Pardon the Dust

I'm going through some internalized shit right now and everyone is paying for it.

Now you are too.

My apologies.

In the meantime, go watch Funny Games, that "new" remake movie, and tell me what you think.

Because seriously, the tidbits of reviews I heard were all "SCARIEST MOVIE EVER" and "I PEED MY PANTS!"

When in reality, I just ate 2/3's a bag of goldfish and wondered when the scary was gonna start.

Still, not a bad movie but nowhere near as frightening as I wanted it to be. And I even went alone!

So let me know your thoughts.

In the meantime, I'm going to mop my floors.

Make a Wish

Suddenly, it's almost April.
And that means it's almost May.
And that means it's two months from my birthday.

Today, I was discussing birthday parties with a friend.

I explained how I needed to have a better birthday this year. After 10 years of shitty birthdays, I'm finally having birthday on a Saturday when I'm old enough to drink. That means a Friday night at a 4am bar, all day Saturday and ended somewhere on Sunday. I'm due a birthday with tons of friends, tons of booze, and hopefully tons of sex.

As I mentioned, though, I realized something.
I was turning 23.
For the longest time, I thought I was simply going to be 22 again (not like this year was actually any good or anything.)
Then a good friend took a totally off guard picture of me.
To say I look old and saggy in it is an understatement.
I look straight up haggard.
And then I looked at my ever widening beer gut and came to the epiphany:

I'M GETTING FUCKING OLD!

Everbody thinks that though.
They all say "after 21, it's all downhill. There is nothing to look forward to."

There isn't?
I mean, in this state, you can't legally rent a car until you are 25.
That's something, right?
And hell, I can't run for president until I'm 35.
That's something, right?
And I won't be marching on Washington demanding my social security checks until I'm 65.
That's something, rigth?


Ok. Maybe life really will just turn into working, marrying, babying, and then deathing.

But I'd like to pretend there are still those benchmarks in life that you hit at certain ages.
When you're younger, they are very defined and time specific.
Getting your drivers license.
Graduating from college.
Losing your virginity in a dorm room.

And as we get older, there are still events that we will reach. Only, the time is not so specific.

Here are a few things that you will inevitably do, yet when they will happen is completely up to you.

• Sign up for insurance through your place of employment - you will feel really old and mature and your friends will make fun of you but you will secretly be excited about going to the gyno for only $20.
• Find a white hair...down there - you'll blame stress. And so will I.
• See a college kid on the street and mock their outfit like your mother would - but really, c'mon now, these kids today.
• Refuse to buy the latest version of a piece of technology - you'll need the money to buy your first hip replacement.
• Stop drinking beer and start drinking wine - it's aged. just like you.

See how many things you get to look forward to as you age?
All of these steps in your life you must make to continue the journey.

But I really must be going.
It's 10:00 pm and I have to get up early so I can go to my job where I might just open up a 401(k).

Late Night Rant #2

Ok, remember when everybody first got email?

It was the greatest thing in the world!

It was like sending mail without using postage! You would send images and documents without faxing or sending a messenger! You could avoid phone conversations!
It was truly remarkable.

And then came instant messaging.

Now, not only could you sent messages, but it was AS FAST AS THE PHONE!
No more awkward silences, no more wishing you could retract something you said. Now all you had to do type and backspace and type again.

Then, when everyone got cell phones we realized something.
Wait a second, when I'm at home instant messaging my friends, I don't have to talk.
Why can't I just instant message them WITH MY PHONE?!

And texting arrived.

At first, I hated the idea of texting.

It's a phone. You are paying money to CALL AND TALK TO PEOPLE.
Yet instead of pushing ONE button to dial a number (or maybe two buttons, god forbid), you want to press a weird combination of numbers hoping it spells a word.

Two years later, I pay an extra $15 a month to have unlimited texts.
I get 300 minutes a month and I never go over.

I sold out, bought in, whatever.

But really, when you work in an office or go to school or are frequently in loud bars where you can't even hear the person next to you, texts do come in handy.

But there's one thing I still can't stand. And it's all because of e-mails.

As I mentioned, when emailing began, it was amazing.

Then the spam started.

And then your mom and your aunt and your grandma got email.

and then you got forwarded EVERY PIECE OF STUPID CRAP EVER!

"COUNT TO THREE AND SCROLL DOWN AND MAKE A WISH!"
"WHY WOMEN LOVE CHOCOLATE - 50 WAYS"
"HERE ARE SOME FUNNY JOKES ABOUT LAWYERS."


If there's anything more annoying on the face of the earth than junk mail (the real stuff), it's EMAIL FORWARDS.

At least my spam inbox catches all the junk from people I don't know.

But that email about cats going to heaven from uncle tom still shows up "one new message."
And you get all excited thinking it's something important when a fucking cat with angel wings pops up making you want to throw shit at the screen.

