Thursday, July 31, 2003
There's a couple of things I have to get off my chest.
First off, I just can't wait for this Pope to keel over. Before I was confirmed when I was 15, I sat down with the woman conducting my Catechism classes and asked her if homosexuals were accepted by the catholic church. I told her that I had huge issues with committing to a religion that doesn't accept everyone (my mom gave me the "Free to Be You and Me" album as a child, so I was quite worldly for little ole Sheboygan, WI). And she told me that the catholic church welcomes homosexuals, but does not accept the actual act of gay sex. And at the age of 15, I guess I could accept that. But now, it just seems barbaric to me. It's one of those things that I feel we'll look back on in 200 years and be like, "What the hell was the big deal?"
:: burns in hell ::
Secondly, I felt so terrible for the father yesterday that sat in that press conference room waiting to be reunited with his daughter. Apparently, the woman who falsely claimed to be the missing daughter likes impersonating long lost children. It's bad enough he lost her, and then to see him cry for her....people are just cruel.
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Oh, I forgot to tell you guys, last night I got stuck in the elevator (the first of many times, I'm sure). It wasn't a mechanical error as much as a human error. I was carrying up my stereo and speakers from my car, and the cord must of gotten stuck on the outside of the door. So, the door closes, I hit "4" and all of a sudden the cord is stuck, causing the elevator to completely stop, and my stereo to drop to my feet. I was in between floors, and all of a sudden feared that I'd be stuck in there until the next morning, because a) it was after hours and b) because I couldn't get the door on the floor below me (which I could barely reach) to open. I rang the emergency bell 3 times before some poor soul came out to see what was going on. He eventually walked me through how to get out---by hitting the ground floor button to bring me back down to safety. I thanked him about a billion times. Stupid crappy stereo. He said, "That cord stopped the elevator?" I wanted to say, "Yeah, as you can see, this elevator was probably one of the original elevators from 1892, so it probably doesn't take much." I'm surprised monkeys aren't raising and lowering the cables, it's that old. Oh well, it has charm.
Ok, so I just changed my whole commenting system. My other one, needless to say, completely sucked, and by the power of Greyskull, I changed it. Yay me.
I get stuck in traffic on a daily basis now. Sometimes your eye wanders over to who is in the car next to you. It might be an incredibly large woman in a Geo Metro (why is that?), or once I saw a van full of hispanic cooks, probably on their way to work. But every now and then you play a cat and mouse game of car flirting with some cute guy in the car next to you. No names, numbers exchanged, just a bit of an ego boost on your way home from work. Last night, the back and forth pace of traffic lanes was so frequent that it became funny when I saw him again. I thought the guy was going to get into an accident because he was looking at me to see if I was looking at him, instead of him watching the road and the car in front of him. And then I got off at the Harlem exit and that was the end of our 20 minute relationship. They come and go. Even in cars.
I just got news that I might be going to the 1:20 Cubs game today for work. Nice.
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
Nothin' like a good heart attack to end your day. I hate tight deadlines.
I got my dad hooked on "American Chopper," and my mom hooked on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy." As their only daughter, I feel compelled to tell them about quality programming on television, so they don't sit at home and wither away to "Matlock." It's my duty. However, no matter how comfortable I ever become talking with my mom and sex, I can never, ever watch "Sex and the City" with her. A girl's gotta draw the line somewhere. If I laugh at certain things, she might think I've done it, and I just can't have that.
In other news....not much is happenin'. There's a pottery place near my apartment that you can paint your own pottery. At first, I was all excited thinking I'd be able to throw my own, but no. Looks like on some rainy Saturday, I'll be painting my own coffee mug. Not as cool, but it'll do for now.
Seriously, how many times can my comments go down? Poo.
Monday, July 28, 2003
Dear Sir or Madam:
I am writing to contest the violation notice I received on July 23, 2003. I received the violation for parking in a “No parking during 7 – 9 AM (rush hour)” section of the road. When I originally parked my vehicle in that spot, I did not see the parking restriction sign (lie), as there was a large, white shipping truck parked in front of me that blocked my view of the sign (another lie). I just moved to the Chicago area from Michigan (another lie), (see lease enclosed) and did not know the parking rules of “rush hour” parking (yeah, I knew, another lie). I received the ticket at 7:21 A.M., and I had left for work and moved my car by 7:30 A.M (the truth). I sincerely apologize, and can reassure you it will not happen again (whatever, it'll probably happen again next week).
Thank you for your time.
Violation notice #: blah blah blah
I don't want to pay $50 for a stupid ticket. My friend, Jayme, says that if you contest it, they'll most likely drop it. Fuckers.
So, we moved all of my stuff this weekend. If I never see a box ever again it will be too soon. I gotta tell ya, I have the greatest family ever. My parents came down to help me with the move (I absolutely HATE asking any of my friends to help) and helped me put stuff away, etc. The movers could fit almost everything into the tiny elevator, except my couch. That, they had to carry up 4 flights of stairs. Ow. I felt guilty, but I guess that's what we pay them for. I do not understand ANY ONE that wants to be a mover for a living.
The rest of my weekend was pretty low key, other than checking out all that Oak Park has to offer. I don't have cable, so I missed Sex and the City. :: crying :: Anyone want to fill me in? I've been reading others blogs and kinda get the jist that Harry proposed?! Berger and Carrie broke up? Wha?
Saturday, July 26, 2003
Yay! I think comments are back up. Feel free to comment on anything said in the past week. I can take it. Especially about the NYC comments. Bring it on. I will not feel sorry. You hear that NYC?!?!
All my furniture comes tomorrow!!!
My friend, Chris, got a part in the movie, Mr. 3000, with Bernie Mac as the lead character, Stan. Chris is "reporter #1." I'm so proud of him. :) It's filming right now, and I hope his part doesn't get cut. I'd freak out if I saw him on the big screen. He's so fucking funny. He's married to my old roommate from college, Erin, (i was in their wedding, and can pride myself in the reason they finally got together) and I was always his #1 fan. Not in the Kathy Bates "Misery" style, though.
Friday, July 25, 2003
Last night was my first night in my new apartment. All I brought with me were clothes, an air mattress, sheets, a 6-pack of Rolling Rock, a Leinenkugel's bottle opener/magnet, and my Instyle Magazine. What else does a girl want? Oh, that's right. HBO. That comes a week from tomorrow. An entire week without cable. I seriously don't know what I'm gonna do with myself. Yes, I am that bad. I blame it on being raised in the 80s.
Sorry that comments have been down all week. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm not a happy camper.
Thursday, July 24, 2003
So a couple of months ago, a friend in Detroit told me about this website called "Friendster," which is old news, so I'm not going to go on about what it is. See for yourself at http://www.friendster.com. Anyway, it sounds like a lame name for a website, this I know. Nothing makes you sound more like a loser than when you sign up for a site called "Friendster." But I digress.
Anyway, I haven't logged in a while. Last time I checked, there were 53 people in my 'personal network.' Now, there's 1196. 1196 other total Friendster turds like me. I know really it's to find out if there is only 6 degrees to Kevin Bacon.
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
And another thing...
I know I'm late on this, but I just watched a rerun of Sex and the city last night (of sunday's episode), and I must say Miranda's looking pretty good lately. Again, nice new little 'do she's got going on. My heart hurts for the girl. Carrie's a really good friend to her...when Miranda was putting the frosting on the cookies for Steve's new girlfriend and Carrie walked her through putting the frosting down and leaving. Good friend right there. My friend, Erin, didn't want to watch it with me for fear of 'becoming hooked.' That's not the first time I've heard that. What's with you, people?! Don't they realize if ya have HBO, that's what ya have it for?! Don't waste it. There are many starving young 20-somethings out there without HBO that would KILL to watch that show. And here she is, just pouring it down the drain. :: insert melodramatic sigh here ::
A little stressed out at the moment. Just stuff to do with moving....I have movers coming on Saturday, but am still waiting for my old landlord/HR references to get back to the rental company so I can move into this place. Grrrrr! I am fighting the urge to say 'This is just my luck,' (hey, look at that, i just did) because I know nothing really goes that smoothly for anyone, and none of you asked for any whine with your cheese today, so I'll knock it off.
Did I mention I also got a $50 parking ticket today? Yeah. Burn your cars. I'm sure there's some ticket for doing that, though, too.
Mmm....other than that I think I'm heading to Atlanta in a couple of weeks for work. No offense to southern readers (wait, you guys can READ?! hahaha, thanks, I'll be here all week), but I heard a woman on the phone today who could literally make two syllables out of the word "I." That's how SLOW she talked.
