Well, after consuming (in this particular order) a beer, two Mai Tai's, a jager bomb, two Long Island's, two more jager bombs, and three beers in the few hours leading up to the show, I DON'T FUCKING KNOW.
If someone held a gun to my head and told me to list three songs that they played or else I'd die, I'd be dead.
oh, and I woke up the next morning with no debit card and a busted phone. Busted because it fell in the toilet? I guess you'll never know, will you?
I'm getting too old for this kind of behavior. Plus! I wasted fifty bucks and missed what (I presume) was a great show.
Damn it all straight to hell.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
my fifteen minutes of fame. wasted.
If you're sitting around tonight and bored, go ahead and turn on PBS. The KT Tunstall concert I attended a while back is airing at 9:30pm.
Trisha and I were seated in the very front row and stood at the stage for a nice portion of the show. The people made us. This guy got on the stage pre-show and explained that it was being taped for a television concert series, blah blah. He then informed us that, because cameras would be ALL OVER THE PLACE, we had to smile alot and dance around and look excited and happy and in love with every second of it. It was terribly uncomfortable. So forced and awkward. I wish I'd known beforehand about the whole front row thing with cameras all up in my shit, I would have had a few (or 12) beers to loosen up.
Right now, sitting at your computer, turn on music if necessary and pretend that someone is filming you for television and start smiling and dancing. Try to look nonchalant and casually cool. Go ahead, try it.
So, if you have time to kill and want a good laugh, catch the video footage of me awkwardly dancing/shifting and singing along with a huge, fake, shit-eating grin on my face. Oh! Added bonus, there were moments when a large camera was so close to the side of my face that if I turned one centimeter to my left, I could have licked the lens clean.
(You should actually check out the concert anyway, she put on a really great show. Just point and laugh when I'm on camera.)
Trisha and I were seated in the very front row and stood at the stage for a nice portion of the show. The people made us. This guy got on the stage pre-show and explained that it was being taped for a television concert series, blah blah. He then informed us that, because cameras would be ALL OVER THE PLACE, we had to smile alot and dance around and look excited and happy and in love with every second of it. It was terribly uncomfortable. So forced and awkward. I wish I'd known beforehand about the whole front row thing with cameras all up in my shit, I would have had a few (or 12) beers to loosen up.
Right now, sitting at your computer, turn on music if necessary and pretend that someone is filming you for television and start smiling and dancing. Try to look nonchalant and casually cool. Go ahead, try it.
So, if you have time to kill and want a good laugh, catch the video footage of me awkwardly dancing/shifting and singing along with a huge, fake, shit-eating grin on my face. Oh! Added bonus, there were moments when a large camera was so close to the side of my face that if I turned one centimeter to my left, I could have licked the lens clean.
(You should actually check out the concert anyway, she put on a really great show. Just point and laugh when I'm on camera.)
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
weird, like Keanu Reeves weird.
Every spare moment of the past two months has found me here. Postcards From the Edge is a blog chronicling the around-the-world trek of a certain Jen and Jonno. I have no idea who these people are, but I have become completely engrossed in their adventure.
The blog features posts about their travels, gorgeous pictures and information about the couple and how they were able to put the whole thing together. It's so inspiring to see two young people, just like you and me, see an idea of this magnitude to fruition. Basically, they're my idols.
Between the posts and the pictures, my eyes get all teary and my gut gets tight. What I wouldn't give for the same experience. Check out the blog, I also have it linked to the right, you won't regret it. Inspiration is one click away.
This is the quote referenced as their reason for the trip:
"One of the gladdest moments of human life, methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands. Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, man feels once more happy."
-Sir Richard Burton
I mean, come on. How great.
So! Imagine my surprise when I received a comment from a "Jen" the other day and when I clicked on the homepage, it was the Jen from Postcards! In a completely non-raving lunatic kind of way, she's like a celebrity-type to me; out there doing this amazing thing while I'm idling through life in my cube. I was shocked that she somehow found her way to my blog. Oh, what a tangled web we weave.
Thanks, Jen, for the comment and sharing your adventure. How about I say it's inspiring one more time? Ok, there.
The blog features posts about their travels, gorgeous pictures and information about the couple and how they were able to put the whole thing together. It's so inspiring to see two young people, just like you and me, see an idea of this magnitude to fruition. Basically, they're my idols.