But luckily, since everybody is too busy instant messaging, forwards are slowly dying and retiring on myspace and facebook where they belong.

or so I thought.


WHO SAID IT WAS OK FOR TEXT MESSAGES TO BE EMAIL FORWARDS?!

If I get one more text that begins with "FW:" I'm going to cancel my contract.

I would go on, but my body is already so stressed out, it's going to give itself a hernia.


But first let me forward you this text bout a funny joke about hernias.

Hectic and Hopeful

Ok so I've been really busy looking for a new apartment (we all know how much I love doing it).

It's like a part time job. You go to work and spend all free time obsessively checking craigslist and the Reader and other random newspapers and websites.
Then you make a gazillion phone calls and usually only get through to 1/3 of them.
Then you have to make an appointment to see the place and hope all parties involve actually show up.
Then you trek all over town looking at COMPLETE DUMPS because you are poor and can't afford shit yet still somehow think you deserve better.

Then one day, lady luck opens the front door and guides you to the third floor. You walk in, flick on the light and literally shit your pants in amazement.

That is what happened to me two hours ago.

After looking at an overpriced apartment in a weird area as well as a dirt cheap and straight up DIRTY apartment in the middle of fucking nowhere, me and my future roomie headed to the last one of the night.

The landlord, who lives in the same building, mentioned that it might be rented, but no money had exchanged hands so he would still show it.

Then we saw it and, I'm not saying this just to say it, but this was the MOST AMAZING APARTMENT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE.

And, I mean, I got a lot of friends. And I've been inside many apartments from downtown to the south side to the west side to the north side and everywhere in between.

For the price, location, size, and view = this place beat them ALL.

We filled out the credit apps and said "listen, we will give you a check right now. We like it that much."

We met the man's wife and chit chatted but when it comes down to it, we'll be getting a call tomorrow.

Sometime tomorrow at work, I'm going to get a call that is either going to send me dancing into the halls or crying in the bathroom.

All I ask is for you, anybody, to send all your good thoughts and wishes my way.
I've been through a lot of shit this past year and I think it's my turn for some good fortune.

I'm off to do the dishes and try to sleep.

I feel a restless night is ahead of me.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Me - "I don't care what kind of beer. You're paying, you pick."

Z - "Well I can't find a 30 pack of Old Style. You said you liked Old Style better than PBR?"

Me - "No, the list goes worst to best - Old Style, PBR, and Busch or Busch Lite, even better."

Z - "EWWWW!"

Me - "Well just get the Old Style, and we'll have some hot or cold sandwiches with dem!"

Z- "ooh! I found a cold 30 pack of PBR! 50 cents a can. You can't beat that!"


And then I got fatter.

The Golden Rule

Working in a restaurant taught me to believe in karma.

Karma, is the reason why those in the service industry always tip over 20%.

We believe that what goes around comes around and as long as we tip others well, others will tip us well.
It's a truly silly idea that getting paid below minimum wage really comes down to a semi-religious school of thought that can be substituted with the phrase "treat people the way you'd like to be treated."

And even though I have left the restaurant industry (for good?), one thing has remained with me and it's not just the ability to carry 10 full glasses on a small tray.

I oddly enough believe in karma.

But it's extended beyond making sure I tip well.

Basically, my life has turned into a little game called "What Did I Do That Was So Terrible To Warrant This Much Bad Karma?"
This game has been going on since September.

The last month has seen 3-4 injuries (physical) and a few other injuries (emotional.)
I fell over on my bike because the street was a sheet of ice. Physical bruise.
I had a boy leave me. Emotional bruise.
I fell into a concrete stairwell. Bruised knee.
And just yesterday, I hit a pedestrian with my bike. Physical aches, bruises, and bloody scrapes.

And this was just the past 30 days.

Do you believe in karma?

Do you think if 8 months of bad luck means that something good is coming your way?
Or does it mean that you did something so unbelievably awful that you EARNED 8 months of bad luck?

I'm sticking with the camp that predicts future good karma.

Because as hard as I've looked at the past, I see a few trips and mistakes.
But nothing to warrant the physical and emotional trips and mistakes I've endured.

I'm about ready to throw the idea of karma out the window.

And maybe that's what will end this unlucky streak. If I don't believe in it, it won't exist.


Because I know I didn't break a mirror.
I can't even imagine 7 more years of this shit.

The More You Know

Hey you motherfuckers!

I know that when you are really jonesing for a beer after work, you are like "why walk the extra 20 feet to the corner, let's just run across the middle of the street during rush hour and jump the median to pay $5 for a miller light at the frat bar!"

DON'T DO IT!

Because if the car doesn't hit you, the girl on the bike who is screaming at you to get out of the way will.

and yeah. you might walk away without a scratch.

