sweet land of liberty

in the spirit of my great country's independence day, i thought i would take a moment to reflect on some of the wise words carved into history by our fearless leader. let us all pay homage to W, eloquent master of the english language....

"This process has been drug out a long time, which says to me it's political." --George W. Bush, discussing the controversy surrounding Attorney General Alberto Gonzalez, Sofia, Bulgaria, June 11, 2007

"One of my concerns is that the health care not be as good as it can possibly be." --George W. Bush, on military benefits, Tipp City, Ohio, April 19, 2007

"And there is distrust in Washington. I am surprised, frankly, at the amount of distrust that exists in this town. And I'm sorry it's the case, and I'll work hard to try to elevate it." --George W. Bush, interview on National Public Radio, Jan. 29, 2007

"I think -- tide turning -- see, as I remember -- I was raised in the desert, but tides kind of -- it's easy to see a tide turn -- did I say those words?" --George W. Bush, asked if the tide was turning in Iraq, Washington, D.C., June 14, 2006

President Bush: "Peter. Are you going to ask that question with shades on?"
Peter Wallsten of the Los Angeles Times: "I can take them off."
Bush: "I'm interested in the shade look, seriously."
Wallsten: "All right, I'll keep it, then."
Bush: "For the viewers, there's no sun."
Wallsten: "I guess it depends on your perspective."
Bush: "Touche."
--an exchange with legally blind reporter Peter Wallsten, to whom Bush later apologized, Washington, D.C., June 14, 2006 (Watch video clip)

"Make no mistake about it, I understand how tough it is, sir. I talk to families who die." --George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., Dec. 7, 2006 (Watch video clip)

"You know, one of the hardest parts of my job is to connect Iraq to the war on terror." --George W. Bush, interview with CBS News' Katie Couric, Sept. 6, 2006

"Wow! Brazil is big." --George W. Bush, after being shown a map of Brazil by Brazilian president Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, Brasilia, Brazil, Nov. 6, 2005

"Because he's hiding." --George W. Bush, responding to a reporter who asked why Osama bin Laden had not been caught, aboard Air Force One, Jan. 14, 2005

"Who could have possibly envisioned an erection -- an election in Iraq at this point in history?" --George W. Bush, at the white House, Washington, D.C., Jan. 10, 2005

and for more fourth of july fun, test your knowledge of our revered POTUS by taking the bush trivia quiz, challenge your ability to fill in the words of the president by completing the bushisms quiz or figure out your own political affiliation with the republican or democrat quiz. hours of good clean fun for the whole family! maybe we'll invite scooter libby over now that he won't be serving time in jail and we can get the low-down on how having a creepy vice president as a friend can save your ass.

so exactly how would mr. bush respond to my salute to him on this, our most patriotic holiday? i'm thinking something like this.....

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY EVERYONE!! ENJOY THE HOLIDAY AND TRY NOT TO MAME YOURSELF ON ILLEGAL FIREWORKS. :)

accidentally fabulous

the summer has been a rush of plans, activities, events and friends so far. may flew by, june has come and gone and though i've had a great time staying busy, i was very much looking forward to this past weekend of having absolutely nothing to do. my biggest goal for the weekend was to go to the grocery store and perhaps do something that somewhat resembled physical activity. maybe.

so when the roommate initially proposed that we visit the taste of chicago for dinner on friday night, my first reaction was to wonder why in the hell 2 sane chicago residents would venture to the taste on opening night. however, the weather was gorgeous, i had no other plans and the list of participating restaurants and food vendors was too tempting, so hunger won out over common sense in the end. we headed to the taste and thoroughly enjoyed tapas portions of samosas, curry-spiced fries with chutney sauce, toasted ravioli, falafel, cheesy garlic bread, pound cake with fig vodka butter sauce drizzled with chocolate (i just drooled on my keyboard) and - just for you arrested development fans - frozen chocolate covered bananas. (10 cents, however, does NOT get you nuts) all in all the food was great. i won't even go into a description of our fellow taste attendees - that would have to be another post of its own. suffice it to say, i will never be returning to the taste of chicago again, but i am glad that i went once to sample lots of yummy goodness. the end of the night consisted of a movie and a bottle of wine, which was exactly what i needed after stuffing myself silly.

having no set plans on saturday, i slept very late, had lunch outside at one of my favorite neighborhood places, played tennis, went to the grocery and had a fabulous healthy dinner. later that night i went out with friends and we simply sat outside, had a few beers and just enjoyed good conversation and the nice weather. after the friends left, roommate and i headed across the street to the irish pub where we had a couple more beers, met a romanian guy who gave us a grueling geography lesson and bought us a round, and finally got kicked out by the bouncer when the bar was closing. we stumbled home and i don't even remember my head hitting the pillow.

sunday dawned sunny and warm and begged everyone in the city to come out and play. i obliged, going with the roommate to the beach and lying in the sand, soaking up some sun, and dozing to the new ryan adams cd on my ipod. it's been a long time since i felt sand between my toes and relaxed to the backdrop of vivid blue water. having worked up quite an appetite with all of our outdoor activity, we abandoned the beach in search of mexican food, outside seating and some margaritas. we found what we were looking for in logan square and a pitcher of margaritas later we were spontaneously on our way to the pontiac for honky tonk bingo. very few things compare to sitting outside, drinking beer, and listening to a vulgar man with a thick country accent call bingo numbers and give away shitastic prizes like rubber chickens, cardboard airplanes, hot wheels, and crayons. amanda was one of the lucky winners - she got a 1000 piece puzzle and you better believe we'll break that bad boy out one of these nights. honky tonk bingo night would not have been complete without some country music and fulton county line gave us our fill. after a couple beers and several rounds of bingo, we decided to be responsible and call it quits. driving back toward our apartment, we approached a certain bar which, for reasons that need not be discussed or rehashed, has been dubbed "the gates of hell." as luck would have it, there was a parking space right outside and it was as if amanda's car parked itself and chucked us out in the direction of the bar. once inside we chatted with the bartender and ended up having drinks and doing a couple of shots with him and his friend. finally after midnight we payed our tab and headed to the nastiest of nasty - the taco bell.

tucking in after 1 am with my belly full and my head fuzzy, i had to smile about the weekend. it was stress-free, fun, and everything just fell into place from the weather to the bars to the random people we encountered. it's the kind of weekend you just can't plan for and you don't want to end. muy bien!