:: head explodes ::
Monday, July 21, 2003
Since I'm still living downtown, it took me an hour and a half to get to work today. Luckily, I'll be moving soon, so that commute will be cut down to 45 or so minutes. Not great, but do-able. Maybe I'm just used to living in Detroit, but I gotta say the roads are a billion times better here in Chicago, so that commute feels like floating on air compared to the potholes the size of Lake Michigan in Detroit. I also recently read that Chicago is the 3rd worst driving city in the nation, behind LA and San Francisco (I think was #2). For you New Yorkers out there, you ranked at #8, so there. You're not #1 at something. :: sticks tounge out ::....oh wait, I don't want to be #1 on this list....dammit. Foiled again. I gotta say that all the propaganda the rest of the country is fed about how great and wonderful NY is can get a little overwhelming. It's kinda like Mac users who constantly shove down PCers throats about how stupid they are for using a PC, (even if their company forces them to)... that's how (in my experience) NYers are for anyone else that DARES live in a different city. And before any reader from NY gets all pissy at me, please know that I really do like NY. That's what it would read on MY bumpersticker/tshirt. Somebody patent that for me! ;)
Sunday, July 20, 2003
On Friday, I hit the pavement and started looking for places to live. I'm gonna be working in the burbs, so I decided to find a place in Oak Park, which is right next to Chicago (9 miles from downtown---take a train in like everywhere else), and I have a few friends from Marquette (where I went to college, incase you haven't figured that one out) that live there. It's a really nice city. Famous architect, Frank Lloyd Wright lived and worked here and was the birthplace of Ernest Hemingway. They also did a "While you were Out" episode on TLC where the husband went to Frank Lloyd Wright's home and studied his work while his wife transformed their bedroom into a very similar style. Some fun facts for you. Including the fun fact that I watch too much TV.
I got a sheet of listings within my price range, scanned it and saw a 1-bedroom "all utilities included" with the landlord's name of "Dragan." When I first saw his name, I'm like, "This guy is totally gonna ask me to play a game with a 12-sided di....." Then I called and realized he's just foreign. ;) Very cute 1 bedroom, and everything in it's new. So new, that the oven and stove won't get there until Wed., and a guy was there working on the tile floors (the entrance is tiled) today. There's new light (maple?) wood cabinets and they're putting in new windows. It's a 'vintage' apartment, (like everything is around here practically) and has a nice courtyard and lobby, and there's an elevator (hard to find in these older apartments), which is nice since i'll live on the top (4th) floor. But it's one of those kinda creepy elevators with the grates that you have to shut first. Gah, I just know I'm gonna get stuck in it. But, an elevator's an elevator. I think I'm really gonna like it. Dragan said to me today, "I see you in your apartment....you will be very happy here." Um, creepy. You do not "see" me in my apartment, and if you do, I'm sure that's illegal, Mr. Dragan....
At any rate, it was a huge relief...he's not charging me for the rest of July either. He probably thinks I'll work it off with the hidden camaras he's going to hide in the sconces, isn't he? ISN'T HE? ;)
I have a new home. A fresh start. Yay.
Friday, July 18, 2003
I love The Onion.
Up until a week ago, I was so this person.
Thursday, July 17, 2003
So, I'm having that not-so-fresh feeling of wanting to puke and being excited at the same time. It's kinda like this:
:: bleuggggh :: Yay! :: bleeughhh :: Wooo! I'm currently waiting to hear if they'll accept my negotiation offer for more money. I listed reasons why I think I deserve it and what I can bring to their table for it. Let's just hope it comes through. And then I'm off to do about 1 billion things today. If it doesn't...well, I'll take it like a trooper.
You guys, I'm going to attempt to re-dye my hair today. When I told my mom on the phone, she suggested I wear goggles. Anxious much, mom? I am so my mother's daughter. Which brings me to one of my most nerdy/awkward/embarrassing stories of being a child. We all have them, no need to be ashamed.
