Avoid the dick waving

Oh, the Google searches that will lead people here after that title...

Anyway, I was talking to my brother this morning about computer games that focus on wars, battles, flying animals and God knows what else, and this was the conversation that occurred.


Me: Brad told me that there a new game out there that "owns WoW's face."
Please don't make me try to remember the name...

Brother: WARHAMMER?????????

Me: YES!!

Brother: Warhammer is for 14 year olds that need validation about how large their e-dick is.

Me: Okay, then.

Goodbye to high-dose hormones

As some of you know, my super shitty insurance caused me to explore more affordable birth control options. Meaning, I needed to switch to generic. Since they don't make a generic version of my precious Ortho Tri-Cyclen Lo, I had to deviate from my prescription of six years to the Terrifying TriNessa.

TriNessa, you see, is the generic version of regular Ortho Tri-Cyclen. Since I'm already pretty high-strung, pumping more hormones into me is... well... not the best idea.

Which I now realize.

So anyway, after making Dave's life a living hell for one solid month, I took it upon myself to switch back to the unaffordable-but-better-for-my-marriage pill. Results so far have been noticeable.



Me: Man, I'm already feeling better.

Dave: What do you mean?

Me: Like, more mellow.

Dave: Oh, after getting off those pills that made you crazy?

He would have paid for that, had this been two weeks ago.

Me: Yeah. There were definitely times when I wanted to get shitty with you today, but I just figured, eh, it's not a big deal.

Dave: Wow, I wonder if you OFF birth control altogether will make you Cool Elle.

Me: Uh, what?

Dave: I mean... CoolER Elle.

Me: You fucker.

The fun part of moving

This weekend, Dave and I packed up our massive apartment and moved our belongings into a smaller apartment. Big fun. And by that, I mean that I may be having panic attacks about fitting everything into our new home.

But whatever. The ACTUAL fun part about moving came when Ang and Suzanne came over earlier in the week for a packing party. Sure, there were boxes, struggles with moving tape and heavy lifting, but there was also a decent amount of wine...

We started with the kitchen.

Look at them go! I, on the other hand, chose to take pictures and drink.

Zannie called Dave a "mug maniac" because he has so many coffee mugs.

Ugh, so much to move.

Zannie was showing us how she writes the percent sign backwards. Result: This box is 150% fragile.

Dave was less than amused to find out we used more than half our boxes to pack up a third of the kitchen.

Most genius packing tip ever -- gather all your clothes on hangers and put them in garbage bags, then just toss them up in your new closet and remove the bags.

Okay, time to start bringing a few things over to the new place.

Loading up Suzanne's car.

LOOK, I LIFT THINGS.

In our slight stupor, we decided it was of the utmost importance to bring this little coat rack to the new apartment immediately.

We're heeeerrrreee. First things first: champagne.

We had Ang stay upstairs while we unloaded a few things, so she decorated the fridge.
Ang stands on Zannie's back to help fix it after lifting those boxes!

Mini-move completed. Time to order pizza.

Waiting for food, finishing drinks.

And that's where the photos stop because I soon became distracted by the deep dish and fried deliciousness of Lou Malnatis.

THANK YOU SO MUCH, GIRLS!!! You were such a big help!

While the official move on Saturday went relatively well, Dave and I are now in the stages of unpacking, so expect me to be in another craptastic mood this week. Though, it might not be so bad because I just switched back to my normal birth control, which doesn't have those extra hormones pumping into me... Sure, it costs a shit-ton more but after dealing with me this past month, Dave said he would "pay anything" to get me back on the low-dose stuff. Let's see how it goes!

Vlog this

I know YESTERDAY was vlog day, but this video was made at 11pm last night, so I was technically on time... Except right after it was made, Dave slammed my hand in between the desk and his chair, I threw a tantrum and went to bed without uploading. And then it wouldn't upload until tonight, sooo, that's what it's late. I know, we're lame like that. Sorry.