Between the posts and the pictures, my eyes get all teary and my gut gets tight. What I wouldn't give for the same experience. Check out the blog, I also have it linked to the right, you won't regret it. Inspiration is one click away.
This is the quote referenced as their reason for the trip:
"One of the gladdest moments of human life, methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands. Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, man feels once more happy."
-Sir Richard Burton
I mean, come on. How great.
So! Imagine my surprise when I received a comment from a "Jen" the other day and when I clicked on the homepage, it was the Jen from Postcards! In a completely non-raving lunatic kind of way, she's like a celebrity-type to me; out there doing this amazing thing while I'm idling through life in my cube. I was shocked that she somehow found her way to my blog. Oh, what a tangled web we weave.
Thanks, Jen, for the comment and sharing your adventure. How about I say it's inspiring one more time? Ok, there.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
more like laziness and sarcasm
I found myself with a sample of Mary Kay Private Spa Collection Embrace Happiness Moisture Lotion.
The directions on the tube of lube are as follows:
"Smooth on Embrace Happiness Moisture Lotion and feel energy and enthusiasm return."
Really? It's lotion. Spare me.
Frankly, I'm happy (and energetic! and enthused!) when lotion sticks to the task of softening the hands and smelling nice.
The directions on the tube of lube are as follows:
"Smooth on Embrace Happiness Moisture Lotion and feel energy and enthusiasm return."
Really? It's lotion. Spare me.
Frankly, I'm happy (and energetic! and enthused!) when lotion sticks to the task of softening the hands and smelling nice.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
untitled.
My mom was in her first year of college when she met Becky in a psychology class. One afternoon Becky's car wouldn't start so she asked my mom for a lift home. Backing out of the driveway, my mom drove her old-ass station wagon into a ditch. Out came Becky's brother to the rescue. That hero was my dad.
And the rest, they say, is history. Their first date was the next week, Valentine's Day. They were engaged the following year and married in November of 1979.
Both my mom and dad grew up in families with little money. There were no extravagances, just enough to get by. They promised to themselves that they would give to their children everything they had gone without.
Saying that I've lived a privileged life would be a gross understatement. Growing up, I never wanted for anything. I had new, nice clothes every spring and fall, went to the best catholic schools, lived in a beautiful home, got a new car when I was sixteen, and was surrounded by a close, loving, albeit partially insane, family.
The summer of 2001, my parents surprised my sister and I with a two week family vacation in Hawaii. For them, it was the realization of their dreams; they had made the life for themselves and their children that they always wanted. Things were good. Really good.
Then it all started to unravel. The full story is far too complex and personal and depressing to share with the world at large, so here's the super-abbreviated version.
Fall of 2001, my parents, along with millions of others, lost a huge chunk of their investments in the midst of the 9/11 aftermath and WorldCom bankruptcy. The WorldCom thing not only messed with their investments, it also had a trickle-down effect that caused the bankruptcy of the telecommunications company that my mom worked for. So then she lost her job. Finding a new job in the industry proved impossible, as the whole thing was a giant clusterfuck, leaving the people who had devoted their lives to careers in this field out in the cold.
We then entered the Legal Woes phase in the latter part of 2002 and most of 2003. I'm not touching that one with a ten foot pole, mostly because I detest anything to do with legal matters, but the bottom line of that whole shit show was that my family prevailed, save for the financial devastation such proceedings cause.
Oh! Then my dad, after putting in twenty-five years, had to leave his job for his own health and sanity. The company was going through a merger, and after a year of ulcer-inducing 14-16 hour days, with no end or assistance in sight, he had to get out. He looked terrible. He had taken up smoking for the first time in his life, his hair line had receded an extra two inches and the gray took over. The company gave him six months full severance pay. He spent the first month sleeping, golfing, living, laughing, restoring himself. Then he set on the job hunt. Then came the call.
The company he left was declaring bankruptcy and not only were they stopping his severance pay effective immediately, they were sorry to report that all of his investments in the company were gone. And his retirement? Gone. All of it.
My parents have spent the past two years patching up the gaping holes ripped into the dream life they built, as well as cleaning up from the deluge that flooded a happy, secure home. How they're still alive and together is a mystery. I almost buckled under the weight of their pain and I was on the outside looking in.
These days, they're both happy in new jobs and moving forward, but all of this has come at an even bigger price; they can't afford to stay in our house anymore, well at least, it's not smart of them to do so.