When I was in 3rd grade, I was at Camp Y-Koda (YMCA camp) and they took us on this rafting trip (down the Sheboygan River---I'm sure it compares to the same rocky rivers of Colorado...heh). Anyway, I wore glasses as a kid and decided to tuck my glasses into my shirt. Well, needless to say, as I was floating down in a black intertube, they fell off. And somewhere a brownish (yes, BROWN) pair of glasses are sitting at the bottom of that river. Here's the nerdy part: I was so anxious and nervous about losing them that i wore a chain, yes, A CHAIN (like grannies wear on their glasses) for all of 4th grade. I didn't know if I was afraid they'd go flying off my head while sitting in math class or what, but I faithfully wore that chain for a year afterwards. I'll try to find a picture of me from then and post it. Maybe.
And now, I'm going to bravely march into my bathroom and dye my hair. Sans goggles. I will not be afraid. ;)
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
Ok, so I got a job (see post below incase you don't scan).
But who cares about that, when we have my new favorite TV show on Bravo, "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" to talk about? I LOVED it. I want the Fav 5 to come to my future apartment and decorate for me! I hope this show just takes off, because it's fucking HILARIOUS and smart. And oh my god, are NYC apartments small. I mean, i knew, but i didn't KNOW. And Butch, the straight guy? Union Jack girl TOTALLY wanted him. With his cute new haircut he won't have to use those tissues much longer. I wanted him...yowza. Why do I notice myself writing like how one of the Fav 5 talk right now? I. can't. stop. It's just....super.
Girl: (looking at self portrait of Butch on his t-shirt) "Is that a lion's ass?"
Butch: "No, that's my face."
ooo...goodie. Another episode is on right now. I think I'm getting in touch with my inner gay man.
Woah. A lot has happened since I last wrote. I had a second interview at 11 this morning and by 2:30 this afternoon, there was an offer on the table. And I actually WANT this job. So, the next few days are going to be spent apartment hunting (for a 1-bedroom permanent residence...YAY!), and getting my furniture that I couldn't bring with me that's currently sitting in half of my parent's garage in Wisconsin (bless 'em for putting up with that for almost 2 1/2 months). They wanted me to start on Thursday, and that just ain't happening. So, Monday it's going to have to be. I'm super excited, you guys. I'm employed again. Uncle Sam, take 1 off the unemployed list.
It's kinda pathetic, but I'm gonna miss my bartending job. I'll have to raise a glass tomorrow night to all my regulars there...Ann (the 39 year old grandmother), Mac (the 60-something guy who always comes in around 12:30 and talks endlessly about gambling), Rhino (the guy who lives conveniently above the bar), Carol, (who had the thickest Midwestern accent ever and brought her whole family in on the 4th of July, including babies...."You have a baby...in a bar.",) Tom, the one-legged owner, who just wanted me to take my shirt off to improve business, and countless other alcoholics. I shall miss you all, and remember you fondly, and will probably see you in a couple of weekends.
I'm gonna have benefits again! So I can spray as much hair dye in my eye as I want to!!! Woop! A 401K!!!
Monday, July 14, 2003
A huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders today, probably in more ways than one. Today, just a little after 5 pm, the gentleman from the agency called me to offer me the position. I know that I'm going to turn it down for sure, and I feel ok with this decision I'm about to make. Many might think of me as crazy, and maybe I am. "What? You're being offered a position during this tough economic time and you're TURNING IT DOWN?!" It just wasn't right in my gut. I feel confident that something better suited to me is going to come my way soon, something I will feel proud to work on. I'm just hoping it comes within the next month, or some other decisions will have to be made...specifically about the city in which I live. No helmut, no pads...just balls.
Sunday, July 13, 2003
Ah, le weekend. Everything's prettier when pronounced in French. Even Detroit.
Thursday, I drove to St. Joseph, MI, and met up with my parents to go to a family friend's wedding. We went to a restaurant/winery called Tabor Hill, which produces my favorite wine (Classic Demi-Sec). I'm not a wineo, I'm a wine-yes. Ba dum bum. And with that, I'm fired. At any rate, I don't know if it was the wine, the warm weather, the fact that it was a full moon or what, but my family finally supported my decision to turn down that job offer (which he called about on Friday...I have to call him back tomorrow and am sick to my stomach thinking about it). My mom just said that I better impressed the, and I believe the term she used was, jageebus (latin for "the fuck out of") the other interviews I have coming up. I have a second interview on Tues. Wish me luck, I'm feeling the butterflies going. It probably isn't helping that I'm reading articles of other poor saps who are unemployed, but are only getting 1 interview every 4 months. I think I've had close to 15 since I've quit. Gotta stay positive.
There actually WAS a cute usher at the wedding. I asked the bride's sister (who's also single), "Who's that guy?" And she said, "I've been all over that." She offered some friendly competition, which I am so not down with, so I backed off. Later, during the reception, he came over to talk to me and within 5 minutes she walked over to us to ask, "So, what are you guys talking about?" Why don't you just pee all over him to mark your territory already? I got up and left (politely, of course).
I had a hard time sleeping the night before the wedding. I'm not sure why...maybe it was my conscience. At any rate, I sat awake for almost 2 hours trying to remember a very common reading during Catholic wedding ceremonies. Believe me, I'm no faithful Catholic, but sometimes you hear things that just hit you over the head. I thought I'd write it down here just incase I ever get the urge to do something stupid.
Love is kind,
it is not jealous,
love does not boast,
it is not inflated.
It is not discourteous,
it is not selfish,
it is not irritable,
it does not enumerate the evil.
It does not rejoice over the wrong, but rejoices in the truth
It covers all things,
it has faith for all things,
it hopes in all things,
it endures in all things.
Without getting too deep or dark, I figure if I ever want to experience love the way it's meant to be and the way I deserve, I should remember this. I had another dream about a terrible tornado (that included snow) in the middle of July that I was trying to fight to get out of. I'm sure no one will probably comment to this bizzare post, but my point is that heartache is a bitch. I'd give my left arm to stop feeling like this.
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
So, I have an interview tomorrow at 8 am, which is sucky that it's that early. Wish me luck. Also, that guy (from the job I DON'T want) called me today (i'm totally screening my calls) to give me an update with where they are on their decision. He wanted me to not worry that I didn't interview well with their client or anything like that, but i think it's more of a making sure we have the budget and shit to really make this happen. And then I'm gonna be like, "Sorry." And he's gonna all be like, "Wha?" And I'm gonna all be like, "Talk to the hand." And then he'll start crying.
Tomorrow at noon, I'm heading out to St. Joseph, MI, to a family friend's wedding. Now, weddings in small towns are real iffy. In big cities, there's guaranteed to be older, (like in their late 20s/early 30s) single guys. However, when you venture into small town territory, everyone's married by like, 18, and there's no one to talk to except the bride's sisters and Uncle Morey. Let's pray FOR THE LOVE OF GOD that there's at least a couple of cute, single men there. A girl's gotta have at least a couple to pick from. I'll even take an usher.
So, I'll be back on Sunday. Woop! Have good weekends.
Today, the movie "Say Anthing" was on HBO, so I plunkered down to watch it. I was already all emotional over the movie, so when I came back to the computer, I had received an IM from a former friend of mine (Kristin) in Detroit. Right before I left Detroit, I was going through a pretty rough time, and I wasn't the greatest friend in the world. Without a doubt, I will admit to this. So, in an email, (mind you, she was one of my 2 closest friends in Detroit) she tells me that she no longer wants to be friends with me, blah, blah, blah. She didn't even give me a chance to apologize or explain myself, which I tried to do. She said, "Since you moved away, I don't see a point in trying to salvage our friendship." I didn't argue with her, but I did apologize, and told her I wish things could've been different. It was one of my biggest regrets leaving Detroit is that I couldn't have remained friends with her.
So, she IMs me today and says, "I know we're not really talking anymore, (no, YOU'RE the one who decided you didn't want to talk to me anymore) but I thought you might want to know that we saw Jack White and Renee Zellweger at the Magic Stick and she was doing quite a bit of coke and then bought $3K worth of art from the C-Pop gallery. I just thought you'd want to know..." When I tried to IM her back, she was already offline.
I don't know if any of you have ever gone through it, but "breaking up" with a really close friend is almost worst than breaking up with any boy. I started crying and it just made me feel like shit all over again. Either talk to me or don't talk to me, but don't just waltz into my life again and then basically remind me that we're still not talking.
Tuesday, July 08, 2003
For all practical purposes, it probably isn't a smart idea to publish a blog using your full name. So, let's start again. Much of it is going to look and feel the same, so don't you worry. Oh, you don't like the current design? You want to redesign it FOR me? Oh, you can't be serious. You are?! You are just too, too kind. ;)