BUT I GOT BLOOD ON MY SHIRT, RIPPED MY NEW JACKET, AND MY ELBOW IS BRUISED AND SWOLLEN!


USE CROSSWALKS!!!!



I need a stiff drink.

Eat Your Veggies!

I got a beef with vegetarians and vegans. (PUNNY!)

Here's my thing.
I can understand not eating AS MUCH meat, for healths sake.
I mean, I rarely eat red meat. Too much cholesterol and saturated fat. There are other ways to get protein. It's a rare treat to have steak and it's usually once a year on my birthday.
I only eat chicken when my body is craving protein and something to really chew.

I live on a steady diet of beans, egg whites, and fish at this point in my life mainly for healthy reasons (YAY OMEGA 3!)

But that's the thing.
If my body starts telling me "HEY! WE WOULD LOVE TO CHOW DOWN ON SOME CHICKEN RIGHT NOW," I listen to it.
But if not, I'm perfectly fine with a nice grilled tilapia.

But when people don't eat meat for ANIMAL RIGHTS, I get pissed off.

These are the kind of people who eat all kinds of "fake" meat products like soy sausage and seitan and chicken-flavored tofu.
They'll go buy soy burgers that have all kinds of weird ingredients in them to make them taste LIKE MEAT.

Now tell me, what's better for your body? Eating some free range chicken, or eating some overly processed nugget of soy and preservatives that has almost 70% of the calories of a regular fucking chicken nugget from Mcdonalds?

I don't get it!

It's almost as if they would rather have a fucking chicken (that can't even fly and can barely sustain itself without human interaction because they've been bred that way for HUNDREDS OF YEARS) live a perfectly happy, healthy life while instead their body slowly rots away and develops clogged arteries from a diet of french fries and soy burgers cooked in oil.

I'll admit, I sometimes will make chili with the boca "ground meat" mainly because, like I said, I'm not a fan of the red meat.

But I will not go out of my way to buy something that TASTES like meat.
If my body WANTS meat, it's gonna fuck eat meat!
If my bones are craving some calcium, I grab the yogurt! (and a lactose intolerance pill while I'm at it)

I enjoy garden burgers because they taste like VEGGIES, not like a fake cow.

And wah wah wah, animals are being slaughtered.
By not buying meat, you're not stopping that from happening.
It's like constantly complaining about the war in iraq but not getting involved in politics outside of putting an "i voted" sticker on your jacket.

We are the highest level of the food chain not because we are stronger or bigger.
But because we developed HIGHER INTELLIGENCE.
We have language and systems.
I mean, somebody created this computer and the ability for people in Japan to read what I'm writing (and somebody from American flew on a plane, a feat of engineering, to most likely teach the people there how to read English.)

We eat animals because our bodies crave protein and when we were cavemen and nothing was growing in the ground during winter or a drought or whatever, we killed animals to survive because we had the intelligence to build tools.

I'm getting kind of carried away.

And to think, I just got pissed off while making my grocery list.

Although, I will admit to drinking soymilk.

Mostly because cow's milk makes my insides want to explode.

At least it doesn't taste like a cow.

Quit Yer Bitchin'!

A recent string of events has forced me to write the following.

I do not mean to offend any one person, I will be generalizing and everything I say, I am most likely guilty of as well.

Let that be a warning to you. I love my friends dearly and only want the best for them.


That being said - I got a major beef with my generation.
To put it bluntly:

YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF SPOILED BABIES WHO WHINE WAY TOO MUCH ABOUT SHIT THAT YOU COULD CHANGE EASILY BUT YOU ARE TOO LAZY!

ahh, I feel better.


Honestly, I can't take it anymore.

Most generations are known by letters. Generation X, Generation Y.
Ours will go down in history as Generation Debt.

HOW ARE YOU KIDS SO BAD WITH MONEY?!

It seriously astounds me until I realized something.
You can blame the kids 50% for this.
But you can also blame the parents!

Listen up you people with children - when the kids are old enough to get a job, MAKE THEM GET ONE.
Quit letting them live on the god damned dole!

I swear, 80% of neuroses in people is because they have no idea how the real world works because someone else is paying the bills. So they get to live inside their head all day long and not have to worry about ANYTHING ELSE, because everything else costs money and if that's covered than SHIT! You got all the time in the world to focus on yourself and live in your own dreamworld.

And then the baby boomers start writing all these articles in the paper calling us "Generation i" as in ipod but most importantly, as in ME, MYSELF AND I.

Well guess what mom and dad?
YOU HELPED THIS HAPPEN!

Maybe if you would have let them learn their lessons the hard way and see that NO YOU CANNOT BUY EVERYTHING ON CREDIT WHENEVER YOU FEEL LIKE IT; then maybe thse kids wouldn't have all the time in the world to have "me" as their number one project in life.

On the money issue, I'm truly in the dark. I am 100% self sufficient. I'm paying off my loans. I buy my groceries. Everything in my house outside of birthday or christmas gifts, I bought/pay for myself.

It's really hard for me to understand people who have NO CONCEPT of money. Like, how much is a lot or the fact that "no, I can't buy that right now because I have to go to work first and make the money."

Yet I continue to talk to people who just have NO CONCEPT. You could say I'm jealous and MAYBE YOU ARE RIGHT, but at the same time, while I do have time to focus on me now (thank god I graduated college), I don't let it take over my life.

That's not to say I'm totally exempt from my own generation.

When it comes to body issues, diet and exercise, I do have some neuroses.
Ok, maybe more than "some." At least all my exes and friends will say that.

Basically, I'll start a diet or exercise routine and after a week or two, something will happen that will knock me off the horse and another week or two of being fat and lazy will commence before I climb up back on the horse.

But once I'm on that horse, I AM FUCKING ON THAT HORSE.

I will be the most restrained person you've ever seen.
I will eat the same boring as shit for a WEEK straight and not spend a dime on outside food or fun.
I will not spend 30 minutes on the treadmill.
I will go outside jogging for damn near 60.
Even when I'm off the horse I refuse to take a bus or train. I still ride a bike everywhere (and no, I do not consider it exercise since I do it everyday. Like how I don't consider walking 5 miles a workout.)

But the "Generation i" kids?

Well mom and dad bought them a car and darn tootin they HAVE to use it since mom and dad bought it and if they don't, well then they will take it away and GOD KNOWS WHAT ELSE they'll take away.
If walking is out of the question, then riding a bike is REALLY out of the question. (sidenote - many kids in art school will own really fancy bikes that mom and dad bought them instead of cars because they want to look cool. Just think of it as a car. They get about as much exercise on it.)


When I file my taxes, I don't even claim myself.
I claim zero.
I am beyond dependence.


And once again, I'm not singling out anyone who may read this and knows me.
But recent conversations I've been having on the topic of our generation and their problems with money and their mind has been eating at me for about a week.

So let this be a lesson to those of you who DO see yourself somewhere in this rant.

You CAN change things.

You can demand to be cut off (or fine, reduce the dole a bit, jeez).
You can actually NOT go out every night and NOT use your card for everything when you have no money. (I know this is hard to believe, but I haven't gone out since SATURDAY! I know, what am I, old?!)
You can workout WITHOUT an expensive gym memberships. Remember parks?


And don't worry, I'm trying to work on the last bit as well as all my other crazies.

But if I am throwing my hat in the ring, the least I ask is for you to join me.

Then again, that's a group mentality and Generation i would have none of it.

THIS JUST IN!

Ok, I was just made aware of something.

How could I FORGET THIS!

Probably because I was too busy moping.

But here is an AMENDMENT to my List Things Single Women Who Live Alone Do.

Without further ado, I bring you the final installment:


#6 - We can have sex everywhere but the bed - No roommates means nobody will yell or be shocked when you have sex on the kitchen table, on the couch, on the yoga mat, on the kitchen counter, or in the shower with the door open.

Damn, this reminds me of all the places I still haven't had sex in my apartment.
And to think I've only got until May 31.

Any boys feel like helping me accomplish this task?

My requirements are as follows:

• 6 feet tall
• Funny
• Cute
• Have the Hulk-like strength to pick me up for more than 3 seconds
• Good in the sack and uninhibited as well.

I only expect the best.

SHOW YOURSELVES!


Oh who am I kidding.

My future roommates will have to just get used to finding me in compromising positions.

And since they are guys, I think they will just grab a bowl of popcorn and think "hey, free show."

But my shit ain't free.
I charge by the hour for viewing.

Finally, I Speak

I'm now allowed to blog about this.

For the first time in MY LIFE, I had my heart broken (as the case may be.)
I wasn't "in love".
I wasn't seriously dating someone.

But I had found someone that I really liked and I thought really liked me back.

But just as I usually break up with people after two months, once that mark hit, this time around, THE DUDE left me.

To say I had fallen head over heels for this guy was an understatement.
Our physical chemistry was off the charts.
I don't think I have ever jumped into something so blindly as I have with him.
I literally closed my eyes and let myself fall into the idea of being with him.

Even though we never formally discussed whether or not we were EVEN DATING, we acted like it.

Saw each frequently, he called me, we talked on the phone. We went out to dinner and he ACTUALLY PAID. He would insist on paying.
This never happens. I usually grab the tab and insist on a 50/50 split at least.
But no. He wanted to pay.
He even lent me something which I am still using and am not sure when it'll be returned.

But then, I got a new job, he went out of town, and once he got back, everything changed.
He ignored me.
Flaked on plans (you'll remember my flaking freakout.)
And finally, I forced him to speak a bit. Not literally of course.

