A note about comments. I love them, because I love hearing from you. Also, I just switched over my commenting to a new system. Older post comments might not be in the correct order, which means my replies are all jacked up. But I like the new system so whatever.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Brick, Part Eleventy-twelve

Ok it's been awhile, but I've had several requests for more Brick stories. Not that I can blame people. This shit is funny (now). So here's a little teaser story. Because I'm an asshole like that.

You can find all the other stories here. Because, oh yeah, she has her own label now for easy searches.

The Move Out

When Brick moved out she didn't go quietly. Of course not. Why would you expect anything less than a drama filled disaster. She started by packing her shit up randomly in odd containers that slowly resembled a fort surrounding her seat on the couch. (Yes, much like Sheldon on BBT she had her seat and no one else could sit there. I know. I'm thinking it too.) The fort slowly grew into the Wall of China that snaked into the kitchen and eventually the bathroom. Because who needs to eat or poop in the comfort of their own home? (Not girls, because girls don't poop. Ever.)

Her packing skills were never going to win her any awards. You know, if they gave awards for that kind of thing. Which they might. In Alaska. Because what else is there to do in Alaska?

Box #1 Example:
bed sheets, curling iron, books, canned goods

Box #2 Example:
tampons, toilet paper, all my spoons (that had to be rescued)

Box #3 Example:
books, one lone pot lid (also mine, rescued), frozen peas

Yes. Frozen peas. In a box. Because obviously.

I tried to be a good person and rescue all the fridge/frozen goods from either spoiling or ruining her things. Sometimes she noticed. Sometimes she repacked them, eight days in advance. Because frozen peas will totally keep in rubbermaid for a week sitting next to the heater. Right guys?

I also had to keep rescuing all of my shit that she kept packing and insisting was hers. There's the spoons, that she insisted did not come with the rest of my silverware. Natch. She took the spatulas, and I pray it was for dirty uses because that would be way funnier. All of my hand towels, but not my bath towels, were packed then rescued. Half of my cd collection walked out the door with her (sadly discovered way too late), and if you know me then you know that's a lot of fucking music. But the best one? A few of my bras. She wanted to borrow them to wrap her little figurines in so they wouldn't break. She was planning on returning them eventually.

One thing I failed to mention in my previous story about her move out date (oh how the mind plays tricks on you with age) is that when I said JC and I were prepping for a Halloween Party, we were actually making jello shots to put on dry ice (for the spooky effect, yes I'm that girl). After Brick announced the sad news that she wouldn't make it to the party she wasn't invited to, JC fell to the floor laughing so hard at my happy dance (remind me to show you that dance sometime) that jello went everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. My apologies to the tenants who moved in after me.


I still fear she'll discover these posts, hunt me down, and kill me in my sleep with my own knife that she probably stole with my cds.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Chug, chug, chug

Reasons I Get Invited to Black Tie Events:

After enjoying a delicious beef tenderloin I loudly declared "I never thought I could enjoy meat that bleeds but that was tasty"

I tried to win a $200 bottle of bourbon and a Blackhawks hockey stick in the silent auction because "they totes go together you guys!"

"If we get Dawn drunk enough I think she'll buy the Paris trip and invite us all"

Husband: What are those little rooms for?
Wife: I think those are phone rooms.
Me: Those are sex booths.

"Excuse me miss. You can't take that champagne glass out of the room."
Chug chug chug.

"Miss, would you like white or red wine?"
"Both please."

"Dawn, do you have two glasses of wine and champagne?"
"I like variety."

I MAY have hugged my dinner plate for warmth. It was freakishly cold at the Ritz, and the plate was delivered toasty warm. The waiter MAY have had to ask me to put the plate down so he could serve me. At least I didn't put it up my skirt. Right?

PS. Last night's charity event for Special Olympics was rockin'. I did not get kicked out. I did not win the bourbon OR the hockey stick. I did win a kickin' gift for my nephew, but I can't tell you what it is. He might be only one year old, but maybe he's a savant and I don't want to ruin the surprise. So instead I'll leave you with this extreme close up to enjoy.

PPS. You should all be grateful that I did not try to win the Hip Hop DJ for a day package. Because I would totes make you all listen to me if I had won.

PPPS. I have a stabby wound at the base of my left thumb, and I think there's something embedded in it. I have no idea how that happened (cough, wine, cough) but it hurts like a mo'fo'. 