Please watch this if and only if you want to see me cranky, tired (and thus sniffling a lot), coming off a buzz and rolling my eyes once every 20 seconds.

Oh, and we look like SHIT. So, just to remind you how nicely we clean up, here's another wedding picture. I like to imagine we look more like this on a regular basis than the trainwreck looks that we're sporting in the video.




And now, for the main event. Gaaahh, I hate watching myself. I don't think I'll do any more of these.

Gotta have options

Last night, Ang and Suz came over for a packing party where I bribed them with wine to help me shove my crap into flimsy cardboard boxes. They totally went for it, so we packed up most of the kitchen and most of our closet while sipping on sauvignon blanc. I'd call that a success.

I got some fun pictures of the whole charade, but I still need to upload them. Instead, I'll tell you the story of what happened when Ang and I stopped by Whole Foods to get the wine.

We walked up to the checkout lane, armed with 3 bottles of wine and a large bottle of raspberry beer. I put it on the thingy, got out my ID and waited my turn. The checkout boy stared at me, studying my face to make sure he can match it with my license photo. (I assumed.)

When it's my turn, the checkout boy does not touch my alcohol. I'm holding my ID out, but he's not taking it. Just staring. A checkout girl swoops in and takes my ID and rings me up.

That's right, folks. This kid wasn't old enough to sell us alcohol. But that didn't stop him from trying to hit on me. (Score?)


Boy: So, you guys gonna drink all that tonight?

Me: Um, yeah.

Ang: (briskly) It won't be enough.
She goes back to her phone call.

Me: Actually, she's probably right.

Boy: Well, if you let me give you my number, maybe I can come over and help you drink it.


Ballsy! And let me tell you, I rarely get hit on. So whenever it does happen, I love it because it means I can run home to Dave and be like, "BE NICE TO ME. I HAVE OPTIONS." This exchange, however, had me feeling weird. I think I'm 7 or 8 years older than this guy. (On a related note, what's cougar territory?)


Me: Well, it's kind of a girls night tonight...
Oh, and my husband will be there.

Boy: You could pretend I'm a girl.


Okay, this sounds like it's going to a freaky place that I want no part of.


Me: ....

Boy: (quickly) I could bring stuff over. What do you need?

Ang: (chiming in) FOOD.

Boy: I could bring food. You like cereal? How about cereal?


Something was not right with this kid. I mean, of COURSE I like cereal. But, dude, we're drinking wine. Wine and cereal? That's your big idea? That's how you're gonna win me over? I'm sorry, you're gonna have to step it up a bit. I'm not going to leave my husband for cereal. Maybe offer something with goat cheese and then we'll talk.

Looks like my options are dwidling, people. Guess I'm stuck with Dave, the attractive, brilliant man who cooks, cleans and puts up with my shit more than I deserve. Sigh.

No longer a tag virgin

I've been tagged, ya'll.

(Can you imagine how awkward it would sound if I talked like that?)

Anyway, the lovely Mel over at Life in the Cube has tagged me for a meme. Is that even the right thing to say? Sometimes I really suck at blog lingo. Whatever. It's clearly my first time with this and I now must name 6 random things about myself.



1. I'm a vegetarian. Kinda.

This deserves an entire post of its own (which will probably happen), but for now, all you need to know is that I became vegetarian at age 3 -- if you don't count the fact that I ate hot dogs because my mom told me that they grew on trees. She insists it's the only time she's ever lied to me. Of course, my vegetarianism lasted for nearly two decades until I went to college and realized that I'd better incorporate chicken into my diet if I wanted to survive all four years of cafeteria food. Nowadays I always choose vegetarian meals over anything else.


2. I almost went to law school.

When I wasn't drinking myself stupid at the bars, I was working on my degree in Political Science. I took Constitutional Law, took the LSATs, picked out law schools to apply to... and then completely freaked out during my last semester of college. I called my dad in a panic with my heart pounding and told him I did NOT want to go to law school. Nothing like a last-minute change of plans, huh? I got into grad school for journalism in Maryland, where Dave was at the time, but realized that most employers valued experience and clips over the additional schooling. Into the freelance world I went. I kinda hate that I only have my Bachelor's, but I'm much happier now than I ever would have been on my law school path.


3. Dave and I had a dog once.

When we first started living together, we thought it would be a brilliant idea to get a dog. We adopted a mutt with an unknown (but obviously troubled) background and only kept her for 2 weeks. She attacked other dogs on our walks and I could NOT handle it. The final straw was when we drove her home to meet my family and she snapped at my precious baby, a Vizsla named Monty. "HELL TO THE NO, DAVE!" I said. "You gotta take her back. I can't do this." So, we gave her back. Shameful, I know. I am now extremely gun-shy about getting a pup, even though that was over 3 years ago. Plus, I still don't think I'm ready to share Dave's attention with anyone/anything else quite yet.


4. I hate bananas.

Ugh, fuck bananas. They are disgusting. Seriously, how do you people eat that mush? It's not just the consistency that bothers me though. The taste is just... blech. I have only met one other person who HATES bananas as much as I do and it is a bond that cannot be broken.


5. I'll never forget the name of the gymnast who beat me by 2 tenths of a point at the state meet in 1996.

Workouts 20 hours a week, competitions every weekend -- being a competitive gymnast could be brutal but I loved it. You're probably shocked to hear that I've actually been physically active before. I swear, I was. For about 10 years. During that time, I placed second at the 1996 state all-around competition. Barely. I had an uncharacteristic fall on bars, usually my best event, and it cost me big time. I know, I know, who cares now? But it's something I won't forget. Because I'm just that neurotic. And her name was just that weird...


6. I'm a pizza snob.

Having grown up on the East Coast with incredible pizza, we were never allowed to order from Pizza Hut, Dominos or Papa John's. Dad's rules. I didn't understand it until I actually ate pizza from one of those places after we moved down south. Yikes. Nothing will ever replace good, brick-oven NY pizza and I admit that I got totally spoiled growing up on that. The closest here in Chicago is the deliciousness that comes from Piece, and I remain obsessed with it.



Aaaand I just realized that half of my random facts revolve around food. Go me.

I'm supposed to list out the official rules for this and tag other bloggers, but I want to hear from everyone. Yeah, YOU. Your turn. Tell me something random. I'm calling you out! Lurkers too. I want to know who actually reads this, besides my mom. There's got to be at least, like, 4 of you.

Driving and I don't get along

I'm going to St. Louis tomorrow for a wedding and we're driving. Let me clarify: I'm driving. I do not drive. This is going to be interesting.

I was never really anti-driving until I moved to Chicago, where I'd rather risk my life as a pedestrian than get swerved into by cabs or be responsible for vehicular homicide.

Prior to that, I loved driving. Mostly because I lived in a suburb of Memphis and there wasn't much else to do besides drive up to the mall, flirt with other drivers, speed away from them once they think you're interested and giggle a lot while listening to Christina Aguilera before her tragic dependence on bright red lipstick. Come on over, coooome on over, baby. (God DAMMIT, now that song's in my head.)

It wasn't ALL fun and flirting though. There was this one little car accident... Let's flashback, shall we?


My Six-Car Collision

When I was 17, I drove my brother and his friends to school because they were way too cool for the bus and would much rather be seen in a beat-up 1988 Mitsubishi Galant for reasons that are still unclear to me. That fateful morning as we pulled into the parking lot, I saw some bat-shit crazy girl flying around in her equally crappy sedan.

"Oh, that bitch is gonna HIT someone," I said.

I know. I'm prophetic like that. Didn't quite understand the full irony of that statement until 7 hours later when we were leaving school.

The boys and I piled into the Mitsu and joined the clusterfuck of cars driving down the main road. We were listening to music (probably, like, Staind or something) when the road opened up for a minute and we all got to drive a little faster.