I got dumped over a text message.

The "I'm not ready for a relationship" quote even tho we weren't even dating, according to the books.
This was after tons of other excuses.
Give me the truth.
Is that so hard?

Because he was so fucking vague, I even thought "well, maybe if I explain that I'm not looking for a relationship and just want to keep what we do have, company and good sex, he'll still want to see me."

That resulting in the 3rd most awkward night of my life. (#1 and #2 are to be saved for another night.)
Which resulted in me being even more confused.
Knowing he doesn't want to sleep with me but still wants to hang out.
He wouldn't even say the f-word.
I had to ask him if we were just friends.
"I guess so," he reluctantly admitted.


So here's the deal.

WHAT DOES HE WANT?

I should just ask him straight up, but trying to get him to talk is like pulling teeth (I almost had to, I swear.)

Do you want to be just friends?
If so, what did I do to make you not physically attracted to me anymore? Were you faking it the whole time? Did you really not find me "beautiful" as you told me? When you said "I miss you" were you lying just to get your rocks off with the ugly girl?


These thoughts still run through my head a month later.
And to think I've been forced to be alone because I'll hurt anyone else while I figure out how to get over this.


To anyone who's been cheated on and still back in the dating game, I commend you.

I simply had an immature boy ignore me and I'm acting like I just became a widow.

What are your secrets to getting over a dude you still dig even though you know he's obviously an idiot asshole?

Ok, maybe those are harsh words.

So, I'll just call him a pussy instead.

Seriously, I can take the truth.

"You can't handle the truth."

Oh yeah?


Try me.

Step Inside

Since June of 2007, I have lived alone.
For the first time ever.

It's great about 85% of the time.
The other 15% is living really far from my friends/feeling alone and emo sometimes.

But the perks of living alone very much so outweigh any downsides.

To all those who live with roommates or to all those boys who wonder what us girls do, below is a list of things I get to do because I live alone. And I'm a dirty weirdo.

So here is my list of:

Things Single Women Who Live Alone Do

1. Leave ALL of our clothes around - I'm not just talking about pants or jackets. I'm basically telling you that right at this moment, I got a pair of underwear on my bathroom shelf and a black bra on the loveseat.
2. Eat everywhere but the kitchen - There are crumbs all over my computer desk, there are cups on my coffee table, and one time, I fell asleep eating a piece of bread and drinking water. I woke up with the bread on my chest and the glass of water STILL UPRIGHT IN MY HAND. Close call.
   
3. Talk to ourselves/our cats - My cat listens to me. He knows all my secrets. And my clone in the mirror gets to hear all about my poor body image. But really, my cat is my best friend who loves me and never judges.
4. Go to the bathroom with the door open - Who else is gonna see/hear me? Usually, there's something good on the TV and even though it is a DVD and I could pause it, I'd rather just leave the door open. My cat is totally allowed to watch. I told you he doesn't judge.
5. Walk around naked - OK, so yeah, I RARELY do this (I bring the robe into the bathroom with me during the shower, and then I close the door because you never know when a robber might come in and see you naked.) But I have some girlfriends who swear by this. Sometimes, I'll walk around without underwear on, but just PJ pants or just my robe. Oh wait that's EVERY DAY.

So as you can see, we are dirty (in multiple ways) and probably not that far off from guys who live alone (although we don't have farting contests with ourselves or anything.)

I'm going to miss living alone.
In two months I am moving in with two guys.

Goodbye bras laying around and open bathroom doors.
Hello cans of beer on the ground and smelly bathrooms with matchsticks on the sink.

Here Kitty, Kitty

This morning, I got a flat tire.
Because of this, I had to walk many miles to buy the items necessary to fix said flat as well as walk the many miles home to fix it (of which I have yet to do.)

About 2 blocks from my house, I'm crossing the street when out of fucking nowhere, a black pitbull comes running and barking straight at me.

Like any normal human, I stop dead in the middle of the street, yell out something incoherent sounding similar to "OH MY GOD NO!" and basically assumed a position where it probably looked like a snake was about to bite my feet.

For some lucky reason, the dog stopped two feet away, barked some more, and then ran off from whatever dog ring it came from.

Once I was able to continue walking, I continued to mutter to myself "put your dog on a leash" and "why do people even own dogs."


And after reading all of the Stuff White People Like while at work today, I realized that unlike other white people, I do NOT like dogs.

Besides the fact that they are smelly and you have to walk them at least 3 times a day, they are by far the most dependent creatures on earth.

It's like having a baby. A really smelly baby that eats your shoes.

The damn thing depends on you for everything, doesn't understand a word you say, and doesn't know it's own name half the time.
If those doesn't scream infant, I don't know what does.

And no wonder people get dogs as the precursor to kids when in a serious relationship. I even fell for this stupid trick.
Let's just say, he has the dog and we don't live together anymore.

And this is why I LOVE cats.

My cat is dependent, just like any animal. But only to the extent that I give him food and water and clean his box.

He can take a dump WITHOUT me holding his leash.
If I'm sitting and watching TV, he might be in the next room sleeping.
Unlike a dog that FOLLOWS YOU EVERYWHERE and drools on shit and constantly begs when you are eating. ugh.

Cats are not just superior to dogs, they are superior to kids.
This is most likely why single women will have a shit ton of cats and not kids.

While children eventually become less dependent than dogs, they go the exact opposite direction. They begin to resent the very person/people that raised him or her.
They NEVER want to be around their parents. They HATE their parents.

Cats always love you and give you companionship. Just on their terms.
And I still think my cat wants too much attention!
My cat will never hate me.
But he also won't watch me eat and whine.
And my cat will NEVER cry and make me clean his diaper.


Moral of the story - cats are awesome and dogs are as time-consuming and silly as children.

Don't even get me started on dogs that are smaller than cats.

My cat will eat your dog.

end of story.

Excuses and Apologies

I just decided that, in the vein of all other bloggers, that weekends will most likely be sans updates.

Sorry about that but I do enjoy having a life as well as excessive drinking.

See you Monday with coffee in hand.

Older and Wiser?

It's three months until my birthday.

Less than three months until I'll be living in a completely new neighborhood with new roommates and hopefully some more money in my pocket.

I'll be 23 years old, with a "real" 8-5 job with benefits.
And lots of white hair.

I'm getting the jowels already.
I can see the wrinkles.

No wonder Lohan is already on botox.


I feel like I'm still 20 years old.
Totally unsure of life, barely cruising along.
Yet suddenly, I'm getting closer to being a quarter of a century old.

It's not a good feeling.

I heard there was some new show called "Quarterlife.." I used to tell people I was having a "mid-mid-life crisis." I didn't know I could have just called it a "quarterlife crisis." But nobody calls it a "half-life" crisis. Sounds like a gamer lost power for a day.

so I'll stick to mid-mid-life.

Because nobody gets married anymore (and if they do, they end up divorced), and when college ends, nobody ever gets a job in their field, if they even like their field after 4 years of "studying" it.

We are just totally jaded by the time we are 16.

I feel like our generation, I would say, people born between 1982 and 1987 were the last to experience a real childhood.

Sure we had Nintendo, but it was more of like a board game. You played it with friends sometimes, but we still went outside.

I used to have a crazy imagination. I could spend all day outside doing god knows what but doing something.
I used to make up clubs and games and all kinds of wacky shit.
The time would fly by and I don't even remember half the stuff I did (I'm sure my excessive drinking doesn't help that fact.)

Then, when I was around 12, the internet arrived.
AOL version 3.0 was the first time I experienced the online, dial-up revolution that would destroy my life/open my life to a multitude of experiences.

But kids today, they don't go outside as much.
They are SO plugged in, they missed all the fun to be had.
I worry about it.

This is yet ANOTHER reason I refuse to have children.

I have a cousin who is 17.
She has TWO ipods.
Because apparently, one is not enough.

I had a portable CD player that I didn't really use until I got a car and had to plug it into the tape deck.

I have a 12 year old cousin who has a myspace.

When I was 12, I was just understanding what a chatroom even was. I didn't even know what URL stood for (wait...do I now?)

I guess what I'm trying to say in this half-tipsy rant (I drink WAAAY too much wine), is that I want to be 22 forever.

Every year older is another year that I get that look from my family about why I am not married or having a more successful career.

All I can do, is watch tons more Sex and the City and think to myself "I hope I am that fabulous in 10 years."

And if I tell myself that enough, and do enough yoga, I should be.

In the meantime, I'm going to try and live as though I still feel young.
While reality proves I fall asleep by 10:30 every night.

I can't even stay up to watch the late show.

I'm stuck between being old and being young.

Ah, depression abounds.

Animal Attraction

A friend and I were recently talking.

She has a friend whose ex boyfriend is in some Hot Topic emo band that apparently just got a record deal and is now making millions of dollars.
The dude is only 19.

So the girl is like "I wish I could date him again, but I just can't. Besides the fact that it would be all about the money."
I was like "why can't she date him?"
And my friend explained, "She just doesn't want to be with him."

And then I looked at myself and my history and saw similar patterns.

For some reason, we have NO CONTROL over who we like.

I might have the greatest "guy on paper" (to yet again quote Sex and the City), where he is a super nice guy with a steady job and aspirations, but for some reason, I am not attracted to him beyond friend mode. There's no "spark", as cliche as that is. I'd hug him, but kissing him would be like tongue-ing my dad. Oh god, gross, I'm freaking myself out.
Nonetheless, the guy is usually all sorts of into me and I'm really just not that into him.

Then I meet a guy who is all sorts of wrong.
But I can't get enough.
I want to be with him all the time.
He might make me laugh.
The sex might be incredible.
Whatever the case may be, I get excited when I know we are going to see each other.
Yet, it'll all come crashing down within 2 months. Usually because he is just not that into ME.

Which is also the same amount of time it'll take me to realize that I'm NOT attracted to someone.

Where does this animal magnetism come from?
A friend told me pheromones.
Which I believe in but I swear it goes beyond that.

We want what we can't have.

Or in my case, I am either the one head over heels or the dude is.
It's never equal.

I know I've addressed this before but now I wonder WHY?

What about my being makes me click with someone and not with another?
How come I can appreciate someone being attractive, yet my body doesn't respond?

And to think I'm still sober and spewing out these bullshit, un-answerable questions.


All I can hope for is when that day comes where I meet that one who is just that into me as I am into him, he might be the one making millions of dollars.

But I'll take a steady job and a clean criminal background.

Hell, a steady job might just be enough.
As long as the sex is incredible.

Animal magnetism, indeed.

Voyeuristic

After my laborious work day (of which I spent many hours gchatting inbetween actual work), I had to hop on the blue line train and spend about 45-50 minutes traveling to go to my tax man.

$30 and 30 minutes later, I was walking back to said train with the happy thought that uncle sam was going to give me some money (damn right.)

Because I ride a bike, I hardly ever take the train (except when it rains, I break a bone, or I have to be to the far northwest side in 45 minutes.)

I usually despise taking the train.
No exercise.
The cost adds up quickly.
People stare at you.

Hell, on the way home today, at the Polk station on the Pink line, this dude gets off the train and as I'm sitting looking out the window, he stops, and LOOKS RIGHT AT ME with this look that says "I AM CRAZY AND KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE AND WILL KILL YOU TONIGHT."

I pretty much jumped in my seat.

But I must admit, there is one nice, albeit fleeting, bonus to riding the train.
And it only happens at night.

Looking in people's windows.


I CAN'T GET ENOUGH!

Call me a dirty pervert, but I love seeing where others live.
Even if there is no actual human being around, I thrive on riding the train and being able to see into people's kitchens and comparing how many dirty dishes they have compared to me. Or seeing how many people have flat screen televisions yet still just watch American Idol. Or what color they painted their walls.

The holy grail of voyeurism is, of course, seeing two people doing the nasty.
I have yet to witness this.

On my bike, I am witness to many things. Usually it's people in cars, and usually they are picking their nose (3 days ago I saw a man in a bank, with GLASS WINDOWS FOR WALLS, digging for snot gold.)

Yet neither on my bike nor in a train car have I seen two people in the "privacy" of their own home or automobile, getting it on.

I have been witness to many a used condom on the sidewalk, but alas. I only see the results, not the main event!

And you can't get your voyeruism on with just any train route. I must admit, my line, the Pink Line, is especially awful. Either you are downtown where no one actually lives or you are riding through a warehouse district where people own condos but don't actually live there.

I must admit, the blue line running from Division (above ground) to where it dives underground to Logan Square is pretty amazing. As is bits and pieces of the north bound red line from Belmont to Howard. You just gotta know where to look and somehow, I know. It helps that these lines run 24 hours a day. You can then maximize your opportunity to witness someone doing the wild thing.

So here is my mission, if you choose to accept it:

Ride your favorite train line.
See someone doing something naughty.
And report back (pictures are worth super bonus points.)

god speed!

Pizza and Pain

So tonight, at 6pm, I had a tattoo appointment.

Me and a friend went because for some odd reason I was really anxious/nervous/worried about the needle hitting my bone and making my spine shake.

It was NOTHING!

I remember the outline hurting a lot more on my first tattoo.

This time was seriously nothing.
It BARELY hurt.
At some points, it MAYBE felt like somebody took like a scrubber and rubbed my neck really quick but besides that, it was like a walk in the park (in spring.)

I then got pizza with a friend, talking non stop because of the endorphin high and not noticing that I was indeed eating pizza that contained dairy and my body would soon fight itself.

I then went to visit yet ANOTHER friend.
I walked my bike into his backyard and started walking towards his porch to lock up.

And that was when my right foot, walking normally, took a dive and my right knee banged into a concrete wall.

Yes, I had unknowingly walked straight into those evil shadowy stairs that go towards a basement.

The pain of my knee > the pain of my tattoo.


I also got blood on my jeans.

DAMN.


Moral of the story:
Go get tattoos. They don't hurt at all.
And always watch where you walk. Especially when high on endorphins.

Doritos and Wine

While everyone knows I suffer from insane body image problems, when I don't have time to focus on how fat I think I look, I tend to think I look awesome.

Like, if I'm spending most of my time working, biking, dancing, drinking and sexing, I tend to think I'm too hot to trot (or some shit).

