no. I wasn't aware I was supposed to be looking for them."
Dad: "Oh... Well, since your grandma is in the nursing home, we were going to go ahead and sell her house, so we started going through everything and packing it up, and we've looked everywhere, and we can't find them."
Liz: "You can't find them?"
Dad: "Yeah, I don't know where they are... When your uncle was here, they were all stored in that hutch by the front door... And now we can't find them... We don't know where they are."
Liz: "Uh-huh... I see... Well, I don't know where they are, because I was only over there for about 20 minutes, with you and Jim, and I never saw them."
Dad: "Hmm... Well, I don't know what to tell you kiddo!"
Liz: "Yeah, well, nothing really to say..."

Now here's the thing. I know that certain members of my family read this page. I want to establish here and now that I'm not openly accusing anyone of stealing the figurines. However, I am not surprised that they have suddenly "gone missing" and I have my suspicions about where they went, and I'm more than a little sure that Uncle Jim didn't take them with him... Largely because there was only so much room in that casket.

If they should ever turn up, (and I don't think they will... But if they do, it won't be for a long time,) they would rightfully be mine according to the will, but the cynic in me says that I won't ever see them. I am being shafted out of the one thing that I was due to inherit from my grandmother, and I'm not at all surprised... Though I am offended and appalled that it happened, I'm not surprised.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Classic Caroline...

When I was out with Caroline for Mardi Gras, we had this little exchange, and it amused me, though I forgot to mention it in all the MG hubub...

(As we approach the first bar of the night)

Caroline: [very excited tone] "OOOOOH, Do you see what I see?"
Liz: "I see a bike... chained up... with the front wheel off"
Caroline: "Oh, what? You honestly think that's gonna stop me?"
Liz: "I should have known better..."

Another away message gem for the ages!

"So I'm going through all my clothes looking for my spring break/summer stuff and then I'm gettin' the wrinkles out with this steamer (which is really fun by the way... my mom decided that we needed a commercial style clothing steamer like you see at all the stores in the mall, I dig it) anyway so I get to this one skirt and I'm pretty sure there is vomit on it from a previous year.... thats so gross yet so awesome all at the same time!"

I'm personally thinking that it falls more on the gross side, and less on the awesome side in the grand spectrum of things.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006


I love my peanuts... (To clarify, I refer to all the babies in my family, as well as some of my friends as "peanuts")

These are a couple pictures of my cousin's baby... Her name is Olivia! Isn't she a sweet little peanut?

Barry Bonds was on steroids???? NO WAY!!!!

Yeah, so yesterday CNN/CNNSI broke the story that said Barry Bonds is a steroid feind.

To that I just have one thing to say...

"UHHHH, YA' THINK?!?!?!?"

I mean really... was there ever any doubt? (And if you said "Yeah, I really didn't think he was doping!" then you my friend, are a damn fool.)

Sorry, I'm a baseball geek... This stuff just gets me all riled up. I mean these people are acting like this is BIG news! It's not news... It's just a closer look at the obvious!

(Oh, and for the record, as you already know, I am a Cubs fan, and I still readily admit that Sammy was TOTALLY doping back in his heyday too!)

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Check back with me...

Yeah, so some of you already know that I'm having problems with my home computer again, so I had to take it in to the shop and have it checked out. That means that I'll be blogging strictly from work, so this week's selection of posts might be somewhat diminished when compared to the usual variety.

Also, there hasn't been much of interest going on lately, with the exception of that AWFUL call-back... and I'm very interested in your insights and thoughts on that call, so if you haven't commented, please do so! But anyway, since there isn't much going on, there is not a whole lot to write about... And for that I'm sorry. And I'd post Mardi Gras pictures, but I don't really want to load them onto the computer at the office just to be able to get them up. You'll see them once I get my computer back, and there will also be pictures from "Steak & Tots" night with Mel, who paid us a visit yesterday. (No, I didn't have steak... I had the club sandwich and tots instead!)

Jeez-- I'm reporting to you all what I had for dinner last night... and I didn't even cook it! That's how bad the writing has gotten here! Seriously, why do you keep coming back?

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Attention Gentlemen... THIS IS NOT HOW TO DO IT!

This weekend started out innocently enough. Friday when I got home from work, I decided to order in some food, and just stay in and watch movies. And that's what I did. I then spent much of Saturday cozied up in my bed with a good book. Then J-Dub called.

After getting my grubby ass properly readied for a night out on the town, I headed over to see J-Dub at her place... We had a drink and proceeded over to meet up with some more people at Sweet-Ass-Brian's place. While at S-A-Brian's, we drank some more, and occupied our time by watching the UNC-Duke game... (UNC won, and it made me happy to see Duke defeated on their own turf... Because I hate Duke.) But while the game was still on, I got a phone call from a number I didn't recognize. (Please note that this was roughly 10PM on a Saturday night, so I broke my traditional screening rules and answered the call anyway, already having a pretty good idea of who it was.)

