Ahh! I got it to work using Firefox. Stupid Safari. Goddamn fascist.

So here are photos from last night's Halloween party in Cicerooooo!



Teaching my friend, John, how to do the kissy face pose. Which I'm told I apparently I do in a LOT of photos.



Like here.



And here.



Oh, and here. God.



Here are the costume contest winners. I won "cutest costume," and Kelly in the center won the grand prize for her "Berwyn Car Kabob" costume, (which will probably only make sense to those who live in the Chicago area).



The hostess with the mostest.



Captain of the S.S. Gin and Tonic. Apparently I'm also a very big fan of the self portrait, too.

Ok, I'm sick of seeing my face in various stages of drunkenness, so let's move onto some condo photos -- these were taken before I closed, so the paint color is different and the carpeting is new from when these were taken. I only currently have photos of the kitchen and "great room" (which isn't that great at 13' x 15'), but hopefully will have some up of the other rooms once I'm done with them.







ta da!

Ok, despite a hangover, I made a special effort to get showered, dressed, and ran downstairs to the Starbucks to upload photos from last night's halloween party, condo pics, etc. and now Blogger is being a bitch and it isn't working.

Goddamn fascists.

Everyone in my building has a lock/passcode on their WiFi connections. Goddamn fascists.

Soooooooo boooooorrrrrrreeeed. :: hurls self over desk :: Ready for the weekend.

Friends of mine are throwing a haunted bus tour of Chicago tonight, where we pile into a bus and drive around the city while listening to scary tales of murder and ghost sightings at certain featured stops. Did I mention there's alcohol on the bus? You didn't think we would be doing this sober, did you?

Tomorrow night is the annual Halloween party in Cicerooooo! If I'm not hungover on Sunday, maybe I'll plan to download a billion photos this weekend and just do a big photo montage of my new place, halloween costumes, etc. We'll see.

Whenever either of my parents said, "we'll see" to me usually meant "not a chance in hell," but I will give it an honest go.

Just as I was about to get all whiney that I never meet anyone nice anymore, I get an email from a guy that I met at a wedding last weekend. Apparently, he tracked down how to get a hold of me through the groom, which is actually kind of impressive. He might be at the Halloween party I'm going to this weekend, in which case now I will be all self conscious in my stupid/lame sailor girl costume. I should've gone for the funny instead. Then again, that hasn't gotten me very far.

Unless you *want* to be ditched on the side of the road on the West Side warehouse district of Chicago, you'll go barhopping with Danimal. I did receive an apologetic text message on Saturday, but clearly homeboy needs to be schooled on barhopping etiquette.

In other news, I recently bought this media console. Well, actually, I bought it and my parents are giving it to me for Christmas. Merry early Christmas to me! Now I just need a new TV to sit on it.



Pretty.

Too bad it looks like some Viagra commercial is currently on sample TV.

I wasn't going to buy a Halloween costume this year and was just planning on recycling an old one, but how gauche. So now I ended up buying another stupid costume that I'll wear for a total of 4-5 hours and then it won't see the light of day ever again.



It is kinda cute, though.

Plus I can do my soft shoe rendition of "What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor?," which is a guaranteed party hit.

Ok, so I'm convinced Tyrone is some asshole friend of mine because he wrote me again on MySpace. This is comedic gold, people.

Subject: Hey White Ho

roni rone was all bouts 2 go see iron n wine but hes scurred dat his buick might git jacked by sum crazy white folk all jacked up on white folk drugs. yall kray-zay wit dem white folk drugs. whatchu thank? i donts wantsta hear u say "dont worry, its just a buick" cuz baby boo da buick be fly azz hell. i gots pics 2 check em out and holla at roni.

peace n hair grease.

p.s. u gots a twin? cuz den ud be a white chocolate kit kat bar

Oh, you're still here?

I'm sorry I've been ignoring you the past week. Truth is, I've decided to take a little break from setting up the internet in my new place. I thought it was an added distraction that was taking me away from getting out and, you know, living. And I hear blogging at work isn't the most effective use of my time, so I've pretty much cut it all out.

I'm barely even following Perez Hilton anymore and you KNOW that is tough for me. Stop laughing.

I will try to make a more of an effort to post more often and might consider setting up internet at my new place soon. I know for the males out there they can't imagine not having the internet set up. Where would they get their porn?

Ta,

Love, Megs

I'm a social person by nature and am the type who loves going out and meeting up with my friends. (This post is starting to sound like the beginning of an Exlax commercial "...and I don't let my diarrhea stop me!") Anyway, the problem is when you're that type of person and you go out when you're just a little bit sick, you tend to make things a whole lot worse. I stayed out til 4 on Saturday, felt like ass on Sunday, Monday (luckily we had off) and I'm just starting to work off the laryngitis where I don't sound like *so* much of a man anymore. One of these days I'll learn... :: reaches for a gin and tonic :: One of these days...

Yes! I got Betty Rocker and myself Dave Sedaris tickets for his show at Steppenwolf on January 13th!

My dad sent me an email yesterday asking if I had any interest in going to Table Fifty-Two, which is Chef Art Smith's (better known as Oprah's former personal chef) restaurant, in January. I just have this creepy feeling that The Oprah somehow beamed a message to all middle-aged mothers of America, telling them to go to this restaurant since there's no way my parents would have any inkling that this restaurant existed. Especially considering fine dining in my hometown of Sheboygan consists of an Applebee's. And we all know how Sheboyganites are jonesing to get an Olive Garden.

So, I tell my dad that I'd go, and then he sends me an email asking for me to make a reservation on October 9th because he tried calling Table Fifty-Two and found out they don't take reservations more than 3 months in advance. Since they're leaving for Europe on Saturday, he wants me to call while they're gone because they're afraid they won't get in. This really can't wait until you get back later this month?

Incase you were wondering, now you know where I get it from.

Tyrone strikes again!

From: Tyrone
Subject: mmmmmmmm....mmmmmmmm.... (for the record, gross)
Email:

"white chocolate. holla back atcha boy roni rone.

peace n hair grease,

roni rone"

I love that my new nickname has somehow become "white chocolate." If you are my MySpace friend, you can now see Tyrone for yourself. I might put him in my top 12.

My agency has off on Columbus Day. Which is this Monday, incase you didn't know. I know, I couldn't believe it, either.

So what to do with this holiday?

A) Force Wally to dress up in 15th century garb and pay homage to the man himself?
B) Do something productive, like, paint the walls or shop for new furniture?
C) Visit the offices of friends who are working with a bottle of Sapphire in one hand and tonic in the other?

Suggestions are welcomed and encouraged.

Last night, I brought my friend, Kelly, with me to the Genesis concert at the United Center for shits and giggles and since the tickets were free. We noticed that the price on the tickets were for $127 a piece (!), which I really can't imagine spending to see Phil Collins. I mean, I liked "Land of Confusion" as much as anyone else who may have been in a vegetative state in 1986, but $127? One woman on the radio said she spent $250 a ticket to go to the show, only to feel really dumb when she found out they were giving them away for free en masse on the radio.

Phil's not aging so well, either. He sounds exactly the same as he did in the 80s, which is kind of impressive considering he's 212 years old right now. There were people with CANES at his show. Kelly and I left after only an hour, which I felt bad about (sorry, Phil) and all of the ushers and one parking lot attendant asked, "Leaving already?!" We were hoping it was going to be more of his stuff from the '80s, but he played nearly all of his old jam-session songs from the '70s, which involved a lot of keyboards and jumbo screen fadeouts of 60-year-old men with beards jamming out.

Ok, so obviously I'm teasing. I'm glad I gave it a go and I can now cross Phil Collins off of my "Celebrities to see Before I (or they) Die." Genesis was my first tape ever, and it brought things full circle, about 21 years later.

I can't wait until Jay-Z comes back in 20 years for his "Old School" tour and some snot ass 30-year-old blogs (telepathically) about how there was some blonde bimbo with a cane boppin' away to "H to the Izzo," and how lame it all was.

An interesting but random gentleman named Tyrone recently emailed me via MySpace. I thought you would enjoy this exchange of pleasantries.

From: Tyrone
Subject: Hey baby gurl
Email: I been gettin wit lotsa sistahs lately but thinkin i wanna pull a sexy azz thick white mama. Why your profile private? Don't ya want no Tyrone love, baby?

I didn't respond, but MySpace indicates to Tyrone that I read his email.

From: Tyrone
Subject: hey boo
Email: ya didn't rite back. dont be scared of a thug. show tbone some love now.

peace n hair grease,

roni rone

Laughing hysterically and showing my friends his email, I decide to respond.

From: Megan
Subject: re: hey boo
Email: I'm convinced this is one of my bonehead friends playin' a prank on me. Hilarious and bravo. Keep on keepin' on, Tyrone.

From: Tyrone
Subject: re: re: hey boo
Email: baby gurl i just be lookin to break roni rone off a piece of dat white chocolate. holla

Holla, Tyrone!

So, my office is giving away 2 free tickets to tonight's Genesis "Turn It On Again" tour. Answer this question, and win a date with me to the most anticipated concert tour of, well, 1986.

"What is Megan's cat's name?"

Is it A: Mr. Walter Tinkleton
B: Sir Walter Fattington
or C: Dr. Fong

People, you know you wanna go to this show with me. Invisible Touch has an insane amount of hits on it. "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight," "Land of Confusion," "In too Deep," "Throwing it All Away." Muthafucking GENESIS!!!!!!