And this is when I go on BINGES!

This weekend, I devoured an ENTIRE BAG of chips as well as 16 ounces of lite sour cream (because they can't spell it LIGHT or else they are lying to you) as well as 2/3's of a pizza and 3 sugary baked goods from the mexican bakery.

And right now, I am having a love affair with a 25 cent bag of Doritos.

They aren't just "nacho" and "cool ranch" anymore.

We instead have SPICY NACHO and HABENERO (or something I can't spell.)

If kids today only knew how simple it was when we were kids.

I remember when flaming hot cheetos first hit the scene. I almost puked when my friend let me try one in 4th grade.

Now these kids have MULTIPLE flavors of spicy hot, including spicy hot WITH LIME!

Man. Now you can get fat with MORE FLAVOR!

But at least now that I'm older, I can wash down my 140 calories of 45% fat from calories with a nice glass of boxed wine.

Now I need to take a nap like an old lady so I can wake up and feel young again.

Discipline and Wine

I starting writing this blog entry at work that would have offended some personal friends or ostracized them or did something to make them think I am a terrible person (which I can be and probably am, truthfully.)

So instead, I am embarking on something that will keep me writing and not piss people off.

So the entries from now on may be shorter in length.
But there will be more of them.

I'm finally giving into the quantity over quality debate I have with myself. Although, my attitudes with this debate and sex have changed greatly mostly because I'm not currently having any so it makes thing easier.

Also, people read a blog more if they can obsessively check it every day and see something new to waste their time with (I'm not the only one who does this, right?)

And I'm an attention-seeking whore.

Today is day one of my attempt to write an entry every day.
Or at least 5 days a week. Like how many times a week I tell people I go to the gym. HA!
It'll be my little second job where I actually have fun and listen to shitty music while I work.

So here we go! Round one! (This one will be longer to make up for lost time.)


I just became permanent at my job. I was temping but then I got an email that was like "SHORT MEETING, 9AM WEDNESDAY" and then I noticed it was a meeting with only me, my boss, and my bosses boss and I started to freak out thinking that the drug test I took for this position came back positive and they are going to fire me because I sat next to someone who smoked pot 3 weeks ago.

But no. They offered me a permanent position. Salary, sick days, vacation days, 401(k), even insurance (if I can afford it/I hate the idea of paying insurance/it's like social security in that I am paying money that I will never see again.)

Of course I accepted.
Even though I have to get up at 6am 5 days a week and I am in bed by 10pm, thus missing out on all of the best weeknight drink specials aimed specifically for people my age; it's ok, because I am poor and in debt and plan on one day backpacking Europe (like, in 2 years, please lord let me save enough money.)

But back to the bar specials.
In Chicago, all the best nights to go out are weeknights. Each night, from Monday through Thursday, there are so many events going on with free or cheap booze and good looking young people that sometimes it's hard to pick. Back when I was young and carefree (ya know, 7 months ago, way back then), I would almost have to roll a dice to pick where I should go on Thursdays.

But now that I'm a cubicle slave who thinks "The Office" has even more meaning than ever before, I am forced to do all of my binge drinking on the weekends.

In Chicago, the Friday and Saturday nights are known as AMATEUR NIGHT!

It's when the yuppies and corporate whores put on their best mini skirts and makeup faces and hop in a cab to drink $5 miller lights and not dance.

And now, I have to join them.

On the week nights, there's usually one bar that people will go to for a certain event. Monday is Evil Olive for Rehab, Tuesday is Funky Buddha Lounge for Outdanced, Wednesdays might be Debonair for the Syndicate, and Thursdays are usually Empire Liquors for Fly by Night.

Now Friday, you might get lucky. It might be Britpop night at Darkroom like this weekend. Or there might be a good band playing somewhere.

But therein lies the problem.
On Friday and ESPECIALLY Saturday night, you gotta either pay a cover or pay to see a live show.

All the above week day events are free. And the booze is usually cheap ($1 PBR, anyone?)

So just because I work a 9-5, it's assumed that I suck, want to listen to shitty R&B, have money out the ass to pay cover charges, as well as really enjoying Grolsch or Heineken.

So, to stop myself from completely turning into a boring clone as beige as my cubicle walls, I ride my bike to work, make funky looking clothing options, cut my hair funny, and on Tuesday, I'm getting another tattoo.

I really can't afford it but I also couldn't afford to see the Spice Girls in the 6th row last minute but my credit card sure didn't mind paying for it. (LONG STORY)

So if anyone knows of anything ACTUALLY FUN to do on Friday and Saturday nights, let me know.

In the meantime, I'm going to continue to try out a new bar every weekend until I find one with no cover, reasonably priced drinks, and good dancing.

And most importantly, a crowd that doesn't consist of trixies and chads.