It was Mardi Gras Make Out Guy.

(Conversational aside here: Ok... So the few people who have heard this story as I tell it first-hand have told me that I deserve to have my own one-woman show for this kind of thing... And I admit that the show would be pretty damn funny to the ladies who have dealt with this kind of thing, and for guys I think it might be more than a little educational. That said, I think that a great deal of the absurd hilarity of the following conversational recap will be lost when translated into text. But anyway, here goes nothing.)

Refreshing your vignette of the overall scene: Saturday night, roughly 10:00 PM, I am at a friend's apartment watching the final minutes of the UNC-Duke game. (And for the sake of clarity, I will go ahead and preface this by saying you should read all of the following and imagine it being VERY VERY awkward, and not at all funny or in a joking manner... Everything said was meant in a serious context. And this conversation is QUITE long, so I apologize if you don't want to suffer the awkwardness of the whole thing!)

Liz: "Hello?"
Ray: "Hey, Liz?"
Liz: "Yeah, who is this?"
Ray: "It's Ray."
Liz: "Oh, hi..."
Ray: "You don't remember me do you?"
Liz: "Oh no, I remember you."
Ray: "Oh yeah, who am I?"
Liz: "Uhh, I think we've covered this, you're Ray."
Ray: "Yeah, but where did we meet?"
L: "We met at the bar on Mardi Gras."
R: "Oh, so you do remember."
L: "Yeah, I told you I did.
[Big moment in the game occurs, and the friends start making noises in response to big game hooplah]
R: "Where are you, and who is making all that noise?"
L: "I'm over at a friend's place, and those were my friends making noise."
R: "Oh, that's kind of obnoxious."
L: "Yeah, well, we're watching the game."
R: "Well would you mind pulling yourself away from your friends so that I can actually talk to you?"
L: [A little appalled that a guy I don't know has interrupted my Saturday night and literally asked me to get away from my friends while I'm out] "Umm.... Yeah.... Hang on."
(I walk into the kitchen so that I can hear him, but I have really bad reception in the kitchen.)
L: Ok, what's up?
R: Well, speaking of obnoxious friends, is your really obnoxious friend with you?
L: MY REALLY OBNOXIOUS FRIEND? Do you mean Caroline?
R: Yeah, I think that was her name... Is she there?
L: Uhh, as a matter of fact, no, but she does happen to be one of my best friends, and I don't think we're starting off well with you calling her "REALLY obnoxious."
R: Well, I mean obnoxious in a good way.
L: Yeah, obnoxious isn't exactly the best word to use when trying to paint someone in a good light, especially when you're talking about my friend.
R: Well, whatever.
L: Yeah....
R: Well, I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner, I've just been really busy and stuff this week, and so I figured I'd call you now and see what you were up to this weekend.
L: Well, right now I'm out with my friends, and we were watching the game. [I meant this to imply that I wanted to get back to my friends and the game, so he'd be better off keeping it brief, but that was apparently a little too subtle.]
R: Oh... So what are you doing Saturday?
L: Um, IT IS Saturday.
R: OH, right... I guess I'm just a little bit off right now.
L: Yeah... I guess... That happens.
R: So what are you doing tomorrow night?
L: I think I'm getting together with some people and watching the Oscars.
R: You're watching the Oscars?
L: Yep, I'm watching the Oscars.
R: Why?
L: Umm, because I enjoy them, and I want to.
R: Uh-Huh...
L: MMM-Kay....
R: Why did you say that? I didn't ask you anything.
L: Umm, all I said was MMM-Kay... I didn't know that you had to ask something.
R: Yeah, ok, whatever... So about Tuesday... I kind of really fucked things up with my girlfriend by making out with you, so we broke up, and I'm kind of trying to move away from that now.
L: Your girlfriend?
R: Yeah, well, now Ex-girlfriend. You didn't talk to her?
L:Umm, no, not to my knowledge.
R: You sure she didn't talk to you?
L: Umm, no, the only girl I talked to was Caroline, my "obnoxious" friend.
R: Oh... uhhh... well she was there, and she may or may not have talked to you.
L: Well, I don't recall having the pleasure of meeting her.
R: Well she's not important, like I said I fucked things up with her, so I'm trying to get away from that.
L: Mmm-hmmm.
R: Why did you say that?
L: Say what? I said "Mmm-hmm."
R: Yeah, why did you say that?
L: [VERY confused] Umm, I guess I was affirming that I was listening to you.
R: Uhh, yeah... So if we were going to get together, when would we do that?
L: Well, I work a 9-5 kind of job, so evenings or weekends.
R: So what do you do?
L: I work in a real estate office downtown.
R: Oh, are you licensed in real estate?
L: No. I just work in the office.
R: Oh, ok, so when would you like to get together?
L: Umm, well, like I said evenings or weekends are better for me because I work full time during the week, but aside from the time I'm actually at work I am available a lot of the time.
R:[Bad reception causes whatever he said here to be garbled and unintelligible]
L: I'm sorry, what?
R: Why are you always saying 'huh?' and 'what?' are you not listening to me?
L: Umm, yeah, sorry, the phone kind of cut out there, and I couldn't understand what you said.
R: Oh... ok... Well I was asking if you were really going to be watching the Oscars tomorrow.
L: Yeah, I already told you that was what I was going to be doing.
R: So you're really going to watch the Oscars?
L: Yep. I think we've been over that.
R: Ok, well, I'm trying to get you to invite me to come watch the Oscars with you.
L: Well, I would, but it's not exactly MY party, so I'm not really in the place to be inviting people over.
R: Oh... Yeah...
L: Listen, you don't need to get all mad because I have plans that don't include you... I don't even know you, and if you keep it up I'll hang up and go back to ENJOYING my Saturday night.
R: You won't hang up on me.
L: Ok, clearly you don't know who you're talking to, because I very easily CAN and WILL hang up on you if this continues.
R: If what continues?
L: This conversation as it's going right now.
R: What are you talking about?
L: Tell me something, do you HONESTLY think this conversation is going well right now?
R: Well...
L: I tell you what... I'm going to go back and watch the end of the game now. And you can call me later next week and open our next conversation with "I'm sorry, I was really drunk and I don't remember talking to you... I was probably a dick, so I'm apologizing before I say anything else."
R: What? You're going to go watch the game? Instead of talking to me?
L: Yeah, I'm going to go watch the game, because I'm a sports fan, and that's what I do.
R: You're going to go watch the end of the game instead of talking to me?
L: Yeah, once again we've covered this. And like I said before if you decide that you want to call me again, your opening words had better be "I'm sorry." Otherwise, don't bother calling and wasting my time.
[At this point I hung up on him, and walked back in to see the final seconds of the game, and try to explain to my friends what had just happened on the phone... Needless to say it was the worst callback EVER, and I was kind of at a loss for words when trying to explain it!]

