Happy birthday shoutout to Danimal! You son of a gun.

You know what doesn't go together? BBQ leftovers and a pilates class. I think I'm gonna be sick.

There might be a clip of me floating on the internet somewhere of me singing to my entire company during our company summer party. Afterwards, one of the VP's came up to me and said, "Great singing voice!" You bet your ass, sweet tits. I mean, thank you.

Not only that, but I also won "Closest to the Pin" in golf that day and won a $100 gift certificate to use in the pro shop. Too bad they gave me said gift certificate at 6:30 PM, and the shop closed at 6...it's not like I'm going to make it up to Lake Geneva again anytime soon. Eh, maybe I'll just sell it on Ebay for $50.

More condo searching went on this weekend. It's kind of a long story, but I was a little bit disheartened after yesterday's 6-hour condo search -- so much so that I wasn't really looking forward to going out and looking again today. So I was thankful when my friend called and asked me to see The Simpson's movie. Amusing, but not laugh-a-minute or anything. Afterwards, we got some BBQ at Smoke Daddy's in Wicker Park and then some gelato. I had mango and peach and discovered when you eat both of them together....it kinda tastes like sushi. Weird.

Tomorrow, I'll be in Lake Geneva, WI, for an all-company summer outing. They are making all the 1st year Rookies "Sing for their Supper," so you best believe that my karaoke talents will be broadcasted in front of the entire agency. Thank god I am so awesome at singing. They split us into teams and a copywriter on my team wrote lyrics to the tune of Fergie's "Glamourous." However, this version is called "Unglamourous." After about 7 gin and tonics, I hope my voice doesn't go.

Fell in love with a condo last night which had sweeping lake and city views, which ended with a quick THUD once I realized that my car is preventing me from living there. My parents will laugh at this, but my realtor actually said to me, "So you're an only child? You don't seem spoiled. I'm surprised your parents aren't buying your condo for you."

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Yeah, why AREN'T they buying my condo for me? She must deal with trust fund babies, and must've misheard me when I told her I'm from Wisconsin. My trust fund comes exclusively in the form of Packers memorablia. Will the lender accept this cheesehead necktie?

Tomorrow night, my realtor and I are finally meeting. We're going to look at a few floor plans of a high rise downtown, which could possibly offer some nice views of the city and the lake. But before I get too excited, I need to remember that if I were to move there, they would want $31,000 to buy a parking space (I wish I was joking), so basically I would have to sell my car if I were to live there. My other options are to rent a spot across the street, but it means I would have to move my car by 7 AM every day. I can't exactly imagine being too excited to do that everyday. So, we're looking at other options around the city on Saturday, which won't charge and arm and a leg to park my car that I barely use anymore, anyway.

In other news, Wally is still fat and cute. And he's been trying to call you.

Ok, so who knew Vh1's "Scott Baio is 45 and Single" would be such a great show?

So last night's date went okay. He kind of smelled like an old man, even though he's only 28. Weird. I don't know what kind of soap that is, but they should stop making it. Another thing that was weird is that we met the Nobel Prize Winner of Economics at the Huettenbar. I guess even Nobel winners need a good beer every now and again?

Okay, so, the past couple times J.K. Rowling has launched a Harry Potter book, the village of Oak Park hosts the "Countdown to Midnight Book Release Festival." Usually these type of conventions are limited to a conference room at the Holiday Inn, but the entire city transformed itself into Nerdland. I promised myself I wouldn't be too mean spirited about this, because there are kids in these photos, so I'll just let the pictures speak for themselves.





Wizards smoke?



They love eating ice cream while wearing capes?



They need Vitamin Water?

I'm not sure why I care that Victoria Beckham's coming to America, but I do.

Tonight, The Rockers are having an iPod party at their place where each guest gets to play whatever the hell they want for a half an hour (or so) and subject their guests to it. So, a half an hour of Yanni it is! I keeeed. Should be fun!