Saturday, October 29, 2011

No Es Bueno

Dear Comcast,

You and me? We've never seen eye to eye. But I'm stuck with you because you own this section of town. I've patiently put up with your quirks, your outages, and your shitty customer service. All in the name of the Food Network.

But now? You've crossed the line. No matter what channel I select, you show me the same Spanish channel. I have nothing against the Spanish channel, EXCEPT THAT I DON'T SPEAK SPANISH.

I wish I knew how to quit you.


Friday, October 28, 2011

Red Writing Hood: Athleticism

This is a prompt from Write on Edge, Red Writing Hood.
Some people consider themselves athletes. Others do not. Write a piece of fiction or creative non-fiction in which athleticism features prominently. Use the photograph for inspiration.

Let's try 400 words or less, please.

I consider myself extremely lucky to be in the position to work with what I believe to be one of the most rewarding philanthropic organizations in Illinois. For three years running I have helped organize a corporate sponsorship of the Special Olympics Illinois Inspire Greatness Gala. This gala directly benefits the Olympic Games throughout the year.

I have had the pleasure of dining with the Olympic Athletes, and the emotions you feel after spending time with them is overwhelming. You see, most sports programs are built for only the fastest, strongest, most competitive students. They are aggressive, and can be quite intimidating. When I was a wee tot (ok fine, a teenager) I was afraid of the ball flying at my face. I was afraid of the pressures from the coaches. I was afraid of failing. So I never played the traditional sports. I ran track until my knee gave out, and I was a cheerleader. But I was not competitive by nature. I did not consider myself to be an athlete.

The Special Olympics gives students a chance to excel at their own pace, and in their own way. They teach the students teamwork, and good sportsmanship. The games are a bonding opportunity as much as they are a competition. The athletes are smart, and beautiful, and funny, oh do they tell the best anecdotes. But they were given a body that doesn’t always move as fast, doesn’t always coordinate in the right ways, and doesn’t always do what you want of it. And yet they never let that stop them from being an athlete.

Oh how I wish I had met one of the athletes when I was a teen. I would have accepted myself for who I was (clumsy), and I would have felt that I was good enough. Because when I was a teen? There were athletes, and then there was me (seriously clumsy). But the Special Olympics has taught me that I too am an athlete, to the best of MY ability.

Tomorrow I’m attending the Special Olympics Illinois Inspire Greatness Gala as a sponsor, and I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am. Plus I get to wear a fancy dress and big cocktail rings, which is pretty awesome too.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

It's Like This And Like That And Like This And Uh

Ok, you know what drives me absolutely batty? When you hear a song on the radio and you're all "hey I know that song" and then you start to sing it, but then it turns out to be the wrong song. That's when you realize that music is so redone, just like movies are remade every five minutes (umm, hello Footloose and Dirty Dancing).

So there's this (2006):

And then there's this (2011):

They aren't an exact match, clearly, but you get the gist of it if you listened long enough for the lyrics to kick in. Also, the whistling kicks in towards the end of Pumped Up Kicks, but it's there. There are many similarities between the songs. It was noticed at a wedding this past weekend:

Hey, I like this song, Pumped Up Kicks.

No it isn't. I don't know what this is. Hang on, lemme pull up this fancy program on my smart phone.

BEEP BOOP BOP. (smart phone making magic)

Oh looky there. It's a song called Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John. Who the f*ck are they?

Who cares? Now I'm all furious george because I only like Pumped Up Kicks because I've already freakin' heard it before. It's like that song that sounds just like Lust For Life that drives me insane every goddamn time it comes on the radio.

So does this get me out of dancing?


Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Wordless Wednesday - West End

For tons more Wordless Wednesdays click here.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

I Thee Wed

I went to a beautiful wedding this past weekend. One of my dear friends I've known since college married the love of his life. He got all choked up reading his vows, and I almost cried it was so sweet. But did I manage to get any photos of this magical evening? NOPE.

I got one picture at the wedding. 

Anyone surprised? You shouldn't be.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Working the Stamp Machine

Hey. How much does mailing a letter cost these days?

$0.44. What are you mailing?

Stuff. Hey. How does this stamp machine work?

I don't know. It can't be that hard. Press that button. No, not that one. Shit, what just happened? Is there a back button? Why is it beeping? Try that button. WAIT. Ok, try it again.

Ok, I got this. BOOM. Shit. Nothing happened. Try that button. OOH, something just happened.

It's working! Quick, put the envelope through before it changes its mind!

Dude. We're totally like MacGyver.

Totally. We should get a bonus for this.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

You'd Think They'd Know Better




(I can't believe friends still invite me to this stuff.)

Friday, October 21, 2011

Wrong Way Asshole

If I was the voice on GPS I would tell it like it is.

"In 300 feet turn right.   (pause)    I said right. What is WRONG with you? You went left, but I said right. You're on your own now buddy."

"In 3 miles turn left at the green barn. (pause) The green barn with the roof half missing. You can't miss it. There's a cow painted on the side.  (pause)  But it's faded, so don't bother stopping for a photo.  (pause)  NOW, turn left NOW."

"In 300 feet turn left, then take off your pants." (Wait, what? How did that one get in there?)

"Drive 65 miles on US Highway 88. Drive past corn fields. More corn fields than you could ever imagine. Just when you're losing your mind and think you see children seeping out of the corn fields, you are almost there. (pause) Keep driving. You still have 55 miles of corn fields to go."

"Wrong way asshole. Back that ass up and drive down a different street."

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Fear Becomes Us

Heart Pounding. Head spinning. I can hear his breath from the darkness beyond. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. I turn to run and he’s there.


This is a Red Writing Hood prompt from Write on Edge. I had 160 characters to work with to tell a story that elicits fear. This is my second attempt at writing a focused story in a long time. Hopefully I'm getting the hang of it? Thanks for reading.

Saving Lives and Shit

I put the FUN in Cardiopulmonary Resus-oh-never-mind.

I just want to start out by saying I ACED the CPR test. 97% BABY! I'm like a genius or something. I am a life saving ROCKSTAR. HIGH FIVES ALL AROUND.

So Tuesday was the online test and Wednesday was the in person second half of the class. With dummies. I KNOW. I was excited too.

I got my very own dummy to play with. I mean save. I named him Jean-Pierre and I gave him a french accent.

And now to clear up a few things about what not to say in CPR class. (This is based on the less than stellar response from the instructors who probably regretted showing up for work this day.)

It was not my fault that I giggled every time you told me to blow into his mouth hole. Stop saying mouth hole and we wouldn't have this problem.

Regarding Good Samaritan Laws: "Hypothetically speaking, if the area appears safe, but you happen to know that bears and lions are roaming the streets, are you allowed to drag your victim to the nearest shelter? (pause) WHAT? It happened in Ohio!"

"So what you're saying is, if a person can talk to you, you shouldn't throw them to the ground and start CPR because they'll get pissed?"

"So when you say remove all clothing and jewelry from their chest area, do you mean nipple rings too?"*

"If I'm too tired to do CPR can I just shock them instead?" "Yes." "Wait. Really?! That's totally awesome!"

"Miss, please stop touching the victim." (said to me of course)

"If the person wakes up, can I shock them again? You know, in case."

"Dude, I'm totally clean if you ever see me in the street and I need saving but you have no mouth guard." "No fucking way. I know where you've been."

"My boobies are kinda in the way, but try not to grope me when you save me."

Also? I am aware that the ABC's of CPR are not actually Airway, Breathing, Circumcision. But a girl likes to know these things, and it seems like an opportune time to check out the goods. Besides, Jean-Pierre is empty down there anyway, so it's not like he would care. Right?

*For the record, you do not have to remove nipple rings for CPR. 

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Conversations with Coworkers

"I have mastered the art of not touching strangers."

"Is that usually a problem?"

"Wait. What?"

Wordless Wednesday - Industrial

*green filter*

For additional Wordless Wednesdays go here.

*per Cheryl's note I lightened it a bit to see the contrast. I like it. 

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Conversations With Friends

"My wardrobe choices can be summed up in two questions: 
Have I done laundry? Did I shave my legs?"

"That's ambitious. I settle for:
Does this smell funny?"


Monday, October 17, 2011

Define Normal

Ok seriously? You people have no idea. You just can't make this shit up.

Sunday, October 16th

8:00am: Roll out of bed, take a shower, get dressed
9:00am: Realize I'm already running late and make a mad dash for the door, where did the time go?
9:05am: Drive past a lady waiting at the curb with luggage, attempt to not splash her with puddles from the rain
9:06am: Text friend I'm on my way but will likely get lost because GPS doesn't know exactly where the Arboretum is
9:15am: Realize I have forgotten the birthday gift for the birthday boy (2 year old) and make an illegal u-turn to head back home
9:25am: Pass by same woman still waiting to be picked up
9:26am: Open the door to grab the gift, chase after cat who has sneakily escaped, shove cat back inside
9:28am: Pass by same woman STILL WAITING
9:55am: Miss my exit because I'm too busy belting out an Adele song on the radio, freak out because GPS is recalculating and taking too long
10:20am: Arrive safely at the Arboretum only about 20 minutes late

10:25am to 1:00pm:
Birthday boy has cake, opens presents, makes pumpkin face crafts, and has a blast. Snippets of conversation from the older kids:

"What do you like about going to school?" "You get to use the urinals!"

(wielding a toy gun) "I'm gonna shoot you in the balls!""I don't have balls" "WHAT?!"

(to the adults sitting on the table) "The sign says don't sit on the tables. You guys are bad news!"

(holding a squishy toy eyeball) "Is this my eyeball? Or yours?"

Hold a conversation with a friend of a friend about living with severe allergies (me, and her son), forget to exchange contact info and have to text friend to send an email (re)introduction.

1:00pm: Stick around to explore the Arboretum, which is amazing and beautiful, and I think I want my birthday to be there next year

1:30pm: Realize my entire body is itching and swelling and I want to claw my skin off, decide my allergies have had enough and hug my goodbyes

It's hard to tell, but those are hives

2:15pm: Arrive at home to discover my fridge isn't working, and probably hasn't been since yesterday. All the beer is warm and skunked, the ice cream is melted, and the milk is curdled. Call maintenance to come look
2:30pm: Maintenance shows up, confirms fridge is a lost cause, schedules delivery of a new fridge for tomorrow
2:35pm: Move beer to bathroom so I can wash my hair in it later, no sense in completely wasting it
2:36pm: Mourn over the loss of the ice cream wasted, then start cleaning out the fridge and freezer
3:30pm: Realize I'm running late for my hair appointment, seriously how do I keep doing this?
3:40pm: Pull over to the side of the road to puke (chronic hives sometimes does that to me)
4:00pm: Discover my stylist isn't ready for another 20 minutes, head to Starbucks to fill time. Order a grande nonfat french vanilla latte and chocolate chip banana cake. (What? You thought puking would prevent this? Clearly you don't know me then.) Read the nutritional guide and instantly regret reading it.
4:20pm: Get haircut (I absolutely love getting my hair washed and cut)
5:20pm: Drive home with the intention of eating a light dinner then heading over to watch the Bears game with friends
9:35pm: Wake up from a nap (apparently) and discover that I have missed the opportunity to watch the game with friends (Sorry R, C, and everyone else who was there!)
9:36pm: Crawl into bed and fall back asleep
9:40pm: Realize I'm still wearing jeans, change into jammies, crawl back into bed
9:41pm: Realize that by doing this I now can't fall back asleep...

And that's a normal day for me.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Brains. Moar Brains.

It all started with one question.

"YOU. Would you consider joining Band Back Together as one of the Brains Behind the Band?"

My first reaction? A resounding YES. My second reaction? With what time? I have to schedule time to sleep, breathe, and pee. When will I have time to volunteer? Oh sweet bajezzus I think I'm going to say yes anyway."

And I did. And I have no regrets. I don't know what my role is yet. I don't know where I'll find the time. What I do know is that I am excited to be a part of this amazing community, and I hope you'll join me on the journey.

I've written about the Band before, and I'll be writing about them again. The Band is part of my family, and so are you. So let's all get together for that family summer picnic mmkay? You know the one. Where Grandma pees herself, Uncle Bob complains about what's wrong with the youth of today, and cousin Sally drinks til she pukes in the bushes. What? Your family doesn't do that? Odd.

So yeah, if you haven't checked out Band Back Together, now's a great time. As I said before:

We're The Band. We're a group blog. We write about the stuff no one else does. We break down stigmas, support each other, kick ass and take names. Join us.

Think about how many FREE concerts you might get into with this KICKIN' shirt!

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Wake The F*ck Up

This is my "I'm at work on a Saturday at 7am and running on three hours of sleep so I'm tired as f*ck, let's get pumped up" playlist. Enjoy.

Pumped Up Kicks, Foster the People

Hate I Really Don't Like You, Plain White T's

Let's Go, Scissors

Ch-Check It Out, Beastie Boys

Boom Boom Pow, Black Eyed Peas

The City is at War, Cobra Starship

Lose Yourself, Eminem

Don't Shut Em Down, Flogging Molly

American Idiot, Green Day

Under the Gun, The Killers

When I Grow Up, The Pussycat Dolls

That's Not My Name, The Ting Tings

Try not to judge me too harshly. IT'S 7AM ON A SATURDAY AND I'M AT WORK. Now where's the coffee? BRB...

Friday, October 14, 2011

Mark of the Soul

To every up there is a down. To every wrong there is a right.

Some people view my tattoo as rebellious ink. Some find it trashy. Sexy. Unique.

I see my tattoo as art. A beautiful reminder of that which I can overcome. I carefully chose its design to represent how my soul feels. And I chose its location so that I could be reminded daily.

The tree of life tells us that for every negative in our lives, we can balance with positive. Every time we feel sad, happy can be on the horizon. I wear my tree with pride, because it reminds me that everything comes full circle with time. With age a tree grows deep roots to keep itself grounded, branches to spread its wings, and flowers to blossom into beauty.

This is me. This ink is a part of me. It represents where I've been, where I am, and where I'm headed. It holds my pain, my joys, and my sorrows. I have no regrets in marking my body. I didn't choose this body, but I can certainly choose how to maintain it, and I decorate it with pride.

I love my body. I love my ink. I love myself.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Your Magic is Broken

At work we have this giant magical fridge that holds every soda currently in production. It has a pretty glass door on front like in grocery stores, or seedy bars. You can peruse the selection before opening the door and letting the deep freeze cold air out.

SHUT UP. I know I'm spoiled at work with all my soda and coffee and cereal perks. And I'm sorry for rubbing it in. But this is IMPORTANT. I promise. You won't regret it, except maybe a little.

So this fridge is magical because it is always full. Or mostly full if I get there late in the lunch game. I know exactly which shelf and on which side of the fridge (oh did I mention it's a double wide?) that my Diet 7up is located. You shut your mouth about my drink of choice! I like the taste. Mostly.

So today I go through my usual routine of grabbing my lunch then heading to the magical fridge for my drink. BUT ALAS. There is an empty space where the two rows of roughly 16 Diet 7ups should be. I peer into the abyss to the back of the fridge and see one last lonely drink. It calls to me. I reach my entire freaking arm into the back, and just before I grab my drink I DISCOVER NARNIA.

What? Hoping for something better? It was either Narnia or an A-Ha video

Now my arm is too cold to do anything. Stupid deep freeze cold fridge. YOUR MAGIC IS BROKEN. Don't call me until you are full again.

Walking the dog

Dear guy texting on your phone,

Perhaps you are not aware of this but your dog is vigorously humping the shit out of your leg. Unless you are sexting a Victoria's Secret model, nothing is so interesting that you wouldn't notice a terrier humping your leg like he's the last dog on earth. You're not even distractedly trying to shake him off. What's up with that? Do you let him do this often? I wonder what would happen if we took a black light to your pants. Oh hey, hi guy, thanks for looking up. Yeah, that's your dog jack hammering into your calf. I see you aren't going to let him finish now. Good luck with that.

In awe,

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Wordless Wednesday - Doing Time

For additional Wordless Wednesdays go here.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Men in Tights (er , pants)

I am fascinated by watching baseball. When I was a wee little one my dad had me collecting baseball cards when I was still shoving them in my mouth to see if they would fit. Then after being caught in the act with what could have been a collector's card, I was promoted to watching games with his colorful commentary. That's probably where I learned to heckle people.

"Hey lady with the big hat. No one can see the movie thanks to the bird's nest resting on top of that noggin of yours. What's that? You're not wearing a hat? Oh my gawd. Could you throw a coke on your head and wet that mess down? I'm missing the movie." (way better if you imagine a Boston accent) (not really. still dumb)

My dad was a Cardinals fan, and sometimes Yankees fan too. I chose the road less taken and became a Twins fan. WELL SOMEONE HAD TO LIKE THEM. That lasted all through high school, but I never really felt a connection to them. Makes sense since I didn't live anywhere near them.

In college my friend Dustin turned me into a Red Sox fan. He made me watch the games with him, he'd call me at work with the play-by-play, and he even forced me to go to Boston with him to see Fenway. And by forced, I literally mean he flew to Connecticut by way of Boston just so we had to drive up, pick him up, and oh while we're there why don't we swing by and see Fenway. Sneaky little bastard.

So I have mad love for the Red Sox, but again, I don't live anywhere near them. So I still don't feel a real connection to them. When I moved to Chicago I was told I had to choose. Cubs vs. White Sox. It was kind of a no brainer. I was already a Red Sox fan, so White Sox would be rivals. And the Cubs shared the curse with the Red Sox. So I started going to Cubs games, and watching them when the Red Sox weren't on, and I began a love affair with my dear Cubbies.

Of course, having lived in Detroit while having family there as well, I also have some love for the Tigers. In fact, I'm watching them beat Texas right now, and it warms my little heart up to see them kicking ass after so many bad years of late.

So I guess I just love baseball. I mean, it has everything you need. Heckling, beer, hotdogs, nachos, and men in tight little pants. I call that a win.

Conversations With Friends


For all of those Star Wars cookies you've been making with your cookie cutters.....

Holy crap

Can you imagine how many cookies will fit in that baby.

I'll build an army of Yodas to fill it.

Fine.  I'll make some Darth Vaders to break your Yodas.

That seems fair. When?

Right after I finish my giant sandwich and then take a nap.


Monday, October 10, 2011

Taste the F*cking Rainbow

I'm sorry skittles fans, but this is not about skittles. I KNOW. I'm so misleading it's terrible. It's like I don't even care about media slogans and their affect on people. Now you're all craving skittles and getting all itchy in the spine thinking about the fact that you DO NOT have skittles in your hand at this very moment. For that I am sorry. I totally owe you one.

But, seriously? I have a problem, and its name is Candy Corn. I know what will happen, I make efforts to avoid what could will happen, and yet every year it's the same scenario.

I will eat my weight in candy corn.

It starts off all innocent at first. "Oh look, candy corn. Is it that time of year already? Oh how I love Halloween and the gobs of candy that I will choke down like a rabid hungry dog."

It slowly progresses to slight obsession. "I'll just eat one handful and then put the bag away. Or maybe two smallish handfuls. Or maybe I should finish the bag so the candy doesn't go stale. No one wants to waste candy because it's stale. Or chip a tooth. Or something. Anything."

Then we hit full on stalker/disgruntled ex-girlfriend/why don't you love me stage where I eat my weight in candy corn which threatens to send me into a diabetic coma of sugary goodness. It's this stage where I can't NOT eat the candy corn. I can't say no to it. My stomach retches, my teeth hurt, and at some point I fear puking yellow and orange stomach acids from the sheer volume of candy corn that has been consumed. It's a rainbow of gross, and yet I keep going.

And for those of you thinking "Why don't you just NOT eat the candy corn to begin with?", you shut your mouth with those crazy thoughts. It is CANDY CORN SEASON people, and the candy corn must be eaten. It's the natural cycle of life. October = consumption of candy corn. BOOM.

Also? It's too late to turn back now...

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Conversations With Friends

"Wanna play Truth or Drink?"

"I thought it was Truth or Dare?"

"I'm too lazy to Dare."


Friday, October 7, 2011

The Dirty Clam

I love going to Shedd Aquarium. I always have, and honestly, I could go back once a month if I only had the time. I love watching the fish swim around. There's something cathartic about watching fish.

I usually start off with the otters, because they are so darn cute. Then I work my way across the oceanarium to give my hellos to the balugas, dolphins, and penguins. I'll wind through the Amazon to see the monkeys (yep, you read that right) and to make sure the anaconda is still in the tank. (WHAT?! It COULD get loose you know.)

I always spend some quality time with my favorite fish at Shedd, the Congo Pufferfish. I don't like all of them mind you, but this particular one. He sits on the bottom of the tank, and just stares at the glass with sad eyes. But sometimes, when I show up, he follows me across the glass as I walk by. And I swear to you he smiles.

But the real reason I love going to Shedd. The reason I take everyone who ever visits me?


Ladies! Kinda makes you feel like you've been to the gyno right?

No? How about a close up.

You're welcome.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Flower Power Extraordinaire

Dear Bathroom Air Freshener,

I find it offensive that you spray your flowery spritz every goddamn time I walk into the bathroom. I understand that you are built to spray on command when you sense movement. But really? Every time I walk into the bathroom? I drink a lot of water, and I do mean A LOT of water, so that means that I pee a lot too. But that doesn't mean I need you choking me to death with your over powering flower spritz.

I'm starting to develop a complex because of you. Do I need to start sniffing my armpits like a college freshman to see if my pits are clean? Do I need to keep a bottle of Febreeze around? Do I need to take a whore's bath in the sink because I'm sweating too much? I DON'T KNOW. You're making me question my hygiene, and that is so not cool. I AM A CLEAN PERSON.

How about we cool it on the number of sprays per day? Can we limit your flower power to maybe three times a day? Because if I get a UTI because I'm afraid of your attacks I'm gonna be so pissed. I might just rip you right off the wall and toss you in the rubbish bin. I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU. (I'm totally afraid.)


Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Wordless Wednesday - Mornings

For more Wordless Wednesday pics go here.

Screeching Banshee?

Have you heard the new Gym Class Heroes song with Adam Levine? It's called Stereo Hearts. I thought I would hate it. I actually like Gym Class Heroes, so it's not about them. And I don't mind some of the Maroon 5 songs either. It's Adam Levine's sickly sweet high notes that crawl under my skin. And he belts them out at the beginning of Stereo Hearts. But, and of course there's a but or I wouldn't be writing this, it actually works in this case.

I don't know if it's the instrumental background that matches his pitch in a way that calms my anger towards his banshee screech*. Or if it jumps into the beat fast enough that I quickly forget. At the thick of it, this song is a classic mix of pop/punk/rock that stands out against traditional pop, punk, or rock**.

Now you can disagree with me if you want. We're all entitled to our opinions (as much as I hate to admit that when it comes to music). But I emplore you to listen to the song, in its entirety, before casting judgement good or bad. I have no regrets about listening all the way through, even if my brain did scream "ACK, Adam Levine is like a dog whistle for people" at the beginning of the song.

Also? I kinda love this video. I think it's creative, which is rare these days. And? I love that bands still create videos even though MTV no longer stands for Music anything anymore. Thank you You Tube for carrying on with the music videos that warm my heart.

1:44 is my favorite visual

*Am I the only one who feels like the word screech should have a T in it somewhere? Or another H maybe? The word just looks wrong. But I looked it up several times just to make sure, and all the interwebs agree. Sigh.

**It should be noted that this is not my typical music choice, but I'm a big fan of mixing music genres. I like seeing where bands take their music by exploring new sounds and pushing their own limits. 

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

What's In A Name?

So I've been contemplating guest bloggers for some time now. Not that I have such a huge audience (about 5 point 3 to be exact) but because I just don't think I have that much to say. SHUT UP. I know I'm a loud mouth with plenty to say. I meant, I don't think you want to hear all of it.

So I've thought about it, and then I've put it off. Typical of me. Then a blogger friend posted on twitter about wanting to write about music, but that his blog wasn't really the place for it. Umm, I love music. See here, here, here, or anywhere really to see how much I love music. So I offered up to my friend Lance, of My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog, to write about music however he would like. In return, I would come up with a name for the guest blogging as well as decide if it would always be music themed or open themed.

I suck at decisions. So it's your turn to vote. Don't let me down. You can comment below, chat me on the Twitter, or DM me. Whatever you feel like. My ideas so far are kind of lackluster at best. So feel free to vote outside the box too. But keep it clean kids, or other bloggers won't want to guest post.

All media
Stream of Consciousness (read: open topic)

Dawnie's Corner
Time Out
The Pub Crawl
That's Not My Name (from the Ting Tings)
After Dark
Top Shelf Writing
The Hot Seat

I suck at naming things. Feel free to suggest better names than I've thought up. Sigh...

Horror Flick Porno?

You know what sucks? Coming home in the dark (which sucks in itself because it means I came home super crazy late from work) and the foyer light is out. So the only light is from either the moon, on a clear night, and the red glowing exit sign. Which means the foyer that I share with three other apartments looks like a murder scene from the worst horror flick you can think of. And any minute a chainsaw wielding crazy man wearing overalls will come running out from the shadows to chop my head off.

That or downstairs smoking girl will flick her cigarette at me, and I'll die of a heart attack in the lamest way possible.

Also? Sometimes when I come home and it's only slightly dark, and the light is out leaving just the glowy red exit sign, it looks a little bit 70s porno. You're jealous. I know.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Music Hoarder

I was recently challenged to list all the concerts I've ever been to. And while I am a music hoarder, I actually haven't been to that many concerts. Of course I thought that before I started listing them out. Then my brain caught up with my memory and I almost passed out with exhaustion. In my defense, many were actually from festivals.

The below concerts are in no particular order with the exception of the first and last one, which are of course the first and last one (as of this post). Easy right? Right.

You can judge me if you want, but do so gently. Again, many of these were at festivals and therefore checked out on a whim. A few were just opening numbers for other bands, but I suffered through their long sets so they get counted. Some I have no excuse for except my adventurous nature.

  1. Michael Jackson 
  2. Beach Boys (too many times, it's shameful)
  3. Beastie Boys (x2)
  4. Flogging Molly
  5. Explosions in the Sky
  6. Dale Earnhardt Jr Jr
  7. Cage the Elephant
  8. Arctic Monkeys
  9. Plain White T's (x2)
  10. Cobra Starship
  11. 7th Heaven
  12. The Bad Examples 
  13. Ralph Covert's Acoustic Army
  14. 50 Cent
  15. Missy Elliot
  16. Busta Rhymes
  17. Green Day
  18. The Killers
  19. Dogstar
  20. Tonic
  21. Travis
  22. The Go-Go's (x2)
  23. B52's
  24. ZZ Top
  25. Ted Nugent*
  26. Toad the Wet Sprocket
  27. Mike Federali 
  28. Beck
  29. Snow Patrol
  30. U2
  31. Jars of Clay (great story)
  32. Pixies
  33. Velvet Revolver
  34. Sonic Youth
  35. Juliette and the Licks
  36. Owen
  37. Garth Brooks
  38. John Michael Montgomery
  39. The Returnables
  40. The Dials
  41. English Beat
  42. Fetch
  43. Avocado Jungle Fuzz
  44. Abba cover band**
  45. Digital Underground
  46. The Black Crowes
  47. Foo Fighters
  48. The Wombats (is scheduled)
  49. The Postelles (is scheduled)

* Not by choice. I still have nightmares
** I can't recall the name of the cover band, but this is the exact moment that sealed in The Jenny's fate of being my friend forever. Seriously. Just ask her.

Also, I'm certain that I've forgotten some concerts. Primarily the college years when I was drunk at most of them. Anyone care to fill in those blanks? Anyone? No? You don't remember either? Ok.

Also, also, I'm not listing the multitude of jazz concerts I've been to. Mostly because I don't know a lot of the band names, and also because there are a fuckton of them. I've been to a lot of charity events with live jazz bands. I love jazz.

There might be a handful of country bands I've seen at various midwest rodeos. Yep, you read that right. I've been to many a rodeo. No I did not wear cowgirl boots you assholes. But I would look sweet in those boots and don't you argue otherwise!

Sunday, October 2, 2011


Last night I went to see Ferris Bueller's Day Off. It was the 25th anniversary, so Groupon (the sponsor for the event) decided to make a big stink of it the only way Chicago knows how: at Wrigley Field!

I have to admit, sitting on the grass at Wrigley was more exciting than watching the movie itself. I mean, I love Ferris Bueller, but I can watch that anytime. How often can I say that I've been on the grass at Wrigley? ONCE. It was awesome.

VERY IMPORTANT. I was very careful to NOT spill my beer on the field. Please note that for future misbehavings.

Waiting for it to get dark first.

 SEE!? On the grass!

 Save Ferris!

Saturday, October 1, 2011

All the wrong cracks?

With the sad news about REM breaking up (sigh...) it got me thinking about music. And instead of being all sappy about losing the soundtrack to my youth, I decided to get pumped up about new music I've recently discovered*.

Because new music is all shiny and pretty and sparkly like glitter. And who doesn't love that? (Ok, I hate glitter. But we're talking digital glitter, which is ok by me. Real glitter gets stuck in all the wrong cracks** and that's just no fun people. No fun at all.)

So without further ado, here's a song or five that I'm currently playing the f@ck out of on my iPod.

Caitlin Crosby, Flawz

The Drums, Money

The Postelles, 123 Stop

Boy and Bear, Fall at Your Feet

Hot Chelle Rae, Tonight Tonight

Disclaimer: when I say new music, I mean it's new to me. If you've already heard of it, WHY DIDN'T YOU SHARE WITH ME? (stomps away and pouts for a minute)

*Did anyone else just start humming Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People when you read that? Because I'm totally humming it now. Did I just rickroll myself? At least I like the song!

**Not that there are right cracks for something to get stuck in. There should be no getting things stuck in any cracks. For the record. 

Sharing Is Caring Yo


Current Dance Party: