Yeah, I admit that I enjoy a bit of the tabloids now and then. It's a guilty pleasure. Mostly because of the show TMZ. I know it started as a website, but I did not really read it. Once I caught the show, I was hooked. I love seeing the people who work there interact. It's funny and usually way more entertaining than the actual celebrity gossip. Check your local listings.
That said, I get it that I hear about reality tv "stars" or "opportunists" or "annoying fuckers famous for nothing". You're gonna get some of that in the crossfire.
But why the hell do I need to hear about the Kardashians or the Jersey Shore nimrods on the news or in any polite society for that matter.
One episode of TMZ featured a camera man following Kim from behind to the gym. She stops, turns around and tells the man that he is disrespectful.
Let's not forget that the Kardashians became famous because of a sex tape...that Kim's mother "leaked". One that feature her ass apparently, as do most pictures of her.
What a trifling gold digging beast of a mother. Granted, they've made a crapload of money. Maybe it was worth it...to them. I do not need to see their smug faces everywhere though.
And why or why or why does Snooki need to be in the Three Stooges Movie. What is a Snooki? Why do I know what she looks like? I mean, Abercrombie paid the Shore people not to wear their clothes. That's how disgusting these people are.
Why am I so jealous that they are famous for nothing?
Because I know several talented people who have amazing gifts. People that should be on screen, that should have records, that should be making a living off of their ART. Instead, we have to watch a bunch of fucking clowns make millions for being like idiots.
Why I got myself in a tizzy this late, I do not know. I need some chamomile or some shit.
By the way here's a way to lend support, if you so choose, to voice on the ridiculousness of some of these folks on Facebook. Boycott the K
Speaking of, feel free to friend me on Facebook. I do not have any friends yet, it's a new page.
About Me
- Artemis J
- I am brutally honest, super opinionated, and swear like a sailor. You have been warned. You'll either love me or hate me. I'm cool either way. All posts and personal photographs herein are © Copyright 2011 ArtemisJ. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Does This Bed Come Equipt With Earplugs?
I do not know what my deal is with not writing. I think it's because I feel like I do not have enough exciting things going on. Except I did not write much about that anyway. I've had a bunch of running thoughts and didn't get around to writing them. I have to do it in the moment or I just kinds lose the hutzpah, you know. Also, I tend to just write about what's annoying me at the moment.
And at the moment it's my honey's snoring. Lord. Have. Mercy.
Now, I have been known to snore a bit. Mostly because the boobs smash my wind pipe. Sorry, but it's true. Regardless, I know I snore sometimes.
Why is it that the person that snores like a beastmaster falls asleep the minute their head hits the pillow? Seriously. It's a pattern.
Growing up, I found my dad's snoring comforting. He worked rotating shifts and he worked hard, bless him. Hearing him snore meant he was home. And as he grew older, hearing him snore also meant I knew he was still alive. Though I once almost gave him a heart attack sneaking up on him one drunken late night.
What? I crawled in during the wee hours and he was lying on the floor (which he does often doze off in front of the telly) but was not snoring. So my drunk ass goes downstairs and gets in his face to hear if he's breathing. Of course he wakes up in horror to find his big curly haired, goth makeup wearing, inebriated daughter inches from his mug.
I'm surprised he didn't take a swing at me. I probably would have.
p.s. I was of age. I did live with the parents for a year or so after college. Good folks.
That snoring went on in another room though. As a girl, I found comfort in it. Hell, even now I do when I visit them. But right now, oooo lawd.
Actually he's (my man) not all that bad. I've been finding myself not getting to sleep until like 4am or something and then sleeping in a bit when he goes to work. I am considering getting a graveyard shift job, though that would be we wouldn't be able to go to bed together and I don't even mean that in a pervy way. It's just nice to actually sleep together. I know he feels bad about it, poor lamb. It's not all his fault anyway.
I have trouble falling asleep as it is. I always have. I am a nocturnal person. I kick into gear in the evening. I have always been this way, even as a child. My parents were constantly yelling at me to go to sleep. I'd be all up in my room reading, watching TV (on this precious 12 inch black & white), or listening to music - which always gave me away because I'd sing. One of them would come in and be like "SLEEP!" I just simply could not.
Sometimes I get up and do stuff - like tonight. Other times I just try to relax in bed and I play games on my iPhone, which my sweetheart of a man got me. I should try to make better use of my time. I will hopefully be going back to school soon and will not have the luxury of late night shenanigans.
And really, if snoring is the biggest conflict to deal with, I don't have too much to complain about.
Happy Holidays!
Check this guy out. Come on...just come on. And the poor cat. Look at those poor, soulless eyes that say "I cannot tolerate another minute of this guy's weird."
I wonder if he snores. Though I kinda doubt it would keep anyone else up.
And at the moment it's my honey's snoring. Lord. Have. Mercy.
Now, I have been known to snore a bit. Mostly because the boobs smash my wind pipe. Sorry, but it's true. Regardless, I know I snore sometimes.
Why is it that the person that snores like a beastmaster falls asleep the minute their head hits the pillow? Seriously. It's a pattern.
Growing up, I found my dad's snoring comforting. He worked rotating shifts and he worked hard, bless him. Hearing him snore meant he was home. And as he grew older, hearing him snore also meant I knew he was still alive. Though I once almost gave him a heart attack sneaking up on him one drunken late night.
What? I crawled in during the wee hours and he was lying on the floor (which he does often doze off in front of the telly) but was not snoring. So my drunk ass goes downstairs and gets in his face to hear if he's breathing. Of course he wakes up in horror to find his big curly haired, goth makeup wearing, inebriated daughter inches from his mug.
I'm surprised he didn't take a swing at me. I probably would have.
p.s. I was of age. I did live with the parents for a year or so after college. Good folks.
That snoring went on in another room though. As a girl, I found comfort in it. Hell, even now I do when I visit them. But right now, oooo lawd.
Actually he's (my man) not all that bad. I've been finding myself not getting to sleep until like 4am or something and then sleeping in a bit when he goes to work. I am considering getting a graveyard shift job, though that would be we wouldn't be able to go to bed together and I don't even mean that in a pervy way. It's just nice to actually sleep together. I know he feels bad about it, poor lamb. It's not all his fault anyway.
I have trouble falling asleep as it is. I always have. I am a nocturnal person. I kick into gear in the evening. I have always been this way, even as a child. My parents were constantly yelling at me to go to sleep. I'd be all up in my room reading, watching TV (on this precious 12 inch black & white), or listening to music - which always gave me away because I'd sing. One of them would come in and be like "SLEEP!" I just simply could not.
Sometimes I get up and do stuff - like tonight. Other times I just try to relax in bed and I play games on my iPhone, which my sweetheart of a man got me. I should try to make better use of my time. I will hopefully be going back to school soon and will not have the luxury of late night shenanigans.
And really, if snoring is the biggest conflict to deal with, I don't have too much to complain about.
Happy Holidays!
Check this guy out. Come on...just come on. And the poor cat. Look at those poor, soulless eyes that say "I cannot tolerate another minute of this guy's weird."
I wonder if he snores. Though I kinda doubt it would keep anyone else up.
Friday, December 2, 2011
It's Official
I full on stood at the meat counter with a calculator trying to figure out which was the better deal for ground turkey. Two different sized packages and I had coupons.
I have become a soccer mom. A childless, soccerless soccer mom.
Lord have mercy. I am fucking boring as shit.
Though I am content here, I mean - it's not a horrible life - I have a lovely man that adores me and I also love to pieces. At the end of the day, that is really all that matters.
But this city lacks hutzpah, you know? There's just nothing special. It's rather dull actually. No culture. And it's not just me that says so. My best friend ran into a girlfriend who's best friend also moved out here last year.
Did you follow that? Anyway, the couple that moved here is having issues finding friends and culture and generally something not suburban to do. My bestie is going to get me their info. I need some flipping cool people to hang out with.
I am a bona fide city girl. That's just the way it is. And why is the spellcheck for "bona fide" "debonaire"? Though I'd like to think of myself as such as well. So humble.
Having a car has helped, though driving here is koo-koo. People are nuts! everyone drives as though they are entitled. As in "I am entitled not to be aware that anyone else exists". Seriously, people do not even look! They drive through red lights! I do not mean going through a yellow. I mean full on standing red light. Just because they feel like it. And they just randomly pull out of parking spaces. No one looks at anything. They just go.
I'm gonna have to lay down the law, I guess. Because my crazy ass will yell at someone.
I think I get it now why housewives in the 50's freaked out and drank. I am ready for a cocktail myself.
The car is fabulous by the way. We got a Honda CRV in this Urban (ha ha) Titanium color. Of course I woke up the next day, looked at it and cried for two hours that it looked like a mini van and was brown. I was all "How did I get here? there is nothing cool about that car? When did I become a yuppy?! Why did you let me get that one? I should have waited for the black one."
I was hysterical. It was ridiculous. I blame a raging case of PMS and Mercury being in retrograde. Fucking Mercury.
I love it now though. It's actually super pretty.
I have become a soccer mom. A childless, soccerless soccer mom.
Lord have mercy. I am fucking boring as shit.
Though I am content here, I mean - it's not a horrible life - I have a lovely man that adores me and I also love to pieces. At the end of the day, that is really all that matters.
But this city lacks hutzpah, you know? There's just nothing special. It's rather dull actually. No culture. And it's not just me that says so. My best friend ran into a girlfriend who's best friend also moved out here last year.
Did you follow that? Anyway, the couple that moved here is having issues finding friends and culture and generally something not suburban to do. My bestie is going to get me their info. I need some flipping cool people to hang out with.
I am a bona fide city girl. That's just the way it is. And why is the spellcheck for "bona fide" "debonaire"? Though I'd like to think of myself as such as well. So humble.
Having a car has helped, though driving here is koo-koo. People are nuts! everyone drives as though they are entitled. As in "I am entitled not to be aware that anyone else exists". Seriously, people do not even look! They drive through red lights! I do not mean going through a yellow. I mean full on standing red light. Just because they feel like it. And they just randomly pull out of parking spaces. No one looks at anything. They just go.
I'm gonna have to lay down the law, I guess. Because my crazy ass will yell at someone.
I think I get it now why housewives in the 50's freaked out and drank. I am ready for a cocktail myself.
The car is fabulous by the way. We got a Honda CRV in this Urban (ha ha) Titanium color. Of course I woke up the next day, looked at it and cried for two hours that it looked like a mini van and was brown. I was all "How did I get here? there is nothing cool about that car? When did I become a yuppy?! Why did you let me get that one? I should have waited for the black one."
I was hysterical. It was ridiculous. I blame a raging case of PMS and Mercury being in retrograde. Fucking Mercury.
I love it now though. It's actually super pretty.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Eveything I Heard Is True
We've been looking at purchasing a new car. It's unfamiliar territory for both of us, but we've been trekking along.
We went to a large auto mall, which is cool because you can hit a bunch of dealerships. And by bunch - I mean two. Because they spend so much time yacking that you cannot get a straight answer. What the hell?
The first guy asks the oh so famous "what can I do to get you in this car?" for a car we really did not want. I just kinda wanted to get my feet wet. The fiance is like "give us a better price" and throws out a number. He comes back with some nonsense and ASKS AGAIN. And we say - "how about this price?". The idiot sends over his boss, who talks to me like I am a child and being unreasonable or something. Finally I say "look, it's not really the exact car I am looking for, it has a alot of miles on it - was it driven a few times to NY or something? Anyway, I just want a number that I can put in the hat and think about so the car is under consideration." He throws out a number, finally. It's still too high and we leave.
Show be the number, dude.
Next we go to Honda, which is out of the price range; but I did not like the view from the rear view window of the Kia Sportage, so I want to check the CRV, just in case.
Oooo. Me likey. Me no likey the price tag plus like $2,000 of dealer ad-ons. Seriously.
We go in and he asks for a number. J throws out what could have been considered ridiculous, but it's right near the max we want to spend.
I am like - "go through the ad-ons" which he was conveniently avoiding, "there were four things on there, go through them."
Roof rack
Yeah, didn't ask for it. Not paying.
But it's a value.
That is did not ask for. Not paying.
Protection for the seats and the liner for cargo. It covers that. (and is almost $900)
You want me to pay a warantee on some Scotchguarding on the seats. That's ridiculous. I am not paying for that.
Theft protection.
Uh-huh. I have insurance. I am not paying for that crap.
I cannot even remember what the other thing was because I shot it dow so hard, I was not listening. Ridiculous.
"So you adding a bunch of things that I did not ask for and then bumped up the price. I'm not paying for it."
We can remove it.
Okay, remove the seat protection...that came from the factory. Idiot.
I was beautifully loud about it too. Mess with me. I'm no dummy. I also tell him that he needs not to let me think too much. If I do, I am going to change my mind.
We beat him down quite a bit and threw out a number higher than what we wanted to pay really. But we said we'd take it if he gave it to us. He leaves for the hundredth time.
He comes back.
"Do you have it in another color. I don't think I like the blue." He looks exasperated. J's all "she warned you not to make her think" It was pretty funny.
They would just not give the price we wanted - even when it was higher that what we originally wanted to pay. We go to leave and the owner comes out. He shiesters me into going back in. Gives me like $250 more off and some good financing. Some sob story on how is making $100 on the deal or some crap.
I do not budge. "Let me think about it" They try to pressure and I am all "It's alot of money, more than I want to spend. I just need to clear my head and crunch numbers."
I do like the car an awful lot. J goes back in to tell him to hold it and we'll come back tomorrow.
Of course I think about it and change my mind. I actually have the courtesy to email him to let him know we are passing. They call me twice the next day, as they do J. We do not respond.
J's step-dad gets us a deal at a dealership near his house that he does business with. It's pretty good. J gets another deal from a dealership via email that says they will beat any other deal. With a dealer incentive that the one deal has - this new one will be seriously close to the price we thought was ridiculously low.
Good thing that salesman decided to try to wear me out into submission. Which really does not work for me. I tend to not submit, but walk away. I do not handle pressure that way. I have to process things for a long time.
Last night we checked out the Hyudai Tuscon. I liked it as well. Though the CRV has a more luxury feel, I would totally get the Tuscon if the price is right. Their basic model has more electronic bells & whistles. Plus, it's like $100 for the cargo tray (which I will get for free) and it already has a luggage rack.
If we were not going the email route, I was prepared to walk into a dealership with a damn picnic basket. I'd just chill and have some lunch while we go back and forth. Let them take their time. It would have been funny, but I don't think we are doing that now. Emailing directly seems to be working. Would that not be hilarious though?
It is crazy how they try to wear you down. It takes a special kind of morality level to do that shit. I was in sales myself, but could never do what they do. First, I do not have the patience. Second, I just don't like screwing good people over.
It makes me want to go dick these guys over though. I am pretty convincing. I could so fake wanting to buy a car. I may do the picnic thing after all. Performance art!
We went to a large auto mall, which is cool because you can hit a bunch of dealerships. And by bunch - I mean two. Because they spend so much time yacking that you cannot get a straight answer. What the hell?
The first guy asks the oh so famous "what can I do to get you in this car?" for a car we really did not want. I just kinda wanted to get my feet wet. The fiance is like "give us a better price" and throws out a number. He comes back with some nonsense and ASKS AGAIN. And we say - "how about this price?". The idiot sends over his boss, who talks to me like I am a child and being unreasonable or something. Finally I say "look, it's not really the exact car I am looking for, it has a alot of miles on it - was it driven a few times to NY or something? Anyway, I just want a number that I can put in the hat and think about so the car is under consideration." He throws out a number, finally. It's still too high and we leave.
Show be the number, dude.
Next we go to Honda, which is out of the price range; but I did not like the view from the rear view window of the Kia Sportage, so I want to check the CRV, just in case.
Oooo. Me likey. Me no likey the price tag plus like $2,000 of dealer ad-ons. Seriously.
We go in and he asks for a number. J throws out what could have been considered ridiculous, but it's right near the max we want to spend.
I am like - "go through the ad-ons" which he was conveniently avoiding, "there were four things on there, go through them."
Roof rack
Yeah, didn't ask for it. Not paying.
But it's a value.
That is did not ask for. Not paying.
Protection for the seats and the liner for cargo. It covers that. (and is almost $900)
You want me to pay a warantee on some Scotchguarding on the seats. That's ridiculous. I am not paying for that.
Theft protection.
Uh-huh. I have insurance. I am not paying for that crap.
I cannot even remember what the other thing was because I shot it dow so hard, I was not listening. Ridiculous.
"So you adding a bunch of things that I did not ask for and then bumped up the price. I'm not paying for it."
We can remove it.
Okay, remove the seat protection...that came from the factory. Idiot.
I was beautifully loud about it too. Mess with me. I'm no dummy. I also tell him that he needs not to let me think too much. If I do, I am going to change my mind.
We beat him down quite a bit and threw out a number higher than what we wanted to pay really. But we said we'd take it if he gave it to us. He leaves for the hundredth time.
He comes back.
"Do you have it in another color. I don't think I like the blue." He looks exasperated. J's all "she warned you not to make her think" It was pretty funny.
They would just not give the price we wanted - even when it was higher that what we originally wanted to pay. We go to leave and the owner comes out. He shiesters me into going back in. Gives me like $250 more off and some good financing. Some sob story on how is making $100 on the deal or some crap.
I do not budge. "Let me think about it" They try to pressure and I am all "It's alot of money, more than I want to spend. I just need to clear my head and crunch numbers."
I do like the car an awful lot. J goes back in to tell him to hold it and we'll come back tomorrow.
Of course I think about it and change my mind. I actually have the courtesy to email him to let him know we are passing. They call me twice the next day, as they do J. We do not respond.
J's step-dad gets us a deal at a dealership near his house that he does business with. It's pretty good. J gets another deal from a dealership via email that says they will beat any other deal. With a dealer incentive that the one deal has - this new one will be seriously close to the price we thought was ridiculously low.
Good thing that salesman decided to try to wear me out into submission. Which really does not work for me. I tend to not submit, but walk away. I do not handle pressure that way. I have to process things for a long time.
Last night we checked out the Hyudai Tuscon. I liked it as well. Though the CRV has a more luxury feel, I would totally get the Tuscon if the price is right. Their basic model has more electronic bells & whistles. Plus, it's like $100 for the cargo tray (which I will get for free) and it already has a luggage rack.
If we were not going the email route, I was prepared to walk into a dealership with a damn picnic basket. I'd just chill and have some lunch while we go back and forth. Let them take their time. It would have been funny, but I don't think we are doing that now. Emailing directly seems to be working. Would that not be hilarious though?
It is crazy how they try to wear you down. It takes a special kind of morality level to do that shit. I was in sales myself, but could never do what they do. First, I do not have the patience. Second, I just don't like screwing good people over.
It makes me want to go dick these guys over though. I am pretty convincing. I could so fake wanting to buy a car. I may do the picnic thing after all. Performance art!
Friday, October 21, 2011
Close Encounters
I feel like an alien. Seriously.
I will say that people are pretty damn nice out here. Last month a random girl took me to the airport. You heard me. My shuttle was over an hour late. She heard me freaking out - and by freaking out, I mean raise my voice, because this town could not handle me at a 10 - and offered me a ride. What? And another girl helped me carry my groceries up last week.
Apparently, it pays to live above a Starbucks.
But I feel very isolated. I am having trouble adjusting. I am like this big, fat, loud, harsh beast that does not belong. This area will never feel like home to me. I am just here. I would give almost anything to be back in Chicago. This place is kinda sucking my will to live.
So, we go to San Fran for a couple days and I decide to get my hair did whilst the fiance is at work. I go to this salon by the hotel. The most adorable little hipster gay colored my hair and convinced me to do something fun with it. Now I am a little worried that it may look bad when I wash it out - but now it's straight and looks awesome.
He was from Washington DC. He was feeling me on how different it was out here and how people were way more sensitive and, though pleasant, more sketchy. As in not saying what they mean. It was fun to bitch with someone. He told me that the only people he really has become friends with happen to be from the east coast. It doesn't surprise me. I have more on San Fran, but I need to vent about some other business today.
I've noticed that I've said things and people are uncomfortable, when to me it's clear I am just being brash or silly like "why you gotta be like that?" and I get and "I'm sorry". For real? You think I'm upset when I say that? I need for everyone out here to watch Seinfeld. See Elaine? Now love her...get her...okay see - that's pretty much me.
Sorry gang, I am in a foul mood today. My ulcer blew up last night and I still feel a bit nauseous (nauseated? I never get that right). Then I was awoken by unworldly sounds coming out of my cat that freaked me the hell out.
The cats had a major set back a couple of weeks ago. The girl started to get a little aggressive with Roche' (my little guy), you know trying to show dominance for some reason. Roche' was all "Whatever dude, leave me alone, I am just trying to chill out. I'm just wanting to be left alone" But she's kinda a brat and can't leave shit be. She pretty much is my bane. I cannot have anything nice because she will wreck it. Even just writing about her made my computer do a bunch of weird crap. It's now highlighting misspelled words and not correcting them and leaving them highlighted when I do it manually. That just happened. See? BANE.
Anyway, she's causing trouble with him and the big cat gets involved and there is a freaky cat skirmish that almost gives me a mini stroke. It's complete chaos. After which, Roche' has not been the same. He doesn't want to be near either of them. He growls (a sound I have never heard before). He hisses (I had heard him do this twice before - at the ceiling fan). The girl won't leave him be. The big cat usually leaves him alone. Or at least walks three feet away and plops down and is all "I am just chilling here. I want no trouble."
But this morning he decided not to back off and right next to me, in the middle of sleep (finally after being in pain all night), I hear a freaking Puma and Lion going at it. I think the noise came mostly from Roche'. Regardless it freaked me the fuck out. I yelled and the big cat ran out of the room and Roche' hid behind the bed.
I am now stuck in my bedroom because I refuse to lock him up in here as though he were being punished. Plus, I need to make sure he gets out if he has to take care of business or eat. Though he has come out and is hanging with me on the bed.
Their fighting is causing me so much stress. The truth is I come from the school of pets should add goodness to you life. I always thought that people who had trouble pets were complete and utter dumb-asses. I never had a pet for that reason. Why the hell would I take care of something that got on my nerves and did not add value to my life? Not only that, but to cause grief? I would not take that shit from a person, why the fuck would I take it from a mini beast? I deserve to be shot for tolerating it. I am embarrassed by it. It is the stupidest thing in the world. Truth be told, I am miserable about it. I am tired of yelling at them. Not just for fighting, but for doing things or going to places they should not be. I have started calling the girl "earmuffs" as in she's make a good pair.
That is why I love Roche' so much. He's obedient and sweet - the worst things he does is eat ribbons and bites a little when I play rough with him - but I let him do that. He does not jump on any surfaces. Couch, bed, and armchairs only. He is perfect for me. He causes me stress when he is unwell and that's it. I took him from a place where he was bullied and now I have but him in a bad situation. I kinda want to cry right now. The poor thing.
Maybe we should have stayed put.
I will say that people are pretty damn nice out here. Last month a random girl took me to the airport. You heard me. My shuttle was over an hour late. She heard me freaking out - and by freaking out, I mean raise my voice, because this town could not handle me at a 10 - and offered me a ride. What? And another girl helped me carry my groceries up last week.
Apparently, it pays to live above a Starbucks.
But I feel very isolated. I am having trouble adjusting. I am like this big, fat, loud, harsh beast that does not belong. This area will never feel like home to me. I am just here. I would give almost anything to be back in Chicago. This place is kinda sucking my will to live.
So, we go to San Fran for a couple days and I decide to get my hair did whilst the fiance is at work. I go to this salon by the hotel. The most adorable little hipster gay colored my hair and convinced me to do something fun with it. Now I am a little worried that it may look bad when I wash it out - but now it's straight and looks awesome.
He was from Washington DC. He was feeling me on how different it was out here and how people were way more sensitive and, though pleasant, more sketchy. As in not saying what they mean. It was fun to bitch with someone. He told me that the only people he really has become friends with happen to be from the east coast. It doesn't surprise me. I have more on San Fran, but I need to vent about some other business today.
I've noticed that I've said things and people are uncomfortable, when to me it's clear I am just being brash or silly like "why you gotta be like that?" and I get and "I'm sorry". For real? You think I'm upset when I say that? I need for everyone out here to watch Seinfeld. See Elaine? Now love her...get her...okay see - that's pretty much me.
Sorry gang, I am in a foul mood today. My ulcer blew up last night and I still feel a bit nauseous (nauseated? I never get that right). Then I was awoken by unworldly sounds coming out of my cat that freaked me the hell out.
The cats had a major set back a couple of weeks ago. The girl started to get a little aggressive with Roche' (my little guy), you know trying to show dominance for some reason. Roche' was all "Whatever dude, leave me alone, I am just trying to chill out. I'm just wanting to be left alone" But she's kinda a brat and can't leave shit be. She pretty much is my bane. I cannot have anything nice because she will wreck it. Even just writing about her made my computer do a bunch of weird crap. It's now highlighting misspelled words and not correcting them and leaving them highlighted when I do it manually. That just happened. See? BANE.
Anyway, she's causing trouble with him and the big cat gets involved and there is a freaky cat skirmish that almost gives me a mini stroke. It's complete chaos. After which, Roche' has not been the same. He doesn't want to be near either of them. He growls (a sound I have never heard before). He hisses (I had heard him do this twice before - at the ceiling fan). The girl won't leave him be. The big cat usually leaves him alone. Or at least walks three feet away and plops down and is all "I am just chilling here. I want no trouble."
But this morning he decided not to back off and right next to me, in the middle of sleep (finally after being in pain all night), I hear a freaking Puma and Lion going at it. I think the noise came mostly from Roche'. Regardless it freaked me the fuck out. I yelled and the big cat ran out of the room and Roche' hid behind the bed.
I am now stuck in my bedroom because I refuse to lock him up in here as though he were being punished. Plus, I need to make sure he gets out if he has to take care of business or eat. Though he has come out and is hanging with me on the bed.
Their fighting is causing me so much stress. The truth is I come from the school of pets should add goodness to you life. I always thought that people who had trouble pets were complete and utter dumb-asses. I never had a pet for that reason. Why the hell would I take care of something that got on my nerves and did not add value to my life? Not only that, but to cause grief? I would not take that shit from a person, why the fuck would I take it from a mini beast? I deserve to be shot for tolerating it. I am embarrassed by it. It is the stupidest thing in the world. Truth be told, I am miserable about it. I am tired of yelling at them. Not just for fighting, but for doing things or going to places they should not be. I have started calling the girl "earmuffs" as in she's make a good pair.
That is why I love Roche' so much. He's obedient and sweet - the worst things he does is eat ribbons and bites a little when I play rough with him - but I let him do that. He does not jump on any surfaces. Couch, bed, and armchairs only. He is perfect for me. He causes me stress when he is unwell and that's it. I took him from a place where he was bullied and now I have but him in a bad situation. I kinda want to cry right now. The poor thing.
Maybe we should have stayed put.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Monster
First off, let's discuss. This is proof that makeup goes a long way and that we are all pretty much some mascara away from being a monster. Charlize Theron is one of the most beautiful women in the universe and she looks like ass. Plus the bitch she is playing here was a serial killer. Ugliness makes people do some ugly things.
That said, I am desperate need of a makeover. One, my ass...grown. And I do not mean I am a grown ass woman. I mean I have super badunk-a-dunk. It's not cool. And it's especially not cool being no jive turkey so close to Thanksgiving. Yes, that was for you, Smarty.
Seriously though, I am out of control. I have not been working out and that needs to change promptly. I have approximately 11 months. Does my dress fit? Yes. Am I happy with how I look in it? Not especially. Though I am not thrilled with how I look in anything lately. That's not the only reason I need to get into shape though. I am feeling uber gross. And that, also, is not cool.
My phro is also insane. I, at least, remembered that I have thinning shears and put those to work. I could not stand it anymore. I need to make an appointment this week to have some layers put in. That is to say, put in correctly. I have been know to take shears to my head in the middle of the night and wake up with a bob or some shit. I am a crack length away from doing it, so I need to go see a pro. I am debating on color though. Did you all know that I was actually a redhead? For many years. So much so that people though it was my natural color. Though, for the record, I do actually have some red hair...along with blonde, black, and brown. I am a fucking deer mouse, though less pestilent.
So, I have a debate with the parents again about inviting kids to the wedding. I am apparently a horrible monster that hates children and needs to be destroyed.
Sorry, I just cannot handle kids running around when I am in heels. It completely stresses me out. Plus, I figured out that it would cost and additional $2,500 to have all those kids there. You heard me. Twenty-five-freaking-hundred-dollars. Thirty-five extra meals, additional seating/chair covers, additional centerpieces. It all adds up. Should I have to sacrifice how my wedding looks, to save on budget, so that people can bring their children that do not give a shit about me?
And what happened to it being OUR wedding, anyway?
My brother went Godfather on me the other day.
He calls me on Friday night.
"Do you have a photographer?"
"Yeah, but I have not signed a contract yet"
"How much is he charging you?"
"$2,000"
"Do not sign a thing, I have someone for you. He'll do it"
"But..."
"Don't worry about it. He's a good guy. Takes great pictures."
"But how much..."
"Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out."
"But can we get a book and the digital photos and..."
"You're gonna get whatever you want. I said - don't worry about it."
I called him today and was like "Can I talk to this guy?" Turns out he works with my brother, which I am guessing means for my brother. Like he's his boss. He apparently wants to get into the industry and my bro is vouching for him. Guess he won't mess things up because it will be super awkward for him.
For the record, my brother is not a mafia type, which is why it's impossible to say no to him when he pulls crap like that. He has more integrity than anyone I know. Plus, he knows he will not hear the end of it if this dude messes it up. If I can save a grand...I mean, that gives us more to spend on food or whatever. And don't you dare say "or kids" because I will throttle you.
Did I mention that my sister in law is making the cake? How cool is that? We did go to a cake tasting and like the combination that we chose. I could tell she wanted to do it, but was nervous and I was like - Just make it. I am not looking for a free cake, we'll pay you. I just want you to make it. I beat her into submission and am so glad. I want something totally plain anyway. I mean plain in design. I am of course buying cake jewelry. It's a real thing. Trust me. I need bling.
I was in Chicago a couple of weeks ago for my BFF's wedding - which was awesome. I went shopping and bought all the gifts for my bridesmaids. Part of which I am incorporating into the ensemble.
I decided to have my sister, my fiance's sister, and two of my best girls be attendees. Then I wanted my nieces. How to get away with having that many? Make those little heifers flower girls. I do not give a crap. they are wearing the same dresses and just going down the isle in pairs and dropping petals. Did I mention that they will be ages 15 to 23. Whatever. They are my nieces and I think it is precious. Again, I did not want some kid that does not even know us. Plus, I hate when everyone is all cooing at the spectacle.
I was at another wedding last month and the flower girls and ring bearer were just running around, causing a scene. It was so distracting. People were all "awww...how cute." I was like "someone better beat those brats down."
Maybe I am a monster.
I was all nudging my man "See? See? This is why I am having the girls (the nieces) do it. I would be throwing a fit." And honestly, I would.
The weird thing is - I am exceptional with children. I am like the kid whisperer or some shit. But that takes concentration and I am not having it on that day. At least not for that.
Here's some pretty for you:
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Hells Bells
You know, it's a little scary planning a wedding right now. And by right now, I mean with the economy in a shit spiral.
My parents do not give me an exact budget. So I have to guess on everything. Granted, I do not want to spend $50,000 (which I am sure is NOT the budget), I am a thifty gal. You are going to pass out when I tell you how much I paid for my dress. The exact dress I wanted.
I blew up at my mom the other night. I think there was a full moon. Or it could have been that I am planning a cross country move and a wedding at the same time. Could have influenced it. I tend to try to do it all at once and then get overwhelmed.
We were talking about the girls dresses and their shoes and she was like "we'll see what the girls want" Umm...no. I have worn hideous dresses and worn awful shoes. It's my wedding. I get to pick out what they wear. Sorry. I am top skate dog. And actually, I am not sorry.
I blew up at her though. Of course, I felt bad afterwards and called her back. I was fine until she tells me that the projected guest list is 300. What?! How? Why? Well, all our friends and their families. KIDS?! You're inviting kids to my wedding?
So I calmly go on a tirade, explaining how when I see a child running around at a wedding I want to box their ears. I apparently hide my rage well, my mom had no idea. She then tries to guilt me and was like "what about Kathy & Kikki? They have babies" Yeah, and those babies were not at Jenny's wedding last year...and they are super close friends with her - much closer than with me. And they are doctors - they can get a sitter. I totally lost it. I told her that if some little fucker tripped me on that dance floor I would cause a scene. Or if they started running around on the dance floor. I know I would go into asshole mode. I get annoyed at a restaurant. Can you imagine me at my own wedding? I would seriously throw a shit fit. And if I heard a crying baby while I am up on that alter...do not think for a minute that I would not embarrass myself with a tantrum.
But I kept a cool tone. I have a talent for that sometimes. Plus, I had already freaked out earlier; I think I did not have the energy. She called me the next day and said "let's just write Mr. & Mrs." on the cards. Yes, please and thank you.
Back to the clothes. Yes, I have already purchased my dress. It is on it's way to my mom's house. will need some alterations, but it's perfection for me. And I picked out the the girls dresses as well. I did take one of the girls with me. My future sister in law has already ordered hers, bless the little kitten. House of Brides has incredibly awful customer service and are notorious for late, late delivery; so I told the girls to order asap. I know my one girlfriend will slack. I am prepared to have her not stand up because she doesn't have a dress. She kills me.
In three weeks, I should have almost everything planned. We have cake tasting, meetings with photographers and florists, and checking out tuxes planned. I already have my invitations picked out and have researched party favors.
Yes, I am going koo koo clocks. But this means that I can concentrate on setting up our home and finding a job when I get out to California.
My parents do not give me an exact budget. So I have to guess on everything. Granted, I do not want to spend $50,000 (which I am sure is NOT the budget), I am a thifty gal. You are going to pass out when I tell you how much I paid for my dress. The exact dress I wanted.
I blew up at my mom the other night. I think there was a full moon. Or it could have been that I am planning a cross country move and a wedding at the same time. Could have influenced it. I tend to try to do it all at once and then get overwhelmed.
We were talking about the girls dresses and their shoes and she was like "we'll see what the girls want" Umm...no. I have worn hideous dresses and worn awful shoes. It's my wedding. I get to pick out what they wear. Sorry. I am top skate dog. And actually, I am not sorry.
I blew up at her though. Of course, I felt bad afterwards and called her back. I was fine until she tells me that the projected guest list is 300. What?! How? Why? Well, all our friends and their families. KIDS?! You're inviting kids to my wedding?
So I calmly go on a tirade, explaining how when I see a child running around at a wedding I want to box their ears. I apparently hide my rage well, my mom had no idea. She then tries to guilt me and was like "what about Kathy & Kikki? They have babies" Yeah, and those babies were not at Jenny's wedding last year...and they are super close friends with her - much closer than with me. And they are doctors - they can get a sitter. I totally lost it. I told her that if some little fucker tripped me on that dance floor I would cause a scene. Or if they started running around on the dance floor. I know I would go into asshole mode. I get annoyed at a restaurant. Can you imagine me at my own wedding? I would seriously throw a shit fit. And if I heard a crying baby while I am up on that alter...do not think for a minute that I would not embarrass myself with a tantrum.
But I kept a cool tone. I have a talent for that sometimes. Plus, I had already freaked out earlier; I think I did not have the energy. She called me the next day and said "let's just write Mr. & Mrs." on the cards. Yes, please and thank you.
Back to the clothes. Yes, I have already purchased my dress. It is on it's way to my mom's house. will need some alterations, but it's perfection for me. And I picked out the the girls dresses as well. I did take one of the girls with me. My future sister in law has already ordered hers, bless the little kitten. House of Brides has incredibly awful customer service and are notorious for late, late delivery; so I told the girls to order asap. I know my one girlfriend will slack. I am prepared to have her not stand up because she doesn't have a dress. She kills me.
In three weeks, I should have almost everything planned. We have cake tasting, meetings with photographers and florists, and checking out tuxes planned. I already have my invitations picked out and have researched party favors.
Yes, I am going koo koo clocks. But this means that I can concentrate on setting up our home and finding a job when I get out to California.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Some Like It Hot
In the last two days I have proven my tenacity, toughness, and perhaps stupidity. Well not stupid - just very stubborn.
I have always said that people that can handle living in Chicago can handle any environment.
We have some crazy ass weather here. Today for example, 92 degrees - feels like 102 degrees.
Oh you didn't know that in Chicago, we get TWO temperatures? Oh, we do, as in the thermostat will read 80 and it will be so damn humid out that it actually feels like 88. Or in winter, we have a wind chill factor. So like it may be 18, but will feel like -1. Yeah, negative. And negative 1 is not as brutal as it gets. I am not complaining. I am just telling it like it is.
We are in a heat wave right now and, son of a bitch - my central air went out on Sunday night. I was talking to the fiance and was like "I am hot as hell and the air has been running non-stop. Shit! It's 80 degrees in here!"
Today it hit 88...in my apartment. Right now it's a breezy 87. I am not shitting you. It was so hot that a spider was hanging out in my toilet. I have seen spiders maybe twice in the last 7 years. That bitch was hot. I flushed him so I could take a dump.
I have stayed in this whole time. Why? Because I could not stand the thought of leaving my cat. I was so worried that he may get heat stroke or something and I would not be here to take care of him. He actually seems fine, but I would not have been able to relax. I would have been stressing out about him.
Anyway, my point is, I am surviving. It's amazing that I could feel it drop down to 87 after it had been running for a bit, I was like - huh, it's cooler in here. I have been cranky as hell, but you know, toughing it out.
Just another sign that it is time to move.
When Mac first mentioned how hot it gets in summer out there I was like - eeek. But it's dry. You can walk out without sweating immediately. It makes a huge difference. So, dry 100 degrees in summer and a balmy 25 degrees in winter? Yeah...cake walk.
Have you all seen "Some Like It Hot? One of the best movies ever with one of - if not the best last line. I am not kidding. I try to post a scene, but blogger is not having it today. All I can say is do yourself a favor and rent that mother.
I have always said that people that can handle living in Chicago can handle any environment.
We have some crazy ass weather here. Today for example, 92 degrees - feels like 102 degrees.
Oh you didn't know that in Chicago, we get TWO temperatures? Oh, we do, as in the thermostat will read 80 and it will be so damn humid out that it actually feels like 88. Or in winter, we have a wind chill factor. So like it may be 18, but will feel like -1. Yeah, negative. And negative 1 is not as brutal as it gets. I am not complaining. I am just telling it like it is.
We are in a heat wave right now and, son of a bitch - my central air went out on Sunday night. I was talking to the fiance and was like "I am hot as hell and the air has been running non-stop. Shit! It's 80 degrees in here!"
Today it hit 88...in my apartment. Right now it's a breezy 87. I am not shitting you. It was so hot that a spider was hanging out in my toilet. I have seen spiders maybe twice in the last 7 years. That bitch was hot. I flushed him so I could take a dump.
I have stayed in this whole time. Why? Because I could not stand the thought of leaving my cat. I was so worried that he may get heat stroke or something and I would not be here to take care of him. He actually seems fine, but I would not have been able to relax. I would have been stressing out about him.
Anyway, my point is, I am surviving. It's amazing that I could feel it drop down to 87 after it had been running for a bit, I was like - huh, it's cooler in here. I have been cranky as hell, but you know, toughing it out.
Just another sign that it is time to move.
When Mac first mentioned how hot it gets in summer out there I was like - eeek. But it's dry. You can walk out without sweating immediately. It makes a huge difference. So, dry 100 degrees in summer and a balmy 25 degrees in winter? Yeah...cake walk.
Have you all seen "Some Like It Hot? One of the best movies ever with one of - if not the best last line. I am not kidding. I try to post a scene, but blogger is not having it today. All I can say is do yourself a favor and rent that mother.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Talk About Pulling Pork
Are you kidding me with this? What is this trying to achieve? Do you think it's food porn? OMG IS THIS FOOD PORN?!!
Lord and baby Jesus - this is a wreck and I am loving it. Though I am not sure that I can ever get this image out of my head. It may be difficult to have a BLT without giggling.
I am sure it's tongue in cheek...at least I hope it is. I just saw a challenge on MasterChef where some dude cooked a dish with pork cheeks. And I don't mean booty. I had no idea that they even have a cut like that. It apparently was awesome, according to the judges.
I have actually gotten into pulled pork sandwiches lately. Not in a sexual way, pervs. I had never had them and discovered that they are super delish. Not sure why I avoided them for so long.
I am brilliant at avoiding things though. Like avoiding doing the dishes. Or maybe packing for my move.
Though we did set a wedding date. I am getting shit done people. I do not want to be all stressed out with a bunch of nonsense. I am always stressed out over dumb stuff as it is. I've booked the church and hall. Done & done. I have a dress picked out, just need to see it live to be sure. My sister is my main beyotch and have not decided on bride's maidens yet. I am thinking I may just have my two closest gals. But I kinda want my nieces as well. Though I do not want 20 minutes of procession going on. Snooze.
Yeah, I think just the girlfriends.
It's annoying. I keep going "oh yeah - I need invitations" "Ugh. A DJ." You know, crap like that. Can't run off to Vegas though. Orthodoxy does not recognize a marriage unless they conduct it. I know...some of you may know me as a heathen. But I do have a family, you know. It's important to my parents. See? I am a good girl!
Go make yourselves some bacon wrapped dates or something. Mmmm...bacon. Note that I am writing that with that picture up there out of my view.
Lord and baby Jesus - this is a wreck and I am loving it. Though I am not sure that I can ever get this image out of my head. It may be difficult to have a BLT without giggling.
I am sure it's tongue in cheek...at least I hope it is. I just saw a challenge on MasterChef where some dude cooked a dish with pork cheeks. And I don't mean booty. I had no idea that they even have a cut like that. It apparently was awesome, according to the judges.
I have actually gotten into pulled pork sandwiches lately. Not in a sexual way, pervs. I had never had them and discovered that they are super delish. Not sure why I avoided them for so long.
I am brilliant at avoiding things though. Like avoiding doing the dishes. Or maybe packing for my move.
Though we did set a wedding date. I am getting shit done people. I do not want to be all stressed out with a bunch of nonsense. I am always stressed out over dumb stuff as it is. I've booked the church and hall. Done & done. I have a dress picked out, just need to see it live to be sure. My sister is my main beyotch and have not decided on bride's maidens yet. I am thinking I may just have my two closest gals. But I kinda want my nieces as well. Though I do not want 20 minutes of procession going on. Snooze.
Yeah, I think just the girlfriends.
It's annoying. I keep going "oh yeah - I need invitations" "Ugh. A DJ." You know, crap like that. Can't run off to Vegas though. Orthodoxy does not recognize a marriage unless they conduct it. I know...some of you may know me as a heathen. But I do have a family, you know. It's important to my parents. See? I am a good girl!
Go make yourselves some bacon wrapped dates or something. Mmmm...bacon. Note that I am writing that with that picture up there out of my view.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Best Summer Ever
Sometimes you just have to make lemonade. Feel me?
Thanks to all the capitalist pigs lining their pockets and killing out economy (opinion much?); I, along with many, have been "employment challenged". Three of my best girlfriends were in the same boat. Jane was the first and did not have a job for 18 months. Then Sally, unemployed for 2 years, who just got a job on the west coast near her sister. Me - almost two years. And Pam, who got the bad news in October.
Not sure why I described all that. I guess to make a point of how awful the market is. Here you have 4 bright, educated, dependable, hard working women that got the shaft.
I just have sour grapes because I know people that do my job or similar that are incompetent asses - yet still have a job.
Speaking of...oh my baby Jesus. I ran into these two people yesterday from a hotel that I filled in at for a couple months before the lay off. It was also owned by my management company. They lost a manager and an executive, (the manager had gone to another hotel and the executive had gotten canned) so I was sent there to help out.
The place was crazy. The boss has surveillance camera screens all over one wall of his office. he knew when you came in, when you went to the bathroom....everything. And apparently had feeds at home. The team that I was helping out with was insane. Two of the batshit craziest women I have ever dealt with. One was a total bitch with attitude and the other had crazy eyes and did nto wash her hands after going to the bathroom.
I was walking by the manager's new hotel and he was outside with the crazy eyes women. I stopped to say hi and was all "Aren't you glad you are out of there? Must be nice to not be spied on 24/7" To the manager guy I was all "Sorry, I know you worked there too. That place was crazy" She asks me how long I was there and I was like "about 6 weeks" She was like "I thought it was longer". some other stuff that they looked confused about. yadda yadda.
When I walk away I realize. The woman was not the crazy girl...she was the general Manager from the hotel that was next to the hotel I actually worked at. I had talked to her on smoke breaks and stuff. No wonder they looked at me like I was insane. She and the other woman were both blondes, under 5 ft and had similar body types.
I felt like an idiot and wanted to go back. Then I thought...what a funnier story for them. Let them be confused. Maybe they will think the did not know me at all. Maybe they will just think I am koo-koo clocks. I also thought it would be funny to start doing that on purpose. Walk up to people as though I know them, start a convo, and walk away leaving them scratching their heads. Performance art!
Anyway, I am at the beginning of my rainbow tour. Saying good bye to people that I will likely never see again. My inner circle, I am not worried about. The people that are not priorities, but I love to bits; I need to see them to say "smell ya" to because I will probably not get to see them on visits. I met up with a once potential client turned friend yesterday. It was nice.
I am also having a final performance / going away party on September 1. Hopefully I will get to catch everyone. If not - well...smell ya.
Back to best summer ever. Because I have plans and know where I am going, I am able to actually enjoy the summer a bit. Of course becoming engaged is top of the list of reasons. But I am now able to breathe, execute my plans, and also enjoy my days here. I need a direction to feel secure.
Pam and I have a routine now. Morning: job search. Afternoon: pool. Evening: trash TV.
Come on. What's not to love? So I am having to eat through some savings. I have to make the best of it, right? The situation happened for a reason, might as well just do what I can to enjoy. I am sure I will get a great job once I move out there. Again - there's a reason I did not find anything out here; and it certainly was not for lack of trying. I am simply overqualified for what is available to me or what I can do outside of my field. I do not blame them for questioning my intent. They know I will jump ship the first chance I get. And in my industry...they have expressed concerns that I have been out of the market for too long, plus am worth more than they want to pay. Just how the cookie has been crumbling. Changing location will also help me change careers. Or maybe I will find a position in my field available out there. Anything can happen.
But for now, I am spending time with my awesome girl friend and I actually have tan lines. Tan lines! I have sullied my porcelain skin. I have to say though: I look alot healthier. I sometimes look too pale, especially with the low iron and crap; I look sick sometimes. And do not think that I do not SPF 40 myself from head to two either, because I sure do.
And of course I am excited about getting married to the man. He's awesome and we are going to have a great life together. Rainbows and unicorns people!
Shut up.
p.s. I solemnly swear that I will not turn into bridezilla.
Thanks to all the capitalist pigs lining their pockets and killing out economy (opinion much?); I, along with many, have been "employment challenged". Three of my best girlfriends were in the same boat. Jane was the first and did not have a job for 18 months. Then Sally, unemployed for 2 years, who just got a job on the west coast near her sister. Me - almost two years. And Pam, who got the bad news in October.
Not sure why I described all that. I guess to make a point of how awful the market is. Here you have 4 bright, educated, dependable, hard working women that got the shaft.
I just have sour grapes because I know people that do my job or similar that are incompetent asses - yet still have a job.
Speaking of...oh my baby Jesus. I ran into these two people yesterday from a hotel that I filled in at for a couple months before the lay off. It was also owned by my management company. They lost a manager and an executive, (the manager had gone to another hotel and the executive had gotten canned) so I was sent there to help out.
The place was crazy. The boss has surveillance camera screens all over one wall of his office. he knew when you came in, when you went to the bathroom....everything. And apparently had feeds at home. The team that I was helping out with was insane. Two of the batshit craziest women I have ever dealt with. One was a total bitch with attitude and the other had crazy eyes and did nto wash her hands after going to the bathroom.
I was walking by the manager's new hotel and he was outside with the crazy eyes women. I stopped to say hi and was all "Aren't you glad you are out of there? Must be nice to not be spied on 24/7" To the manager guy I was all "Sorry, I know you worked there too. That place was crazy" She asks me how long I was there and I was like "about 6 weeks" She was like "I thought it was longer". some other stuff that they looked confused about. yadda yadda.
When I walk away I realize. The woman was not the crazy girl...she was the general Manager from the hotel that was next to the hotel I actually worked at. I had talked to her on smoke breaks and stuff. No wonder they looked at me like I was insane. She and the other woman were both blondes, under 5 ft and had similar body types.
I felt like an idiot and wanted to go back. Then I thought...what a funnier story for them. Let them be confused. Maybe they will think the did not know me at all. Maybe they will just think I am koo-koo clocks. I also thought it would be funny to start doing that on purpose. Walk up to people as though I know them, start a convo, and walk away leaving them scratching their heads. Performance art!
Anyway, I am at the beginning of my rainbow tour. Saying good bye to people that I will likely never see again. My inner circle, I am not worried about. The people that are not priorities, but I love to bits; I need to see them to say "smell ya" to because I will probably not get to see them on visits. I met up with a once potential client turned friend yesterday. It was nice.
I am also having a final performance / going away party on September 1. Hopefully I will get to catch everyone. If not - well...smell ya.
Back to best summer ever. Because I have plans and know where I am going, I am able to actually enjoy the summer a bit. Of course becoming engaged is top of the list of reasons. But I am now able to breathe, execute my plans, and also enjoy my days here. I need a direction to feel secure.
Pam and I have a routine now. Morning: job search. Afternoon: pool. Evening: trash TV.
Come on. What's not to love? So I am having to eat through some savings. I have to make the best of it, right? The situation happened for a reason, might as well just do what I can to enjoy. I am sure I will get a great job once I move out there. Again - there's a reason I did not find anything out here; and it certainly was not for lack of trying. I am simply overqualified for what is available to me or what I can do outside of my field. I do not blame them for questioning my intent. They know I will jump ship the first chance I get. And in my industry...they have expressed concerns that I have been out of the market for too long, plus am worth more than they want to pay. Just how the cookie has been crumbling. Changing location will also help me change careers. Or maybe I will find a position in my field available out there. Anything can happen.
But for now, I am spending time with my awesome girl friend and I actually have tan lines. Tan lines! I have sullied my porcelain skin. I have to say though: I look alot healthier. I sometimes look too pale, especially with the low iron and crap; I look sick sometimes. And do not think that I do not SPF 40 myself from head to two either, because I sure do.
And of course I am excited about getting married to the man. He's awesome and we are going to have a great life together. Rainbows and unicorns people!
Shut up.
p.s. I solemnly swear that I will not turn into bridezilla.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Romance Schmomance (or Has Anyone Seen My Fiance?)
I have lost my fiance! Not really. I just love that scene from Seinfeld. Elaine Benis is a brilliant character. I cannot even deal sometimes. For some reason, I could not embed the video. Booo.
So this is how we rolled. Friday afternoon, after some errands and talking the puss in boots to the vet, we went to my parents for lunch. Traffic was brutal and the dumb car I had rented (a chevy Malibu, by the way) had crazy blind spots. I absolutely hated driving it. we were seriously like 2 hours later than expected.
He immediately talks to my daddy. Yes, he full on went old school. If you met my dad, you'd know why. Dad has aire about him that yells "respect"; but not because he demands it, rather because he deserves it. Plus I am a total daddy's girl. Come on.
We go from there to an undisclosed location in the burbs. Turns out to be a place I had never heard of. It's like a little village of bungalows. Totally private even though it was actually at the end of a neighborhood. Cute. We check in and then go to our room.
Are you kidding me? First thing I see: balloons, a tower of balloons. Rose petals and candles everywhere. Whirlpool tub the size of a Queen bed...steam & shower room. Champagne (he had even chosen the sweet stuff, knowing that's my preference). Come on! I want to live here.
He is so awesome. He had done so much research to find a place and made sure that everything was set up the way he wanted. Yes, I am quite happy with my choice.
We have reservations for dinner at 8pm. We are both exhausted and decide to just chill out for a bit. We did not want to get all into the tub and stuff because we knew we'd be down for the count if we did. man, those jacuzzi tubs are relaxing. I could sleep in them. Anyway, we are getting ready to just lounge and he's all having to show me something first.
I turn around. He's down on one knee. Bless his baboon heart. He asks and I see a blur of sparkle. I say yes, of course. Hug, kiss, blah and then I am like wait...I saw some bling.
I look at it and it's divine. So perfect for me. It looks vintage and modern at the same time. Serious perfection.
And yes, I cried like a baby. It was ridiculous.
What a difference a year makes. We were not even aware of each others existence and now...we are getting married! How about that.
So this is how we rolled. Friday afternoon, after some errands and talking the puss in boots to the vet, we went to my parents for lunch. Traffic was brutal and the dumb car I had rented (a chevy Malibu, by the way) had crazy blind spots. I absolutely hated driving it. we were seriously like 2 hours later than expected.
He immediately talks to my daddy. Yes, he full on went old school. If you met my dad, you'd know why. Dad has aire about him that yells "respect"; but not because he demands it, rather because he deserves it. Plus I am a total daddy's girl. Come on.
We go from there to an undisclosed location in the burbs. Turns out to be a place I had never heard of. It's like a little village of bungalows. Totally private even though it was actually at the end of a neighborhood. Cute. We check in and then go to our room.
Are you kidding me? First thing I see: balloons, a tower of balloons. Rose petals and candles everywhere. Whirlpool tub the size of a Queen bed...steam & shower room. Champagne (he had even chosen the sweet stuff, knowing that's my preference). Come on! I want to live here.
He is so awesome. He had done so much research to find a place and made sure that everything was set up the way he wanted. Yes, I am quite happy with my choice.
We have reservations for dinner at 8pm. We are both exhausted and decide to just chill out for a bit. We did not want to get all into the tub and stuff because we knew we'd be down for the count if we did. man, those jacuzzi tubs are relaxing. I could sleep in them. Anyway, we are getting ready to just lounge and he's all having to show me something first.
I turn around. He's down on one knee. Bless his baboon heart. He asks and I see a blur of sparkle. I say yes, of course. Hug, kiss, blah and then I am like wait...I saw some bling.
I look at it and it's divine. So perfect for me. It looks vintage and modern at the same time. Serious perfection.
And yes, I cried like a baby. It was ridiculous.
What a difference a year makes. We were not even aware of each others existence and now...we are getting married! How about that.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
One Ring To Rule Them All
I have been a busy bee. I am planning a move cross country.
Yes, I am California bound.
I have had my freak-outs about it. I am sad to leave my dear old dirty town. I love Chicago so much. But let's be honest; it is not giving me what I need. Will I return? It's very likely.
It's time for a new era. I actually said a few years ago that if Daley was no longer mayor that I'd scram. I guess I put it out into the universe.
But change is needed and change is good. It's time.
Another change: in about twenty four hours my left ring finger will have a permanent adornment.
I haven't seen it yet and am so excited. And I am so excited to start this new part of my life with him. It is truly amazing that we found each other.
I try not to talk about it too much. I am not the most romantic person sometimes. I think because it makes me uncomfortable sometimes when people are too mushy and I do not want to be the cause of that.
See you after I am affianced. Meanwhile enjoy this:
Yes, I am California bound.
I have had my freak-outs about it. I am sad to leave my dear old dirty town. I love Chicago so much. But let's be honest; it is not giving me what I need. Will I return? It's very likely.
It's time for a new era. I actually said a few years ago that if Daley was no longer mayor that I'd scram. I guess I put it out into the universe.
But change is needed and change is good. It's time.
Another change: in about twenty four hours my left ring finger will have a permanent adornment.
I haven't seen it yet and am so excited. And I am so excited to start this new part of my life with him. It is truly amazing that we found each other.
I try not to talk about it too much. I am not the most romantic person sometimes. I think because it makes me uncomfortable sometimes when people are too mushy and I do not want to be the cause of that.
See you after I am affianced. Meanwhile enjoy this:
Friday, July 1, 2011
Is This Really Necessary?
The world knows that I am super judgmental. I am, I admit to it. I am hyper critical about myself. This leads to a crap load of staunch opinions.
A girlfriend's brother is having a baby. Well, his wife is. They decided they were going to take "Pregnancy Pictures"
What the fuck is this nonsense? It's like that weirdo pic I posted in this post. What is this new craze? Why when you never took photos of your belly before do you think it's time to glamour shot it up?
I don't get it. Really, I do not.
I am not saying that pregnant women should not have pictures of themselves preggo. I just think it's totally weird to take specific pregnancy pictures.
Do we blame Demi Moore? I mean, come on.
Am I am asshole? I honestly find these types of pics awkward. I mean, I don't see random ladies taking pictures of themselves in bikinis and posting them. I mean professional pictures. Other than models, actors, or sex trade workers - who does that?
Yet, you have a baby in there and you suddenly want to get half naked on film.
Though I admit that I judged their pictures less harshly because I knew them, I still told my girlfriend (I can use that without people assuming that I'm a lezbot, right?) that I found it ridiculous.
She agreed. She had been having such major mixed feelings about it. She loves them (the couple) but thinks those are weird to take.
Why not also take pictures when you are svelt? Is your body only worthy of being immortalized when you are having a baby? Is it suddenly then you feel worthy? I mean, if you feel comfortable doing that when you are pregs - why not when you are not?
They only reason I do not have photos like that is because I am not keen of how my body looks in a bikini. I accept my body. Just saying - the general public does not need to see my fat ass in a bikini or corset or something.
I can stand by it if it's art, but these women are getting sucked into a trend that, quite frankly, looks pretty tacky. They try to class it up, but not enough. It's pretty much just tackorific.
AND another thing. Why is the woman always half naks and the man fully clothed, It's like they are not even in the same picture.
Case in point:
So she's there in all her lingeried glory while he is wearing a hat. It's dumb. Any child would be embarrassed of this shit when they are old enough to look at it. Who the hell wants to see their mom dressed like this? And the forced tenderness? Lame. "Hold your/her belly, close your eyes, and think about unicorns. Perfect. That's the shot."
To all the pregnant bitches out there - huge bless. Hope all your babies pop out healthy.
A girlfriend's brother is having a baby. Well, his wife is. They decided they were going to take "Pregnancy Pictures"
What the fuck is this nonsense? It's like that weirdo pic I posted in this post. What is this new craze? Why when you never took photos of your belly before do you think it's time to glamour shot it up?
I don't get it. Really, I do not.
I am not saying that pregnant women should not have pictures of themselves preggo. I just think it's totally weird to take specific pregnancy pictures.
Do we blame Demi Moore? I mean, come on.
Am I am asshole? I honestly find these types of pics awkward. I mean, I don't see random ladies taking pictures of themselves in bikinis and posting them. I mean professional pictures. Other than models, actors, or sex trade workers - who does that?
Yet, you have a baby in there and you suddenly want to get half naked on film.
Though I admit that I judged their pictures less harshly because I knew them, I still told my girlfriend (I can use that without people assuming that I'm a lezbot, right?) that I found it ridiculous.
She agreed. She had been having such major mixed feelings about it. She loves them (the couple) but thinks those are weird to take.
Why not also take pictures when you are svelt? Is your body only worthy of being immortalized when you are having a baby? Is it suddenly then you feel worthy? I mean, if you feel comfortable doing that when you are pregs - why not when you are not?
They only reason I do not have photos like that is because I am not keen of how my body looks in a bikini. I accept my body. Just saying - the general public does not need to see my fat ass in a bikini or corset or something.
I can stand by it if it's art, but these women are getting sucked into a trend that, quite frankly, looks pretty tacky. They try to class it up, but not enough. It's pretty much just tackorific.
AND another thing. Why is the woman always half naks and the man fully clothed, It's like they are not even in the same picture.
Case in point:
So she's there in all her lingeried glory while he is wearing a hat. It's dumb. Any child would be embarrassed of this shit when they are old enough to look at it. Who the hell wants to see their mom dressed like this? And the forced tenderness? Lame. "Hold your/her belly, close your eyes, and think about unicorns. Perfect. That's the shot."
To all the pregnant bitches out there - huge bless. Hope all your babies pop out healthy.
Insomnia Can Kiss My Grits
I have a long time battle with insomnia. Seriously, it's all hundred years war in my world. Now I know how Joan of Arc felt.
I was up all night on Wednesday. I figured that I would get a little sleep during the day, since I was planning on hanging out at my friend's pool yesterday. Nope. The weather was chillsville. We hung out, but could not go in the water. There was some Artic bullshit coming in across the Lake that was causing a scene.
Whoa is me. My life is so hard...I couldn't go swimming.
Anyway, we went out for some din din in the evening and decided to take a little cruise up to Evanston. We are super hungers at this point and are not thinking clearly. We find a spot to park and decide to take a stroll to find a place to eat, since the restaurant we thought looked cute actually wasn't. After several blocks, we see a cupcake place. Twenty feet away is a little Mediterranean joint. She's all "Let's just got here - plus, it's close to the cupcake shop". Good ol' T. I can always count on her to want to be naughty with the food.
Umm..by "naughty" I mean wanting to eat something decadent - not being pervy.
Anyway, in comes a huge ass storm. Fireworks, I tell you, that culminates in torrential rain when we are wanting to leave the restaurant.
We take a deep breath, I take my sandals off (ever try running or walking in the rain with heeled sandals? Not a pretty site.), and dive in. Yipes! It's like taking a cold power shower. After a minute or two, I am like "I cannot possible become more drenched."
We make it to the car and seriously need to put through one of these:
I remember my mom having one of these. Well not like this one; but a washing machine with a wringer. It was in the first house I lived in, though we also had a normal one. I know she had previously used it though. What a freaking pain in the butt. We are so lucky now. Can you imagine how cumbersome laundry was to do? We can at least dump it in the machine and walk away from it now.
We did not have one of these, so simply had to sit our soaked asses in the car and drive home. Don't think for a minute that we did not stop at Baskin Robins drive through (thru?) and get some ice cream though. Ladies still want their dessert, even when they look like drowning kittens.
I absolutely crash out after the adventure. I zonk out on the couch only to wait up, pert as a morning lark, at 3 am. Come on, dude. Give me a break.
Ah. Nell...the world seriously could use some Nell right now. I know I could. Is Gimme a Break on Hulu? I need to check that out.
I was up all night on Wednesday. I figured that I would get a little sleep during the day, since I was planning on hanging out at my friend's pool yesterday. Nope. The weather was chillsville. We hung out, but could not go in the water. There was some Artic bullshit coming in across the Lake that was causing a scene.
Whoa is me. My life is so hard...I couldn't go swimming.
Anyway, we went out for some din din in the evening and decided to take a little cruise up to Evanston. We are super hungers at this point and are not thinking clearly. We find a spot to park and decide to take a stroll to find a place to eat, since the restaurant we thought looked cute actually wasn't. After several blocks, we see a cupcake place. Twenty feet away is a little Mediterranean joint. She's all "Let's just got here - plus, it's close to the cupcake shop". Good ol' T. I can always count on her to want to be naughty with the food.
Umm..by "naughty" I mean wanting to eat something decadent - not being pervy.
Anyway, in comes a huge ass storm. Fireworks, I tell you, that culminates in torrential rain when we are wanting to leave the restaurant.
We take a deep breath, I take my sandals off (ever try running or walking in the rain with heeled sandals? Not a pretty site.), and dive in. Yipes! It's like taking a cold power shower. After a minute or two, I am like "I cannot possible become more drenched."
We make it to the car and seriously need to put through one of these:
I remember my mom having one of these. Well not like this one; but a washing machine with a wringer. It was in the first house I lived in, though we also had a normal one. I know she had previously used it though. What a freaking pain in the butt. We are so lucky now. Can you imagine how cumbersome laundry was to do? We can at least dump it in the machine and walk away from it now.
We did not have one of these, so simply had to sit our soaked asses in the car and drive home. Don't think for a minute that we did not stop at Baskin Robins drive through (thru?) and get some ice cream though. Ladies still want their dessert, even when they look like drowning kittens.
I absolutely crash out after the adventure. I zonk out on the couch only to wait up, pert as a morning lark, at 3 am. Come on, dude. Give me a break.
Ah. Nell...the world seriously could use some Nell right now. I know I could. Is Gimme a Break on Hulu? I need to check that out.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
My Opinion Is Not Humble
Honestly, the expression "in my humble opinion" is a load of crap. First of all, it's condescending. A) I know it's you opinion. B) When you premise a comment with that, you are basically saying "I know better than you, but want to manipulate the sitch to seem like I am not saying it outright". No one has said it to me lately. It just peeves me. Though, I do laugh on the inside when people get condescending. I get it dude - you are not so smart that I do not get it.
Actually, it entertains me a snare. I have to be honest.
I have been on an entitlement rampage the last few days. Not me being entitled...people are working my nerves.
My recent travel back to Chicago was a hot mess. I take a shuttle from my boyfriend's to the airport. Sometimes they pick up more peeps. This trip was one of them. This trip I was hoping that they would not get lost. For some reason, they got totally lost last time. I think they had the wrong address. It was stressful though.
I digress.
So we pick up a lady in a scooter. First, we pull up front to a courtyard type building and a young man runs up from the very back apartment and asks for the van to be pulled up through the alley. Fair enough. The driver had called 5 minuted prior to pick up. We should go back there and load up and go, right? Wrong.
They had like 8 suitcases still in the house that the driver had to go in and get. The two kids with the woman each brought out one or two bags. Seriously, the process took at least 15 minutes. I was fuming.
If you know you are about to picked up...for the airport...with other people also needing to get to the airport...wouldn't the thing to do be...I don't know...BE READY? Why were not the bags out on the yard. The secured, gated yard? When you know that they are coming in minutes? Annoyed.
This coming from the girl that is late to everything. Whatever. Not when it comes to someone else having to get to the airport.
The kicker. She is also going to Chicago, but her flight is 2 hours after mine. She wanted to be ready since she is so slow. Thanks for respecting my time, sister.
I actually have a few more instances of interesting random stupid people crap from the journey, but my brain hurts right now. I will have to continue tomorrow.
I hope you are all glorious and free. I have not written in a long time and it's kinda bullshit. I call shenanigans on me right now.
Smooches!
This just made me smile hard. Check out this sweet ride. Is that Abe Vigoda?!
Actually, it entertains me a snare. I have to be honest.
I have been on an entitlement rampage the last few days. Not me being entitled...people are working my nerves.
My recent travel back to Chicago was a hot mess. I take a shuttle from my boyfriend's to the airport. Sometimes they pick up more peeps. This trip was one of them. This trip I was hoping that they would not get lost. For some reason, they got totally lost last time. I think they had the wrong address. It was stressful though.
I digress.
So we pick up a lady in a scooter. First, we pull up front to a courtyard type building and a young man runs up from the very back apartment and asks for the van to be pulled up through the alley. Fair enough. The driver had called 5 minuted prior to pick up. We should go back there and load up and go, right? Wrong.
They had like 8 suitcases still in the house that the driver had to go in and get. The two kids with the woman each brought out one or two bags. Seriously, the process took at least 15 minutes. I was fuming.
If you know you are about to picked up...for the airport...with other people also needing to get to the airport...wouldn't the thing to do be...I don't know...BE READY? Why were not the bags out on the yard. The secured, gated yard? When you know that they are coming in minutes? Annoyed.
This coming from the girl that is late to everything. Whatever. Not when it comes to someone else having to get to the airport.
The kicker. She is also going to Chicago, but her flight is 2 hours after mine. She wanted to be ready since she is so slow. Thanks for respecting my time, sister.
I actually have a few more instances of interesting random stupid people crap from the journey, but my brain hurts right now. I will have to continue tomorrow.
I hope you are all glorious and free. I have not written in a long time and it's kinda bullshit. I call shenanigans on me right now.
Smooches!
This just made me smile hard. Check out this sweet ride. Is that Abe Vigoda?!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
I Have a Case of the Awkwards
I have seen this picture before and it never ceases to amaze me. What were they thinking?
I love that I most recently found it on a Jewish parenting blog. Even more awkward! What is going on?
So, I am at my sweetheart's place and he had to go to work. His cleaning lady is here. Frankly, I may have preferred that she come next week. Or maybe I could have just left for a while. I am feeling a snare awkies. To be honest, I feel like she might be ripping him off.
From what I have noticed in the past, she basically just does the floors and wipes down surfaces in the kitchen. The stairs look like they have never been swept, nor the bedroom furniture dusted. I know that one time, I arrived when she was cleaning and we left. When we returned there was dust on the shelves that the glasses and dishes are stored on. Considering that there is no other furniture besides the TV stand and couch, I think that it is not too much to expect the "bookcase" that holds the glassware to be dusted.
Window sills - dusty. Floorboards - dusty. I seriously do not get it. Granted, the place is always pretty clean - but we also pick up after ourselves. It's not like anything is really dirty anyway.
I mean, I can come here every two weeks and sweeps the floors for crying out loud.
Oh man, have I got some PMS for you.
I know that my place gets really dusty very quickly. Like the same day that I clean. I also live in a 100 year old building, in a major city, on a really busy street.
I am trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe things just get dusty by my next visit. Somehow I doubt it.
Do not think for a minute that I am not doing a white glove inspection when she leaves. Yeah, I'm an asshole like that.
I will not have someone take advantage of my boyfriend. Not when I know that he pays her what a hotel housekeeper would make in 4 hours. And those guestrooms are pretty clean. I say this from my experience in the industry and can only speak as to the cleanliness of hotels I've worked at.
In 4 hours this place would be spotless. He is not cluttery at all. It's easy to clean. In fact the only things that are out are mine.
I had one of the housekeepers come help me once. I gave her $60 and she protested that it was too much, when she had worked her ass off for like 3 hours and my place had been a pit. It was spotless. She moved the furniture, dusted everything. I did do my bedroom myself and dusted the living room, but she did mostly everything. And honestly - it was a fucking sty. I had been working non-stop for weeks and was a basket case. I organized crap while she cleaned. Seriously, she washed everything, like even the bar glasses that I keep on the counter. That stuff gets dirty if you do not periodically clean them.
Hence my concern for my honey's place. I mean, that kind of thing piles up, and soon all your surfaces can be icky.
I am guessing that she will do a better job today though.
Though I cannot figure out why the laundry is running. I was tossing my dirties directly into the machine all week. I was going to add more to it to do a load. There are like two shirts and 5 pair of nundies in there - why the hell would you run that? Not necessary.
Ugh, I am cranky. And poor Mac - I am always complaining about the dust. Honestly, his place is cleaner that mine usually is. I just feel like she is being paid more that what she is doing. Maybe that is just my expectations though. And really, I am glad that the bathroom fixtures and such get cleaned. It's just those little things that end up piling up and then become a huge chore...that yours truly does not want to have to end up eventually doing.
I also don't know how people look normal when they clean. I am a grubby, nasty looking beast of a woman when I do chores. No question about it. I am wearing crap and feeling like it too.
Hmmm...maybe I should dress cuter when I clean. I think then I would not want to get down to the nitty gritty though. My problem is that I do not really maintain well. I let things go a bit and then have to work really hard to clean it all. At least I used to be like that. I have gotten much better over the last year or so. But I still look like crap when I am doing it.
Hey, I can't always look glorious.
I love that I most recently found it on a Jewish parenting blog. Even more awkward! What is going on?
So, I am at my sweetheart's place and he had to go to work. His cleaning lady is here. Frankly, I may have preferred that she come next week. Or maybe I could have just left for a while. I am feeling a snare awkies. To be honest, I feel like she might be ripping him off.
From what I have noticed in the past, she basically just does the floors and wipes down surfaces in the kitchen. The stairs look like they have never been swept, nor the bedroom furniture dusted. I know that one time, I arrived when she was cleaning and we left. When we returned there was dust on the shelves that the glasses and dishes are stored on. Considering that there is no other furniture besides the TV stand and couch, I think that it is not too much to expect the "bookcase" that holds the glassware to be dusted.
Window sills - dusty. Floorboards - dusty. I seriously do not get it. Granted, the place is always pretty clean - but we also pick up after ourselves. It's not like anything is really dirty anyway.
I mean, I can come here every two weeks and sweeps the floors for crying out loud.
Oh man, have I got some PMS for you.
I know that my place gets really dusty very quickly. Like the same day that I clean. I also live in a 100 year old building, in a major city, on a really busy street.
I am trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe things just get dusty by my next visit. Somehow I doubt it.
Do not think for a minute that I am not doing a white glove inspection when she leaves. Yeah, I'm an asshole like that.
I will not have someone take advantage of my boyfriend. Not when I know that he pays her what a hotel housekeeper would make in 4 hours. And those guestrooms are pretty clean. I say this from my experience in the industry and can only speak as to the cleanliness of hotels I've worked at.
In 4 hours this place would be spotless. He is not cluttery at all. It's easy to clean. In fact the only things that are out are mine.
I had one of the housekeepers come help me once. I gave her $60 and she protested that it was too much, when she had worked her ass off for like 3 hours and my place had been a pit. It was spotless. She moved the furniture, dusted everything. I did do my bedroom myself and dusted the living room, but she did mostly everything. And honestly - it was a fucking sty. I had been working non-stop for weeks and was a basket case. I organized crap while she cleaned. Seriously, she washed everything, like even the bar glasses that I keep on the counter. That stuff gets dirty if you do not periodically clean them.
Hence my concern for my honey's place. I mean, that kind of thing piles up, and soon all your surfaces can be icky.
I am guessing that she will do a better job today though.
Though I cannot figure out why the laundry is running. I was tossing my dirties directly into the machine all week. I was going to add more to it to do a load. There are like two shirts and 5 pair of nundies in there - why the hell would you run that? Not necessary.
Ugh, I am cranky. And poor Mac - I am always complaining about the dust. Honestly, his place is cleaner that mine usually is. I just feel like she is being paid more that what she is doing. Maybe that is just my expectations though. And really, I am glad that the bathroom fixtures and such get cleaned. It's just those little things that end up piling up and then become a huge chore...that yours truly does not want to have to end up eventually doing.
I also don't know how people look normal when they clean. I am a grubby, nasty looking beast of a woman when I do chores. No question about it. I am wearing crap and feeling like it too.
I call shenanigans on this. This here is the myth:
This right here is the reality of the situation:
And she doesn't even look that bad. Whatever. Marketing nonsense.
Hmmm...maybe I should dress cuter when I clean. I think then I would not want to get down to the nitty gritty though. My problem is that I do not really maintain well. I let things go a bit and then have to work really hard to clean it all. At least I used to be like that. I have gotten much better over the last year or so. But I still look like crap when I am doing it.
Hey, I can't always look glorious.
Arty and The Angry Grinch
My band mate is performing a run at Mary's Attic. He is performing Hedwig with guest artists. They do the opening act and then perform songs from the show with him. Our band finally decided to perform with him in August. I cannot wait! It's a good excuse to learn some new material.
Here's one of my faves from the movie / broadway musical. Hedwig just gets dumped by her husband after she underwent a sex change in order to leave East Germany and go with him to America.
It is actually amazing what a little make up and hair can do to a girl. Do not even think that I am not writing this while waiting for my hair color to set in. A girl needs to keep the hair looking right. Also, I swear to baby Jesus that I do not feel right without make up. I am one of those gals. I need a painted face to look right to myself. Even when I look au naturel, it's because I am a master of nude colors. I may look like I have nothing on, but I do indeed. Though I prefer a it of glam; it's just not always appropriate.
Today I cleaned my place up, as my sweety is coming to visit. I seriously was being negligent. What is with me lately? I think I may be a snare depressed. I have lost a little bit of my sparkle. I am sure I'll get it back. I feel like it's because I have plans and they are on hold for a bit. I am not the most patient person sometimes.
I went to the laundromat since the facilities here are abysmal and actually priced too high. Screw the landlord. I cannot believe how much they want to charge. And there are only two machines. And I have to go up and down five flights and go outside. Whatever. I usually just wait until it piles up and then got to the laundromat. It actually takes less time. In like 2.5 hours or so I am comepletely done, folding and all.
So I am folding what has already dried and this chaos walks in. She yells at the Asian dude sitting by the door. "You could be a gentleman and get the door, you know! You see me here." She apparently fumbles and he kind of giggles. I think he did not get what she said and feels uncomfortable. Then her phone rings and she is all "If it's not the phone, it's something else!"
My god woman, do you hate existence that much?!
To the unfortunate person on the horn: "Who is this? What do you want? Who is this? Who?!" Yikes. What a first class beyotch.
Then her equally cranky friend shows up. They load up their laundry. And, of course, she completely overloads her machine. It is howling. She promptly goes outside to smoke. Awesome. Thanks so much. We are all so happy that you came here. It's interesting to me how one's energy can effect the environment. She was so angry.
Then when I was leaving she was all smiles and talking to me. Huh? I just smiled and said something in agreement (I do not even remember to what) and left.
Anyway, I am showered and the hair is freshly colored. There is no shame in my game. I color my hair. And I have to do it often because it grows quickly, so I do it myself. When my hair is shorter, don't think that I do not wear phoney ponies either. I love them. Love.
I am super hungry, but something tells me we are not going to go on our ritual run to the waffle house down the street when Mac arrives. The waffle shop has super yummy breakfast deals. And by "something", I mean the torrential rain. I am grateful, however, that it did not rain on my way home with my clean clothes in tow. It was misty. I actually ran.
Can you imagine? My chubby ass, running down the street (okay sprinting), with a shopping cart full of clothes....glorious. I am a goddess. Clearly.
Total 180. You know what song always makes me cry?
"No Woman No Cry" by Bob Marley.
Every damn time. Without fail. It's the sentiment; it's his vocal tone. He just gets the waterworks going with that song. Huge bless. He is the one "hippie" I love.
By the way, little darling, don't shed no tears; everything's gonna be alright.
Here's one of my faves from the movie / broadway musical. Hedwig just gets dumped by her husband after she underwent a sex change in order to leave East Germany and go with him to America.
It is actually amazing what a little make up and hair can do to a girl. Do not even think that I am not writing this while waiting for my hair color to set in. A girl needs to keep the hair looking right. Also, I swear to baby Jesus that I do not feel right without make up. I am one of those gals. I need a painted face to look right to myself. Even when I look au naturel, it's because I am a master of nude colors. I may look like I have nothing on, but I do indeed. Though I prefer a it of glam; it's just not always appropriate.
Today I cleaned my place up, as my sweety is coming to visit. I seriously was being negligent. What is with me lately? I think I may be a snare depressed. I have lost a little bit of my sparkle. I am sure I'll get it back. I feel like it's because I have plans and they are on hold for a bit. I am not the most patient person sometimes.
I went to the laundromat since the facilities here are abysmal and actually priced too high. Screw the landlord. I cannot believe how much they want to charge. And there are only two machines. And I have to go up and down five flights and go outside. Whatever. I usually just wait until it piles up and then got to the laundromat. It actually takes less time. In like 2.5 hours or so I am comepletely done, folding and all.
So I am folding what has already dried and this chaos walks in. She yells at the Asian dude sitting by the door. "You could be a gentleman and get the door, you know! You see me here." She apparently fumbles and he kind of giggles. I think he did not get what she said and feels uncomfortable. Then her phone rings and she is all "If it's not the phone, it's something else!"
My god woman, do you hate existence that much?!
To the unfortunate person on the horn: "Who is this? What do you want? Who is this? Who?!" Yikes. What a first class beyotch.
Then her equally cranky friend shows up. They load up their laundry. And, of course, she completely overloads her machine. It is howling. She promptly goes outside to smoke. Awesome. Thanks so much. We are all so happy that you came here. It's interesting to me how one's energy can effect the environment. She was so angry.
Then when I was leaving she was all smiles and talking to me. Huh? I just smiled and said something in agreement (I do not even remember to what) and left.
Anyway, I am showered and the hair is freshly colored. There is no shame in my game. I color my hair. And I have to do it often because it grows quickly, so I do it myself. When my hair is shorter, don't think that I do not wear phoney ponies either. I love them. Love.
I am super hungry, but something tells me we are not going to go on our ritual run to the waffle house down the street when Mac arrives. The waffle shop has super yummy breakfast deals. And by "something", I mean the torrential rain. I am grateful, however, that it did not rain on my way home with my clean clothes in tow. It was misty. I actually ran.
Can you imagine? My chubby ass, running down the street (okay sprinting), with a shopping cart full of clothes....glorious. I am a goddess. Clearly.
Total 180. You know what song always makes me cry?
"No Woman No Cry" by Bob Marley.
Every damn time. Without fail. It's the sentiment; it's his vocal tone. He just gets the waterworks going with that song. Huge bless. He is the one "hippie" I love.
By the way, little darling, don't shed no tears; everything's gonna be alright.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Peach Cobbler With Pecans on Top
"Ugly babies is hard to find...but they out there"
~Adele Givens
If you do not know who Adele Givens is, do yourself and everyone you love a favor and look the woman up and watch some of her stand up. You're welcome.
Okay, here's some for you:
This morning I had to deal with a sight that simply should not be. Lord have mercy. On my way to an interview (which went well, by the by), I am sitting on the bus. After a few stops a lady & stroller hop on board. They are both facing me.
Seriously, I wanted to drop kick this kid. He not only had a snotty face, he was a freaking whiner. I am talking Doug & Wendy here. I mean this kid was just malcontent with his existence. Period. Miserable brat. It was difficult to watch. I am certain that my face was contorted in disdain. I tried not to, but the face has a will of it's own sometimes.
I know I complain a bunch, but I am not unhappy with my life. When people simply loathe to breathe, I cannot deal. And I do not mean people with genuine mental disorders that cause depression or despair, that is a serious condition. I mean otherwise healthy people just being discontent for no reason.
I am allowed to bitch about crap because I am fabulous.
So fabulous, in fact, that a begging vagabond fell completely in love with me today. He was killing me. First he called to me from across the street and then called me his wife. He comes and sits by me at the bus stop and was all "you put a spell on me. What did you get for dinner? I will go get something and you can cook it for me."
I was all "I'm taken"
"I don't mean no disrespect (which they always love to say that shit - and by they I mean men that do this crap in general). But ain't nobody gonna tell me how I can feel about you." He says something about dinner.
I tell him I cannot cook and he looks at me and is like "Quit lying. I know you can put your foot down in the kitchen." Ummmm...thanks for calling me a fat ass.
More babble. I mostly gave one word answers, but was nice enough. Apparently, I made his day because I was kind.
He closes with "You are peach cobbler with pecans on top" Awesome.
Ah, life in the Windy City.
p.s. I noticed that I lost some comments the other day before I was able to respond. Please know I did not delete them.
~Adele Givens
If you do not know who Adele Givens is, do yourself and everyone you love a favor and look the woman up and watch some of her stand up. You're welcome.
Okay, here's some for you:
This morning I had to deal with a sight that simply should not be. Lord have mercy. On my way to an interview (which went well, by the by), I am sitting on the bus. After a few stops a lady & stroller hop on board. They are both facing me.
Seriously, I wanted to drop kick this kid. He not only had a snotty face, he was a freaking whiner. I am talking Doug & Wendy here. I mean this kid was just malcontent with his existence. Period. Miserable brat. It was difficult to watch. I am certain that my face was contorted in disdain. I tried not to, but the face has a will of it's own sometimes.
I know I complain a bunch, but I am not unhappy with my life. When people simply loathe to breathe, I cannot deal. And I do not mean people with genuine mental disorders that cause depression or despair, that is a serious condition. I mean otherwise healthy people just being discontent for no reason.
I am allowed to bitch about crap because I am fabulous.
So fabulous, in fact, that a begging vagabond fell completely in love with me today. He was killing me. First he called to me from across the street and then called me his wife. He comes and sits by me at the bus stop and was all "you put a spell on me. What did you get for dinner? I will go get something and you can cook it for me."
I was all "I'm taken"
"I don't mean no disrespect (which they always love to say that shit - and by they I mean men that do this crap in general). But ain't nobody gonna tell me how I can feel about you." He says something about dinner.
I tell him I cannot cook and he looks at me and is like "Quit lying. I know you can put your foot down in the kitchen." Ummmm...thanks for calling me a fat ass.
More babble. I mostly gave one word answers, but was nice enough. Apparently, I made his day because I was kind.
He closes with "You are peach cobbler with pecans on top" Awesome.
Ah, life in the Windy City.
p.s. I noticed that I lost some comments the other day before I was able to respond. Please know I did not delete them.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
That Darn Cat
I have never seen that movie. I hear it's a Disney classic though. Of course they had to fart it up with a modern version. I guess Christina Ricci was in it, but it did not feature her being chained to a radiator so no one saw it. I admit I saw Black Snake Moan, but I had received it through Neflix and it sat at my house for like two months before I did.
Why the Hollywood machine insists on making remakes, I will never understand. If they were any sort of smart, they would simply re-release the originals at the theaters. They are already made and the royalties would be alot less than paying new non talent hacks. Just saying.
I had a horrifying experience the other day. Of course, I am going to share with you because you deserve to hear it.
I made a nice little dinner for myself on Sunday. My dining table is conveniently arranged for easy access to the kitchen and well as having a perfect view of the TV. That's actually insignificant.
Anyway, I look into the room that the cat had been in & where his box is. I notice something on the floor. I go in inspect.
My cat's ass apparently exploded! There was feliniarrhea everywhere. It was gruesome. I compose myself and start to clean up and realize...this is smeared....paws have been in this. Yipes.
I have to hunt him down and give him a bath pronto. He did not put up much of a fight. Luckily, there was no collateral damage to the rest of the house. But he did have some yuckiness on his tail. He protested a snare, but let me bathe him. I know I have mentioned before that he is a really good cat. He is currently sitting on my shoulder and still smells like baby shampoo. Precious.
So I am in a panic. Do I take him to the hospital? I call the boyfriend and leave a message. I decide to call his vet and leave a message to go see her on Monday. Meanwhile, one of my girlfriends calls and Mac calls me back. Total chaos. As I talked to my friend though, I realized that, while he did have the booty flu, what caused the mess is that it got on his tail. Poor lamb.
Don't worry - I bleached the crap out of everything. No pun intended.
Look how ridiculously cute he is.
He's better now, in case you're wondering. He still has a little bit of the booty flu, but it's not like uber liquid. More like a mini cow flop. Awesome.
Smooches!
Not Your Average Hausfrau
I am turning into a for real Hausfrau.
There are worse things for sure. It seems though that it is becoming what is going to happen over the next year or so. It doesn't mean that I won't be listening to some punk while whist dusting. That's how I roll. Though really, I will be a student as well. Time to go back to school. Actually, I am basically a Hausfrau right now, just for myself. And I never even bought myself a ring. Cheap ass.
I am pretty lucky. My boyfriend is super supportive. He is happy to help me through college; he is supportive about creating a business to sell homemade remedies and teas; he's pretty much an awesome partner really.
I think I am also really happy to have someone that I can cook with. It's so much fun. I have never had that before. And he's a gadget person, so buying random shit is not an issue, but in fact, encouraged.
I also have been looking at recipes. Not a big deal, you may say. It's not really. Except that I do not use recipes. Everything I cook, I make up along the way. I do not bake usually. If I do, it's cookies in a tube or boxed cake. Too many rules to follow!
But cooking...I am like a little mad scientist. "I wonder what will happen if..." and I just go for it. I have seldom been off. The only real times I have is when I tried cooking for my PB (psuedo boyfriend / peanut butter / best girlfriend ). PB is German as hell and loves her some bland food. I try to replicate dishes for her when we do dinners and they always taste like crap. So she thinks I am an awful cook. It's funny really.
The man and I are often on cooking sites. I am especially, really. I think it's because I know he is game. It makes cooking less of a chore.
Though I am happy with him, I have been a snare "blargh" in general so haven't been posting. Malaise! I need to remember that it's something I like to do. I apologize for being negligent. But I'll leave you with a recipe.
You can thank Smarty, as she saw me post something about it on Facebook. My sister made this at Easter since I told her I could not eat chocolate. How precious is that? I told her fruit would be fine, since she was already making fruit salad. But no - she had to make this crack. We brought some home and I am totally making it for Mac's birthday.
Enjoy!
RESERVE 24 wafers. Crush remaining wafers; mix with butter. Press onto bottom of 13x9-inch pan. Refrigerate while preparing filling.
BEAT cream cheese and sugar with mixer until well blended. Whisk in 1 cup COOL WHIP. Carefully spread over crust. Stand reserved wafers around edges.
BEAT pudding mixes and milk with whisk in medium bowl 2 min. Stir in 1 cup COOL WHIP and 3/4 cup coconut; spread over cream cheese layer. Top with remaining COOL WHIP and coconut. Refrigerate 5 hours.
WARNING! This stuff is highly addictive.
I am pretty lucky. My boyfriend is super supportive. He is happy to help me through college; he is supportive about creating a business to sell homemade remedies and teas; he's pretty much an awesome partner really.
I think I am also really happy to have someone that I can cook with. It's so much fun. I have never had that before. And he's a gadget person, so buying random shit is not an issue, but in fact, encouraged.
I also have been looking at recipes. Not a big deal, you may say. It's not really. Except that I do not use recipes. Everything I cook, I make up along the way. I do not bake usually. If I do, it's cookies in a tube or boxed cake. Too many rules to follow!
But cooking...I am like a little mad scientist. "I wonder what will happen if..." and I just go for it. I have seldom been off. The only real times I have is when I tried cooking for my PB (psuedo boyfriend / peanut butter / best girlfriend ). PB is German as hell and loves her some bland food. I try to replicate dishes for her when we do dinners and they always taste like crap. So she thinks I am an awful cook. It's funny really.
The man and I are often on cooking sites. I am especially, really. I think it's because I know he is game. It makes cooking less of a chore.
Though I am happy with him, I have been a snare "blargh" in general so haven't been posting. Malaise! I need to remember that it's something I like to do. I apologize for being negligent. But I'll leave you with a recipe.
You can thank Smarty, as she saw me post something about it on Facebook. My sister made this at Easter since I told her I could not eat chocolate. How precious is that? I told her fruit would be fine, since she was already making fruit salad. But no - she had to make this crack. We brought some home and I am totally making it for Mac's birthday.
Enjoy!
What You Need
84 NILLA Wafers, divided
6 Tbsp. butter, melted
1 pkg. (8 oz.) PHILADELPHIA Cream Cheese, softened
2 Tbsp. sugar
1 tub (8 oz.) COOL WHIP Whipped Topping, thawed, divided
2 pkg. (3.4 oz. each) JELL-O Vanilla Flavor Instant Pudding
2-1/2 cups cold milk
1-1/2 cups BAKER'S ANGEL FLAKE Coconut, toasted, divided
Make It
RESERVE 24 wafers. Crush remaining wafers; mix with butter. Press onto bottom of 13x9-inch pan. Refrigerate while preparing filling.
BEAT cream cheese and sugar with mixer until well blended. Whisk in 1 cup COOL WHIP. Carefully spread over crust. Stand reserved wafers around edges.
BEAT pudding mixes and milk with whisk in medium bowl 2 min. Stir in 1 cup COOL WHIP and 3/4 cup coconut; spread over cream cheese layer. Top with remaining COOL WHIP and coconut. Refrigerate 5 hours.
How to Toast Coconut
Toasting coconut is easy. Just spread BAKER'S ANGEL FLAKE Coconut evenly in shallow baking pan. Bake at 350°F for 7 to 10 min. or until lightly browned, stirring frequently. Or, spread in microwaveable pie plate. Microwave on HIGH 3 min. or until lightly browned, stirring every minute. Watch carefully as coconut can easily burn!
WARNING! This stuff is highly addictive.
Friday, April 15, 2011
They Try to Copy My Swagger
Look at Tina Fey's kid. That is one confident little girl. And possibly the coolest kid ever. Though Kinston is pretty awesome. Gavin Rosdale & Gwen Stephani's boy.
I am a super crabby apple cake. Lord have mercy. PMS is crushing my soul. Though really, it's not. I find that it's just that I am more sensitive, so things that always bother me are not being swept under the rug. I tend to want to me more confrontational. I mean, people get on my nerves...often.
Part of it is that I analyze everything. I am talking everything. So when someone interrupts when I am speaking, that equals "I do not care what you have to say, I am more important than you"
You can say that they are not thinking that, but really....deep down they are. And it's fucking annoying. One of my girlfriends does it to me all the time. Like I start a sentence and she completely takes over. Honestly, all I can do is trow my hands in the air in exasperation. I actually did that while I was walking down the street talking to my sweety (sorry honey). I was like "oh my god, let me finish my thought". I actually just stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
Why do people do this? And why the fuck do they do it to me? I must be too polite about it. It kind of makes me want to cry because it frustrates me so damn much. I apparently need to be more vocal about it. It's an issue. I am quite aware of it.
I want to get a word in. Why do I have to be silent? If you don't want to listen, let's not talk - how about that?
Last night I was talking to my man and my bestie interrupted. I told him I was on the phone (on FB - he sent a message that he was going to call me). He decided to call anyway and proceeds to speak loudly on the machine (yes, I have a land line also) and though he was being funny I thought maybe something was up. So I answer it and he starts talking about nothing important and doesn't shut up. I was like "I am on the phone - what's up?"
After a few minutes, an exasperated Mac is like - "Call me back." I do not blame him for being annoyed. He should have been the priority. And he was in my heart. My friend was just being obnoxious. It was annoying. I was so frazzled.
So I am on the phone with my friend for a bit and the whole time I am completely irritated, concerned that Mac is upset, and annoyed because I have never interrupted my friend when he was talking to his boyfriend. I don't call him when he is about to have dinner with him and then say - "you see him all the time; talk to me." Frankly, he just would not have answered the phone, which is what I should have done. I noticed this pattern with us in the last year. I am always available, he is only available when it's convenient. It's bullshit.
Yet he did run out and get me meds when my ulcer freaked out on me last week. Friendships have their struggles. I am sure he is dealing with the fact that I am moving. We've actually had nothing but time to spend together while I have been out of work. I think he is realizing that he should have taken advantage of our schedules. He works odd shifts, so it's pretty easy for us to get together.
Did I quote the Black Eyed Peas as my title? Forgive me. But I had to. Look at the mini-Fey. She has so much swagger!
Tonight is a fun filled evening with my girl and My Life With the Thrill Kill Cult and Front 242. Bring on the industrial.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
I Am Gonna Blow It Up With My Spicyness
Something California does not have is giardiniera. It's apparently a Chicago thing and frankly, something I cannot live without. If it is not a common thing in your region, do not be fooled by the vinegar soaked spicy pickled salad they pass off as giardiniera. Not that that stuff is bad. It's a good relish; it's just not the same thing.
Every time we go shopping out there, I look for it. They simply do not have it. It is a sin. A sin, I tell you. I decided to take some with me, like a pack mule. But I made a huge mistake.
I usually check my bag. Just because I am paranoid and also because I throw things in my suitcase at the last minute. I do not want to worry about it. I also am all of 5'1", which makes the task of using the overhead bin a challenge. I know I can ask for help, but I just do not want to deal. Check it and forget about it.
I was taking a bunch of toiletries to leave out there, so I would just have everything I need out there. No need to carry all that stuff every single time, you know? I know I need perfume, makeup and deodorant, conditioner - just leave it there.
My bag was a tad heavy. It was 52 lbs. The person at check-in asks if I can take something out. In my haste, I think "the giardenera is exactly 2 lbs." She tells me that food items are fine. So I take it out.
As I am in the security line, I think that maybe that was a bad call. It is after all packed in oil. And I clearly am going to endanger everyone on the plane with my chopped celery, carrots, peppers, and cauliflower. Especially since I honestly can barely keep my eyes open when flying. I sleep like a baby Stella.
Those TSA mother fuckers snagged my food. For real. They took it. And I do not mean the confiscated it and tossed it. They TOOK it. I was like "ok, I'll throw it out" and they said that they had to scan again. They went through my bag, removed it. Told me they had to rescan all of it, but did not rescan the jars. They sat neatly on the top of the machine. Wrapped in the towel and Ziploc bag.
Tell me that the agents did not have some yummy sandwiches that night. I swear.
Am I really a threat? Good lord.
Then some jamoke says to me " you know you can mail that stuff right?"
I was all "really? you can mail things?" What a chump! Yeah, I wanted to surprise my boyfriend since they don't have it out there, you dumb moose knuckle.
Though I have yet to be groped in security. So hooray for that. I was super paranoid about that happening.
Here's some straight edge punk rock for you.
Every time we go shopping out there, I look for it. They simply do not have it. It is a sin. A sin, I tell you. I decided to take some with me, like a pack mule. But I made a huge mistake.
I usually check my bag. Just because I am paranoid and also because I throw things in my suitcase at the last minute. I do not want to worry about it. I also am all of 5'1", which makes the task of using the overhead bin a challenge. I know I can ask for help, but I just do not want to deal. Check it and forget about it.
I was taking a bunch of toiletries to leave out there, so I would just have everything I need out there. No need to carry all that stuff every single time, you know? I know I need perfume, makeup and deodorant, conditioner - just leave it there.
My bag was a tad heavy. It was 52 lbs. The person at check-in asks if I can take something out. In my haste, I think "the giardenera is exactly 2 lbs." She tells me that food items are fine. So I take it out.
As I am in the security line, I think that maybe that was a bad call. It is after all packed in oil. And I clearly am going to endanger everyone on the plane with my chopped celery, carrots, peppers, and cauliflower. Especially since I honestly can barely keep my eyes open when flying. I sleep like a baby Stella.
Those TSA mother fuckers snagged my food. For real. They took it. And I do not mean the confiscated it and tossed it. They TOOK it. I was like "ok, I'll throw it out" and they said that they had to scan again. They went through my bag, removed it. Told me they had to rescan all of it, but did not rescan the jars. They sat neatly on the top of the machine. Wrapped in the towel and Ziploc bag.
Tell me that the agents did not have some yummy sandwiches that night. I swear.
Am I really a threat? Good lord.
Then some jamoke says to me " you know you can mail that stuff right?"
I was all "really? you can mail things?" What a chump! Yeah, I wanted to surprise my boyfriend since they don't have it out there, you dumb moose knuckle.
Though I have yet to be groped in security. So hooray for that. I was super paranoid about that happening.
Here's some straight edge punk rock for you.
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