Tomorrow, I will be shopping for a new outfit, applying self tanner, and squeezing myself into various body shapers because I have a first date I'm going on. Yes, it's true. I would tell you the restaurant, but then all 7 of you might actually show up to give me pointers and I can't be havin' that. The interesting thing is that he also has terrible dating stories, which could be a welcome addition for the book. For instance, he gave online dating a go and one woman who had contacted him told him she was afraid of taking her seizure medication because she was PREGNANT.

Good times. We'll see how it goes.

You know when someone at work you don't really know has this laugh that at first you think is really cute, but then you finally meet them, discover they have a heinous personality, and then that once cute laugh turns into the most vile cackle?

Yeah.

Feeling uninspired this week. Thought some French Toast ice cream at Cold Stone would cure it, but nope.

I officially have a realtor now and I'm going to start looking at places with her this Friday. All I know is, I want a plasma TV thrown into the deal. Oh, and help with my closing costs. And possibly parking thrown in. And maybe 10% knocked off the asking price. That's not too much to ask, right? I kid, I kid.

While waiting for a meeting to begin this past week at work, this was an actual conversation:

Me: "So, "ginormous" is now actually in Webster's dictonary."
Kelly: "Yeah, I heard!"
Liz: "Really?!"
Me: "As is 'crunk.'"
Liz: "What is 'crunk?'"

We all looked blankly at the other to be the authority on crunk. Finally, Kelly speaks up.

Kelly: "I think it's a style of dance."
Liz: "Doesn't it mean crazy drunk?"
Me: "I always thought it was a drink, like a type of moonshine."
Kelly: "I'm pretty sure it's a style of dance that is associated with rap."
Liz (getting more adament): "I ALWAYS thought it meant crazy drunk."

This went on for another 5 minutes.

Finally, Walter, a white guy in his late 40s walks into the room.

Liz: "Walter, what does 'crunk' mean?"
Walter: :: starts laughing :: "Crunk....crunk...uh...."
Liz: "Doesn't it mean crazy drunk?"
Walter: "Uh, I really don't know."

Besides obviously realizing how terribly Caucasian we all were, it's also worth noting that I GET PAID FOR THIS.

Also, incase you were wondering (sadly, I had to Wikipedia this shit) but crunk is a type of hip hop music, but traditionally meant a "harsh, hoarse cry." The term is used in slang often to mean "intoxicated." There you go.

Ugh.

It's a GORGEOUS day in Chicago and I would totally wear a skirt today, if it wasn't for all the bruises all over my body caused by the Cyclone and The Break Dance at Coney Island. I should really just shut up and be thankful I made it out of Coney Island alive, really.

Here's a photo of Thode and I eating Nathan's Cheese Fries on the pier at Coney Island, taken with her friend's iPhone. I am the ketchup holder. Ye holder of ketchup. This was taken before riding the abusive carnie rides.

My landlord sent me a letter yesterday stating that they need to know within 7 days if I'm planning on renewing my lease or not. Reality is setting in that I need to get serious, get a realtor, and figure out where the hell I'm going to live at the end of September. After hyperventalating for the past 24 hours, I decided to take a look online tonight to see what's currently available in the city in the price range I'm hoping to buy. After seeing prices drop over the past 6 mos., I'm feeling much more confident that there are places out there that I can afford and actually WANT to live in. Ok, I'm calming down now.

Megan's Dream Website

I wish there was a website that I could type in what I have in my cupboards, like,

- Enchilada sauce
- A can of pink salmon
- Farfalle pasta
- Condensed milk

and it would spew out a recipe. I'm realizing the verb 'spew' and those ingredients listed above is pretty much all I would do if there were a recipe that included all of those ingredients...

It is currently pouring outside and I can barely see the other buildings around mine. I love this.

As long as it stops by about 5:15 PM or so.

A few photos and stories from the past few days in NYC...



This is a photo of the hardest working part-time bartender in NYC, everybody.

One or two nights a week, Thode bartends at this place in Manhattan. Since its one of the tinest bars in NYC (literally), you get to know everyone in the bar pretty quickly. On Thursday night, three couples came in together, which quickly crowded the bar. All three of the women were pretty drunk, and at one point, they went into the bathroom together. Annoyed, Thode loudly announced, "One at a time, ladies!" The next thing I know, the bathroom door swings open and a couple of the women are standing there, half dressed. Eventually, they collected themselves and headed outside for a smoke. A few minutes later, one of the regulars came in and told us that one of the women had face planted herself on the sidewalk grates. It turns out she took a valium and that, apparently, doesn't mix so well with tequila shots. The others quickly ushered her inside and sat her down. Thode gave them all the option that either she calls an ambulance or they leave. They don't leave, and Train Wreck (that's her new nickname) ends up puking all over the floor. The bar is so small that it quickly starts to smell everywhere, and Thode gets out a mop and a bucket. Train Wreck is an absolute mess, and by that point I had had enough and told them all to "Get the FUCK out." One of the women actually said, "We're leavin', and I would be just as mad at us if I were you, so we'll get the fuck out." At least we all agreed on something.

After all of that, Thode was tipped $9 on a $71 bill. Ugh.



Coney Island Fireworks. We rode the Cyclone and this ride called The Break Dance. I loved it and have the bruises to prove it.



Ooooo....Ahhhhhh.....



We ended up going to the Coney Island Burlesque show on Friday night. Guess who had to go on this stage and won pasties with tassles in front of everyone? They made a really cute yarmulke/fez on Thode's dog, Punk.



I had my first Nathan's hotdog while there. Mmmmm... I had one, not 66 like Joey Chestnut did.



We went up on Thode's roof and took some photos of the city.



The Statue of Liberty in the distance from her roof.



Pretty city. Everyone we met was so nice (even the swingers/puker was pretty cordial).



This is what my hair looks like after I wake up from a nap in NYC. Refrain from commenting, please.



Contemplating....a new haircut.

Ok, I just conducted a phone interview where I heard someone peeing in the background.

Currently, I'm on another big Luna kick. Their "Best of" album is the best cure if you're ever feeling anxious. Besides Quaaludes, of course. Yeah, I'm still not sleeping very well. Last night, I went to a party at Thode's (boy)friend's (?) house, and around 1 AM I thought I should probably go home, but then part of me thought, "Why bother, I won't be able to sleep, anyway." Glug, glug!

It's been kind of cool weather-wise here, which is very nice. I would hate to disgust the pretty people of SoHo by *gasp* sweating in front of them. Seriously, I've never seen such pretty people in my life. Nor have I ever seen so many aviator sunglasses. But I digress.

I'm packed for Nueva York and ready to go for my 4:15 AM wake up call. Seriously, WHY do I put myself through these ridiculously early flights?

I packed a swimsuit, because as Thode says, "You just never know when a hot tub party might arise."

If I don't talk to you before then, Happy 4th of July!

Do NY street vendors sell corn on the cob? If not, they need to. I need my cob.

Today as I was leaving my apartment with Wally in his little pet carrier, pissed, the resident schizophrenic came into the lobby and asked in his weird gravely voice if he could see Wally. It's tramatic enough to make Wal leave his surroundings, and then he has to have a run in with Schizo "Pretty Girl" Phreic all up in his grill. Poor Wal. See ya in a couple of weeks, lil dude.

The guy I met on the train is leaving for vacation for a couple of weeks on Wed. And that's the end of that communicado. Eh, whatever.

Latest TV crush: Spencer Brown from Last Comic Standing. He just became my MySpace friend and left me a message. :: swoon ::

I'm back from Nashville, which is an interesting city that can't quite seem to make up its mind if it's the South or not. In my opinion, anything south of Chicago is "the South" to me, so what the hell do I know.

I'm heading to NYC for work this week to interview a few people for a position out there. I'm turning it into a half fun/half work trip, so I'll be staying in SoHo part of the time and Brooklyn with my friend, Thode, through the weekend. Selfishly, I'm glad she didn't get a job she was up for in LA next week so we can just hang all weekend. I'm hoping to see my NJ posse (BONE OUT, NEGROS) while I'm out there, as well. I've never been to NYC for the 4th of July, but I kind of imagine it's just like anywhere else but with more hotdogs. Wally is going to his "grandparents" house for a little summer vacation in Wisconsin. He doesn't know that in about an hour, he'll be all caged up in his carrier, which he hates. Poor fattie.