I've known it was coming, but in no way have I accepted it. We're losing our house. My house. My home. The house I grew up in, that we all grew up in. And it's breaking my heart. I know it's just a house and people move all the time, but it's more than that. It's the fact that it's not their choice to leave. They're not choosing to downsize because the kids are gone and they want to lounge in a townhouse surrounded by palm trees. On top of all the financial losses, they have to give up the house that they worked for, along with the memories. And all because of a nauseating cascade of outside forces beyond their control.
So, I've been sitting here, typing this and sobbing, heart aching, all because my dad wrote me a stupid three sentence email:
"Looks like we'll be looking for another place real soon. We're trying to make it a positive situation as best we can; figure that's the best approach. The past is the past, get on with it.
Love you, Dad"
And the rest, they say, is history. Their first date was the next week, Valentine's Day. They were engaged the following year and married in November of 1979.
Both my mom and dad grew up in families with little money. There were no extravagances, just enough to get by. They promised to themselves that they would give to their children everything they had gone without.
Saying that I've lived a privileged life would be a gross understatement. Growing up, I never wanted for anything. I had new, nice clothes every spring and fall, went to the best catholic schools, lived in a beautiful home, got a new car when I was sixteen, and was surrounded by a close, loving, albeit partially insane, family.
The summer of 2001, my parents surprised my sister and I with a two week family vacation in Hawaii. For them, it was the realization of their dreams; they had made the life for themselves and their children that they always wanted. Things were good. Really good.
Then it all started to unravel. The full story is far too complex and personal and depressing to share with the world at large, so here's the super-abbreviated version.
Fall of 2001, my parents, along with millions of others, lost a huge chunk of their investments in the midst of the 9/11 aftermath and WorldCom bankruptcy. The WorldCom thing not only messed with their investments, it also had a trickle-down effect that caused the bankruptcy of the telecommunications company that my mom worked for. So then she lost her job. Finding a new job in the industry proved impossible, as the whole thing was a giant clusterfuck, leaving the people who had devoted their lives to careers in this field out in the cold.
We then entered the Legal Woes phase in the latter part of 2002 and most of 2003. I'm not touching that one with a ten foot pole, mostly because I detest anything to do with legal matters, but the bottom line of that whole shit show was that my family prevailed, save for the financial devastation such proceedings cause.
Oh! Then my dad, after putting in twenty-five years, had to leave his job for his own health and sanity. The company was going through a merger, and after a year of ulcer-inducing 14-16 hour days, with no end or assistance in sight, he had to get out. He looked terrible. He had taken up smoking for the first time in his life, his hair line had receded an extra two inches and the gray took over. The company gave him six months full severance pay. He spent the first month sleeping, golfing, living, laughing, restoring himself. Then he set on the job hunt. Then came the call.
The company he left was declaring bankruptcy and not only were they stopping his severance pay effective immediately, they were sorry to report that all of his investments in the company were gone. And his retirement? Gone. All of it.
My parents have spent the past two years patching up the gaping holes ripped into the dream life they built, as well as cleaning up from the deluge that flooded a happy, secure home. How they're still alive and together is a mystery. I almost buckled under the weight of their pain and I was on the outside looking in.
These days, they're both happy in new jobs and moving forward, but all of this has come at an even bigger price; they can't afford to stay in our house anymore, well at least, it's not smart of them to do so.
I've known it was coming, but in no way have I accepted it. We're losing our house. My house. My home. The house I grew up in, that we all grew up in. And it's breaking my heart. I know it's just a house and people move all the time, but it's more than that. It's the fact that it's not their choice to leave. They're not choosing to downsize because the kids are gone and they want to lounge in a townhouse surrounded by palm trees. On top of all the financial losses, they have to give up the house that they worked for, along with the memories. And all because of a nauseating cascade of outside forces beyond their control.
So, I've been sitting here, typing this and sobbing, heart aching, all because my dad wrote me a stupid three sentence email:
"Looks like we'll be looking for another place real soon. We're trying to make it a positive situation as best we can; figure that's the best approach. The past is the past, get on with it.
Love you, Dad"
Monday, July 17, 2006
for my fellow flyers
mir11: went back to UD this weekend...ended up at Tim's
Amanda107: ah, the gold standard
mir11: and I bought champagne
Amanda107: CHAMPAGNE AT TIMS?!?!?!
mir11: yeah, I know, ha.
mir11: p.s. did you know there's now a stripper pole there?
Amanda107: exactly.
Amanda107: ah, the gold standard
mir11: and I bought champagne
Amanda107: CHAMPAGNE AT TIMS?!?!?!
mir11: yeah, I know, ha.
mir11: p.s. did you know there's now a stripper pole there?
Amanda107: exactly.
still waiting for winter
No Chicagoan in their right mind would ever wish for winter during the glory days of summer.
But, every single time I encounter a bike-rider on the street, I wish upon wish and longingly dream of that sacred time of year when the snow cover renders each bike useless and I can drive in peace.
But, every single time I encounter a bike-rider on the street, I wish upon wish and longingly dream of that sacred time of year when the snow cover renders each bike useless and I can drive in peace.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Someday.
Sigh.
I found this, which I voraciously read through and through. And I loved every nerd nano-second of it.
Someday, someone will love me for my grammar obsession and freakish craving for science knowledge.
I found this, which I voraciously read through and through. And I loved every nerd nano-second of it.
Someday, someone will love me for my grammar obsession and freakish craving for science knowledge.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
boogie monster
Why is it, when it feels like you have a huge booger in your nose, there's never anything there, but when you least expect it, and everything feels in the all-clear, you randomly do a booger-check on your way out of the bathroom and there one is?
It's just hangin' out and being all booger-like. Mocking you with maniacal laughter, reveling in the fact that it's been there for hours and you haven't felt a thing and you just got flirty with dude in the finance department.
It's just hangin' out and being all booger-like. Mocking you with maniacal laughter, reveling in the fact that it's been there for hours and you haven't felt a thing and you just got flirty with dude in the finance department.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Death To Chipotle (you shut your mouth when you're talking to me)
Coworker Adam, just returning from his two week Hawaiian honeymoon, was craving some Chipotle for lunch today. I've been trying to eat better lately, so I agreed to go and get a salad.
Upon return, feeling all smug and health-like, I checked the nutrition information on ChipotleLovers.com.
A fucking SALAD at Chipotle consisting of romaine lettuce, peppers/onions, black beans, mild and medium-hot salsa and some cheese (eating healthy or not, I'm going to eat cheese, that's the rules) is almost 400 calories and 19 grams of fat. And that's BEFORE the chipotle-honey vinaigrette, which adds another 300 calories and 15 grams of fat.
I used half of the serving of dressing, so that's a salad with 550 calories and 26.5 fat grams.
Baffled and admittedly pissed.
Upon return, feeling all smug and health-like, I checked the nutrition information on ChipotleLovers.com.
A fucking SALAD at Chipotle consisting of romaine lettuce, peppers/onions, black beans, mild and medium-hot salsa and some cheese (eating healthy or not, I'm going to eat cheese, that's the rules) is almost 400 calories and 19 grams of fat. And that's BEFORE the chipotle-honey vinaigrette, which adds another 300 calories and 15 grams of fat.
I used half of the serving of dressing, so that's a salad with 550 calories and 26.5 fat grams.
Baffled and admittedly pissed.
Monday, July 10, 2006
peaches and cottage cheese
Where in the hell has this been all of my life?! How did I make it almost twenty-five years without eating this deliciousness? My mother is getting a strongly-worded letter from me tomorrow. She let me drink Diet Coke until I puked and Kraft Shells and Cheese straight out of the pot and never offered up this curdled and fruity combo? wtf, Gina? W.T.F.?
Amanda107: when i got home from work i had some cottage cheese and peaches.
Amanda107: um, yum.
kelleymd09: peaches and cream
Amanda107: or cottage cheese and peaches
kelleymd09: peaches and cream
Amanda107: i thought that was literally cream
Amanda107: not cottage cheese
Amanda107: which is not cream
kelleymd09: it's creamy
Amanda107: dude.
kelleymd09: yes?
Amanda107: peaches and cream is with ice cream and/or whipped cream
Amanda107: both with the word cream in it
Amanda107: unlike cottage cheese
kelleymd09: or it can be a girl's ass with cream, as in the song
kelleymd09: which is, of course, what i was referring to originally
Google "peaches and cream" and that damn 112 song is all that comes up. No recipes, nothing about fruit, just that ultra-classy rap song. This is why I may never bring children into the world.