Funny thing about driving in heavy traffic is that when you speed up really quickly, you usually have to stop really quickly too.

So, the light changes colors and the first car slams on his brakes. Stupid. He was practically through the light. So that causes the car behind him -- a friend of mine -- to slam on her brakes. The next car slammed on her brakes, I hit mine, the car behind me hit hers and the SUV behind her was able to stop as well. We were all okay and hadn't hit each other, but it's pretty scary to see the cars behind you FLYING AT FULL FUCKING SPEED.

The SUV behind the last girl who stopped hit her and she hit me. Only a bump.

"What the...?" I said. "Were we just in an acc--"

SLAM.

Yes. We were all hit again. By that bat-shit crazy idiot who I noticed that very morning. Apparently, because she was behind the SUV (um, and has no depth perception?) she didn't realize how quickly she needed to stop and she just plowed right into us. We all hit each other, minus the one jackass who hit his brakes in the first place. Again, irony.

All in all, it was a mess, but no one was hurt. And yes, the guys couldn't stop talking about how this six-car collision had six female drivers. Though I liked to point out that the ONE guy is the one who started this whole thing. Jerk.



And there you have it. It wasn't as traumatic as it was memorable, but I still prefer not to drive. We just don't get along anymore.

But, with Dave having to study for something during the drive, I will be my responsibility not to kill us on the road. So, in accordance with that goal, I will be making Dave drive us out of the city in the morning and I will not get behind the wheel until we are safely on 55-S.

Wish me luck!

My future, all on paper

Along with my obsession with crime shows, I also have an obsession with psychics. Shows like Ghost Whisperer, psychics like Sylvia Browne, people like those creepy mini-psychics from Children of the Paranormal. All of it. So, as you can imagine, I further indulged this interest once and actually visited a psychic myself.

I bring this up now because as I was packing up my apartment this weekend, I came across a sheet of paper with a lot of random things written on it. I stared for a second, but soon realized it was my notes from this psychic venture. Yep, everything she told me, I wrote down.

I also remember parts of it pretty well...

I was in college and my roommate had a friend who swore by this one psychic. Roommate and friend were going to visit this woman, and did I want to go too? Sure, why the hell not.

We each went one by one into the basement. (It sounds creepier than it was.) When it was my turn, I clutched my crisp white sheet of paper and my black pen as I gingerly tip toed down the stairs, trying not to fall on my ass.

"I've read you before."

Huh?

"I've read you before, haven't I," the psychic said, as soon as I walked in. It wasn't a question.

"Um, no, actually, I've NEVER been read before," I laughed nervously.

Got off to a good start, wouldn't you say?

I don't remember the actual course of the conversation, but here's how her predictions seemed to play out.


THINGS THE PSYCHIC GOT RIGHT

• In regards to my love life, the number 9 enters very strongly. (I got married in September.)
• Illinois would be very important in my life.
• There will be a female in my husband's family that I'll really like.
• I will wear an expensive ring on my finger.
• My sister will have some big changes happening. (I'm thinking it was the whole rehab thing, not the whole "I'm dying my hair PINK" thing.)
  

THINGS THE PSYCHIC MIGHT GET RIGHT

• The name James will be very important in my life.
• My husband's success will be powerful and he'll be in business.
  
• My health will be fine and I'll live a long life.
• I'll have 2 kids of the same sex and they'll go to private school.
• Our household income will be $160-185k.
  
• I'll have 4 houses in my lifetime, none of them in Missouri and one will have a pond out back.
• A brightly colored car is important. (Um, flashy-much?)
  
• My dad has changes with a 4.
• The name Terry matters, something about his signature on paper being significant.
• I'll be getting a $2,000 check (which one of you hasn't paid up?)
  

THINGS THE PSYCHIC GOT WAY, WAY WRONG

• I would be proposed to within 7-10 months of this meeting. (Try 4 years.)
• I would own my own law firm. (Um, I may have accidentally let it slip that I was going to law school. She just fed off that. My bad.)
• I would have a big wedding, maybe outside.
• My dad wouldn't agree with my next big move.
  

Apparently, the psychic mistook me for a rich, flashy, snotty, eager-to-marry co-ed.

Fun, huh? I'd totally go to another one.

New apartment

Well, we finally found a new apartment. I say "finally," but, really, I know it only took about a week. I could go into all the details about how we found it and blah, blah, blah but I don't care and I don't think you do either. I've moved on to my next big project: decorating.

You see, our new apartment is doing a special where they paint accent walls for you for free.

Of course, we're only talking about 825 sq ft here, so everything has to coordinate well and flow, lest we have a funhouse-esque, circus feel. SO not chic.

I'm really into earthy tones, so after a few hours of deliberating and talking to myself, here's what I think I'd like to do:



The furniture and accessories are the items I already have (minus the shower curtain that pulls it all together), so at least I've got a decent color palette going, I think.

The walls in our new place are white, so I didn't want to do a super bold color in the living room because I'm a wimp like that and also because we might change our furniture someday soon.

I dunno, guys, I'm so insecure about home decorating. I love putting together outfits but something about painting walls terrifies me. I second-guess myself constantly with this shit, which is why most of my apartments have all resembled a stark insane asylum. I need your opinions, Internet!

Oh, and I have big windows with lots of natural light (and RIDICULOUS views of the lake, since I'm on the 51st floor), if that makes a difference.

So, suggestions? Massive bouts of praise? Fun accent items you'd like to buy me? Let's hear it.

Gives to meaning to "frightening," huh?

What should I be for Halloween?

I actually never dress up for this holiday. Really, I kind of ignore it. "Ignore," "hate," same thing. Anyway, October 31 in Chicago is uaually freezing, so unless I dress as an eskimo, chances are I'm going to be sacrificing warmth for looking like an overdone jackass. No, thank you.

But, there are far too many good opportunities this year. It's at least worth a blog post where I pretend to actually consider these outfits.

Btw, Dave, I have totally included you in my plans. We'll talk.



McCain/Palin
Dave can dress up as an old man with walnuts in his cheeks and a visible disdain for the liberal elite and I can dress in a black suit with some kick-ass red pumps. I'll need to carry a moose-shootin' gun, proselytize a lot, wink so much that it looks like I'm having a seizure and speak like I don't know the name of a single magazine whatsoever.

Bristol/Redneck Baby-Daddy
I'll make my hair super straight, stuff a pillow by my belly and wear a neutral tone wrap dress. Dave will look disheveled and drunk, which might not be too far off. Though he WILL have to act like he doesn't have a PhD. Don't worry, I can school him in the nuances of mild retardation.

Long Island Mafia
As a dago couple, Dave can wear a pinky ring and I'll wear a velor track suit with big, gold jewelry. Dave will say the only Italian word he knows ("stugots") and I'll speak in the nasaly, nagging voice I learned from my grandmother.

A Ginge
HAHA. Okay, that one might be more like an inside joke, but it was worth mentioning to the few of you who would get it.

Those Whores from Rock of Love
Since we actually saw them filming a few weeks ago on the rooftop next to my balcony, I can't get these whores out of my head. Dave can wear a long, stringy blonde wig, a bandanna and maybe get some Restalyne injections. I can do the same, except also get fake boobs and stumble around with an undeserved sense of superiority.

New Haircut
Well, this one's for Dave, not me. But it would be HILARIOUS. Yeah, his collar's popped, so everyone knows he's the fuckin' man. Not now, Chief. He's in the zone.

Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz
Dave and I can both wear eyeliner, flat iron our hair and cut our wrists because we're just that pained. Done and done.

Miley Cyrus and Billy Ray Cyrus
The key here is lots of kissing and inappropriate touching. (Yeah, I went there.)

Anna Wintour
I kind of love this elitist bitch. I'll walk around in super-big sunglasses and with an I'm-better-than-you gait and Chanel suits. I'll also yell at people and make everyone bring me fur shawls with a snap of my fingers.


Yes, these are all clearly winning ideas. But I have actually found the *perfect* costume, mostly because it requires ZERO effort beyond me showing up to a party drunk, which is kinda my thing.


Yes, folks, this Halloween, I will be:

That Drunk Chick from My Favorite Drunk History

"This is SEPARATE. This is SEPARATE than the interview. Hiccup."

She is a sloppy mess and I absolutely adore her.


What are you gonna be?

Since I can't shop right now...

...I decided to torture myself.

As I sat here eating my Simply Asia noodle soup bowl (which is really just a fancy version of Ramen Noodles -- and by fancy, I mean it was $1.30 instead of 45-cents), I got the urge to create a cute outfit.

You see, Team Sugar teamed up with ShopBop and told all of us vapid, fashion-obsessed label whores to create our own looks for an ongoing contest. Here's what I did:

Top: Loeffler Randall
Cuff: Roberto Cavalli
Shoes: Giuseppe Zanotti
Clutch: Lauren Merkin

And now I want. Can anyone spare $2,600?

DAMMIT MONEY TREE. Grow, already!

This makes me happy

Since this apartment shit is so depressing and I've been accused of not being myself lately, I decided to do something special and buy myself this fabulous fall coat:




It fits absolutely perfectly and it makes me happy. And it wasn't too expensive, either, which is good because my finances are a little limited right now (after the wedding, honeymoon and big furniture buy). Ugh, I'm dying to update my fall wardrobe!! Do you even know how many cute shoes there are out there?

Restraint SUCKS.

Big thanks to Zannie for dressing me. :-)

Wedding, Part 4

We went straight from the ceremony immediately into the reception. Hotel 71 is awesome because we herded everyone into the cocktail area for an hour while our florist and the amazing hotel staff transformed our connecting ceremony area into the reception space.

Aaand massive drinking ensued.

PART 4: RECEPTION, BITCHES

Sister with friends. By the bar, of course.

I was beyond thrilled how everything turned out.

Woman's hand + alcohol = Drunk Grandma (who else?)

Holla.

I threatened violence if he smashed cake in my face.

Cake was chocolate with real raspberries crushed in chocolate ganache filling.

Looooves you.

Mom, find me Dad's written speech and frame it. Seriously.

Laughter, just before tears. (Mine.)

Best man speech. Also incredible.

We love Joe.

BFFs.

Sister speech.

I look like I'm telepathically threatening her if she says anything embarrassing.

One of my favorite pictures of the wedding. I almost always tear up seeing it.

Photos were SO good. We never even noticed them.

Looks like a stock photo, but it's not.

No idea what was funny, but I was drunk. Could've been anything.

First dance. Wanna hear the song? Click below...

BEST FIRST DANCE SONG EVER

Look at his dimples. How adorable is that?

What a wonderful world.

Such a Daddy's Girl.

Mama's boy, dancing to Frank Sinatra's Shadow of Your Smile.

With sis and mom.

DRUNKY IS BACK. Along with the family friend who made my amazing veil.

Mom and Dad

Leave room for God, boys. Leave room for God.

HORA

We're very excited.

I SWORE I wouldn't do this. Drunk people lifting chairs? No, thanks.

Dave got dropped. He says he "bailed" but this was Attempt No. 2.

Hey, why not?

Ang and Mel!! Who's surprised Ang has bubbles?

Yeah, I wish I knew what the hell this was all about.

Our moms dancing.

Sneaking away from the reception for a few nighttime shots.

On Wacker.

And we're done.

Hope you guys enjoyed the wedding!!

I'll post honeymoon stuff next. I still haven't uploaded the pictures and I've been home for a few weeks now. I'll get to it, I promise. But not this weekend because I'm going to The Best Bachelorette Party Ever at some wineries just outside of St. Louis.

Have a fantastic weekend. :-)