in absentia

i realize that i've been quite absent from the blogging world as of late. mostly due to having nothing of note to blog about, i've logged on, stared at the blank screen, started to write about yet another bout of road rage, too much drinking, my lack of motivation to work out, or the inevitable encounter with some chavvy guy, and then stopped and figured my poor internet readers had heard it all before....and again....and yet again....

so really i'm just checking in to say hi, i'm alive, completely sober and still single. in lieu of blogging, here are some things i *have* been doing lately.....

entertained my sister and niece (as you all know)

spent a fabulous weekend at my old stomping grounds in bloomington for jill & nick's nuptuals

went on the chicago architecture tour

and of course, celebrated pride weekend with my favorite moes

i also went to mayfest, took in a cubs game with annie, reported for jury duty, reconnected with my friend stephanie, rearranged our apartment, got to spend time with casi who escaped briefly from the land of potatoes, went for farewell drinks for a colleague, became unnaturally addicted to the british series "hollyoaks", got some very positive news about work, spent lots of time in 1R with my new fabulous neighbors, did some shopping, ate a lot, drank a lot and am now vowing to dust off that gym membership card and attempt to work off some of the fun i've had the past 6 weeks.

so please forgive my lack of blogging. i'm back, less busy and will surely be able to regale you with stories of bird poop, hangovers, idiot men and random encounters of the andrea kind. stay tuned.

VP of WHAT?

as i sat in the waiting area of the cook county courthouse yesterday awaiting my number to be called for the jury selection process, my fellow jurors and i were treated to the day's episode of the view. after one particular segment in which i thought for sure kathy griffin and baa baa waa waa were going to duke it out, the show went to a commercial break.

your typical, run-of-the mill feminine maxi pad commercial rolled and for the next 30 seconds my poor, bored-to-the-state-of-mush brain began to wonder who designs maxi pads. and more importantly, what is their job title? some examples i thought were fitting.....

Jane Doe, Senior VP of Leakage Prevention

John Doe, (right - as if these things are designed by a man, but i'm an equal opportunity smart ass)
Lead Project Manager, Protection Division

J. Doe, Sanitary Needs Director

J. Doe, Head Engineer, Pad Design Team

J. Doe, Absorption Specialist


i know, i know. why would i spend any amount of time actually thinking of these things?? i'll tell you why - because that's how much waiting for jury duty sucks. still, i'd love to meet someone who works for tampax or kotex or one of the other feminine hygiene companies and take a gander at their business card. i guess it's better than other jobs, though. like being a spooge mopper at a strip club. ew.

for the other auntie andrea....

home again, home again, jiggidy jig!

i am so excited, i can barely contain myself. in a few short days, my sister and niece will arrive from london for a very impromptu, spur-of-the-moment 2 week visit! i'll be cleaning and shopping and baby-proofing all weekend in preparation for their stay with me. though, by the look of her sweet little face, you wouldn't think that she'd get into anything, right?? a perfect little angel if you ask me!

yeah, riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight................

this is more like it:

i cannot wait to have her here running around, bringing to my apartment the sweet chaos that only her adorable self could make me look forward to. it'll be fantastic to see my sis, too, of course and to take them out and let them really enjoy all that my fabulous city has to offer.

i wonder if i can hold them hostage and make them and my brother-in-law move back here for good....

fun with conference calls

things i do while on conference calls:

- file my nails
- pay bills
- check email
- send text messages
- make grocery/target lists
- make to do lists
- work on other projects
- play snood
- eat
- stay silent when asked a question (they'll think they lost me somehow)
- instant message
- shop online
- draw on my notes
- organize my office
- spin in my chair
- pretend i have a bad connection and hang up early
- make faces at colleagues
- blog

hey, you gotta pass the time somehow. you can tell i'm on a call right now, can't you?

it's flip cup time in the city

this weekend marked an unofficial holiday for all of us adults who like to revel once a year in the behavior of college days past. as april 21 neared, we dusted off the plastic cups, assumed our fighting stances at our tables and practiced the one sip, one flip method that would lead only one team to flip cup victory. saturday dawned warm and sunny - a perfect day for drinking - nay, chugging - beer. people across the chicago area pulled on festive t-shirts promoting team names like "cirrhosis not fibrosis", "chug, set, flip", "mother fuckin' booze time", "team banana hammock", "pink tacos", "what the flip?", "e=mc hammered", "team dick in a box", "flippin' sexy beer monsters" and many, many more. we flocked to the bar, slapped on the wristbands and waited anxiously for the tournament to begin. some drank ahead of time, some huddled and talked strategy, some lined up at the tables and practiced their last minute flipping skills. and suddenly it was 2:30 - teams had been checked in, the schedule of play posted, beer poured, and players flanked the tables, ready to flip to their hearts' content. the event was a huge success and everyone (that one stupid complaining idiot bitch so does not count) had a great time and we raised over $3000 for the cystic fibrosis foundation.

sadly, my team didn't even make it out of pool play, but we were able to cheer on our friends who made it to the final. even better than the event itself was something that happened later. post flip cup, several of us wandered over to another bar to sit outside, drink more and enjoy the gorgeous weather. at one point in the evening, annie, aka flip cup organizer extraordinaire, called her nephew ryan who has CF and has been the inspiration for this event, now in it's third year. he thanked her for what she was doing and everyone at the table was in tears. as much as we all have fun talking smack, coming up with crazy team names, and getting completely wasted mid-day, this reminded us all of the real reason behind the event. we're flippin for a cure.

thanks, annie, for all of your hard work again this year. we had a fantastic time! and if anyone has a doubt about that, see pics below.....

why, gap, why??

i had one of the single most annoying shopping experiences of my life today. i left work a little early and decided on a whim to stop into the gap to get myself a new pair of jeans. typically i absolutely hate shopping for jeans - they're always too long, too big in the waist, too tight on my butt, etc. - but the roommate just recently found some really cute ones at gap, so i decided to take my chances there.

i wandered to the back of the store where an entire wall is devoted to jeans. low-rise, boot cut, boyfriend, curvy, short, extra long, dark, distressed, faded.... you name it, there was a shade and style of denim to fit it. unfortunately there wasn't a pair that would fit ME. i started sifting through the pristinely folded pants and immediately noticed a pattern. all of the jeans seemed to come only in sizes 0, 2, and 4, many of which were also long lengths. i started rummaging with a fury, convinced that the gap wouldn't betray me like this and only carry jeans that fit tall stick figures (think 6 foot praying mantis in gap denim). after unearthing one size 8 and one size 10 (both in horrific shades of stonewash that didn't even look like they belonged with all of those dark, tiny jeans) i gave in to the truth. there were only little people sizes at the gap. i stepped back from the shelves crammed with all of those jeans and sighed. i thought briefly that i had inadvertantly wandered into the children's section. nope. regular womens section it was. shaking my head in disappointment, i felt my excitement for shopping deflate like a balloon. turning my back on the traitorous denim wall, i hung my head and walked dejectedly out of the store, not even noticing or caring anymore about the massive sale going on or the cute ballet flats i was eyeing when i first arrived.

did i think about asking the sales people if they had normal girl sizes? yeah, for about 2 seconds and then that scene from pretty woman where the snotty sales women won't help julia roberts flashed through my mind. it could have gone something like this....

me: um, excuse me. do you have any of these jeans in bigger sizes?

gap twiglet: (blank stare) um, why?

me: because right now in order to wear any of those jeans, i would have to buy two pairs and sew them together.

gap twiglet: (with look of disdain) i don't think we have anything in your size. marcus! do you think we have anything in her size?

gap mo: (sashaying over from where he was folding tank tops, gives a once over, frowns, folds arms) oh honey, no. we only like our clothes to be seen on tiny people. lane bryant is right across the hall.

me: fuck you.

it just wouldn't have been pretty. maybe i'll give a different location a chance, but i'm pretty sure i'll never venture into that particular store again. the last thing a girl needs when she's trying to find a pair of jeans that fits well and makes her ass look great is to be mocked by 100 pairs of jeans that can be worn only by roughly 5% of the female population. come on gap. i'd love to fall into your jeans, i just don't want to have to give myself an eating disorder to do so.

the tax man cometh

wooo hoooo!! 11:16pm on april 16 and i have finished my taxes - an entire 24 hours and 44 minutes before the actual deadline this year, i might add. just for fun, another comic from explosm.net. oh how i love them.

rest in peace

this is an actual plaque mounted on a bench somewhere in the south bank area of london. nice to know i'm not the only one mourning the much desired, yet deceased notion of finding a good guy...

happy easter

a dear sean letter...

dear sean,

i know you will find this letter to be a surprise given the fact that we have not been in contact at all for a couple of years and broke off our relationship over 6 years ago. time is a funny thing - it makes you forget certain things and people and softens your views on bad experiences from the past. it often makes you nostalgic for people and events and helps you look back on situations and relationships as learning experiences from which you gleen wisdom and appreciation. i would like to say that when i look back at the nearly 5 years we dated, i remember that time fondly and focus only on the good times; that when i look back i remember us as silly college kids having fun and falling in love. but i can't. maybe i did for a while, when time had dulled the memories of our arguing, the break-ups, the disrespect you showed me. but something new has come to light, something that just made the real memory of our relationship rear its ugly head.

i now know with 100% certainty that you did, indeed, cheat on me while we were dating. all of those times i suspected it and heard vague rumors that couldn't really be substantiated, you made me feel like i was crazy and jealous and overdramatic. you mindfucked me into believing you and i bought right into it. stupid, on my part, i know but i loved you and wanted to believe that you wouldn't intentionally hurt me. and here it is over 6 years after our breakup and you're still hurting me, still making me feel stupid. when i heard that you got a blowjob from a certain nasty skank on your trip to new orleans - the trip you took when we were dating seriously, the trip you lied to me about when i asked if any girls went, the trip where you did god only knows what else besides let that whore go down on you - i felt like i had been kicked in the stomach. all of the hurt, frustration, anger, and disrespect i felt when we were dating came rushing back to me in full force. i didn't show it, of course. you are certainly not worth the energy it would have taken for me to express any or all of those emotions. i gave up wasting my energy on you years ago. so i sat there, shaking my head and rolling my eyes, calling you many names of the fuckwad, dickhead, idiot-moron-with-no-soul variety and pretended it didn't bother me in the least because, after all, what's done is done. but now i know for sure that you lied to me and i wasn't crazy for worrying about you cheating on me and that all of those times you tore me down, you should have been apologizing for being a bastard.

i hate that i even let it get to me. i hate that you still can hurt me after all these years. and i hate that i let you do that to me - then and now.

i know you've changed, grown up and apologized many times for the way you treated me back then. and i appreciate that about you. but those apologies can never change how badly you treated me, no matter how much time tries to dull the edges of those sharp, bitter memories that have carved a permanent hollow in me.

i don't wish you unhappiness. i just wish you hadn't caused me so much.

andrea

track back to the past

i made the 5 hour drive down to my parents' house last weekend in order to attend my cousin's wedding. i won't even go into the wedding details, how much i drank or that i *may* have started to throw a little pity party for my poor single self halfway through the reception. i do, however, have to give a big shout out to my cousin for not doing the god-forsaken bouquet toss. i swear i would have hidden in the bathroom and let my fellow single ladies (aka the group of 6-9 year old little girls) fight it out for the hope of being the next one to enter marital bliss.

but, i digress. saturday morning i woke up early and saw that it was going to be a beautiful day. bright, sunny and warm - just what i was craving coming to the end of my long chicago winter. i sat outside on the porch, drinking coffee and reading. mid morning i decided to get off my ass and go for a little walk/jog. now, i have to preface this by saying two things: a) my jogging is the furthest thing from fast motion you will ever see and 2) there are hardly any sidewalks in my tiny little hometown, so i had to go out to the middle school and use the track to do my thing.

as i turned up my ipod and started my 3 1/2 mile journey around the track, i started reminiscing about the days when i attended school in the building in front of me. once surrounded on 2 sides by corn fields, the school grounds now fade into housing developments and neighborhoods. it made me think of when we used to split into small reading groups in 8th grade english, sprawling on the floor, pushing desks together, or whatever we could do to establish different camps for each group. my group always sat at the back corner of the room right next to a tiny vestibule that housed a door to the outside, aka freedom. we would dare each other to run out the door, touch a stalk in the cornfield, run back and collapse with our book before our teacher could catch us. ah, the good old days. no way any kids in that classroom are doing that now. they'd run right into a construction zone and be caught for sure.

i laughed to myself at that memory and started thinking back on other times and events that had taken place when i was in middle school. middle school was the time when we were all realizing we wanted independence, realizing that we wanted to be grown up. unfortunately for us, we were far from adulthood, though we felt fully justified in pretending we could make the best decisions for ourselves and viewed our parents as annoying nags that existed only to remind us of rules and consequences. we wanted to go places with our friends, stay out late, go to concerts, and dress and behave however we wanted. (looking back, i really should have listened to my mother when she told me how ridiculous tight-rolled jeans looked. gag.)

feeling trapped between childhood and adulthood, we did what we could to assert ourselves and act on our own ideas and opinions. that time was also a time of many firsts. i remember with vivid detail my first kiss in the locker bay - he was tall and tasted like strawberry candy and even though the kiss was sloppy and strange, the new sensation left me feeling dizzy and my stomach doing somersaults. it was also a time for my first perm - dear god, that's a first that never should have occurred, but in the spirit of the early 90's there i was - 13 and permed like a poodle. my middle school years also brought my first school dance. getting ready with my friend and being dropped off at the dance was so exciting. we giggled and talked about who we wanted to dance with and what we thought everyone else would be wearing. once there, we looked around with great anticipation as though this dance might just be the singular most significant event to happen in our young lives. man, were we wrong. but, we had fun and we both got to dance, quite closely i might add, with the boys we liked. at the end of the night when her parents picked us up, we floated home, sure that we had just sealed our future happiness somehow.

there were spring break trips with friends and their families, parties (the infamous ones at a certain friend's house because her mom let the boys SPEND THE NIGHT - a fact my sister and i have only recently divulged to our own parents), group outings to the mall, high school football games on friday nights, and anything else we could do with a gaggle of friends and away from the parental units. middle school was the first time i took a foreign language class - si! -, the first time i had to pick up a needle and thread in home ec (my teacher told me i was the slowest one in the class), the first time i operated a bandsaw and jigsaw via industrial arts class (i rocked on the woodworking), and the first time i stepped into a darkroom to learn how to develop pictures. as much as i complain about the small town mentality of the school system there and the lack of creative and cultural courses, i felt that i was being exposed to a lot of new and different things from 6th to 8th grade.

i don't know why i felt compelled to write about my middle school days, other than the fact that my memory was jarred when i was walking there at the track on saturday. but looking back i remember those years pretty fondly. i doubt, however, that my parents would share the same sentiment. they call 7th grade the "year of hell" for both me and my sister. and here i thought i was trying to do them a favor by letting them know that i didn't need parental advice or assistance anymore and would be just fine doing things on my own! (except for making money, driving, buying clothes, cooking dinner, etc, of course) hmphh. ingrates.

aaaaaaand we've finally reached the interactive portion of today's blog. what are your best/worst/weirdest memories of middle school or junior high?

"i'm the master of low expectations." (george w. bush - 6/4/03)

at the end of my recent visit to the UK, my sister's father-in-law was kind enough to drive me to the airport. politely pretending not to notice my attempts to hide my tears and sniffles as we drove away from my brother-in-law, sister and precious niece, he made small talk about the weather, that day's upcoming rugby match between england and france, and explained to me why he was taking the route we were on as opposed to taking the expressway. as the tears and sniffling subsided, we began chatting about other things and the conversation eventually turned to politics. we were discussing the front-runners from each party for the next presidential election and both agreed that there really is nowhere to go but up when you're talking about the next president of the US. and then came this comment....

"you know, i think i can safely say that most people here look at the united states and see this highly industrialized country of 300 million people and we wonder how george bush was the best person you could come up with.... twice."

all i could do in response was laugh and assure him that there are many, many americans who feel the exact same way. and while i did find the comment to be humorous (as was intended), it also made me feel a tad embarrassed to be reminded that other countries look at our president and see a bumbling idiot - a fact the american people have resigned ourselves to with annoyance, frustration, and much shaking of our collective heads.

i'll look forward to talking politics again with bruce after the election of a new president. after all, we have nowhere to go but up, right?

need something

not sure what to write. brain is not functioning at full capacity. first full day back at work after london vacation. need more sleep. need more cold medicine. need more cowbell. wait...no cowbell. need to hide from email and voicemail. need to be outside in the gorgeous sunny weather playing tennis. or drinking. whichever. need to be able to form complete sentences rather than just fragments. need coffee. have now typed the word "need" so many times it is ceasing to look like a real word. need spellcheck.

hodge podge o' thoughts

i've become a tad obsessed with the nbc drama "heroes" this season. there's just something about people realizing they have the power to read others' thoughts, heal almost instantly from any injury, paint images from the future, fly like a bird, become invisible at will, erase people's minds, and travel through time that kind of makes me wish i myself had some sort of super power. naturally, my first inclination is to wish i could turn water into wine. that jesus must have saved himself a bundle by being able to do that. so, at the risk of sounding like an 8 year old boy who has read a few too many super hero comics, i wonder what i would want my super power to be. would i fly? no, probably not. i like the memory-erasing thing, but that doesn't seem like a whole lot of fun. i could definitely make good use of the time travel thing or the invisibility power. hmmm.... ok, no idea why i felt compelled to blog about that. you all now know that i have a nerdy fascination with super heroes. i don't even need to tell you that i just watched x-men 3 and had a very lengthy debate with my dad about it. (at least i know whose dna passed along this delightful interest of mine)

moving along, i have to also mention something that has become a huge peeve of mine. why do people leave their cell phones on when they're at the office?!! i know, i know - sometimes you need to have it on because you're expecting a certain call or whatever and that's fine. i just get soooooo sick of hearing random phones going off all over my office all day long. and not just the normal rings, but ringtones ranging from country singers belting out their ballads to techno tones to short rendetions of broadway musicals. come on people - put them on vibrate. you won't die if you don't hear that ringtone for a full 8 hours. i promise.

last but not least, i saw a truck on my way to work this morning that was labeled "bureau of rodent control." ew. it had never crossed my mind - and really, why should it? - that there might be an entire bureau of city government committed to the control of rodents. i'm sure it makes sense, especially in a big city like chicago, but still - ew. i'd much rather work for the abandoned buildings division or the graffiti blasters department. the only one that may be worse than the bureau of rodent control is the toxic pollution control unit and that's still a bit of a toss up. if you factor in the dead animal recovery station that falls under the bureau of rodent control, i think i'd sign up for toxic pollution. (more information on the various city departments and bureaus here.)

that's all i've got today. i'll be running around like a chicken with its head cut off this evening trying to pack and get all ready for my trip to london tomorrow night!!!! yay!!! so, if my thought process in this post seems a bit scattered and random (and useless), please forgive me - my few living and functioning brain cells are already across the big pond!

insert disc, rip out heart

i was driving along this morning, rifling through my cd collection in need of something i hadn't heard in a while. i ran across a blank cd with no label or writing on it. figuring it must be some sort of collection of songs i or one of my friends had put together, i popped it in, looking forward to a random mixture of fun tunes. what i got instead was a compilation of depressing songs chosen for their ability to water the eye and puncture the soul. clearly, this mix had been made when i was in the depths of despair, most likely post-breakup or following the death of a loved one. (because "never gonna fall in love again" by snow patrol and a particularly upbeat remix of "since you've been gone" by kelly clarkson made it on the disc of despair, i'm leaning toward man problems as the motivation for this mix)

some of the tracks include "look what you've done" - jet, "hallelujah" - rufus wainwright version, "cannonball" - damien rice, "the scientist" - coldplay, "eddie walker" - ben folds, "stay or leave" - dave matthews, "victim of a foolish heart" - joss stone, "la cienega just smiled" - ryan adams, and a guster/dave matthews song that i cannot remember the name of, but i love it.

there's just something about listening to songs that make you want to slit your wrists with a rusty butterknife that seems so right when you're feeling blue. excerpts from my top 3:

la cienega just smiled (ryan adams) :

"And I hold you close in the back of my mind

Feels so good but damn it makes me hurt

And I'm too scared to know to how I feel about you now

La Cienega just smiles..."see ya around"

And I hold you close in the back of my mind

And raise my glass 'cause either way I'm dead

Neither of you really help me to sleep anymore

One breaks my body and the other breaks my soul

La Cienega just smiles as it waves goodbye"

stay or leave (dave matthews):

Stay or leave

I want you not to go

But you should

It was good as good goes

Stay or leave

I want you not to go

But you did

So what to do

With the rest of the day's afternoon hey

Isn't it strange how we change

Everything we did

Did I do all that i should

That I coulda done

Remember we used to dance

And everyone wanted to be

You and me

I want to be too

What day is this

Besides the day you left me

What day is this

Besides the day you went"

cannonball (damien rice):

There's still a little bit of your taste in my mouth

There's still a little bit of you laced with my doubt

It's still a little harder to say what's going on

There's still a little bit of your ghost, your weakness

There's still a little bit of your face, I haven't kissed

You step a little closer each day

That I can't see what's going on

Stones taught me to fly

Love, it taught me to lie

Life, it taught me to die

So it's not hard to fall

When you float like a cannonball"

so feel free to share - what are your top songs that rip out your heart and force you to relive some depressing, sad event in your life? what do you pop in the cd player when you need a good cry or feel like wallowing?

that cheating heart

i've always been of the - perhaps naive - assumption that cheating is the single worst thing one person can do to another within a relationship. cheating robs the relationship of trust, loyalty, and comfort and plants seeds of doubt, guilt, and suspicion. i've always thought that cheating signified something fundamentally wrong with a relationship and that those who cheat, or entertain the idea of cheating, should focus on solving the problems in their relationship rather than avoiding their issues by hooking up with someone else. to me, cheating was the most hurtful act, one that was unforgivable in any circumstance.

that said, recently i've been hearing quite a few stories of infidelity and wondering if maybe my opinion is too antiquated, too harsh. these instances aren't just those of the stereotypical shithead guy who has no regard for his girlfriend and cheats without a second thought (though i know of a couple of these). these stories include girlfriends and boyfriends, husbands and wives, single episodes and repeated hook-ups, done simply for fun, as a way to get attention, or to relieve the monotony of settling down.

so is it possible to cheat and really have no remorse or guilt? in the case of a man or woman who is dating someone seriously but isn't married, is it really that easy to have sex with other people on the side, the defense to that being that they see nothing wrong with it because they aren't married? and would he/she ever tell the significant other what's going on? of course not. so, doesn't that mean there is still some kind of guilt? or is it the thrill of getting away with it that drives this kind of cheating? do you really love someone if you're willing to cheat on them whenever the opportunity presents itself?

and for those who are in serious relationships or marriages, how much can one cheat and not feel compelled to come clean to their partner? are these the cases where the cheating signifies problems in the relationship rather than just a one-time mistake or someone single just trying to sow what's left of those wild oats? are there cases where cheating can actually revive the person who was feeling lost, bored, or unsatisfied and lead to improvements in the relationship? and what happens when and if the cheater confesses to their partner? how do you go about forgiving and repairing this kind of betrayal?

i'm only asking because it's been a very, very long time since i was in any sort of relationship and i'm wondering if, with adulthood and the responsibilities of relationships and marriage, the line between commitment and cheating becomes a little blurred. i still hold to the idea that i would not cheat and would expect not to be cheated on, but is it really so much easier said than done? i'd like to think that when/if i find the right guy, i won't have to worry about this, on his part or my own. but it makes me wonder....

"dreams are illustrations from the book your soul is writing about you"

i woke up this morning in sheer panic. sweating, breathing heavily, heart racing. i sat straight up in my bed and, as i looked around my room, i realized the events that led to my panic had only been a dream. collapsing with relief, i replayed the events of my dream and decided that it had, in fact, been a nightmare.

from what i recall, the dream started as i attended my cousin's wedding. i'm not sure that it was the actual wedding, but maybe the rehearsal or some sort of pre-wedding party. everyone there was asking me when i was going to settle down and find someone and get married. as i fielded questions and defended my single life, i noticed that all of the girls showing up for the wedding/rehearsal/party thing were wearing wedding dresses. i was the only one not in a big fluffy white dress.

suddenly, i was vaulted to another situation where, apparently, it was my wedding day. i was in a car with my friends and we were trying to find somewhere to eat. we were driving through a mall parking lot and they decided to stop at a white castle (puke). we then went to some place with long, cafeteria-style tables, and they all sat down to eat. i needed to get ready so i wandered around trying to find a place to change. i ended up in the handicapped stall in some crowded public restroom, struggling to change without dropping anything in the toilet or drag the dress on the dirty floor. i remember the door wouldn't lock and the women in the restroom kept staring and whispering about me changing into my wedding dress.

next thing i know, i'm in the dress and at the scene of the ceremony. outside on the very green grounds of what may have been a country club of some sort, there was a large white tent erected and the wedding guests were milling around waiting for the nuptuals to begin. on closer inspection the guests were all of my ex boyfriends, hook-ups, dates, etc. there with their respective wives. i remember that i started sweating at this point and feeling very dizzy. the tent was at the top of a hill and i was to trudge up the hill during the wedding march to get to my future husband. i waited at the bottom for my dad to escort me, but he didn't come to get me i climbed up the hill to find out what was going on. my mom appeared holding my lip gloss and her cell phone and told me that my dad had been called into the hospital for an emergency (my father is NOT a doctor) and wouldn't be there to walk me down (up) the aisle. i began to hyperventilate and cry. i started running away and came to a huge inground pool. i crouched beside it to try to calm down and caught my reflection, in all my bridal glory, in the clear, cold water. i promptly threw up in the pool, effectively defiling the image of me as a bride. i threw my shoes into the pool and took off running again, down the hill, far, far away from the wedding.

and then, by the grace of god, i woke up. happy valentine's day. single is fabulous.

ode to VD

i like the abbreviation for valentine's day - VD - because i look forward to this day about as much as i would look forward to contracting a venerial disease. i don't need to explain to you, dear internet, my disdain for this hallmark holiday. i need not launch into a bitter diatribe about forced, guilt-driven consumerism, mass marketing of a senseless holiday, or the underlying notion that people should show their partners love every day of the year, not just february 14. conversation hearts, cupid and his arrow, hallmark cards, flowers and balloons, filled chocolate candies in those stupid heart-shaped boxes that resemble more of a blind taste test for arsenic than a fun sampling of yummy goodness..... they can all go to hell. don't even get me started on that kay jewelers jingle - "Every kiss begins with K!" puke.

interestingly enough, 85% of cards bought for valentine's day are purchased by women. guess what girls - we are wasting our money! however, it doesn't seem that this trend will change anytime soon, so let me provide a collection of VD cards that would actually be worth the time and money spent on them.

other fabulous anti-valentine's day cards are available here. now this is my kind of VD.

i have to also say that the only saving grace of this day is that it is my friend casi's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CASI!!! (my sympathies on sharing your special day with hallmark)

p.s. i was just forced into switching to the new version of blogger and it completely fucked this post and the positioning of the pics. grrrrrrr

stop expecting it to look like what you thought it was going to look like

i just had a birthday. a birthday marking the beginning of another decade of my life and rendering me an age i've been dreading for years; a milestone birthday if you will. thinking about how i had always pictured my life to be at age 30, i have to laugh. nothing is the way i thought it would be. i guess in some naive time of my life, i assumed by the age 30 - an age that seemed so old and ancient to me at one point - i would have the guy, the ring, the house, the job, the bank account, the kids. i assumed i would be settled into a blissful state of being where dating and money problems didn't exist. i assumed, at 30, i wouldn't be waking up with hangovers and/or strangers, wondering when/if i would have another date or relationship, or glaring hatefully at the happy couples that seem to infringe on every facet of my daily life. i assumed i would be a ball-busting career woman with a doting husband and adorable kids. i assumed i would find perfection.

i guess i should have known at the tender age of 6 that i was going to have issues with men and my idealistic view of my life in general. my cousins and i used to spend summers at my grandma's house. it would take me an entire post to explain how we made grandma's life miserable during those summers. i believe she once referred to watching over us as "herding cats", which is a pretty accurate description. in some of our calmer times, my cousins and i would pull out all of grandma's catalogs and pretend we were planning our weddings. we would pick out our colors, shoes, bridesmaids dresses, hairsyles, and wedding dresses. we would sometimes choose our china, our stemware, and other household gifts for our registries. but what we delighted in the most - aside from picking the diamond ring, of course - was choosing the groom. straight out of a catalog, i tell ya - can't go wrong there. with their dazzling white smiles and their perfect hair, these men offered picture perfect marriage material. sometimes we would fight over who got which groom; fights i usually lost simply because i was one of the youngest and my older cousins felt they got first dibs. i would pour over the catalogs, looking for what i thought would be the perfect man for me. at age six. i was doomed.

fast forward and here i am at 30. no mail order groom, no more catalogs to illustrate the false picture of perfection. years ago i abandoned the idea of the dream wedding and decided marriage isn't really important to me. years ago i decided that i prefer to live my life for me, not for a husband and kids. i don't need the perfect house in the suburbs or the waterford crystal. (ok, i'm not gonna lie - some waterford martini glasses would be fabulous) i'm not 6 years old anymore, planning a perfect catalog life. so what should i expect my life to look like down the road? i have no idea. and i kind of like it that way.

what i want to send to 90% of the population....

misfortune cookie

i remember the time i got a fortune cookie with no fortune in it. i figured it was that whole "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" philosophy and the all-knowing fortune cookie was simply taking the high road by choosing not to reveal my bad luck or craptastic karma. so, bitch though i did, i was secretly relieved. no news is good news, right?

fast forward to a cold night last january. sitting at home, waiting for a call about a date that never showed. i chose to drown my sorrows in wine and a buffet of chinese food. after hoovering more crab rangoon, rice, general tsao's chicken and lo-mein than any one human should ingest in a single sitting, i turned to my fortune cookie for comfort and the promise of something, anything, to hope for. here is what that little scrap of paper said:

"work on improving your exercise routine"

what the fucking hell? just. plain. rude. THAT was the last thing i needed to be told after being stood up and eating enough to feed a third world country. ugh.

fast forward again to last night. after enjoying some yummy sushi and fried rice, i pulled the plastic off my fortune cookie and broke it open. lo and behold, the fortune inside was yet another spectacular message. it read:

"voice your fears. safety may be at stake"

jesus, mary and joseph! can't a girl get a decent fortune?? does the all powerful fortune cookie god really hate me that much? and i have to admit, because i'm getting ready to jump on a plane to colorado and go skiing for the first time to celebrate my 30th bday, i'm a little nervous about this one warning me of impending doom. there. i said it. i voiced my fear. does that mean my safety is no longer at stake?? shitfuck. i'd like to go back to the empty cookie, please.

i think from now on i will bypass reading my fortune cookies all together. that way, what i don't know won't hurt me, right? oh, and in case anyone out there wants to know how it feels to be me, check this out. welcome to my world.

screw cupid AND his candy hearts

one morning last week i awoke, rolled out of bed and stumbled groggily into the kitchen. as i shuffled on autopilot toward the coffeepot, aka my life support, i remembered with a start that we were out of coffee. i cursed myself for not dragging my lazy ass to the store the day before to buy that life sustaining bag of beans. so, i threw on clothes, brushed my teeth and headed to a place ranking only above hell in my list of places i never want to visit - the grocery store.

i moved as quickly as possible through the store, avoiding fellow shoppers, stockboys, and other obstacles. i picked up a bagel, some fruit, creamer, cereal, and a bag of that blessed columbian blend that i love so much. in the process of rounding up these items, i was hit by a kid trying to drive his mom's cart, run into by an obnoxious woman on her cell phone, and managed to lay my keys down next to the bagels and then spend the rest of my time in the store retracing my steps until i found them. clearly, i do not do well without caffeine and i was not in a good mood.

finally, i was ready to checkout and head home. walking toward the checkout i noticed a display at the end of one of the aisles. it was full of valentine's day candy. and for some reason, all those red, pink and white bags and boxes covered in hearts filled me with rage. if cupid has an evil twin, i'm pretty sure he shot me right in the ass with his arrow that morning. as i walked past the display i noticed these lying on the floor. without missing a beat, i walked by and stomped on them. just stomped. right in stride, boom, boom, you're dead candy hearts! you will tell me no more lies. and then i continued on my way to the checkout with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. somewhere, cupid's evil twin is smiling down on me and all of the other bitter people who are dreading this upcoming holiday. and for us, he has provided these. well done. thanks for telling the truth.

um, no.

i was in a great mood this afternoon. my all-day meeting wrapped up around 2:00, leaving me with ample time to run errands and do with my afternoon whatever i wanted. the sun was shining, the air was cold and brisk, and i was walking down michigan avenue looking around with that weird appreciation for my city that sometimes strikes me when i stop long enough to let it.

so i'm walking along and heading toward me from the opposite direction is a man, probably 5'10", 250 pounds, in his early - mid 40s. he looks somewhat normal, though not very attractive, does not appear to be homeless or threatening, and probably would have passed by unnoticed had he not decided to try to communicate with me. as he gets closer he starts talking to (at) me. what does he say, you ask? please allow me to share:

dude (turning to talk at me as i attempt to keep walking and avoid him): "i'm single, i have no car, and i have no job! you just won the jackpot, baby!"

me: "um, no." (still walking)

dude: (still turning to talk at me after i'm past him) "oh come on!!"

me: "ew."

because i was actually in a good mood, i did not unleash self on him, but it did sort of make me want to stop and ask him why he would stop a girl in the middle of michigan avenue and announce that he is jobless, carless, and, luckily, he's single. what kind of reaction does a person expect from that kind of behavior?

apparently, this is what is attracted to me. and people ask why i'm single. it sure beats the hell out of the alternative.

hindsight is...too late

i've been trying to figure out a way to recap 2006 in a fun/witty/clever/interesting way and i've come to the conclusion that i have a mental block against dissecting the past year to pinpoint the good, the bad, and the ugly. self had the bad and ugly parts taken care of, as you might imagine, but i really want to focus on the good, especially now that it is a new year and, cliche as it might sound, a chance for a new start.

all in all, my year was somewhat of a rollercoaster. there were breakups and makeups, hookups and rejections, old friends and new ones, weddings and funerals, babies and engagements. there were changes in living situations, a visit to england, meeting my adorable niece, great opportunities at work, and a constant love for this city i live in. and let's not forget all of the concerts and bars and boys - oh my! there was laughter and tears and days when i didn't think i could get out of bed followed by days when i laughed so hard with my friends that i thought i might never stop smiling. i've been disappointed, overwhelmed, surprised, bitter, enlightened, frustrated, sad and delighted. i've walked out of my apartment cursing the day, only to have something or someone remind me of how lucky i am to have the life i do.

it's been a year of starbucks, wine, dinners with friends, brunches, happy hours and the occasional trip to the gym. i've played a lot of tennis, a lot of euchre and a little kickball. i've had my heart broken and when i thought i would never get over it, my friends were there to pick me up and help me through it. i've watched my little sister grow into a fantastic mom and my parents into doting grandparents. i'm reminded all the time that no matter what happens, no matter how many times a bird shits on me or a guy dumps me or i'm stressed out at work, my friends and family are my lifeline.

that's what my 2006 was really about - the people in my life. 2006 may have been a rollercoaster, but i'm so glad that when i look back at the good, the bad, and the ugly that i had my friends and family along for the ride.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS

to we or not to we

ok, so i know it's really annoying when you're talking with a new guy and 2 minutes into the conversation, he is overwhelming you with "WE do this", "WE do that", "WE like that bar", "WE hate that restaurant", "WE might be breaking up", etc. if i'm just standing next to someone at the bar, making idle conversation while waiting for a drink, i don't need to know the details of his relationship. however, there are certain situations when "WEing" is not only appropriate, but would be considered a courtesy.

i was at a work event a few weeks ago and hit it off really well with the guy who had organized it. the whole time we were there we were talking, asking each other about work, college, hobbies, bars, friends, living situations, etc. he made some flirty comments and i, who am told by my friends that i wouldn't recognize that a guy is flirting with me if he threw me over his shoulder and dragged me to his cave, actually thought there might be a spark. we had a lot in common, he had a fun, sarcastic sense of humor, and he never mentioned that he was dating anyone. period.

so, after a long thanksgiving weekend away and much coaching and encouragement from my friends, i finally crafted an email to him the week after we met. i referenced the work event, said it was nice to meet him, and then threw in the invitation that if he was going to be at x bar (one we agreed was a favorite for both of us and happened to be in my neighborhood) anytime soon and wanted to grab a drink, to let me know. as my friend ann would say, i was being the hunter. pat, pat, pat on the back for me. i seldom make a move on a guy, especially one i've met in a work situation. in fact, i've never thought of anyone i worked with as anything but a peer or colleague. but, there was something about this guy and how we got along and the flirty crap he said that made me take a deep breath, hit send, and pray i wouldn't regret it.

that was the tuesday after thanksgiving. i checked my email somewhat obsessively everyday after, growing more and more certain that i had made a complete and total ass of myself and he would never respond. to my chagrin, i finally got an email back on tuesday this week. i opened the email, with my hand halfway over my eyes as if that would protect me from any impending rejection that awaited. the message was very nice, said that he had enjoyed meeting me as well and as much as he appreciated the invite for a drink, he's actually dating someone and he didn't think it would be appropriate.

auuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sweet jesus in heaven. why the fuck had i even bothered to go out on a limb and ask this guy to meet up for a drink?! ugh. i just wanted to shrink into a corner and beat my head against the wall. had i really misread the situation?! did i imagine that there was a flirtation? what the hell had i been thinking? the whole thing has made me seriously question my ability to adequately gage interest from the opposite sex.

but, here's the question - shouldn't he have "WE'd" at some point? shouldn't there have been some sort of "WE like to go to that bar" or "WE are going to my parents' house for thanksgiving" or "WE are so busy during the holidays" or something?? couldn't there have been some reference to the girlfriend during our 2 hour conversation?

i'm so annoyed. all i seem to run into lately are guys who are dating someone else and either fail to mention it, not really care that they are dating someone and hit on me anyway, or tell me they're dating someone but it's not working out. great. JUST what i need. there needs to be rules on "WEing". be considerate. please. "WE" when appropriate and save some poor girl the trauma of making a fool of herself.

humiliation a la email

i got an email forward from a friend the other day. before i describe the email and how i managed to completely humiliate myself, let me explain the dynamics of this particular friendship. this guy lives on the east coast and i met him when i was out visiting another friend a couple of years ago. we hit it off, hooked up, and have continued to keep in touch. he sent me flowers on my birthday, came to visit last march, and we still talk and flirt, but nothing will ever come of it. ok, that said, i got an email forward from him the other day.

as soon as i saw it, i immediately thought that it might be a good topic for my blog. the email was a forwarded link to a "crush calculator." now, coming from this guy, i was a little surprised to get this kind of email, but no matter. i clicked on the link and landed on a page that gushed about how the crush calculator could determine whether or not someone was your true love, soulmate, blah, blah, blah. i rubbed my palms together with wicked anticipation, ready to completely defy this asinine idea of simply putting your name and someone else's name in a weblink and hitting "go!" to find out who your true soulmate is. the possibilities for ripping this thing to shreds on my blog were endless. i cackled with an evil satisfaction of finding yet another dating mechanism to tear apart. (see previous rants regarding online dating, kizmeet, blind dates, picking up men at church, etc.)

i folllowed the simple instructions: your full name. check. the names of up to 3 "crushes." hmmm.... let's really make this thing wonder... we'll choose the gay friend, the boy who never called, and the ex. none of these would ever result in my eternal happiness (well, the gay friend could except for that whole sex thing), so i couldn't wait to see what the all-knowing oz of the crush calculator would say about these guys. i typed in the three names and clicked enter.

to my horror, a screen popped up and said something to the effect of, "the joke's on you! your name and the names of the people you entered have been sent to: (insert name of person who had forwarded email)" i almost died. not that it matters that my friend got those names back, but come on... when it's a "friend" you've hooked up with and still have a flirtation with, do you really want to send them the names of 3 guys you actually put into a crush calculator?!

so, tail between my legs, i sent my friend an email that was all, "ha ha, very funny! did you, um, actually get an email back? because you know i was just testing this thing out so i could make fun of it on my blog...." to which i get a response like "yeah, got the email back and you listed x,y, and z. suuuuuure you did it for the blog! of all the people i sent that to, you're the only one who did it. ha ha!"

christ. fuck. ugh. how embarrassing. but it really WAS for the blog! and now the friend thinks i have a) a secret crush on my gay friend, b) the pathetic hope that dude will still call and c) that i want to get back together with the ex. no bueno.

consolation dating

we've all been in this situation. you go out with a friend and you're sitting at the bar sipping (chugging) wine, having a serious conversation when two guys approach. they order shots and ask if you ladies would like to do one with them. never ones to turn down free alcohol, the two of you politely accept, shoot, and thank. they end up sitting down and spending the rest of the evening chatting (drinking) away with you both. great. except for the fact that one guy is really cute and the other is, well, not so much. cute guy inevitably likes your friend and you end up hanging out with the sidekick all night. which is totally fine. that's all in the friendship code of wingman behavior. but - and you know this moment is coming - eventually sidekick asks for your number, wants to take you out, etc. and what do you do?

i compare it to being given a consolation prize in a game or contest. the prize isn't something you want, it's not really something you'll use, but you can't trade it in for anything better. so, you take the prize, knowing that after this moment is over, you'll put it away and not really have any desire to see it again. that's not to say that the prize is grotesque, inappropriate, or mangy, it just isn't something that you can really find a use for.

so when it comes to consolation dating, what do you do? do you lie and say you're dating someone? do you give your number and then just avoid his calls until he gets the hint? (aka the same behavior the entire female population detests in men) do you just answer the phone and give him some lame excuse? (i.e. the not really dating right now, just got out of a relationship, not looking for anything, focusing on my career, i have 14 children with 6 different men thing?) do you politely explain that you were hammered, trying to be a good sport to help your friend snag the cute one, and you were really just being a bit of an attention whore and have no intention of actually going out with him? or do you go out with him once, just to see how it goes, even though you aren't interested? (and therefore waste a perfectly good evening trying not to look at your watch, formulating an excuse in your head as to why you need to go home early, and then breaking into a full-fledged sprint when your apartment building is in sight so that he can't walk you to the door and try to lick your face)

is this my lot in life - consolation dating? spending the rest of my years giving out my number to guys i'm not interested in, hoping they won't call? doesn't that negate the entire purpose of the dating game? if i'm never going to win the grand prize, i think i'll just quit. i don't need a consolation prize, thank you very much.

i blog therefore i am....

lately i've had some serious blogger block and haven't come up with the best ideas about which to write. (see past posts about spoiled yogurt and stomach flu) so today, i racked my brain trying to come up with something funny/witty/relatable/endearing/touching/that doesn't completely suck ass to write about. here were my options:

- procrastination

self: too late. adam beat us to it and wrote about his own procrastination habits.

- drinking/hangovers

self: can we write about something new, please god?

- disappointing men and totally misreading situations where a guy seems interested but clearly isn't after you tell him you'd like to meet him for a drink and he doesn't respond

self: again, can we please write about something new?!

- the holidays

self: everyone is sick of the holidays already

- avoiding the gym

self: um, you and everyone else. be original. jeez.

- the book i just finished that had me sobbing like a baby

self: wow. cheerful. no.

- how annoyed i'll be if my back-to-back episodes of felicity aren't on AGAIN this saturday morning. ugh.

self: you have a very unhealthy obsession with this felicity person who, by the way, doesn't actually exist.

- perusing the strange oddities that certain online stores have in their sex toy department, causing me to giggle like a 12-year-old while secretly wondering if i can justify spending $80 for a device that could quite possibly make me happier than any man has so far.

self: waaaaaay too much information. no one needs to know about that.

- my stupid mail carrier who likes to just throw the mail for all 7 units in my building on top of the mailbox rather than sorting and putting the mail in the correct boxes.

self: god. are you that bitter about having nothing in your box? hee hee.


so, as you can see, i've got nothin. nothing exciting, no weird happenings, absolutely no good insight on men, no earthshattering news to report.

maybe i'll get accosted by a homeless person, splashed with muddy water by a passing bus, hit on a gorgeous guy only to be introduced to his equally gorgeous boyfriend, go to work and realize there are panties static-clinged to the back of my sweater, or give myself food poisoning with my own cooking. until then, i guess i'll just have to be normal and uneventful. how boring.

self: sounds like peace on earth to me.