So guys, when calling a girl back, here are a few pointers to use for your own benefit.
  1. Don't call her on a Saturday night at 10:00 PM.
  2. Keep it light, nothing too serious, nothing too heavy, nothing that's going to get anyone in trouble.
  3. When she tells you she has plans already, don't try to invite yourself along, if she wants you there, she'll say so.
  4. Don't mention the fact that the night you met and made out with her, that your girlfriend was present and got pissed off... We don't need to know that kind of thing, because it indicates to us that you made out with us not only while you still had a girlfriend, but that you did it while she was present... This makes you look like a real piece of shit.
  5. The first phone call should be brief unless she makes EVERY indication that she wants to talk to you at great length right then... This is especially true if the girl has indicated that she's in the middle of something.
  6. The first call should be made to operate as smoothly as possible, you should try to get off the phone immediately at the first sign that things are going awry.
  7. Don't get snippy about ANYTHING on the first call... it makes you look bad.
  8. Never underestimate the girl... you don't really know her, and if she's smart, she won't put up with any bullshit from you, and if you think she won't hang up on you, you're mistaken.
  9. Last, but certainly not least, DON'T-- AT ANY POINT-- badmouth her friends, her plans, or anything else that you don't really know about, because you don't really know the girl.

That is all. Please proceed with your day as usual.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

These are my friends...

The following was an away message belonging to one of my friends... It amused me a great deal.

"So I ordered a 'Big 10' last night... First of all, I think they put rum in my coke and second of all I'm pretty sure I drank the ranch like a shot. 2 questions... How did I get so drunk? And how did I get so drunk?... I think I will fall over if I try to stand up right now. I suck."

God, do I ever love these people!

Friday, March 03, 2006

"With all due respect..."

Ok, first off, let me note that with regard to physical appearances, I am not one to toot my own horn. In fact, it's a rare occasion that I will ever admit to looking pretty hot in anything, and the people I usually am willing to say such a thing to are Anthony, Caroline, and my mom.

What I'm getting at with that opening paragraph is just that I don't want you all thinking I'm writing this post just to fish for compliments... I'm not. I'm writing this up because something about this incident bothered me. So without further ado, here is the recounting of the incident.

Yesterday, I left the office early in the day to run an errand. As I exited the front door of my office building, I was greeted by two men walking down Michigan Ave. One of them looked at me and said, "How you doin' today?" to which I replied, "Just fine, thanks."

After a brief conference with his friend, he follows up with this little gem, "With all due respect, girl, you is prid-dee!"

I am not the type of girl to be turned on by cat calling. Never have been... I was particularly put off ("put off", meaning disgusted without being offended) by this line for a couple of reasons, which should be fairly obvious. So I replied to it with a simple, "With all due respect, if you're going to bother with complimenting me, you'd get further with proper grammar, than you would with a lame-ass, improper comment like that. Have a nice day." I then turned the corner and went on my way.

Now really, am I irrational to want to be complimented with proper grammar? Is that so much to ask? Just a little plain English, as it should be, and not as you have decided to alter it?

Am I wrong to ask for that?

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Don't judge me!

Yeah, so I've been a little light on posting lately, so this afternoon, you're getting a little fluff to act as a filler... I thought they were entertaining!


Take this quiz at


Lizzle is mostly likely to say the out-of-date phrase:
Word to your mother
Bill Gates

Because they were trying to kill you with a tazer
Take this quiz at

(Funny thing is, I actually do say "word to your mother" ALL THE TIME!)


In all of the hullabaloo having to do with Mardi Gras, I damn near forgot a very important event! Today is the 21st birthday of a very special girl!

Miss Karla Stephansen, you madam, are 21, and you know what that means! It's time to plan a trip into the city, and live it up properly!

Girrrrrrrl, you don't know what you're in for!

Ummmmm.... YEAH.

Ok, so Mardi Gras was Tuesday. Yesterday was Wednesday, and I didn't post about it, WHY? Well, I'll tell you.

Things got a little crazy on Fat Tuesday, as things tend to do when I go out with Caroline. And despite the fact that I still had to work on Wednesday, I still stayed out until a little after 4:00 in the morning... And that's how our story begins.

Actually I suppose I should probably do a proper recap of the events of the actual Mardi Gras celebration, so I guess THAT'S where it really begins.

Tuesday - 5:05 PM - I leave work, calling Caro to see what time she wants to meet up... She doesn't answer, so I go home, have a light dinner, and wait to hear from her punk ass.

7:30 PM - Caroline calls, we agree to meet up at her place of business at 9:30 and proceed to the bar from there. In hindsight, I should have looked at this weekend-style starting time, and known that it meant trouble.

9:30 PM - I meet up with Caro, and after some chatting, we head out to the bar.

10:00 PM - A bowl of seafood gumbo, and a cocktail sit in front of me at our table.

10:25 PM - Bowl of gumbo and first cocktail are still on the table, both properly drained of their contents.

10:28 PM - Bowls and empty glasses are removed, and replaced by shots, which are also promptly drained and removed.

10:30 PM - Drinking really begins... (and continues to about 4:00 AM.)

Wednesday - 2:00 AM - The bar we started at closes, and we move on to another, seedier bar to round out the evening.

3:00 AM - I am ENTIRELY too drunk, and meet a guy who's name I can't remember, make out with him an OBSCENE amount. (Because when I'm that drunk, PDA rules kinda go out the window.)

4:00 AM - After-hours bar closes, and I proceed home. (No, the boy I made out with did not come home with me, so get your head out of the gutter.)

4:15 AM - I get out of the cab, and set my alarm clock (on my phone) as I walk into the front door of my building.

4:20 AM - I get stuff ready for my morning coffee, and jump into the shower.

4:35 AM - I actually go to bed. (Insert long period of sleep here.)

10:00 AM - I wake up...

10:00 and 3 seconds AM - I WIG OUT because I realize my alarm did not go off, and I was supposed to be at work at 9. I proceed to dress and apply makeup faster than I have ever done in my life.

10:10 AM - I call my boss to let him know that my alarm clock didn't go off, and that I am on my way to the office as we speak.

10:30 AM - I get to my desk, apologize to the boss again for being late, and I spend the day at work TOTALLY hungover. (Unlike SOME PEOPLE who called in "sick"... ::Cough Cough - Caroline. Cough::)

5:15 PM - I leave work only to go home, put on a movie, and crash, HARD!

So you see, I've been on a day-long hiatus with good reason.

Pictures from the festivities will follow in a later post, and I'm sending some to Caroline so that she will actually post about something for a change!

So that's that... and this is this. Here are some quotes:

"Seriously, how big are her tits? I knew they looked bigger! Jeez, I mean it looks like someone lifted up her shirt and shoved 2 throw pillows up there!" ~Caroline, on Kelly (aka Filthy Pig)

"OH, HI! Oh my god, you're my student! And I'm REALLY REALLY drunk... I hope I'm not so drunk that you end up seeing my boobs later!" ~Caroline

"You want to know the best part, it's all on camera!" ~The 7-11 clerk, after a rather amusing incident that will not be detailed in this post.