Don't listen to the following song if you just went through a tough break-up, have ever gone through a tough break-up, don't want your gut ripped out, are in a generally down kind of mood, or don't want to be put in a down kind of mood. Ok, so that leaves just about no one.
Get Out, Get Out, Get Out from Jason Molina's solo album, Let Me Go, Let Me Go, Let Me Go.
It's not a great recording, don't know what's up with that, but it's one of the most punch-me-in-the-face depressing things I've heard in a while. Enjoy!
For those still with me, the song currently rocking my socks off (well, technically, making my toes tap) is Tom Petty's new one, Saving Grace.
Amanda107: when i got home from work i had some cottage cheese and peaches.
Amanda107: um, yum.
kelleymd09: peaches and cream
Amanda107: or cottage cheese and peaches
kelleymd09: peaches and cream
Amanda107: i thought that was literally cream
Amanda107: not cottage cheese
Amanda107: which is not cream
kelleymd09: it's creamy
Amanda107: dude.
kelleymd09: yes?
Amanda107: peaches and cream is with ice cream and/or whipped cream
Amanda107: both with the word cream in it
Amanda107: unlike cottage cheese
kelleymd09: or it can be a girl's ass with cream, as in the song
kelleymd09: which is, of course, what i was referring to originally
Google "peaches and cream" and that damn 112 song is all that comes up. No recipes, nothing about fruit, just that ultra-classy rap song. This is why I may never bring children into the world.
Don't listen to the following song if you just went through a tough break-up, have ever gone through a tough break-up, don't want your gut ripped out, are in a generally down kind of mood, or don't want to be put in a down kind of mood. Ok, so that leaves just about no one.
Get Out, Get Out, Get Out from Jason Molina's solo album, Let Me Go, Let Me Go, Let Me Go.
It's not a great recording, don't know what's up with that, but it's one of the most punch-me-in-the-face depressing things I've heard in a while. Enjoy!
For those still with me, the song currently rocking my socks off (well, technically, making my toes tap) is Tom Petty's new one, Saving Grace.
This is for you, Mir.
First off, I want to congratulate my dear friend, Maria, on her sweet ass new job!! I can't tell you how happy I am for her.
A little while back I came across a blog post I wrote last year but never posted up on the site. I wrote it while I was helping Maria through a rough patch in her life. It's so funny to read it now, almost a year later, and see just how much things have changed for the better.
To celebrate her HUGE, fantastic, unbelieveable new job and make sure she appreciates how far she has come and how utterly amazing she is, I'm posting this in her honor.
Congrats, Mir! I'm so proud of you in so many ways. You rock, lady.
A Long Time Coming...
August 2005
It's quite ironic to discover something positive that is possible only because you went through a pretty rough couple of years.
A good friend of mine is going through a horrible break-up. She moved to a new city about four months ago, mostly because her guy was there (but also because she got a kick ass job). They dated for a few months before her move and were blissfully happy. Obviously, the specifics aren't necessary here, but bottomline, it didn't work out and they broke up a few days ago. We've spent hours talking (actually, typing) because this girl needs to get this shit out and I'm more than happy to listen.
I used to be that girl. It's like I am having a conversation with the person I was six months ago. I could very well be typing her words; I can feel her pain just like it was yesterday. Ironically, the sympathy pain I feel now is almost cathartic for me--I'm reminded that my pain is in my past, her's is in the present. I can say to her, I was there, I felt that, I did the same things. Without thinking, I use the past tense. I find myself coaching her and offering support. It's so bizarre to me. The fact that I can tell someone that I've been there and that I made it through. It's a total smack in the face. Wake up, you made it, time to move on.
More importantly, it's a vindication of everything that I went through. I was in a place where I hurt so bad I didn't think I'd ever make it through. It sounds so melodramatic now, but when you're in the thick of it, things seem pretty hopeless and you can't imagine that the gnawing in your gut will ever go way. But now, however many months later, I'm the one giving advice and consoling and saying that everything will, in fact, be ok.
All of this hit home when I received the following email from her:
"Talking to you has meant more to me than you can ever imagine. I have people telling me to forget about it and get over it, but you tell me it's ok to feel devastated and ok to cry and ok to feel hopeless. You understand. Hearing you say that you were here and made it through really shows me that it will be ok eventually."
I've never felt so good.
A little while back I came across a blog post I wrote last year but never posted up on the site. I wrote it while I was helping Maria through a rough patch in her life. It's so funny to read it now, almost a year later, and see just how much things have changed for the better.
To celebrate her HUGE, fantastic, unbelieveable new job and make sure she appreciates how far she has come and how utterly amazing she is, I'm posting this in her honor.
Congrats, Mir! I'm so proud of you in so many ways. You rock, lady.
A Long Time Coming...
August 2005
It's quite ironic to discover something positive that is possible only because you went through a pretty rough couple of years.
A good friend of mine is going through a horrible break-up. She moved to a new city about four months ago, mostly because her guy was there (but also because she got a kick ass job). They dated for a few months before her move and were blissfully happy. Obviously, the specifics aren't necessary here, but bottomline, it didn't work out and they broke up a few days ago. We've spent hours talking (actually, typing) because this girl needs to get this shit out and I'm more than happy to listen.
I used to be that girl. It's like I am having a conversation with the person I was six months ago. I could very well be typing her words; I can feel her pain just like it was yesterday. Ironically, the sympathy pain I feel now is almost cathartic for me--I'm reminded that my pain is in my past, her's is in the present. I can say to her, I was there, I felt that, I did the same things. Without thinking, I use the past tense. I find myself coaching her and offering support. It's so bizarre to me. The fact that I can tell someone that I've been there and that I made it through. It's a total smack in the face. Wake up, you made it, time to move on.
More importantly, it's a vindication of everything that I went through. I was in a place where I hurt so bad I didn't think I'd ever make it through. It sounds so melodramatic now, but when you're in the thick of it, things seem pretty hopeless and you can't imagine that the gnawing in your gut will ever go way. But now, however many months later, I'm the one giving advice and consoling and saying that everything will, in fact, be ok.
All of this hit home when I received the following email from her:
"Talking to you has meant more to me than you can ever imagine. I have people telling me to forget about it and get over it, but you tell me it's ok to feel devastated and ok to cry and ok to feel hopeless. You understand. Hearing you say that you were here and made it through really shows me that it will be ok eventually."
I've never felt so good.
Friday, July 07, 2006
because I haven't talked about bathroom happenings in quite some time
First off, no one really gives the fearless "let's get things moving" duo of fiber cereal and coffee the praise it truly deserves. What a winning combination.
Speaking of bathroom combinations, the gorgeous tan and black marble floor of my work bathroom paired with the big flourescent lights in the ceiling make it possible to see everything that's going on in the stall next to you. Not that I'm looking, but as I'm sitting there, I'm going to idly glance at the stall door or the floor. And when looking at the floor, the lights reflecting on the shiny marble have a crystal clear mirror-effect.
I've mentioned before the problem I have with people going into the stall right next to mine if there are other stalls available. In this particular bathroom it's an even more serious issue. Not only would they be releasing excrement less than three feet from my person (when it could be a much more comfortable eight feet), but they would also be able to see me in very compromising states. And with my pants down.
Oh! And speaking of crap, I was just thinking to myself the other day that Jennifer Lopez couldn't make a more horrid film than Maid in Manhattan. Well, I was mistaken.
Last night my roommate suggested we watch Monster-in-Law. I can't possibly do justice to just how laughably TERRIBLE this film is. I just can't. It's that bad. Worst movie of all time, followed closely by...shit, it was so bad I can't even think of another vomitrocious film.
Jennifer Lopez, Jane Fonda and Michael Vartan wasted two precious hours of my night, and because I will be able to recall this movie for all time, they have now ruined my entire life.
Speaking of bathroom combinations, the gorgeous tan and black marble floor of my work bathroom paired with the big flourescent lights in the ceiling make it possible to see everything that's going on in the stall next to you. Not that I'm looking, but as I'm sitting there, I'm going to idly glance at the stall door or the floor. And when looking at the floor, the lights reflecting on the shiny marble have a crystal clear mirror-effect.
I've mentioned before the problem I have with people going into the stall right next to mine if there are other stalls available. In this particular bathroom it's an even more serious issue. Not only would they be releasing excrement less than three feet from my person (when it could be a much more comfortable eight feet), but they would also be able to see me in very compromising states. And with my pants down.
Oh! And speaking of crap, I was just thinking to myself the other day that Jennifer Lopez couldn't make a more horrid film than Maid in Manhattan. Well, I was mistaken.
Last night my roommate suggested we watch Monster-in-Law. I can't possibly do justice to just how laughably TERRIBLE this film is. I just can't. It's that bad. Worst movie of all time, followed closely by...shit, it was so bad I can't even think of another vomitrocious film.
Jennifer Lopez, Jane Fonda and Michael Vartan wasted two precious hours of my night, and because I will be able to recall this movie for all time, they have now ruined my entire life.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
the bearable lightness of being
My promotion, my relatively huge promotion, months in the making, just went through. Committees met, papers were signed, deals were made. Totally 100% finalized and done. Done. Done!
I was giddy when I got off the phone with the Human Resources chick telling me that everything was approved. Then I suppressed screams of joy by crying my eyes out at my desk when I got the email with my new salary (don't worry, it's nothing crazy, you won't be seeing me in Prada...wait, even if I had the money, you wouldn't see me in that shit anyway).
Chicago is an expensive town to live in, especially as a single girl working for an academic institution. This ain't the corporate world, honey, they're not throwing money around down here, believe me. It doesn't help that I showed up here two and a half years ago with three hundred dollars to my name, no job and a suitcase. I'm the fucking American Dream!
(cut to me on top of a building in the middle of downtown Chicago, the wind blowing, the camera circling around me with my hands in the air in triumph)
Now, I know there are people out there who are homeless/very poor/starving. Yes, I know, they shove their paper cups in my face and scream at me daily. But, I've faced my own financial struggles, damn it! I've scraped by and stressed myself to the max for years and now I can finally breathe. Breathe! See, breathe! Isn't that great?! And start healing those ulcers. And finish paying off bills. And start saving. And take a fucking vacation.
But, it's more than that. It's more than the money, and being more comfortable (which, don't get me wrong, is fantastic). It's the feeling that finally, after proving myself and fighting for myself and basically kicking ass for the past two years, I'm starting to get the validation I deserve. It's nice to pat yourself on the back and say, "self, good job, you're succeeding at something."
Too bad it's not what I really want to do with my life. But, hey, it pays the bills. Finally.
I was giddy when I got off the phone with the Human Resources chick telling me that everything was approved. Then I suppressed screams of joy by crying my eyes out at my desk when I got the email with my new salary (don't worry, it's nothing crazy, you won't be seeing me in Prada...wait, even if I had the money, you wouldn't see me in that shit anyway).
Chicago is an expensive town to live in, especially as a single girl working for an academic institution. This ain't the corporate world, honey, they're not throwing money around down here, believe me. It doesn't help that I showed up here two and a half years ago with three hundred dollars to my name, no job and a suitcase. I'm the fucking American Dream!
(cut to me on top of a building in the middle of downtown Chicago, the wind blowing, the camera circling around me with my hands in the air in triumph)
Now, I know there are people out there who are homeless/very poor/starving. Yes, I know, they shove their paper cups in my face and scream at me daily. But, I've faced my own financial struggles, damn it! I've scraped by and stressed myself to the max for years and now I can finally breathe. Breathe! See, breathe! Isn't that great?! And start healing those ulcers. And finish paying off bills. And start saving. And take a fucking vacation.
But, it's more than that. It's more than the money, and being more comfortable (which, don't get me wrong, is fantastic). It's the feeling that finally, after proving myself and fighting for myself and basically kicking ass for the past two years, I'm starting to get the validation I deserve. It's nice to pat yourself on the back and say, "self, good job, you're succeeding at something."
Too bad it's not what I really want to do with my life. But, hey, it pays the bills. Finally.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Other Onion Favorites
Area Homosexual Saves Four From Fire
"...he collapsed on the lawn, exhausted and gay."
I Can't Stand My Filthy Hippie Owner
"The absolute worst thing that ever happened to me, though, was when that son-of-a-bitch Zach got out that goddamn collar and took me down to the park to watch him take off his sandals and juggle sticks."
Taco Bell Launches New "Morning After" Burrito
"Possible side effects of the new birth-control snack item include weight gain, stomach upset and gas, the same as with all other Taco Bell products."
"...he collapsed on the lawn, exhausted and gay."
I Can't Stand My Filthy Hippie Owner
"The absolute worst thing that ever happened to me, though, was when that son-of-a-bitch Zach got out that goddamn collar and took me down to the park to watch him take off his sandals and juggle sticks."
Taco Bell Launches New "Morning After" Burrito
"Possible side effects of the new birth-control snack item include weight gain, stomach upset and gas, the same as with all other Taco Bell products."
New Starbucks Opens In Rest Room Of Existing Starbucks
June 27, 1998 Issue 33*20
CAMBRIDGE, MA-Starbucks, the nation's largest coffee-shop chain, continued its rapid expansion Tuesday, opening its newest location in the men's room of an existing Starbucks.
"Coffee lovers just can't stand being far from their favorite Starbucks gourmet blends," said Chris Tuttle, Starbucks vice-president of franchising. "Now, people can enjoy a delicious Frappuccino or espresso just about any time they please, even while defecating."
The new men's-room-based Starbucks, the coffee giant's 1,531st U.S. location, will be open to both men and women when not "in use." In addition to offering specialty coffees from around the world, it will serve freshly baked pastries, Italian pannini sandwiches and soups, as well as the rest room's usual selection of toilet paper and soap.
"This is a great addition," said Jonathan Connolly, a Boston-area banker who tried out the new Starbucks Tuesday. "I was enjoying my usual triple mocha latte in the main Starbucks, and I had to go to the bathroom, where three people were in line to use the stalls. The wait might have been a problem, but, to my great pleasure, there was another Starbucks right there, ready to serve me more delicious coffee. And the baristas were helpful and courteous."Connolly added that after he finished drinking his coffee and using the bathroom, he stayed for a poetry reading near the urinals.
"I was a little bit worried about the new restaurant cutting into our business," said Dave Grobelkowski, manager of the original Starbucks. "But the only people going there are ones who have already purchased items from us anyway. And if we run out of stirrers or cream, we can just go to the bathroom and borrow some."
According to Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz, the new location represents the beginning of a long-term expansion plan.
"Eventually, Starbucks rest rooms everywhere will sell coffee," Schultz said.
"But that ambitious scheme is at least five years down the road. In the meantime, we plan to open an additional location in this Starbucks' ladies' room within months, and are already drafting plans for a fourth restaurant along the corridor leading from the main seating area to the rest rooms. At some point a 'Star-bucks Express' window will eventually open in the walk-in closet of the men's room Starbucks."
"Drink our coffee," Schultz said. "Drink it."
(source)
CAMBRIDGE, MA-Starbucks, the nation's largest coffee-shop chain, continued its rapid expansion Tuesday, opening its newest location in the men's room of an existing Starbucks.
"Coffee lovers just can't stand being far from their favorite Starbucks gourmet blends," said Chris Tuttle, Starbucks vice-president of franchising. "Now, people can enjoy a delicious Frappuccino or espresso just about any time they please, even while defecating."
The new men's-room-based Starbucks, the coffee giant's 1,531st U.S. location, will be open to both men and women when not "in use." In addition to offering specialty coffees from around the world, it will serve freshly baked pastries, Italian pannini sandwiches and soups, as well as the rest room's usual selection of toilet paper and soap.
"This is a great addition," said Jonathan Connolly, a Boston-area banker who tried out the new Starbucks Tuesday. "I was enjoying my usual triple mocha latte in the main Starbucks, and I had to go to the bathroom, where three people were in line to use the stalls. The wait might have been a problem, but, to my great pleasure, there was another Starbucks right there, ready to serve me more delicious coffee. And the baristas were helpful and courteous."Connolly added that after he finished drinking his coffee and using the bathroom, he stayed for a poetry reading near the urinals.
"I was a little bit worried about the new restaurant cutting into our business," said Dave Grobelkowski, manager of the original Starbucks. "But the only people going there are ones who have already purchased items from us anyway. And if we run out of stirrers or cream, we can just go to the bathroom and borrow some."
According to Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz, the new location represents the beginning of a long-term expansion plan.
"Eventually, Starbucks rest rooms everywhere will sell coffee," Schultz said.
"But that ambitious scheme is at least five years down the road. In the meantime, we plan to open an additional location in this Starbucks' ladies' room within months, and are already drafting plans for a fourth restaurant along the corridor leading from the main seating area to the rest rooms. At some point a 'Star-bucks Express' window will eventually open in the walk-in closet of the men's room Starbucks."
"Drink our coffee," Schultz said. "Drink it."
(source)
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