Yo. Changes are coming soon to the blog. So if you notice things missing or moving around, it's probably on purpose. Just sayin'. xo (10-1-14)

Saturday, July 30, 2011

10 Undeniable Truths

1. You can have 500 bazillion TV channels, but when you have insomnia you can't find a single program worth watching.

2. GPS needs an "avoid the ghetto" reroute option. Can someone please get on that?

3. Drunk dreams are realities you're in denial about until someone shows up with photo/video evidence.

4. Your fourth grade teacher lied to you. You will never need to write in cursive. Ever.

5. The day you wear a white shirt and forget an umbrella is the day it will rain down on you like Zeus himself is angry at the world. And yes, everyone will see your lacy white bra underneath as you run for cover.

6. You've had spinach stuck in your teeth for over an hour now, and no one told you because it's funny. They've been tracking its migration, which is why they keep asking you mundane questions that they know you'll answer. Go to the bathroom and find your dignity.

7. When something says 0 calories, and you eat 10 of them, they're no longer 0 calories. Somehow they add up to tight pants and a muffin top.

8. On a family road trip no one ever pees at the same time. You WILL have to stop again.

9. You are thinking about sex right now. And now you're looking around to see if anyone noticed.

10. Somewhere out there you look terrible in the background of some random family's vacation photo. And when face recognition software becomes mainstream it will haunt you. Just accept this and move on.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

The Stacks

It totally blows the big one that Borders is closing their doors for good. I have always loved Borders over other chain stores. Of course nothing beats a good indie store with stacks upon stacks of books piled precariously in every nook and corner. The kind of store that employs the strange and oddly intuitive emo kid who can always find that book you didn't realize you were looking for, until he hands it to you.

But to get back on point, I went to one of the last Borders stores during their closing sales. I perused the books and picked up a few that I had been meaning to buy eventually. But the section that sucked me in, that called to me, was the music. I can't recall the last time I walked through stacks of cds. It's so easy these days to download everything from the comfort of my couch. I had long forgotten the joy of flipping through cd cases as I worked my way down the aisle. I get that joy every time I walk into Reckless Records for vinyl (or any other vinyl store for that matter), but that's because I like to inspect my used vinyl for quality. Why don't I buy cds anymore? And so I did. I bought three that day.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Worst. Date. Evah.

Ok, a couple things you need to know first. One, this happened when I was 27 years old. Two, I cannot for the life of me remember this guy's name. So we're going to call him Greg because why not.

I met Greg at a friend's birthday party. It was a wild night that ended around six the next morning. Greg was the guy asleep on the back porch, and because I was young and stupid I found it charming. I offered him a ride home since he lived in the burbs with his parents (red flag number one).

Greg took a liking to me and asked our mutual friend for my number, which I eventually caved permission to. We went out on one date that was so-so, but there was just no chemistry. I wrote him off as a 25 year old college student still living at home and not really doing anything with his life. He apparently thought I was the one. So he begged our mutual friend to convince me into a second date. Eventually I caved. He was cute after all.

So on the Friday night that Greg was to pick me up for a movie, he was running late. He called to say he was helping a friend out and would be about an hour late (red flag number two). Two hours later he called to say the friend needed him to stay a bit longer but that he was on his way now. I said "Sure, what the hell. Come pick me up."

He arrived at my place with another guy in the car (red flag number three). He said he needed to give this friend a ride home real quick and then we would go to the movie. At this point it was almost 9:30 at night. If the friend lived nearby this wasn't a big deal. Turns out this friend lived an hour away in Wisconsin. WHAT!?

So we drove an hour to drop off his friend, and then an hour back, and by this time it was almost midnight because oh yes, we managed to get lost along the way. We arrived at the movie theater and guess who forgot his wallet? (red flag number four)

We were already at the theater so what the hell; I paid for the tickets and we went in. BUT HE DID NOT GET SNACKS GODAMNIT. I just wanted to watch the movie and then go the fuck home. During the movie (which I also cannot recall, probably because it sucked, and possibly because I've blocked most of this night from memory) he leaned over to tell me that he likes to hide in friend's showers and scare them when they go to the bathroom (red flag number eleventy-two).

Who the fuck hides in people's showers? And who then tells a girl when on a date? I'm not kidding when I say I always check my shower before sitting on the pot now. I have no intention of having the shit scared out of me, literally.

We left the theater around two o'clock and headed back to my place so I could escape the nightmare of a date. On the drive we got pulled over because Greg was driving 50 in a 25 zone (fuck red flags, alarm bells are sounding). I was aware at this point that Greg did not have his license on him because of the no wallet issue. I quickly learned that was the least of his problems.

So the cop came up, knocked on the window, asked for the usual, and Greg said "I'm sorry officer but I don't seem to have my wallet on me and I keep my license and registration in my wallet." Who the fuck keeps their car registration in their wallet? Seriously, who does that? This idiot apparently.

So the cop looked up his info from the licence plate and then slowly walked back to the car. He leaned in, looked at me and my pissed off face, and said to Greg "Son, I'm giving you a warning for now but I suggest you get the little lady home right away. I think she deserves a better night than this." (I fucking love that cop for saying it too.)

As we pulled back into traffic Greg laughed and said "Holy shit can you believe that just happened? I was sweating bullets back there thinking he would search the car. I have a quarter pound of weed in the back seat and I couldn't remember if I put it back in my backpack or not."

This 25 year old college student still living at home and not really doing anything with his life DRUG DEALER actually tried to kiss me when he dropped me off. I told him to fuck off and got out of the car.

Lesson learned? NEVER let your friends set you up with their other loser friends. (Or don't date the guy who woke up on the porch.)

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Irrational Fears

Ok, I just had a mini meltdown from one of my irrational fears, and then laughed my ass off at the absurdity of it all. And since this was witnessed by others, I might as well share it all here too!

My irrational fears:

* The space under my bed (thank you very fucking much M Night Shyamalan). I have this ridiculous fear that there's someone under the bed, which is fueled by my cat hiding under there and swiping at my feet with her paws. My cat is an asshole sometimes.

* Spiders crawling out from the center of banana bundles. WHAT!? It happens!

* Someone lurking in the backseat of my car waiting for me to get in so they can kill me (thanks to every teen horror flick my asshole friends have made me watch even though they know I don't do horror movies well).

* Snakes on a Plane! Just kidding. Snakes in general scare the bajezzus out of me. I refuse to go swimming in lakes anymore because I was bit by a snake while swimming in a small lake when I was 16. Not cool.

* Blood. The mere sight of blood can make me wanna yak my brains out, so I guess the fear is really more about the embarrassment of yaking my brains out for witnessing an extreme papercut.

* Cacti. Yes, I'm aware that it's urban legend that spiders live inside cacti and then they explode out killing everyone in sight. What's your point? I DID label this as irrational fears.

* Drinking spoiled milk. Recently I took a giant swig from the bottle (what? no one else drinks my milk) and out came chunky milk. It didn't taste spoiled, but it had separated and OMGHOLYSHIT did it freak me out.

 I'm sure I have others, but this is enough to feel mocked openly. What are YOUR irrational fears?

Friday, July 22, 2011

Music is my Time Machine

Two different people with very different music styles told me in as many days that I've introduced them to some new music. Hmm. I've gotta say here, what the what? I never thought of myself as in the know when it came to music. I've kind of always felt like I was a few steps behind the times. But I guess I can surprise even myself sometimes.

So at the request of one of those friends I'm putting together a playlist of music you need to know. And also at his request it will be named If You Don't Know This You Suck. I'll share the list on Grooveshark, Spotify, basically anywhere I can find that will let me. Message me if you want it sent to you. And if that doesn't work, I'll at least post the artists and song titles here and you can look them up your own damn self.


Spotify and Grooveshark are both acting like assholes. They won't upload my music properly. What's that bullshit about? So here's the list of songs and artists as a consolation prize. I tried to choose artists and songs that people might not already know, but at the same time I also wanted to choose songs that I just really love. So this is an eclectic and fun mix that isn't really meant to be played all together. Not that it'll stop me.

If You Don't Know This You Suck

Bad Enough for You, All Time Low
Dressed Sharply, An Horse
I Know What I Am, Band of Skulls
Tighten Up, The Black Keys
Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked, Cage the Elephant
Let the Drummer Kick, Citizen Cope
The City Is At War, Cobra Starship
Grounds For Divorce, Elbow
The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song, The Flaming Lips
Don’t Shut ‘Em Down, Flogging Molly
I Don’t Wanna Dance, Hey Monday
Dangerous, Kardinall Offishall
Lips Like Morphine, Kill Hannah
Black Horse & the Cherry Tree, KT Tunstall
Smile, Lily Allen
Keep It Fascinating, Major Lazer
Your Surrender, Neon Trees
Good Life, OneRepublic
Broken Record, Plain White T’s
Your Ex-Girlfriend, The Bad Examples
In the Dirt, S. Carey
Answers, The Scissors*
Let’s Go, The Scissors*
Breakeven, The Script
Girl Inform Me, The Shins
Under Cover of Darkness, The Strokes
Horchata, Vampire Weekend
Say You Like Me, We The Kings
Perfect Situation, Weezer
Hide, Yellowcard
*I'm aware that The Scissors are listed twice, and I know that doesn't seem fair. But two different lead singers are used and it totally changes the sound. (For the record I like both singers.) Also, it's my list and I can do whatever the fuck I want. Deal with it.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Monday, July 18, 2011

Knock knock, it's the ghetto

I live in a nice neighborhood where people are friendly, and everyone waves, the kids play in the street and move when they see your car coming. It’s all very quaint to be honest. But the ghetto is moving in, and I’m not down with that.
I live in an apartment complex in the burbs of Chicago. For the past three years of living there I’ve gotten along with my neighbors, or at least the ones I’ve met.  When we see each other we smile or say hello, and in winter we help dig each other out of snow drifts. It’s just the neighborly thing to do. Recently though two neighbors moved out and left their apartments empty for a few months. Then the ghetto came knocking.
First Smoking Girl moved in downstairs. She’s very emo and thinks her life is tragic. She spends her time sitting on the stairs smoking a pack a day and crying to her mom/friends/grandma that her life is terrible and she’s not sure why she moved here. She leaves her ashes and cigarette butts on the stairs, because she doesn’t have to walk through it so why should she care? I have asked her politely to knock that shit off, and it was greeted with a smile and then ignored. I now glare and take pictures to present as evidence to the apartment complex, and I no longer care if it’s neighborly if I try and get her kicked out.

As if Smoking Girl wasn’t enough, a cute young couple moved in directly below my apartment. It started off great until I was woken up in the middle of the night by their boxer who barks like it’s his job. They let that thing roam around without a leash, and never shush it. It barks at everything, and I mean fucking everything.
Just the other night the boxer got out of their patio (not like it’s hard since they’re using an old wood baby gate to hold in a giant boxer) and it started barking at a baby in a stroller. Now I won’t go into why the mom had the baby out at nine o’clock at night, that’s another post about moms who drag their babies out at inappropriate times. But the dog was barking hello to the baby in the baby’s face, which caused baby wails to wake the whole block up. What do the owners of the boxer do? Get upset with the mom. Apparently the baby provoked the dog. A BABY provoked the DOG. Are you kidding me?! I was hoping for an all out brawl, but it ended with screams and storming off in opposite directions.
The baby gate meant to hold in a boxer:

So my once peaceful, clean, quaint neighborhood is slowly turning into the ghetto. I feel like I should carry a piece and add a little swagger to my walk. Or I could start looking at buying a place again. Perhaps this is the sign I needed to get me motivated to look again.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

As promised, drunken adventures

Last night was Old St Pat's Block Party. Food, drinks, and music. We saw Cobra Starship and the Plain White T's. There were other bands, but we were too busy finding the booze to notice them.

We managed to get ZERO photos of Cobra Starship because we were too busy dancing, drinking, and scoping out hot guys. (There weren't many.) But we did manage to get some photos of the Plain White T's. I wish I could tell you these photos are blurry because we were dancing (flailing), but that's not why. I was just DRUNK.


Yes, I was double fisting the wine. Red and white wine. 
Because drinking wine in a plastic Miller Lite cup is CLASSY.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Forgive me father, I'm about to sin

Today started off with about four hours of sleep, followed by insomnia, followed by a mouthful of soured milk, followed by puking, followed by having to go to work. I KNOW RIGHT.

But today is Beer Friday at work, and THAT is followed by Old St Pat's Block Party. You gotta love a church that throws the world's largest block party and serves you beer! With rockstars!

At least two out of three things are going to happen tonight:

1. I'm gettin' drunk
2. I'm gettin' a hot guy's number
3. I'm gettin' rowdy

I'll post pictures if I'm not too drunk, distracted, or in jail.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Mamas, put your babies to bed

For those who know me, you know I love babies. I also like giving them back to their parents when they cry, poop, or make that angry face that leads to crying or pooping. But what gets me all Fight For Babies Rights is when soccer moms in training take their babies out in public at inappropriate times of night.

Back in the day I worked at Williams-Sonoma as a retail whore pimping kitchen aids and culinary tools to anyone who looked capable of wielding a knife or lime juicer. Often times I would be prepping for the store close at quarter to nine, or later in the holiday season, and some asshole mom would come rushing in with baby in a stoller. The kid would be screaming his bald little head off because he's about two hours past his bedtime, and he's also now surrounded by packages of lacy underwear and jewelry mom just had to have to make up for popping a kid out.

Mom would be all distraught because baby won't stop crying, and she's trying to suck down a venti soy sugar free vanilla latte while perusing the new line of waffle makers. First off, it's cute that she thinks she'll be making waffles herself. She can't even put her kid to bed on time. Do you really think she's waking up early to make breakfast for the family? She's currently wearing yoga pants for fashion so everyone can see how firm her butt is growing with the help of that personal trainer she wants to diddle.

Secondly, go put your baby to bed you ignorant selfish waif of a woman. You had a kid so you'd have an accessory to walk around with. Your kid is like a purse dog, but cries more. Half the time you're ignoring the thing, and the other half you're acting like your whole life is tragic because your kid won't stop crying at the mall. You made your kid cry when you stopped caring for it.

I know I sound all self righteous and smug because I don't have a kid and therefore I must not know what it's like. I call bullshit. I don't need to make a baby to know that a kid needs sleep, and not in a stroller at the mall. I've been around plenty of new baby mammas to know that your time gets sucked away like a giant baby vacuum is constantly running the clock dry. But that's no excuse to take your baby out at night for a quick shopping spree. And don't give me that bullshit that you're mall walking to burn off the baby weight. It's not mall walking if you stop every time you see a new halter top you just have to try on.

Mamas, go put your babies to bed!

Monday, July 11, 2011

Vinyl records aren't for scratching

Mock me if you must, but I always have been and always will be a lover of vinyl records. It's not just the throw back to my childhood that keeps me playing them. It's because the sound is simply better, and disagreeing with me is bullshit. Oh, I'm just kidding. But here's my argument for how vinyl rocks:

  • vinyl records have a raw sound to them, much like live music, and give you that concert in your living room feeling. much to the chagrin of my asshole neighbors. shut your dog up and I'll shut my impromptu concert up. (I'm SO mature.)
  • good vinyl records don't contain artists who use auto-tuners, and auto-tuners are bullshit.
  • cds are recorded with snapshots of analog sound then converted to digital sound, but the snapshots are limited and therefore cds can often miss small bits of the music. why would you want only most of the song instead of all of it? think about THAT.
  • if you were born in the 90's you're too young to remember true vinyl records, and you're probably too young to be reading this blog. chances are if you own vinyl you're using it for wall decorations in your dorm room and don't actually own a record player. you make me sad. 
  • every time I get a new vinyl record I'm instantly transformed into my five year old self pulling a new record off the shelf and discovering what new worlds await me. 
  • my Denon DP-300F produces a smoother sound than any other music player I own. 
  • there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING, better than flipping through bin after bin of vinyl in a record store. there are a million treasures out there waiting to be discovered by people like me. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have new records to listen to.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

These are the bands of my youth

My musical tastes are quite eclectic, and people often scoff when I say that. But I've lived so many places, and been introduced to so many different music styles, that I truly have picked up an eclectic collection.

My life told entirely by major music influences.
(Some may surprise you, as they were surprising to me when I reflected back.)

Ages 0-8 (The Early Years)
Ricky Nelson
Michael Jackson
Beach Boys
Dolly Parton
Ritchie Valens
New Order
Soft Cell
Culture Club
The Go-Go's

Ages 9-13 (The Transition Years)
The Beastie Boys
The Ramones
The Rolling Stones
The Kinks
The Smiths
The Cure
Bob Dylan
Depeche Mode
The Doors

Ages 14-16 (The High School Years, aka The Iowa Years)
Barenaked Ladies
Tori Amos
The Cranberries
Garth Brooks
John Mellencamp
Tom Petty (and the Heartbreakers)
Nine Inch Nails
Savage Garden
Sonic Youth
Skid Row

Ages 17-20 (The College Years, aka The Angry Girl Years)
Ani DiFranco
Buddy Holly
Dave Matthews
James Brown
Jill Sobule
The Violent Femmes
Liz Phair
Natalie Merchant
They Might Be Giants
Pink Floyd
Smash Mouth
Soul Coughing
Vonda Shepard
Green Day

Ages 21-23 (The Detroit Years)
Will Smith
Foo Fighters
Lauren Hill
Led Zeppelin

Ages 24-32 (The Recent to Now Years)
All Time Low
Cage the Elephant
All-American Rejects
Plain White T's
Dandy Warhols
Death Cab for Cutie
Fall Out Boy
The Scissors
The Killers
Jack Johnson
Kill Hannah
Mumford & Sons
The Script
The Shins
Neon Trees
The Strokes
Snow Patrol
Lily Allen

It should be noted that these are listed by when they were fully introduced into my life. Not by the length of how long they stayed. With the exception of the country music, most everything stayed in my life. (Though I'm not opposed to country music if the bar has a mechanical bull, because COME ON. I would listen to anything to see drunk fools ride the bull.)

There are many, many other bands not listed that probably should be. I listed primarily the bands that bring back memories of the time. I can clearly recall singing "18 and Life" in high school, and thinking that my life was so tragic for a 16 year old. I can picture myself belting out "Foolish Games" in the car on college road trips. My first real concert was Michael Jackson when I was 8. So many good memories of my life are tied into musical references. And for that I am grateful.

Notably missing are the amazing jazz and blues musicians that have been a constant in my life from day one. There are so many greats that have come into my life, and they're probably worth their own post. In fact, most of my vinyl collection is jazz and blues and it's my favorite thing to put on when unwinding after a long day.

PS. I'm always looking for new music so feel free to comment or message me new bands/songs to check out. I frickin' love music.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Where’s the peanut butter?

A long ass time ago, in another office, my desk was situated in such a location that every employee walked by me at least twice a day. They had to; I was right next to the door. This would have been a great place for the receptionist, but alas, that was not my job. Our receptionist was actually located a half floor up from us, because the architects thought it would be fun that way. So everyone who came in walked past her, down the stairs, and then past me.
In the four years that I sat in that desk I had a lot of really dumb questions asked of me. For some reason people thought I was Wikipedia just because of where I sat. But nothing tops the peanut butter guy. He was a young pup fresh out of college. He was dumb as a rock. He came running up to me from across the entire fucking office to ask me where the peanut butter was. He actually left the kitchen, and passed about 100 people before reaching my desk, to ask where the peanut butter was.
“Try the kitchen.”
“I couldn’t find it.”
“Did you open the cabinets?”
“The cabinets aren’t labeled. Which one do I open?”
“I don’t fucking care. I’m not your mom. Please go find your own peanut butter.” (something I never thought I would ever say to anyone)
So, boys and girls, if I ever ask you “Where’s the peanut butter?” it’s probably because you just asked me a dumb ass question, and that’s my way of mocking you. Don’t be the peanut butter dude. 

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Mistakes that led to greatness

Things I should have thought about this weekend, and yet didn't until now.

  • I shouldn't have champagne for breakfast
  • I shouldn't attempt to eat a helmet of nachos by myself
  • I shouldn't chase this accidental jalapeno with beer
  • I shouldn't let this stranger sitting in front of us buy us beer
  • I shouldn't eat this box of donuts for breakfast
  • I shouldn't sit outside without sunblock
  • I shouldn't eat chips and bean dip for dinner

I am a ROCKSTAR. And I am full of the cheese. Nacho cheese.


Current Dance Party: