elle michelle

I'm over here right now

2011-12-05T20:00:00.001-06:00

http://elleemcee.tumblr.com/

Mostly because I'm still desperate for the social sharing of The Goog and I need to believe that Tumblr is the answer.

So, let's be friends.

I'm promise to be more brief and thereby less obnoxious.

(That last part is a lie.)

Typical

2011-11-16T21:34:00.001-06:00

Scene: Talking on the phone with my mom one weekend morning.

Me: Yeah, I just got woken up by my wine being delivered.

Mom: Oh, most people wake up with coffee, but I guess, with you, it's wine.

Me: I guess?

Mom: Yeah.

Me: Well, the delivery guy was terrified of Rocco. He rushed my signature and didn't even check my ID!

Mom: Aw.

Me: What if I was underage??

Mom: What if you were an FBI agent??

Me: Ri--what, what?

Mom: FBI!

Me: So... Basically, you're saying it's more believable that I'm an FBI agent than that I'm under 21?

Mom: ...Yeah.

Me: ...

Me: Whatever, you're almost 60.

Twilight, part two

2011-11-10T23:51:00.001-06:00

Ang, Maris and I just watched Twilight part two.

I'm still not clear whether this was Breaking Dawn or New Moon, but there was definitely no sex in it. Much like my first review of a Twilight movie, it was hilarious.

The movie starts out with Bella in a field with an old lady, who I assumed was her dead grandma. Turns out, it's her old self, in a dream...? Or something? I mean, she IS turning 18 which is SO FUCKING OLD. (So. What's the symbology there?)

Next thing that happens is Jacob running into the scene with his long, gross hair. Instead of hoping for a sex scene, I start praying that this is the movie where he chops off that god-awful mane. (Spoiler: it is.)

Speaking of hair, Bella basically doesn't shower for the entire movie and her hair looks way worse than mine after 3 days of not showering and 24 hours sitting in the rain with no access to an umbrella. Tragic.

There's also a lot of rain in the movie.

Aside from the long man-hair, greasy girl mop, rain and not-so-subtle symbolism, the second Twilight movie is also filled with shirtless men. Or maybe "men," in quotes, since I think they may be 17 and under. Related: how many 17-year-olds do you know who have broad shoulders and six-packs? Not in my high school, kiddos. Not in my high school. Or my adulthood, except for the gays.

Oh, and did I mention they kill off the one black guy in the entire movie? I bet he was half-Jewish too. As two half-Jews, Maris and I are one-whole offended. I think. (There was a decent amount of wine and champagne during this viewing so things get a little hazy...)

What else do you need to know? Edward didn't really make an appearance except for weirdo ghost-like visions in Bella's head, Dakota Fanning looked pretty, Carlisle started developing a British accent, Edward wore a robe that I really think was a dress for Hugh Hefner-esque cross-dressers...

Other random events:

Edward and Bella say "I love you." About 4 second later, he dumps her. Bye, bitch.

To illustrate the passing of time, we see Bella sitting in a chair while the camera swirls around her and the months pass by on the screen.

Bella has crazy screaming dreams and her dad rushes into her room to comfort her every time. Something about her being a grown woman makes me feel weird about this.

Bella gets all bad-assy after the breakup and jumps on a random motorcycle with a random dude who looks more like a teddy bear than the murderous thug we're supposed to think he is. AND she does this even though Ghost-Edward tells her not to. Bye, bitch.

We realized that the chick who plays Bella's BFF Jessica is the same girl who appears in Up in the Air. Thanks, IMDB!

Vampires still run fast.

JACOB FINALLY CUTS HIS HAIR. I guess turning into a werewolf does that to a guy.

Speaking of Jacob, he totally parkours up Bella's house to get into her bedroom. Pretty sure he was shirtless.

Bella goes off the deep end -- literally -- when she hurls herself off a cliff into the murky water below. She pops up, floats around for a while on the surface, then "slams" her head into a rock... I CALL BULLSHIT. Do you know how hard it is to move fast in the water? I don't think you could knock yourself out if you tried. But, no matter, because a shirtless Jacob saves her.

Bella continues to be depressed, at which point I urge her to invest in some Lexapro. And maybe take a shower.

Bella keeps acting like she's into Jacob and going to kiss him, but never does. Because she hates abs?

Bella keeps trying to email Edward's sister with the bad hair (I guess bad hair is a major theme in the movie), but all emails go to that goddamn Mailer Daemon. Send fail, Bella.

Buuuuut, Alice still shows up at Bella's door because Alice see the future! And she saw Bella throw herself off the cliff! And get knocked unconscious! And die! ...Except that last part didn't happen. Geez, Alice, take a lesson from Sylvia Browne and get your psychic shit together.

Bella and Alice fly to Italy via Virgin airlines, which Angie says had monitors on the seats and you can message people in other seats, all creepy-like. I hope that's not a lie. because that sounds awesome.

At the end of the movie, Bella wants to be turned into a vampire, which Edward says he'll do "on one condition." ...... "Marry me." I feel like it would have been fantastic is Bella was like, "Look... you're great... but, I mean... being immortal and committing to marriage is, like, a big thing. And have you seen Jacob's abs?"

Eh, that's basically all I remember.

Overall, I have to say that I enjoyed the first one better -- maybe because I had no idea how bad it was going to be and I was just so damn tickled the entire two hours. This time, I expected ridiculousness and I got it. But the edge goes to part one simply because it had the element of surprise.

I'm planning to watch part 3 sometime in the next, like, year or whatever, so let me know if you want to take part of this mess.

Just don't forget the wine.

Best gif ever?

2011-11-02T22:52:00.002-05:00

Basically.

Related: I miss you, Goog Reader. NEVER FORGET.

Terrifying or terrified?

2011-10-29T13:56:00.002-05:00

Happy Halloween from the most humiliated little shark on the planet.

Thanks to Aunt Suz for passing along Hanny's old costume.

Gives "spooky" a whole new meaning

2011-10-25T22:58:00.001-05:00

What started out like this...

...was planned like this...

...and then turned into this...

I call him: "The Diabolical Redneck." Who needs all their teeth anyway?

Happy Halloween, y'all.

The finished products:

Just...no.

2011-10-25T09:37:00.002-05:00

That is what popped up on my TV this morning.

I thought to myself, "Lisa, you have never seen an episode of Jersey Shore. I know your initial reaction is UGH HATE, but maybe give her a chance."

So I did.

And now I hate myself.

But not as much as I hate the word "guidette."

Apartment of death

2011-10-13T20:00:00.002-05:00

Tonight, it rained it Chicago and everyone forgot how to drive.

I don't know why. I don't make the rules.

After sitting in traffic for about an hour, I finally got home to my apartment. As I walked up the back stairs, I heard a faint beeping...

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP...BEEP-BEEP-BEEP...

That's not coming from my place, is it? I thought.

Okay, it definitely is.

I threw my key into the lock and pried it open (janky old door), wondering just how long the beeping had been going on and how bat-shit-crazy-insane Rocco probably was after hearing it nonstop.

That's when I realized it was my carbon monoxide detector.

And my place smelled like gasoline.

OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING TO DIE.

In one fluid motion -- that's what it felt like, but I bet I looked more like an epileptic on meth -- I grabbed Rocco by the collar, swiped his leash from the couch and hauled ass outside.

Standing in the rain, I frantically called Dave and told him about how our apartment had turned into a beeping deathtrap. He told me that carbon monoxide doesn't smell and that I needed to call our neighbors to tell them what was going on. I demanded that he come home immediately and marched upstairs with my confused dog. We hug out with our cool neighbors while trying to describe what that smell was. Gasoline? Poisonous gas? GASOLINE? Totally gasoline.

We also brainstormed the source of the problem -- no question there. It was our "handyman." He sets up shop in our basement and makes random shit for our landlord. The latest project has been a pair of doors. Whatever.

Anyway, Tony soon decided I should go downstairs and open the windows while Lindsay decided she would call our landlord and give him a piece of her mind. I did, and also took a time out to put on some sweatpants and grab a few beers because, duh.

By the time Dave came home, our place didn't smell as bad and he decided it was safe to head back down to our floor. Also, he determined that the weird smell was clearly spray paint that our "handyman" had been using on the doors he was building.

So here we are.

The apartment's been aired out, I don't think I'm high and our dinner just arrived. All is right with the world, but just in case we don't wake up tomorrow, it's been nice knowing you.

All the things

2011-09-28T18:41:00.000-05:00

My current Facebook status:

Happy Daughter / Mother / Breast Cancer Awareness / Puppy Dog / Wearing-White-After-Labor-Day / Gambling / Palm Tree / Hipster Appreciation / Dyslexia / Tea Party / Pygmy-Goat-Riding-A-Unicycle Day/Week! I love/hate all/some of those things. If you do too, repost, like, comment on, share, print, frame and worship this status.

amirite?

PS - The palm tree mention is throw to my mom. HI, MOM.

Expert travelers...or something

2011-09-18T22:39:00.000-05:00

Dave's been on Long Island for the past 10 days and is almost halfway through his business training for work. (Yeah, it's about as exciting as it sounds.) Meanwhile, I have successfully fed myself and kept this apartment from looking like a home on Hoarders, so things are going QUITE well over here too.

Tomorrow, though, I leave my dear Chicago and venture off to Denver for some work training of my own...whatever that will include. I'll only be there for a few days, but I'll be renting a car and hopefully only getting lost 5 or 6 times. Really, anything under 10 would be rad.

Anyway, this coming weekend, Dave gets a break from training and travels over to Manhattan for some good, ol' city fun. And, apparently, he's very excited about it.

So, my New York friends, keep an eye out for this nerd. Might I suggest you focus on gutters, bar floors and gypsy cabs....?

My drunk grandma...

2011-09-15T12:28:00.004-05:00

...Now has her own corner of The Interwebs.

http://www.mydrunkgrandma.com

You're welcome. Or, I'm sorry. I'm not sure which yet.

Renegade

2011-09-12T19:30:00.000-05:00

Renegade Craft Fair has its pluses. It's close enough for me to walk to, it takes place during a glorious time in Chicago and it even has some cute things for sale.

But it's also overrun with hipsters, some handmade trash and high price tags, and THAT is super-annoying.

So when I see posts like this (Missed Connections), I can't help but smile.

Of life and legs

2011-09-12T11:55:00.000-05:00

Over the last decade or so, I've found that the stages of a gal's life and relationship status can be measured by the state of her legs.

In my experience, there have been 4 leg/life/relationship levels.

Status: Single
Legs: Shaved often enough, but only really before heading out for the evening
Reason: You never know. *wink, wink*

Status: In a relationship
Legs: Shaved to perfection. With shaving cream, even!
Reason: Look how flawless I am. You totally want to marry this.

Status: Married
Legs: Shaved haphazardly in a speedy shower
Reason: I'm late for work and it's not your birthday.

Status: My business-traveling husband is in New York for the rest of September
Legs: I have legs?

It's a new low, y'all.

Open mouth, insert foot, cash paycheck

2011-09-09T11:33:00.000-05:00

Well, folks, it looks like my professional purgatory is coming to an end. Here's how things have gone down.

Sam
Sam, the dude with no real personality (read: not cool work) proposed (offered me the job) with a verrrrry expensive ring (excellent salary). I told him I couldn't accept because I was waiting for Barry. Sam didn't care to wait so he moved on. Bye bye, Sam.

Barry
Oh, Barry. Rather than proposing outright, he asked me to start living with him (writing for free for his blog) for one week. I agreed...but the work I had to do was not suited to my strengths. Suffice to say I was disenchanted. So, after all this time, I broke up with him. I think it was the right thing to do.

Miles
Remember when I was all, oh, this bullshit guy? Well, we're totally getting married. He waited for me, there turned out to be a lot of substance there, I like his family (my new coworkers) and it just feels right. And the work? The work looks awesome. We're talking magazine-style publications, kick-ass marketing campaigns, shocking creative support from the top and lots of room for creativity. We're working out some details now, but the wedding should be at the end of this month.

So there you have it. Retirement will be over, I'll have to start wearing pants again and my bank account won't be so shriveled up. (ZAPPOS, I'VE MISSED YOU.)

It's a new step -- hopefully one in the right direction -- and I'm excited to see what will come next.

Someone had a bad day

2011-09-06T13:24:00.000-05:00

Over the weekend, I received a text from a random (773) phone number informing me, "This is my new number."

Unsure who "my" referred to, I tried to think which of my friends was not only getting a new number but was also absent-minded enough not to tell me who the heck they are. I came up with nothing. Sooo, I responded.

Done. Won't hear from them again, I thought.

The next morning, I was awoken by my phone going off before 8:00. As I do with all communication attempts before I've rolled out of bed, I ignored it.

Then my phone beeped again. Again, I ignored it.

When I woke up an hour and a half later, I checked my phone and saw this:

Oh, dear. My sweet, dumb, mystery person. Not the best morning for you.

So I responded much more directly this time.

And then all was right with the world.

Alaskan near-death cruise?

2011-08-25T12:27:00.000-05:00

Mom and Dad are back from their Alaskan cruise.

Alive.

Thank god.

A sucker for nail color

2011-08-23T13:33:00.000-05:00

I rarely get manicures.

Mostly because I opt for basic color rather than this cool shit, and I simply can't justify spending the money (or getting my ass off the couch) to have someone do what I can do in my home...albeit sloppier and slower.

But one thing I do spend money on is nail polish, which is exactly what I just did in anticipation for Fall/Winter 2011.

Behold:

British Racing Green

Dark, “hunter green” that was the backstage darling when used at this season's shows.

Fash Pack

An edgy and unusual color. Putty meets mushroom. Sounds strange and wrong, but somehow it works, like deep fried Mars bars.

Pillar Box Red

A good red is like your favorite LBD. It makes you look and feel your best, even when you’re faking it.

Chimney Sweep

Smudgy, sexy, and just a little dirty. A proper charcoal grey with a touch of a metallic finish. Hot.

La Moss

Vampy and full of red wine, just like its inspiration.

ButterLondon.com

Hide yo' kids, hide yo' iPods

2011-08-19T10:43:00.000-05:00

J recently had a break-in to her apartment. Thankfully, she wasn't there when it happened, but good lord that's freaky. Someone else. In your home. Taking your stuff. I kind of wanted to move her into my second bedroom for a while, but anyone who knows her knows that the offer would be met with a genuine smile and a "no thanks, you're being insane" eye roll.

Even though I've been locking all the doors I can possibly find ever since I heard this news, I don't think anyone would have an easy time getting into my particular apartment because of my gigantic dog...

As much of a lover as he is, he sounds like he could do some serious damage to your bones if he hears you outside.

Like my own little murdering alarm system.

But I realized something this morning.

If we ever buy a house -- like, with more than one story -- he'd let anyone in, as long as they break into a floor that he is not on.

Burglars above us, on the roof? "No biggie," he'd think.

Thieves below us, in the basement? "They probably belong there."

Roly-poly kleptos stealing all the food from the kitchen (while Roc rests in MY bed upstairs)? "I wonder if they'll drop anything for me..."

FAIL DOG.

(Yet another reason not to buy a single-family place.)

Anyway, stay safe out there, people. Lock your doors, lock your windows and let me know if you ever need to borrow The Roc.

Puppy update

2011-08-08T11:02:00.000-05:00

Well, Bella's gone and we're back to being a one-pup household.

She was obviously a sweetheart, but it was a little too much for us to handle -- and would have become impossible once Dave starts work and begins traveling 4 days a week. (SINGLE PARENT FTW.) I have decided that I don't want to be outweighed by my pets, so we can only get little fouffy dogs from here on out.

Of course, the good news is that our little girl went to a foster-to-adopt home with a woman that works remotely and can give Bells the attention she needs. Fingers crossed it works out because that dog really deserves it.

In the meantime, Dave casually mentioned something to me while on our rescue's Facebook page the other day...

"Hey, Lis, look at how cute this pit is."

Yes. Cute.

Cue me scrolling through to read the comments about this sweet-looking gal.

Cue me seeing DAVE comment about fostering her.

"Oh, yeah, I said we might be interested in fostering her," he shrugs.

You what, now?

"Just a foster, not adopt! Come on, look at that face."

Look at MY face.

"We'll just do a meet-and-greet and see if she and Rocco get along."

I don't recall that ever being a problem with Rocco.

"Oh, look, they already emailed us."

So, we may be fostering another Court Case pup next week. And we may not. Someone is already interested in adopting her, so she might not even need a foster home at all. We'll see...

Breaking up is hard to do

2011-08-07T09:12:00.001-05:00

Well, Miles took a leap and invited me to go away with him for a weekend out of town. To meet his family. To be, ya know, SERIOUS.

(Translation: I was invited to interview at the company's HQ out west. This, after 2 phone interviews, 1 local in-person interview and a writing sample.)

I got a weird feeling like he was going to propose on this trip.

So, like an abnormal person, I panicked. I don't really want to take this step in our relationship. I mean, I'm seeing other people! Other people that I like better! My instinct was to spill my guts to Miles and tell him about my other main prospect (Barry). I don't want to waste Miles' money if I'm not really all that into him. I'll sleep better if I put it out there. But is that the right move, professionally?

To find out, I called my friend to ask her what she thought I should do.

"Well, what if Barry comes back tomorrow and tells you 'no'?" she asked. "Would you want to be with Miles then?"

"Nope," I told her. "Maybe Sam. Most likely Carl. Not Miles though."

We talked through all the details and my friend confirmed my instincts. It was time to have The Talk with Miles. Time to be honest. Time to do the right thing.

Which is what I did on Friday.

And then I held my breath.

Update: Miles totally doesn't care and still wants me to visit. Okay, bud, will do, but this isn't going to end well (for you).

He called the shit "poop"

2011-08-04T13:21:00.000-05:00

If there's one thing I know about my husband, it's that he will always laugh at a poop joke. Without fail. I guess most men will. But one little poop joke recently took his amusement to a level I had never experienced before.

It won't surprise you to learn that the joke came from Louis CK. Before I link it, let me just set the scene...

We are driving back from our beach vacation, listening to one of Louis' sets from 2010. Specifically, Dave is driving and I'm in the front seat.

The joke starts out about Louis' 3-year-old daughter getting bit by a pony and soon drifts into poop territory.

With the first visual description of a turd, Dave bursts out into booms of laughter. His mouth is wide open, his eyes are watering and he is practically having an amusement-induced seizure.

"TAKE...THE...WHEEL," he gasps, in between convulsions.

What the hell is wrong with my husband? I've never seen him so giddy he's practically blind!

I then begin exploding with laughter. Not just because the joke is hilarious (it is) but also because I have never seen this man laugh so hard at anything during our 7 years together.

I grab the wheel and take over the steering while Dave alternates between approving claps and involuntary convulsions. This goes on until I can no longer see the road through my tears and beg him to drive himself. With one hand clutching his stomach, he puts his other hand on the wheel and manages to get through the entire poop joke without killing us.

So what was so funny?

This.

Either that's the most hilarious clip I've ever seen or else I was beyond delusional after hours upon hours of travel.

How Pandora should be

2011-08-01T16:16:00.001-05:00

I love Pandora.

I would love this Pandora even more.

Via The Oatmeal

Professional Purgatory

2011-07-31T16:57:00.000-05:00

I'm at a point in my coming-out-of-retirement job search that is nothing short of awkward. Uncomfortable. Uncertain.

I don't like it.

I imagine it's a lot like dating a few different guys at once -- one of which you really, really like, but you're still unsure about how he feels. If my job search were a relationship, this is where I'd be with Suitor #1. Let's call him Barry.

Barry and I have flirted before, but we've been on 3 actual ~~interviews~~ dates. He's out of my league, but I'm going for it anyway. Sure, it seems like he might be ready to make it official, but he moves soooo slowly. All my cards are on the table and the final decision rests with Barry now. It's a waiting game. Will he call or won't he? Should I wait? How can I not? I NEED TO KNOW WHERE THIS RELATIONSHIP IS GOING, BARRY. I know you told me you need more time, but I'm dying over here.

In the meantime, there's Suitor #2. We'll call him Sam. Sam and I are going on ~~interview~~ date number 2 this week, and I'm still sorting through my feelings. He means well, he tries hard and he's made it clear we could be together for the long haul. He's got a lot more money than Barry, but less personality. And I don't know how long he's willing to wait while I wait for an official proposal or rejection from my first love.

Then, there's Suitor #3: Miles. Miles is like my boy toy. I'm not terribly interested in him, but I like having him around as an option. We've got our second ~~interview~~ date this week too. Dude can't really afford my tastes, but he adores me and I like the attention. I'm charming the pants off him and using his affection to fill the void I feel from Barry's silence. I know. Pathetic.

Finally, there's Potential Suitor #4. Carl. We have a mutual friend and even though I know nothing about him, that's good enough for me to keep him in the running. She likes him, I'd like him. We could be great together.

And as if this isn't enough of a mind fuck, I'm still giving my number out to other suitors too. Maybe "The One" is still out there.

Or maybe I'm just ridiculously neurotic.

Either way, I'm hoping this mess with all be straightened out within a month so I can get the hell out of professional purgatory. I guess I'm just not meant to play the field.

Senior Bachelorette: Drunk Grandma Edition

2011-07-27T19:50:00.000-05:00

On Monday, we watched a bit of The Bachelorette. It inspired us to pimp out my grandma for a Senior Edition of the show... So, we pumped her full of wine and asked her a bunch of questions.

This is totally unedited (and thus awkward), but it's just one of our family vacation amusements.

Enjoy.

PART 1

Senior Bachelorette: Grandma Roz Edition from David on Vimeo.

PART 2

Senior Bachelorette: Grandma Roz Pt 2 from David on Vimeo.

Also... we have another video full of Grandma's life lessons. Consider this fair warning.

It's time

2011-07-18T13:15:00.000-05:00

Well, family vacation is here once again. Time for my fam (minus my sister) and Dave's fam (minus his dad) to venture off to Virginia Beach.

It's a little awkward to take a vacation in the midst of, well, your retirement-vacation, but whatevs.

On Wednesday, we drive to Cleveland.
On Thursday, we celebrate my niece's 7th birthday.
On Friday, the boys go to an Indians game.
On Saturday, we wake up at 4am and begin the road trip to the east coast.

Then it's a week filled with sand, sun, good food and too much booze.

But not my sister.

Like I mentioned, my sister has chosen not to go this year, which is...sucky. Back when she was using, she came on vacation and was AWFUL to my uncle's family. Specifically my aunt. No one was blameless in their volatile relationship (and I had my fair share of issues with my aunt as well), but Carrie crossed the line. Big time. I would have thought it would have done irreparable damage to the family, but I would have been wrong. Forgiveness is a powerful thing.

Last year, Carrie came on vacation for the first time without a single drug in her system. My aunt was not there. I think it went really well and was a great primer for this year.

This is what I woke up to at one point on our fishing trip.

Our little chef

With mom

In the middle of it all

This year, my aunt WILL be there and my sister has decided not to join us. I just don't understand it. The house we're staying in was built for two families, so there's plenty of space. Carrie would have her own bedroom she could escape to whenever she needed. Hell, she could escape to Dave's family's condo if she wanted! She's also the only of us kids with a steady job right now and she's kicking ass in the kitchen she works at. She's in such a good place. There's nothing to feel down/defensive about. So why not spend time with the family for a week?

I even suggested she just come for 4 days and then fly back home on her own. She was interested in that, so I don't know why that didn't pan out.

It will be an interesting year at the beach, I guess. I'm still looking forward to it, but... it really won't be the same.

My own ghost adventure

2011-07-17T11:06:00.000-05:00

I can't be sure, but I think I might be haunted.

The other night, sometime after 12am, I woke up to Dave kneeling at the end of the bed. One of the dogs was down there, so I assumed that he was probably moving her or something of that nature. (She tends to take over his side quite a bit.)

I felt the end of the bed moving as if Dave were fidgeting down there FOR NO REASON. I dislike being woken up, so I figured I'd squint open my eyes and give an exasperated sigh that meant, "Stop whatever the hell you're doing and go to sleep."

I opened my eyes and saw his outline -- his hair looked messy and he was facing me -- and even though he couldn't really see me in the dark, I rolled my eyes. Then I did my sigh and flopped over on my side, facing his part of the bed.

And that's when I noticed Dave sleeping peacefully right fucking next to me.

WHO THE HELL WAS ON MY BED?

The foster dog does not have a human face with messy boy hair, so it wasn't her. How freaky is that?

Even more freaky when I remember two nights earlier when I felt Dave touch my stomach while I was half-asleep. I peeked open to see him and, once again, he was passed out next to me. I brushed it off thinking that it must have been one of the dogs (their paws turn into human hands at night, right?) and went back to sleep.

But now?

I don't know.

I'm gonna have to call Zak Bagans to investigate.

Not pregnant, just PMSy

2011-07-15T12:59:00.000-05:00

While watching Dexter last night, this thing made an appearance on my screen.

Me: What is that for?

Dave: Warming bottles. Because I guess microwaves aren't "good enough" anymore.

Me: Oh, that's right.

Dave: Dumb. Just use a microwave.

Me: No, Dave, microwaves seriously don't heat bottles evenly.

Dave: Oh, please. That thing is pointless.

Me: NO IT'S NOT. Microwaves don't heat evenly!

Dave: Come on.

Me: SHUT UP, DAVE, WE'RE GETTING ONE.

Dave: Uh, what?

Me: DEAL WITH IT.

Dave: No. We're not buying one. Ever.

Me: IT'S A NECESSITY. I'm buying it tomorrow.

Hi, I'm Lisa and I'm PMSy today.

Who-dy what-y?

2011-07-03T11:04:00.000-05:00

These are the last few @ replies I've gotten on Twitter.

Spambots and someone who thinks I am her "BF," which I thought meant "boyfriend." And, no, that's not the first time that's happened.

Calm assertive state

2011-06-27T17:19:00.001-05:00

I admit it: I've watched quite a bit of Dog Whisperer in my day.

I've learned a lot...namely, little dogs are huge assholes when you act like they are human babies, a swift "SHHHHHPPPPPT" noise will correct many behaviors and Cesar Millan really, really likes rollerblades.

A common theme in the show isn't just training dogs, but having the owners become the Pack Leeeeeeeader. In my house, I like to think I'm Pack Leader, but if we're being honest, this is the one the dogs listen to:

Spray bottle of doom.

[It's filled with water. I don't *actually* Febreze my dog(s)...]

Yep, that's the trick. When the spray bottle comes out, the dogs go right to a submissive state. Oh, you want to bark incessantly at nothing? SPRAY BOTTLE. You're going to play right after eating, so Rocco throws up? SPRAY BOTTLE. You're going to play on my awesome, new couch? SPRAY BOTTLE.

It's hardly parenting pioneering over here, but it works and that's all I care about. I am Mom. I am dominant. And I will spray the shit out of you if you act like a jerk in my house. And then I will cuddle you afterwards because I feel a little guilty. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

Housewifery

2011-06-17T19:19:00.005-05:00

Today, Jessi had the day off and she wanted a real "real housewives" day. As someone who watches the trainwreck that is the Bravo reality series, this is my specialty.

But, our adventures were decidedly less dramatic...

THE PLAN VERSUS THE REALITY

Wake up late.	Woke up late.
Greet each other with European air kisses.	Said, "What up."
Be drunk by noon.	Left my apartment after noon.
Get chauffered around in a limo.	Drove us in my Jetta.
Run errands.	Ran errands.
Parade around with my baby while holding a glass of wine.	Paraded around Whole Foods with a glass of wine.

Get in a fight with each other.	Enjoyed each other's company.
Throw a drink in someone's face.	Spilled some wine in the kitchen.
Eat lunch outside and glare at people.	At lunch outside and smiled at Honeycat.

Get Botox.	Talked about Botox.
Spend thousands of dollars on frivolous things.	Spend tens of dollars on necessary things like food and booze.
Run into someone I hate.	Ran into a nice man who educated Jessi on the finer points of canned fish.

I'll take my reality over theirs any day.

Decisions, decisions

2011-06-16T10:19:00.005-05:00

When I was young, I wanted to get my ears pierced. I told my mom, who, surprisingly, told me that I could do it -- but that it would hurt. Even then, as a durable, injury-prone, bounce-back-from-anything gymnast, I wasn't good with pain. I started to reconsider...

Then, my mom and grandma told me to make a pros and cons list to help me decide. I thought of tons of pros (I'd look pretty, I liked jewelry, I'd be grown-up, etc.) and only one con: needle through ear hurts. A lot.

If pro-and-con lists were about length alone, the decision would have been easy. With far more pros than cons, I'd have done it instantly. But that one, singular, painful con carried much more weight for me. It took me ages to actually pull the trigger, no pun intended. But I finally did it. And now? I hardly wear earrings.

I thought about that little story in bed the other night when I was wondering whether or not we should keep this new dog in our house. There are plenty of pros and cons floating around, but once again this isn't a decision than can be boiled down to a few words on a piece of Lisa Frank paper.

This dog is sweet, smart and loving. She and Rocco get along so well. She likes to cuddle and sleep. She doesn't have a sensitive stomach. She's a pleaser.

But...

My house is more crowded. My floors have been peed on once a day. The dogs set each other off when one hears a noise. The playing is overkill.

We're all still adjusting, I know. Things have gotten better each day. If we didn't already have Rocco, this would be a no-brainer because this dog is just so awesome. But is it the right long-term living situation for the four of us?

As they say, time will tell.

Summer Updates

2011-06-06T10:19:00.006-05:00

Well, it's summer. Bring on the beaches, beer gardens and barbecues. Chicago is an incredible city to live in during these few months, so I plan to take full advantage.

But, before we get to that, there are a few updates I should toss out here...

Goodbye to Oprah

While America said goodbye to their favorite afternoon talk show, I said goodbye to my beloved job. Working on the show was, by far, the greatest job I could have asked for. But, it's time to move on for many of us and I don't think there's a single person on staff who could say they were 100% happy to walk away from this job, these coworkers and this company. (Though, let me say, OW throws one hell of a farewell party.)

My dept -- best people ever.

Hello to Retirement

Where do you go from Oprah? I'm thinking the president...or retirement. You know, go out on a high note. I'm exploring both options right now but if there's ever a time to retire, it's Chicago in the summer. Plus, "retirement" sounds way better than "unemployment." This summer's retirement plans include:

A trip to the West Coast to see a few friends like Billy, Joe and Dave's cousin.
Many days spent at my fav beach -- Ohio Street. (Perhaps the only douche-free beach in the city.)
Exercise. I'm less enthused about this, but it stays on the list.
A drive to Memphis with the pup(s) to see my folks and all the new shit they're doing to their house.
Our family vacation to Virginia Beach with my fam, my aunt/uncle and Dave's fam.
Sleeping in, playing Call of Duty and drinking summery things like Vodka-Lemonades.

Welcoming Margie/Bella/Stella/Roger
Since Dave and I are both free from work this summer, we thought now would be the best time to bring another little furball into our home. So, we had Rocco meet his potential sister about a week ago and they adored each other! Her name is Margie but she responds to Bella, so we were hoping to keep a similar-sounding name. We're thinking "Stella," but my brother has already decided he will be calling her "Roger."

Now we'll be fostering her for two weeks starting on the 13th to see if she'll be a good fit in our home. If she's not, well, then we're never meant to get a second dog because this one is just awesome.

Aaaaand that's it! It's only June 6, but it's already shaping up to be a month of big changes... Hopefully all good.

So this happened

2011-05-24T14:18:00.006-05:00

My grandma is quite the character.

She's an 80-year-old Long Island Jew with a penchant for Crown Royal and a love of art. She says words like "exquisite" on a regular basis and calls everyone "darling," though it sounds more like "daw-ling" with her thick New York accent. She has a boyfriend who lives in California, recently went white-water rafting, adores traveling around the world and doesn't go a day without wearing mascara. Oh, and she looks like she's 65.

Yep, that's my grandma.

Just yesterday, she was returning to her home in Memphis from a visit to her bf in California. In keeping with her unique personality, Grandma also like to chat with anyone and everyone. And I guess this includes heavy metal icons from the 80s, as evidenced by my mom's tweets...

Wait, what?

Grandma just made friends with a guy from Whitesnake?

Of course she did. Because it's Grandma.

Her life never ceases to amaze me.

POTUS

2011-05-12T13:01:00.000-05:00

Hello, neglected blog. I wish I had more time to write, but things are too busy right now. So, in the meantime, here's a quick story.

Once upon a time, the President came to my work.

We made eye contact, he smiled, he winked and he said, "How ya doing?"

I think this is what my face did:

The end.

Help

2011-04-22T11:11:00.002-05:00

I need your help, friends. Help with the following:

1. What eyeliner do you use?
I use a Revlon eye pencil or something and that shit smudges within 10 minutes of putting it on.

2. What book did you just read and can't stop recommending?
I'm a fan of mysteries, thrillers and anything that could be a Law & Order episode, but I'm open to all kinds of genres.

3. Do you have a favorite self tanner?
Never used one, don't want to be streaky. Or an Oompa. So, I'd need something idiot-proof.

Okay... GO.

OMG DADDY'S HOME

2011-04-15T09:29:00.004-05:00

When Dave came back from China, I took (blurry) video of Rocco seeing his dad for the first time in 6 weeks.

Such a pea-brain.

Rocco! from David on Vimeo.

Also, the reason Roc ran away and took his Kong bone into the bedroom is because he's started ripping it apart instead of playing with it like a normal dog:

Again...

Pea-brain.

But we love him.

If I had a food blog

2011-04-11T10:45:00.007-05:00

I made some food yesterday.

Apparently, it tasted good.

Jessi and Molly told me I should start a food blog.

Here is what it would look like:

Chop-a-Bunch-of-Shit-and-Throw-it-in-a-Bowl Salsa

Image: TKTC

Ingredients:

Tomatoes
Avocados
Red onion
Feta cheese
Garlic
Parsley
Oregano
Olive oil
White wine vinegar

Directions:
Do exactly what it says here... http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Avocado-Feta-Salsa/Detail.aspx

Coleslaw That Isn't Boring But IS Really, Really Easy. And Good.

Image: TKTC

Ingredients:

Shredded cabbage
Basil
Dill
Mayo
Half-and-half
Cider vinegar
Sugar
Pepper

Directions:
Do exactly what it says here... http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Basil-Dill-Coleslaw/Detail.aspx

I read, therefore I cook.

Chemistry, y'all

2011-04-07T21:41:00.003-05:00

Title page of Dave's dissertation:

Am I the only one that starts singing that song from Brownies/Girl Scouts when I see "silver" and "gold"? Make new friennnnds, but keeeeep the ollllllld... ONE IS SILVER AND THE OTHER GOLD.

No?

Okay, never mind.

Over and out

2011-03-30T08:30:00.006-05:00

Well, friends, Dave's China trip is almost up. It's hard to believe 6 weeks have already come and gone, but as of right now, I'm 28 hours away from seeing my husband and I CAN'T WAIT. Seriously. It's disgusting, even to me.

But, now that Dave's Wild Asian Adventure is over, it's the perfect time to recaps my highs and lows of living alone...

HIGHS

I learned how to parallel park by myself.
I didn't forget to feed my dog once.
I did some pilates a few times. Okay, fine, twice.
I leveled up on Call of Duty.
I finally got my hair cut.
I had lovely, boozy playdates with Ang, Suz and Jessi.
I wore my new, cute, yellow ballet flats from Cole Haan.
I drove Roc to Cleveland so he could play with his cousin and I could get drunk with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law.
I met my new neighbors and their adorable Boxer -- love them all.
I bought 6 pairs of shoes, 6 dresses, 11 shirts, a pair of pants and 3 belts.
The weather warmed up!... For half a second. We'll take it.
I saw Suz's new condo and it's awesome.
I found a convenient, lovely spa that I will be going to instead of the uber-expensive Bliss for my facials.
My sister came in town and made amends.

LOWS

I lost my apartment keys.
And mail key.
And almost locked the dog in the car. ALMOST.
I rarely cooked for myself.
I often ate popcorn for dinner.
I got into bed embarrassingly early every weeknight.
I got sick and sounded like a chain-smoking, truck-stop hooker for three days.
I almost ran over a little woman with my boat of a car.
We frequently lost at trivia.
My dog may or may not have eaten chocolate, so I pumped him full of meds and Benadryl out of sheer panic.

Eh, let's call it a draw.

Dave's China

2011-03-23T08:48:00.007-05:00

As of two days ago, Dave left the hellhole that is Lanzhou and embarked on his 10-day vacation across the more modernized parts of China. He's already seen Tienanmen Square and the Great Wall, and tomorrow he departs for Shanghai for more sightseeing and fun.

However, before this little vacation of his, he was stuck in one of the most industrial (read: crappy) cities in the country. This shit was downright Third World! Well... that might be a tad dramatic, but here, judge for yourself:

Dave only had 2 hours of hot water allowed in his dorm. Showering, apparently, was a luxury.

His lab had squat toilets. This is a squat toilet:

He had no access to a laundry room or laundromat, so he had to do his laundry in the bathtub. The bathtub!

He could really only stare at a wall for entertainment after work, since he couldn't stream any TV shows or movies online.

His lab had no heat and typically hovered around 30 degrees, so when he worked, he had to bundle up and pray for sunshine.

Just a reminder to be thankful, America. We are so, so spoiled.

Another difference between the North and South

2011-03-21T09:25:00.001-05:00

...High School Reunion Edition.

NORTH
My mom's 10-year high school reunion was held at a nightclub in Manhattan.

SOUTH
My 10-year high school reunion will be a family picnic in the middle of the afternoon.

There best be booze, otherwise Jessi, Molly and I are going to look like a bunch of drunk, child-less assholes.

Renters 4 life

2011-03-17T21:31:00.003-05:00

This is what $730k would buy me in Cleveland:

It even has its own tennis court. TENNIS COURT.

This is what $730k would buy me in Chicago:
That, my friends, is why it's unlikely that I will be a homeowner as long as I live in this beautiful, beautiful city. I love it so, but... damn.

My bad

2011-03-09T16:56:00.001-06:00

Sometimes I really suck at driving. I mean, not in general, but we all have those momentary lapses when judgment and reason fly out the window and we do something completely dumbass -- which I did today.

After work, I ran to Walgreens and picked up a few things before heading home... like, 50 ft away.

I turn down my street and start to pull into the alley behind my apartment. And, of course, a huge white minivan (DIE, minivan) was coming down the alley without any hope of two of us fitting through there. I sighed and sat there for a minute making sure I could actually back up before getting out of their way.

Finally, I get a clearing and I slowly back up... and then someone hits my car with their fists.

Fists!

I stop short and immediately turn around to see who this asshole is. It's some tiny, middle-aged woman who was trying to get my attention because I was, ya know, about to hit her. Guess the asshole's me!

But instead of this little mishap ending there, she looks right at me and shrieks the most idiotic thing one could possibly say in such a moment.

"DID YOU SEE ME???!?"

Are you kidding? Yeah, lady, I saw you, but it's just one of my little quirks to try to plow down folks in the neighborhood. Come on! Also, you're two feet tall! I gave her the oddest look and yelled back, "UH, NO, OF COURSE NOT!" And then I did some flailing hand gestures that Italians so often do, pulled out safely and let the minivan (ugh) get out of the way.

And then I was really glad I had just picked up another refill of my Lexapro.

The end.

Another gem from Al

2011-03-08T16:43:00.003-06:00

So, I've been playing around with the idea of throwing Dave a little party once he graduates with his PhD in May. This degree has been 6 years in the making and since I've been around the entire duration, I like to think of it as a party for both of us... But never mind that. Oh, also, Al is graduating with his Masters this summer too, but ALEX NO GET PARTY. At least, not a party thrown by me.

Anyway, today, I sent Al the link to a place I'm thinking of for Dave's little bash. And then he sent this...

Alex:

LISA
have you considered this place for dave's thing

http://www.ulcc.org/Default.aspx?p=DynamicModule&pageid=309675&ssid=198220&vnf=1

Because you're too lazy to click the link, here's a picture of the place he suggests:

Me:

Oh hai I'm not made of money

Alex:

oh hai i upgrade your ram

BUT THE STENCILED 28 FOOT CEILING BEAMS!

Me:

Well, that's lovely.

But the general rule is this: if it's nice enough that weddings can be thrown there, it is out of my budget.

Tell Dad that's where you want your own party

2 YEARS MASTERS DEGREE BOW DOWN

Alex:

hahahahaha

f yes

my party is going to put yours to SHAME

Me:

You'd better not have yours on the same night, you asshole

Alex:

im inviting the governor. beat THAT

Me:

I'm inviting Obama

Alex:

im inviting jesus

OH WAIT SAME PERSON

Me:

HA HA

I'm inviting John McCain riding a dinosaur

Alex:

i would invite charlie sheen but he'll probably break everything

so instead im inviting john wayne's corpse driving a delorean drinking a four loko

Me:

You #win

If his brain weren't the size of a pea, he'd be ashamed

2011-03-04T09:05:00.006-06:00

I, like most dog parents, take an obscene amount of pictures of my dog. And, apparently, I take way, way more pictures of him when Dave is gone and not here to stop me.

Case in point:

Awkward cuddles with Aunt Suz

Playing video games

Almost setting himself on fire

Skyping with daddy

Parenthood FTW.

A relationship rant for Thursday

2011-03-03T11:37:00.005-06:00

Just once, I would like to see an article on relationships/marriage that doesn't take cheap shots or use passive-aggressive (uh, or straight-up aggressive) language for the other side.

Two examples...

Why You're Not Married
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tracy-mcmillan/why-youre-not-married_b_822088.html

"The problem is not men. It's you."
"You're a bitch."
"Working around a man's fear and insecurity is big part of what you'll be doing as a wife."
"You're shallow. / You're a slut. / You're a liar. / You're selfish."
"A good wife, even a halfway decent one, does not spend most of her day thinking about herself."

Message: You're single because you're kind of awful and no man wants someone like you. (He wants a smiling, perky little thing to do his laundry, feed his ego and put him first.)

An Open Letter to the Women Who Are Telling Me It's My Fault I'm Not Married
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brienne-walsh/an-open-letter-to-the-wom_b_829378.html

"As I was leaving, she said to me, with a great deal of kindness: 'You're pretty, and you're smart. It's a curse. You'll have a lot of difficulty finding a man.' It could have been crushing, if I wasn't aware of it already."
"In essence, in order to participate in the ritual custom of marriage, we have to become shadows of our best selves."

Message: You're not married because you're too awesome, too pretty, too educated, too powerful and too much of a fucking delight. (Those empty married folks? They didn't have much else going on in the looks or career department, so they got hitched instead.)

Sigh. Do you really know why you're not married? Me neither. And neither do these authors. And neither does anyone else. Except maybe Jessica Ravitz, who sums it up with a no-nonsense: "Sure, you might be a bitch, a slut, a liar, shallow, selfish or not good enough. Maybe, though, you happen to be 41 and single because life, real life with all its complications, has just worked out that way. So far."

That goes for everyone, married or not: life just worked out that way.

I believe I'm married because my life worked out in a way that I found Dave when I was young. It feels more like dumb luck than anything I planned, did or didn't do. And I'm getting annoyed with articles that ignore the role of luck while simultaneously taking a shit on women on the other side of the marriage line. I know women who are happy being married and women who are happy being single, and I also know that it's absurd to shove us all in the same box, toss around a bunch of labels and draw black-and-white conclusions based on little more than insufferable superiority.

So stop it.

/rant

It's the little things

2011-03-01T20:04:00.002-06:00

Currently finding happiness in:

My dog wanting so many cuddles that he interrupts my pilates by sitting ON TOP of me -- ab workout be damned.
Cleveland vacation plans that include manis, pedis, massages and booze with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law.
Parking in the lot at work -- not way down the street -- while most people are on hiatus.
The anticipation of spring and warmer weather.
Those mini wine bottles that allow us to get buzzed without wasting an ounce of Pinot.
My freelancing pay raise.
Hulu episodes of Pretty Little Liars.
Playing Call of Duty with Ben and the boys (they're so good, even my shittiness can't make us lose).
Searching Craigslist for outrageous apartments out of my price range.

Comedy of errors

2011-02-27T00:19:00.003-06:00

My brother came over tonight. Being the good sister I am, I offered to drive him home when he needed to leave. We left my apartment at 10:15pm. I got back home 2 hours later.

2 HOURS.

Here's how it went down...

We hop into the car with the dog at 10:15. Al gets Rocco settled, turns on the defrost and turns on the seat heaters, while I brush all the snow off the Jetta. The 3 of us have a leisurely ride to Wrigleyville and I drop him off without incident.

On my way home, Rocco jumps into the front seat as he always does. And sits down like a person as he always does. And triggers the PUT YOUR SEATBELT ON NOW beeping... as he always does. We ride back to the west side with that damn alert going off every 30 seconds.

We get home and I pull into my parking space. I grab my purse, toss Rocco's leash back on and get out of the car. My clumsy little bull tries to get out of the car, somehow gets his foot caught and yelps excessively.

I dropped to the ground to console him. After a few minutes, he's fine and I take him around the side of the apt to do his business before we go to bed -- which he does. As we're walking back to my place, I fish around in my purse for my keys.

No keys.

I fish around some more.

Where the shit are my keys??

I walk back to the car and start digging through the seats. No keys. I put the dog back in the car so I don't have to worry about him while I'm searching. Still no keys. Maybe I dropped them when I took him to poo, I think.

I get out of the car (Rocco still in) and walk over to his spot. Of course, no keys there either. So I walk back to the car and go to open the driver's side door.

It is locked.

It is locked with my dog in the car.

My stomach churns. I look at Rocco. He looks at me. I try the door again. Locked. Oh good god. Now is the time when I regret getting a keyless, auto-lock vehicle.

I go around to the passenger side door and by some miracle, it is not locked. I have no idea how, nor do I care. I get in the car, call my brother and tell him I'm driving all the way back to Wrigleyville to get his set of keys to my place.

And so we set off again.

During the drive, Rocco once again sits in the passenger seat and triggers the seatbelt alert for the next 20 minutes. Another fun thing is that I turned right onto a street while the light was yellow and alllllll sorts of flashes went off. So, I'm probably getting a $100 ticket too.

At this point, it's about midnight and the dog and I are both exhausted. (Him more than me because I'd slipped him a Benadryl in his dinner earlier.) I grab my keys from Al, drive back home and manage to avoid any more issues.

Let's recap my night:
Drive Al home.
Get back, freak out like the dog broke his leg.
Realize I lost my apt keys.
Almost lock the dog in the car.
Get caught by an intersection camera.
All within a 2 hour period.

And now I must go to bed. Roc passed out the second we got home while I relayed these events to Dave over Skype. Tomorrow, I bet I find those damn keys in the bottom of my purse.

Miss Independent

2011-02-22T13:07:00.002-06:00

Me:

ALEX

Alex:

ya whatup

Me:

I parallel parked

Alex:

WHOA

Me:

I KNOW

All by myself

1 try

Alex:

HOW MANY THINGS DID YOU HIT

Me:

NONE

Alex:

WHO DID YOU KILL

Me:

NO ONE

Alex:

I AM CHECKING CHICAGOBREAKINGNEWS.COM RIGHT NOW

Me:

I hate you

Sweet skills:

Okay, so it was a massive space. Baby steps.

Stupid China

2011-02-21T21:30:00.005-06:00

Dave's gone. It's sad. Been taking care of myself. Kitchen has yet to catch fire.

That's basically the gist of it. I mean, it's only been a few days... But it's going well, I guess.

Anyway, with this time difference, Dave and I been relying on short Skype convos and emails to communicate. He is 14 hours ahead of us here, so when it's lunchtime in Beijing, it's bedtime in Chicago. (Also, I'm old and go to bed around 10.)

But tonight? Tonight I'm staying up until 11 so he can Skype me during his lunch. This is what he will see:

HAWT. Who doesn't like seeing their wife with makeup smudges, flat hair and a double chin?

Also, the pup and I are both a little doped up (him on Benadryl, me on Sleep II), so having a conversation in 90 minutes should be extra fun.

Zai jian, friends.

When parents text...

2011-01-31T18:06:00.002-06:00

...And a blizzard is brewing, this is the result:

Sent within minutes of each other, no less.

West side, represent

2011-01-28T12:07:00.001-06:00

Chicago L Shirts

[via]

More shoes

2011-01-27T09:43:00.000-06:00

That's 1 boot. 1.

12 ways.

Under $40.

Now mine.

All by myself

2011-01-25T09:37:00.001-06:00

I have never lived alone.

I just realized that.

I went from my parents' house to my college dorm, where I lived with the girl who became my best friend. Then I moved into an on-campus apartment with two other girls. After that, I moved into an apartment with Dave. And here I am.

My god, for the last 10 years, I haven't even had my own BEDROOM.

But that is about to change for 6 weeks, when Dave goes to China for research work.

He leaves in less than a month and I'm just now processing what that will mean for me. Mostly, I'm going to miss him a disgusting amount. But part of me? Well, part of me is looking forward to this flash of complete and utter self-reliance. I'll cook for myself, parent by myself and focus exclusively on myself. (Okay, fine, sometimes I do that last part whether he's around or not.)

It's a strange feeling. I don't want him to go, but I do want to see how this Miss Independent thing will play out...

Let's do an over-under on my sloppy, drunk mental breakdown that will occur in which I have full-on conversations with my dog, name my cell phone, dress my pillows in Dave's sweatshirts and pass out at the table every night into a bowl of cereal, the only food I can cook.

Overshare

2011-01-21T10:41:00.003-06:00

Have you ever missed your period but come up with negative pregnancy tests and thought "What if I have some sort of period-preventing tumor?" but then would that really be so bad because periods suck anyway....?

No?

Okay, just me then.

----------

I wrote that last week when I thought my period was late. Turns out, it just has a mind of it's own and shows up whenever the hell it feels like it, even if that's 5 days after it's supposed to.

Before this little incident, the possibility of pregnancy never seemed quite so real. I'd been figuring, well, if I get knocked up, I guess I could live with that.

Now?

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

Reality set in and I realized how deeply in the bowels of hell I would really be if there were a little person growing in me. I have a job. That I LIKE. A lot. I also have a husband that I like. A lot. I have a dog and a life and a shoe addiction that I also like. A lot.

It's not that I hate children. I just hate change -- especially now. Things are goooood. More than that, things are about to get pretty exciting around here: Dave and I are planning a trip to Paris this summer, I will be facing some professional changes come June, Dave's starting work in the fall... That's enough change for me right about now. Throw a mini-me into the mix and take away my wine, and you've got a certain recipe for the apocalypse.

So, I've snapped back to reality, much to my mother's dismay, I'm sure. She'll just have to settle for having a grand-puppy for ~~a few~~ many more years.

Snuggle-butt

2011-01-14T09:08:00.001-06:00

We're a little co-dependent.

Happy Friday

New year, new dating strategies

2011-01-07T09:27:00.001-06:00

Match.com: Because nothing says "long-lasting, meaningful relationship" like saki bombs on a first date.

Obligatory resolution post

2010-12-31T10:21:00.003-06:00

I never make New Year's resolutions because I know myself and I know I won't keep them. Sure, we're all bright-eyed and optimistic in January, but once our routines settle back in and the relentless winter chill crushes our souls, well, "turning over a new leaf" just doesn't have priority anymore.

That's why the best resolutions are simple and the best expectations are low. Here's what I'm going with for 2011:

Get back in shape.
Duh. We all say it. But here's my plan to make it happen:

Limit the after-work beer drinking to once a week. Well, maybe twice is okay.
Drink more water instead of waddling over to the vending machine, post-lunch.
Actually use the damn recumbent bike I bought. Let's shoot for 3 times a week.
Do pilates again 3 times a week.

We'll see how long this holds and if my vanity is enough of a motivator to keep me from the booze.

Read more books.
With a new iPad, a Kindle account and a love for Tess Gerritsen, I'm already halfway through one of her most popular books (The Bone Garden). So, basically, I'll finish it in January and I will have already accomplished this resolution, since the number of books I read last year hovered around, um, zero. SUCCESS.

Stop being (as much of) a mean girl.
When you're 20, you can get away with being a little snippy, sarcastic and blunt because you're cute and everyone just calls you "sassy." But when you're almost 30, it reeks of insecurity. Sooo, I'm going to try to scale back the judgments, pop my anti-crazy pills and settle for an eye roll rather than an obnoxious tirade. Unless, of course, someone fucks with my dog. Then I will just shank you.

Stop being scared of the kitchen.
After setting myself on fire, my time in the kitchen has been... limited. Eh, who are we kidding? It was limited before that incident too. But, with my job ending around May and my plans to take time off, I'm going to tip-toe back into the world of recipes and ovens. Specifically, I want to make a kick-ass pasta sauce. In a home with two Italians and a family tree whose recent roots are grounded in Torino, it's downright embarrassing that our sauce comes from a jar.

Foster a dog... or six.
After adopting Rocco through One Tail at a Time, donating dog food and money to the group, and attending every event they hold, I really, really want to become a foster mom for OTAT. They're a shelterless rescue, so they can only take in dogs when they have foster homes lined up. Breaks my heart to hear about the dogs -- esp pit bulls -- that will be put down unless a foster home surfaces. We'll just have to see if Roc can handle it without pissing all over my apartment.

I think that's ambitious enough. If you have any tips, tricks or secrets for how to actually stick with these things, let me know. Otherwise, have a safe and happy New Year and drink your face off before the January 1 cleansing phase begins. Cheers!

She's gone

2010-12-29T09:32:00.005-06:00

R.I.P. BIG GREEN MONSTER

1996 - 2010

It was time. Beyond time, if you ask Dave, but I'm a little more sentimental. The Big Green Monster was good to me -- and she was the only car my mom and I purchased ourselves, without Dad. We wandered onto a used car lot one day in 2002 and, though I had decided I wanted a Jeep Grand Cherokee, I couldn't help but fall in love with this hot mess. She drove more like a car than an SUV, had a sunroof and tinted windows. One signed check later, I drove her off the lot.

And now? Well, like I said, it was time. After 8.5 years with me and 150k miles in her lifetime, the Monster was dying a slow, painful death. So, we called Habitat for Humanity and made arrangements to have her barely lifeless body taken away.

Needless to say, as evidenced by these photos, I had a bit of a tough time letting go...

Big Green Monster had to be jumped by our new car.

Someone's excited.

I will never have this view again!

Goodbye, sunroof that I had to crank open.

So long, plumes of smoke and peeling tire cover.

My last view of her.

It will be missed.

The (real) face-off

2010-12-21T17:55:00.004-06:00

THIS DOG.

You can't tell in the photo, but moments ago, we had a face-off on the sidewalk after he nabbed an entire bread roll before I even noticed it. With my rapid, gymnast-like reflexes, I hit the ground and threw my hand in his mouth so he couldn't chew.

He stared at me.

I stared back.

I wrapped my fingers around the bread roll and tried to pry it away, but his teeth were already wedged in there. It was not good.

I glared.

He blinked.

I told him to "drop it," as if he would have magically learned that command on his own today. (We haven't taught it.) I told him to "leave it," like we make him do with his food. I took a stern tone of voice. I told him he was a bad boy. I pushed his jaw to get him to unlock. I touched his tongue to freak him out. I yelled "UH OH" to startle him into dropping it.

Nothing.

So I waited. I sat there in the cold, staring at my dog as cars drove by and stared at us. We both held onto that bread roll as if our lives depended on it. Finally, it started to get soggy, at which point I saw my golden opportunity. I dug my nails into the roll and broke it apart, moving swiftly to swat crumbly pieces out of Rocco's mouth.

SUCCESS!

I held tight on the leash and kicked the bread pieces into the snow as they fell. I felt triumphant. I wanted to throw a fist pump in the air or something. Within 2 seconds, Rocco forgot all about the bread and promptly pissed on a tree.

Sigh. Such are the glamours of puppy parenthood.

My birth story, as told by mom via text

2010-12-20T18:42:00.002-06:00

It's the digital age, kids. As such, my mom decided to tell me about my birth 28 years ago. Through text message.

December 19, 7:37pm
Happy almost birthday..got to hospital at 6:30 and delivered you at 8:22..spent whole day waiting for your dad because I had the only car.

December 20, 12:35pm
Happy birthday...at this point I was reading a preggo book to see if I was in labor...still could not tell!

December 20, 1:43pm
By now I had gone shopping for egg nog to bring to a party.

December 20, 4:13pm
Now I was yelling at my friends who wanted to come get the egg nog for the party..just in case I couldn't make it.

December 20, 4:28pm
Called best friend with 2 kids to ask for advice. This devout Mormon told me to take a shot of vodka...if it was false labor it would stop.

December 20, 4:37pm
Waited 10 minutes then called her yelling...now they will think I'm an alcoholic!!!! And your dad needed to be picked up around 5:30.

December 20, 4:45pm
At the advice of a nurse neighbor, I started timing my "cramps."

December 20, 5:05pm
Pure panic has now hit as I realize cramps are about 7 min apart and the ride to get your father is about 12.....

December 20, 5:07
After searching for the keys, I headed off to get your dad...I did have to pull over on the roadside for a wave of cramps to pass...

December 20, 5:15pm
By now I am pretty sure I'm in labor..the several gallons of nog in my fridge..and your dad nowhere to be found.

December 20, 5:39pm
After waiting with the front seat reclined, he finally show up. I tell him I'm in labor and he has to drive.

December 20, 5:40pm
He was not receptive to anything after working a 36-hour shift...and he protested...I insisted.

December 20, 5:45pm
By the time we reached the first traffic light, he asked if my suitcase was in the car...it wasn't.

Aaaaand that's when I picked up the phone and called her. As she mentioned in her first text, I was born at 8:22pm. The biggest lesson here is that it's fine -- actually good -- to take shots of liquor if you think you're in labor. Cheers!

Best birthday ever

2010-12-20T08:58:00.003-06:00

Today is my birthday, which means that this past weekend was my birthday celebration. I took no pictures whatsoever, so use your imagination -- just picture lots of wine bottles, laughter and some incredible friends.

Oh, and an incredible husband.

Exhibit A:

Gorgeous green Lanvin ballet flats. Does he know me or what?

Moments after I opened this gift at my birthday dinner, J whipped out her camera as another box was plopped in front of me. There's more?

Exhibit B:

Happy Birthday Lisa from ToKissTheCook on Vimeo.

LOUBOUTINS.

I may have cried a little.

Let it be known that I have worn both pairs of shoes around the house while cleaning and I'm still on cloud nine from the weekend's events. Many, many thanks to Dave and J for their secret shopping excursion and many more thanks to everyone who came out to celebrate.

Happy Monday, folks.

Smart marketing

2010-12-15T11:16:00.003-06:00

Amid all the Christmas emails, shipping confirmations, job alerts, travel plans and back-and-forths with friends, a note "from Kim Kardashian" was opened rather than deleted, if for nothing else than sheer amusement.

This is not normal

2010-12-10T09:07:00.003-06:00

This happened yesterday over IM. (My thoughts in italics.)

Suz: what's your first name?

Wha...? She knows my first name. Suz is being weird. Unless she's being funny... OR unless it's not Suz and it's a hacker trying to get me to send money to freakin' London or Brussels or something! I have heard about this scam on the Interwebs! Okay. Okay. Be cool. Do NOT provide information. Even though your IM is actually your complete first and last name. Maybe this hacker is special-needs and does not realize that.

Me: Um, I feel like it's a little early for you to be drinking...

Suz: no seriously is your name barbie?

Omg, this is totally a retarded hacker who thinks my name is Barbie and wants me to send money and I'm NOT doing it. Should I text Suz and tell her someone hacked her IM? No, just wait. See how this plays out.

Me: Sure.

Suz: go look at barbie's latest fb update

Oops. This is totally Suz. Well, good thing I never OVERREACT.

Barbie: There's no such thing as too many shoes! Enjoy 25% off any Christian Louboutin doll...

Me: Omg, I love her.

Suz: lol

Sigh. Do you know anyone more neurotic than me?

The Facebook Four

2010-12-09T09:59:00.002-06:00

I don't spend too much time on Facebook. And last night, I think I realized why: I am "friends" with some really, really annoying people. Like these four folks that seem to invade my newsfeed every time I log on...

The OMG MY LIFE IS AWESOME Friend
This is the person who updates Facebook every time he/she is at the bar, a club, a boutique, a restaurant, a trip, a date -- and, apparently, these things happen multiple times a day. I had no idea life could be so exciting.

Example statuses: "Digging my toes in the sand. I luuuuuuuv the beach and I luv my life!" "This new restaurant is kick-ass. My city rocks!" "Out with the crew. I have the best friends EVER."

What's really going on: Overcompensation.

What you should do: Feel pity.

The Creepy Parent
As someone who doesn't have kids, I can only handle so many status updates having to do with diapers, poop, babbling, baby bodily fluids and mundane "mishaps."

Example statuses: "My sweet little 'Picasso' strikes again, but with a Sharpie on my white walls! Good thing I love that kid!" "Sarah is 48 weeks, 6 days and 3 hours old right now! YAY!" "Grocery shopping alone and I miss my baby." "Joey just pooped in the bath for the third time this week, omg. So much poop. Look, here's a picture of the poop."

What's really going on: Uh, parenthood.

What you should do: Submit to STFU Parents and move on.

The Religious Fanatic
I've lived in the Bible Belt and been around tons of Southern Baptists who think all Jews (and especially halfsies like me) are going to hell. So if anyone should be accustomed to the incessant proselytizing, it's this girl. Still, I just can't.

Example statuses: "Looking at the sunset. Heavens declare the glory of God!!!!" "When God answers prayers, my faith is increased. Praise Him!" "So thankful for the Lord Jesus Christ, who blesses me each and every day." "The very air in my lungs is evidence of God's grace upon me."

What's really going on: I still don't know.

What you should do: Prepare yourself. Christmas is just a few weeks away and the status updates are about to get super-duper righteous.

The Bandwagon-er
It feels like there's always a meme of some sort floating around Facebook, often with the goal of "raising awareness" for some sort of cause, illness or tragedy. Recently, we saw it with the whole change-your-profile-to-a-picture-of-a-cartoon-character in order to... Actually, I have no idea what it was supposed to do. Something about child abuse. You know what those kids and organizations really need? Money. Time. Not a picture of a Care Bear.

Example statuses: "I like it on the kitchen table, lol." "Red." "I drink tequila!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

What's really going on: Idiocy

What you should do: Hide them from your newsfeed. Because this shit isn't gonna stop.

I'm not saying updates about your awesome life, awesome kids and awesome God should never exist. If anything, I'm guilty of the parental one because I'm obsessed with my dog. But to write these things over and over and over again, to the point where you talk about nothing else, well, that gets you on My List.

Who's on your list?

Why the universe sucks right now

2010-11-30T11:14:00.002-06:00

They say bad things happen in threes. Call me an optimist, but I'm really hoping they just happen in twos, because then I'd be done.

Bad Thing #1
My great-aunt -- the one who just celebrated her 90th birthday -- passed away just before Thanksgiving. She was the matriarch of our family and to say we were all sad would be an understatement. However, it was a lovely funeral, my dad gave a beautiful eulogy (or did you not think I knew what a eugoogl y was?) and we were all together in NY for a few days to remember Betty. She left behind a devoted husband, two daughters and more nieces, nephews, grandchildren and cousins than you can count.

Bad Thing #2
Upon on return from NY, Dave and I were gearing up for a festive Turkey Day in Chicago, but one phone call from Cleveland changed all that. This is one I won't go into detail about, but we rushed back to Dave's fam (with dog in tow) on Wednesday and spent the holiday there. As of right now, things are looking better and the situation is being handled.

Bad Thing #3... DO NOT WANT. Especially since I can't shake the thought that if there is going to be a Bad Thing #3, it will have to do with my sister. She's coming up on her 1-year anniversary again and, as we all know, the holidays are a tough time for addicts. Fingers crossed we sail through the New Year without any hiccups.

Goodbye, Big Green Monster

2010-11-11T16:50:00.007-06:00

Some people find car shopping fun. Others find it painful. I went car shopping for the first time ever last weekend and, since I'm SO not at the negotiation stage yet, I found it pretty darn delightful.

Since The Big Green Monster is on its last leg (poor thing), we're thinking we might buy a car in the next month.

*cue panic attack*

But, despite being terrified of doing such a Big Girl thing without my dad by my side, we marched forward... right into the 4 dealerships in the city.

1. BMW

Our first stop was the BMW dealership to look at some used 3-series. And that's when we met the craziest man in the world.

I swear, he was like some sort of coked-out, ADHD ball of offensiveness. He asked us tons of questions to figure out our finances ("What do you two do?" "I'm a writer, he's a student." Translation: We will not be paying you 50k for a car.), said that some things were "gay" ("But it's okay because I don't mean it in a bad way.") and kept telling us that "it's all about me," meaning him. Seriously felt accosted.

When we finally got to look at the cars, I was hugely disappointed by the back seat. I mean, I barely fit back there and I'm all of 5 feet. How am I supposed to cart around my fam when they visit without their chins resting on their knees? I walked out of there unimpressed.

2. Honda

After looking online at some 2009-2010 Accords, I had convinced myself I wanted one... but a trip to the dealer made me do a 180.

First of all, when we walked in, we were completely ignored by all salespeople. Not the best way to win business, but whatevs. We wandered over to a 2010 Accord and poked around ourselves. Again, not too thrilled. The car itself was much, much bigger than I thought it would be and the console was fug. Dave and I exchanged glances and walked out of there as quickly as we'd walked in.

3. Audi

I know nothing about these cars, but we figured a used A4 would be just the right size for us. (I'm starting to feel like Goldilocks.) We didn't look at any used A4s in our price range, but based on the 2010, we're intrigued enough to explore some older models. I guess. I really don't care about Audis too much because....

4. Volkswagen

....I am totally in love with a Volkswagen.

I know, right!? VW has never been on my radar. Jettas and Passats always looked like bubbly sorority-girl cars to me and don't have Honda's reputation for reliability or BMW's reputation for fanciness.

But.

I neeeeeed a 2011 Jetta.

First off, they added 3 inches of legroom to the back seat this year, so it's much bigger than the BMW. Second, a brand new, fully loaded Jetta is about the same price as a standard 2008 BMW (and, I'm guessing, an Audi). Third, have you seen how sleek it is?

Gimme.

Technically, there are a few more cars on our list that we told ourselves we'd look at (Mazda 3 and Mazda 6 are the only others I'd spend the time looking at, but the Mazda dealership is wayyy out in the burbs). But I feel like we've already found our car.

I never thought I'd get a new car because who DOES that when you could get a 1-year-old car for much cheaper? But, like I said, there are major improvements with the 2011 Jetta and I can't wait to test drive it.

Which I'm doing in an hour...

Here's hoping she doesn't let me down.

*UPDATE*
Um, I bought the Jetta.

I win.

2010-11-08T09:16:00.002-06:00

You know how celebrities like to beat the gossip rags to the punch by blogging about some controversial story they're involved in? Or how they write their own autobiography rather than letting some unauthorized author put out a tell-all? It's all a way to take control of the situation and reveal juicy details on their own terms, in their own way.

This is kind of like that.

Minus the celebrity aspect.

You see, this morning, I found myself caught in the midst of a bit of a fib. Background: We have a big meeting every Monday morning at 9:30, which means folks start to head over to the meeting spot around 9:15.

Dave has always driven me in on Mondays after his bike ride with his cycling team (OMG, IS HE 12?), which means I typically got IN at 9:15. Even if you're not good at math, you know that this leaves me zero time to get settled, check email and mentally prep for the day.

So... I told him I had to be in by 9am sharp every Monday.

He thought that meant the meetings started at 9am on Monday.

I did not correct him.

This means that for the past few months, he's been skipping the mid-ride coffee break with his buddies in order to get home in enough time to shower and drop me off at work. WHICH I VERY MUCH APPRECIATE.

Except this morning, it may have slipped out that the meeting starts at 9:30. And always has.

His jaw dropped and he called me by my first AND middle names! "You lied to me!"

Well, no, technically, I did not. "Oh yes you did! A lie of omission!" he said.

We got into the car as he, mildly amused, continued to chastise me for this little discrepancy. I, of course, could not stop giggling. And because he wouldn't stop, I decided to do something to end the conversation.

"Look," I said, "take this $20." I reached into my purse.

"OH MY GOD, I DON'T WANT YOUR BLOOD MONEY," he exclaimed.

"Just take it!" I told him.

"No way," he said. "You're trying to pay me off. This is dirty money. I'm not having it."

And so here I am, at work with $20 still in my pocket and a meeting about to start. Also, I beat him to the punch with this story. So there.

Lisa - 1. Dave - 0.

Punny

2010-10-29T17:14:00.003-05:00

My mom is taking a trip to a cabin with my dad this weekend -- a cabin that has no Internet or phone.

This is what she wore for the trip:

Raise your hand if you're surprised.

The Douchiest Neighbor of All Time

2010-10-25T12:52:00.007-05:00

Oh my god, you guys, have I got a story for you. A story all renters can relate to.

So, I have this neighbor. He lives on the second floor of a three-flat with his girlfriend/wife/whatever. They moved in just a few months ago.

Facts about this neighbor:

He drives an Escalade.
He parks a band trailer in our driveway.
He is covered in tattoos and thinks this makes him badass.
He does not work during the day, as far as I can tell.
He has 2 tiny, yappy dogs that pee all over.
He is an angry, angry man.

I found out that last part this weekend.

You see, this douchey neighbor of ours brought the party back to the apt. after a late night out at the bars. Around 2am, loud music and shouting filled the whole building. This is NOT the first time this has happened, but it is the first time we decided to say something about it.

We woke up early the next morning for Dave's bike race and left the neighbors a note telling them how loud they are. For perspective, we wrote about how we can even hear their phone vibrating. We wrote about how a loud party at midnight or 1am isn't a big deal, but 3am? 4am? a regular basis? Not okay.

What we got back was this:

Fuck ourselves? Fuck our mothers? OH NO YOU DIDN'T!!

This morning, I was in a blind rage, ready to march upstairs and give that tool a piece of my mind. Dave, ever the sane one, would not let me. He said we were going to handle this like grown ups. (Slash bitch about it on the Interwebs.)

While I've been at work, Dave has continued to go upstairs to try to talk to The Douche. The Douche, though he is certainly home, will not answer the door.

Plan of action: Continue knocking on the door every few hours until he answers. Keep the landlord in the loop by copying the absurdly aggressive note in with our rent check. Call the cops next time a party ensues. Keep calling the cops every weekend, if needed. Hope and pray that they don't renew their lease.

Happy Monday.

Tell me you don't need this

2010-10-15T09:02:00.004-05:00

Genius.

www.hiddensoles.com

How accurate ARE breed tests?

2010-10-12T11:38:00.007-05:00

I'd be the first to say that my dog is not what we'd call "handsome."

He's a stocky (62-lb), meaty little thing with beady eyes and a butt that will NOT stop shaking. He hates cats, loves food and takes up way too much space in the bed. But, as his mom, I also think he's the Cutest Damn Thing In The World. The brindle coat, the awkward ears, the white socks on his paws -- that's my baby boy.

But, aside from being adorable, what IS he?

Before you start thinking I'm delusional, yes, I know that he's definitely a Pit Bull. But Pit Bull and what? Full Pit? Pit-Boxer? Pit-Lab?

I was starting to feel like a bad mama who just swooped up some pup from the slums and never bothered to figure out what the heck he is. I care! I want to know! So, Dave and I did what any neurotic parents would do: We ordered a breed test.

We swabbed Rocco's mouth, popped the swab into a packet and mailed it in to WisdomPanel. And as of a few weeks ago, we got the results.

Are you ready?

Rocco is...

...a...

...Pit Bull (American Staffordshire)...

...and...

...wait for it...

...a...

...fucking...

...DACHSHUND!...

...

I'll let that sink in for a moment.

...

Back? Okay. Let's resume.

My dog is a Pit Bull/Dachshund mix. And we have the paperwork to prove it:

So, mystery solved. Now, the only mystery is why Rocco's grandpa raped a doxie, but I don't think we'll ever know the true answer to that.

Instead, I've put my energies into keeping a straight face when we go on our walks and I say, "Oh, him? He's a dachshund mix. No, I'm sure. We had him breed-tested. This is my precious little doxie boy!"

I think I speak for all of us when I say, the fuck?

Life Lessons 3

2010-10-04T10:45:00.009-05:00

Shopping

When you're buying something online, put it in your shopping cart and leave it there for a few days. As long as you've signed up for an account, there's a good chance the company will send you a discount so you come back and complete the purchase -- like, 25%.

Fall nails!

Buy deep purple polish. It's awesome.

Sewing

Do NOT cut corners when it comes to the pre-sewing process. For serious. I used to think I could blow through the measuring and cutting, and just really focus on the sewing part. No. Wrong. When you do that, you end up with drapes that look like trapezoids rather than rectangles.
Always have extra sewing-machine needles lying around for when you drunk-sew and break your supply.

Taxi love

Download Taxi Magic on your phone. It lets you book cabs, track them and charge them on your credit card. Plus it's free. (It does not, however, erase the stuffy cab pee smell.)

Salsa verde

Don't be scared of tomatillos. This. Salsa. Is. Badass. Also, don't skip the jalapeno. I don't even like spicy stuff, but it really misses the flavor when you leave it out.

Deposits

Always, always, always keep a pen in your purse. I've walked by the ATM several times already and couldn't deposit checks from this summer because my pen keeps disappearing/was never there to begin with.

Accepting defeat

I used to whine about Comcast a while back, but ever since moving and getting AT&T, I've realized something very important: They both suck. In my case, AT&T sucks worse. Since switching to Comcast last week, our download speed is 4x faster and upload speed is 15x faster -- no joke. I'm sure AT&T will disappoint me eventually, so it's best to accept it and be happy that you've chosen one that just sucks less... for now.

Painting

If you're going to paint a light wall a darker color, you have to prime it with gray first. Or buy that Behr premium-ultra-best-paint-ever stuff. Oh, and if you're going to paint something maroon/dark red, don't freak out when the paint guy gives you a mix that looks magenta. It will darken. Supposedly.

All-around well-being

For the love of christ, stop watching Jersey Shore.

J-O-B

2010-09-27T12:50:00.002-05:00

Remember when Dave was interviewing for an internship at a massive, prestigious firm? And we were really excited about it? And he made it to the final round? And then didn't get it? Crushing.

Well, this time around, he interviewed for a full-time position there and landed the job!

*Cue awkward happy dance*

So, he'll still interview at a few other firms to see if he gets to interview there and have a choice about where he'll end up, but regardless of who he works for, this job situation means several things for us:

We'll be able to pay off student loans.
Funny thing about being a grad student -- you don't make enough money to survive. And things (rent, vet visits, car insurance) cost a lot of money. So, Dave has a few loans that will kick in once he graduates. Now that he has a job secured, we'll be able to PAY THEM... and still afford groceries.

At least one of us will have a job come May!
It's likely that I'll be out of a job sometime in the middle part of next year. I know it's coming, so I'm preparing/prepared for it, but I was not looking forward to both Dave and I being jobless. Two unemployed, broke people living in an urban area with their pit bull? We're just one felony charge and an armband tattoo away from the worst stereotype ever.

Summer fun.
Because I'll probably be out of a job next year and I know about it far in advance, I may have the luxury of taking next summer off, with the exception of a few freelance projects. I'll drive to STL to visit friends, lay out at my favorite beach, finish sewing drapes in my apartment and play the part of happy housewife for as long as I can stand it.

Travel times a thousand.
Travel, in theory, sounds like something fabulous. But in the context of Dave's new position, it means that HE will be traveling and I will be staying home. This is definitely a bummer, to put it mildly (and to also use a phrase typically reserved for 80s sitcoms). We'll manage somehow, but I'm not convinced it will be easy.

Yep, things will certainly change around here. Some good, some bad. We'll see how it all plays out, but for now, we're just enjoying the lack of total panic and horror that we'd be feeling had his interviews gone in the other direction. WAY TO GO, DAVE! You earned it.

World traveler?

2010-09-03T11:10:00.004-05:00

I've never been much of a traveler.

I guess it's the crotchety old woman in me that just wants to be in her comfort zone (likely a local bar) with a familiar drink in hand (likely vodka), a familiar face by my side (likely Suz) and a standard schedule to stick to (in bed by 10).

Uh, remind me again why you read this blog? I am SO BORING.

Aaaanyway. I'm telling you this because I think something in me is starting to shift. A lot of you (Ang, Jess, Jessi, etc.) travel quite often -- alone even! You have amazing experiences, beautiful photos and tons of memories. I'm starting to long for some more adventure.

For example, I really miss Australia. Sydney had the exciting urban feel that I love and Port Douglas had the relaxed beach vibe that we all need every now and then.

San Francisco was fantastic too -- so much to see and do.

And then, there's Paris.

Dave and I thought about going to Paris/Nice for our honeymoon, but the weather wasn't going to be warm enough for me to soak up the sun.

Now, our dear friends are moving there in October (!) and I can't WAIT to visit. Especially since both of them speak French whereas I, like most asshole Americans, only know how to proposition someone a la the Lady Marmalade video.

Speaking of speaking French and videos, here's a moment from their wedding where Zack raps to his wife. He goes en Francais around the 5:30 mark:

Adorable, no?

Where else should I plan to go? What's your favorite place to visit?

Are you ready for some football? I am.

2010-08-30T11:02:00.006-05:00

Last year, I participated in my first fantasy draft. I got the first draft slot (luck) and picked Adrian Peterson (strategy/duh). The rest of my team was solid and I WON MY LEAGUE. Boo yah.

This year, we changed things up a bit and decided to do an auction-style draft. I am scared of change, but it was explained to me something like this: Everyone gets $200 to spend on players. When it's your turn, you nominate a player to the auction and everyone can bid on him to try and out-bid you (and each other). So, theoretically, you could blow $90 on Peterson, but it just depends how much a player is worth to you. Hint: not that much.

Suz also participated in the draft. Her strategy? Pick the hottest guys.

She ended up with those 3 quarterbacks (unnecessary), paid $9 for a $1 defense and threw a few bucks at no-name players for her bench. My prediction? She beats us all.

As for my team, I didn't feel like paying much for Peterson, but I did draft the #1 and #3 running backs: Chris Johnson and Maurice Jones-Drew. Also nabbed Brent Celek, Greg Jennings and David Akers (all good guys I had last year), and took a big QB risk on Kevin Kolb (who?).

Oh, jk, that's not him.

That's just what comes up in Google images when you search for him. Bad omen?

This is the real Kevin Kolb:

Hmm. Not hot, so it's clear Suz would never pick him. But at least he looks serious, right? Right?

Ladies, lemme tell ya, if you ever want to start caring about football, join a fantasy league. Half of what I just wrote up there probably sounds like "blah blah blah football blah blah who cares blah blah hot guys," but I am so much more into the game than I've ever been.

Come Sunday, you'll find me in front of the TV, hoping for another win.

Cousins are fun

2010-08-27T08:42:00.001-05:00

When you're Italian, every one of your family members is your "cousin."

I absolutely adore my cousins!

There's my awesome first-cousin...

My fabulous Florida cousin...

My slightly spazzy but wildly successful cousin...

And many more cousins....

I was lucky enough to get to see everyone at this lovely lady's 90th birthday party in NY the other weekend:

WOOOOOOO PARTY!

It was fantastic. There was laughing, drinking and even some games... One game in particular was a sort of family trivia to see which of us knew the Birthday Girl the best. My table/team included my immediate family, plus my dad's brother and his fam.

And we totally cheated.

You see, Birthday Girl's husband told my dad and uncle all the trivia answers the night before the party. Where was she born? What's her favorite drink? What are her two favorite activities? We had it DOWN.

1. Bronx
2. Manhattan
3. Knitting and puzzles

Boom. We were fed plenty of other answers too. Cheaters never lose, right?

Wrong.

Apparently, Birthday Girl decided to change her freakin' answers!

1. Bronx (okay, can't lie about that)
2. Scotch (um, what?)
3. Gambling and puzzles

Sadface.

So, we lost. Like all good losers, we booed and hissed and challenged everything. 'Course, it's hard to be heard in a room full of drunk, competitive Italians, so it made little difference.

Losing aside, the rest of the weekend was a blast.

We danced.

We ate.

We were SERIOUS BAD-ASSES.

We listened to stories.

We Dad got drunk and tortured puppies.

We had homemade beer.

We were sad to leave.

Same time next year, folks? See you then!

Tag team music, in full effect

2010-08-20T08:25:00.000-05:00

The scene: Post-dinner last night, still sitting at the table. Dave is mindlessly eating my fries. I am mindlessly eating chocolate chips.

Dave, abruptly: Take these away from me.

I confiscate the fries and give my chocolate the side-eye.

Me: Now you take these away from me.

Dave grabs the bag of chocolate and tosses it aside.

Me, to the dog: That's what we call "tag team," Rocco.

::pause::

Me: Tag team, back again...

::pause::

Dave: No.

Me: ...Check and direct and let's begin!

Dave: Party on, party people, lemme hear some noise.

Together: DC's in the house, jump jump rejoice. Party over here, party over there, wave your hands in the air, shake your derriere. These three words when you're getting busy. Whoomp, there it is.

Me: Hit me.

Dave, shaking his head: My god.

Me: It's gonna be SO easy to embarrass our kids.

I dare you to find a funnier kid

2010-08-19T09:13:00.000-05:00

My nephew, ladies and gentlemen:

Boy-crazy or just bat-shit-crazy?

2010-08-18T11:27:00.003-05:00

I have never understood girls (well, women) who jump from guy to guy without taking so much as one breath of singledom. I've always been the opposite of that.

Sure, I had a boyfriend for a bit in high school but then I ditched him for the freedom, excitement and adventure of being a carefree coed in a brand new city... with new boys to meet and new boys date.

Except, I didn't really date anyone in college. Unless, of course, you count the gorgeous boy I tried to woo during our junior year. (He's still gorgeous, by the way, but not so interested in the ladies. We also became good friends.)

Regardless, I was always the single one, whereas my friends and roommates actually dated and even had serious boyfriends over the course of our four years together. It was never a "them" versus "me" scenario either; just because they had boyfriends didn't mean we couldn't party together. Single, dating, who cares! Let's go drink some Natty Light!

Fast forward 10 years.

I've been with Dave since I was 22 and we're coming up on our second year of marriage. I went from being the happily single chick to the happily married chick. I've never been the type to date someone just to date or just to have someone around. Why bother?

Then there's my sister.

She is one of those girls who ALWAYS has a boyfriend -- and she's had a ton of them. There was the AWFUL/mean guy when she was 15, the psychotic guy who thought he was Jesus when she was in college, the good-looking-but-dickish addict she met in rehab, the almost-divorced military guy with two kids, the guy she met at a strip club and, my favorite, the normal college grad who had a good job in marketing and no history of addiction.

This last one represented hope. Hope that my sister was growing up, hope that she knew she deserved better than what she'd had, hope that she'd found someone to keep her grounded. Hope that maybe she'd stop jumping around from guy to guy.

GUESS AGAIN, BIG SISTER.

I got off the phone with my mom yesterday and she told me that sis was no longer with Good, Stable Marketing Man.

"Okay, so who's she dating now?" I asked half-jokingly.

"Someone named Justin," my mom answered.

"Seriously?" I asked. "I was just being an asshole about it, but did she really move on that quickly?"

Yes. Yes she did.

So my big question is WHY. Why can't she be single? What's the appeal of being with someone you don't really know? Does she have daddy issues? Then why don't I have daddy issues? Is it her environment? Should she move out of the south and get a chance of pace? Will this infatuation with being in love ever stop? Can I lock her in a closet somewhere until she turns 30, the magic age of maturity?

As someone who never had the patience or interest in dating anyone until it hit me like a ton of bricks with Dave, I fully admit that I just don't get it. Do you? Is it BAD that some girls always have a guy, or are there people who are just wired that way?

Life Lessons 2

2010-08-16T09:49:00.004-05:00

Babies

If you for some reason find yourself with pregnancy tests on your hands, do NOT throw away the box that explains the results. Otherwise, a search of the web will have you convinced it's negative... no, wait... positive... no... negative? WTF SOMEONE TELL ME IF I'M KNOCKED UP OR NOT.

Exercise

If you're gonna buy an exercise bike, get a recumbent one. It's easier on your back and, besides, who doesn't like lounging while burning fat?

Neighborhoods

If you live in West Town, as I do, teach yourself the difference between fireworks, cars backfiring and gunshots.

Driving

When you rent a car for a long drive, make sure it has cruise control on it before you take it off the lot. Fun fact: my rented 2009 Toyota Corolla did not.

When driving with your dog in the car, remove ALL items he can eat before pulling out of the driveway. Otherwise, you'll spend the better part of your trip clapping, shouting and making awkward, loud noises to get him to stop chewing said things.

Family

If your mom is on Twitter, teach her that some companies try to solve your problems in 140 characters. Otherwise, she may or may not accuse a customer service rep of trying to scam her.

Shopping

Get a Costco membership. The liquor prices alone are worth it.

When you order something from an online vendor, go through their feedback and see how they respond to unhappy customers. If they say things like "YOU'RE LYING," and "You're just plain impossible!" and have curt, defensive responses with lots of !!!, then you know their customer service is shit. Avoid.

Travel

When you book a flight the first time after you get a dog, make sure the times coordinate well with the boarding facility's pick-up and drop-off times.

No, really, I love going to the vet

2010-08-12T09:40:00.009-05:00

As you guys know, I love my dog. He is my first child, he's a little cuddle monster and I call him embarrassing things like boogie-woogie, pop-rocks, Rocco-Paco-Taco and pumpkin-head. It's nonsensical, shameful and adoring all at once.

You also know that he is going through his jerky teenage years, which makes me want to rip my hair out.

What you don't know is that he's been to the vet way too many times in the last six months.

Vet Visit 1: Rocco gets checked out and up-to-date on his shots. Harmless, necessary and pricey.

Vet Visit 2: Rocco has been shitting and puking pink stuff, which turns out to be blood. UM WHAT!?

Vet Visit 3: Rocco starts wheezing/coughing, like it's hard for him to breathe -- and it's not kennel cough...

Vet Visit 4: Rocco gets his next round of shots and tears apart my legs while I try to hold him down for the bordetella. Fun.

At this rate, we should be seeing the vet again by Halloween for something equally random and distressing. I think this last visit was enough to traumatize him though, so maybe he'll stop, you know, getting sick all the time. Fingers crossed.

Also, right about now, I'm wishing he was 50 pounds lighter and 1,000 times weaker so I could actually control him during vaccinations. It took Dave, me, a vet tech and the vet cornering the poor dog and holding him with all our might just to do the bordetella -- which is an up-the-nose injection. (Yeah, I'd freak too.) After several attempts and various struggles, we gave up and just gave him the skin shot version. And after that? Rocco plopped on the floor and sprawled out, all smiles. Me? I went and nursed my wounds.

Oh, Rocco-Paco-Taco.

I guess this is my payback for the humiliating nicknames.

Vacation recap

2010-08-11T12:13:00.010-05:00

It's already been a few weeks since we were at the beach, but there's nothing like a look back to make you miss the fun more than ever...

THE 12-HOUR DRIVE

Leaving around 5am makes Dave goofy
It makes me sleepy

The pink bike rack, however, is unaffected

THE BEACH

Okay, we didn't actually take any pictures out on the beach. Except this one. Oops.

THE FISHING TRIP

We went deep sea fishing at the crack of dawn

We caught sting rays...

...and sharks!

My sister was very excited

And, of course, I slept some more

THE FOOD

Food porn, commence!

THE REST

We also hit up Busch Gardens. 90* angle drops? Yes, please

We played with sparklers

Watched a big storm roll through

Played games

And hung out on the porch with cool cocktails

T-minus 345 days until we do it all again.

A picture's worth a thousand words

2010-08-04T09:10:00.002-05:00

Sparklers are fun.

It's almost beach time!

2010-07-21T09:16:00.006-05:00

In just a few short days, I'm heading to VA Beach with the fam. This includes:

Dave and his pink bike rack

My drunk dad

My soberish mom

My clean-for-now sister

My super-DUPER drunk grandma

My sun-avoiding brother

My super sober father-in-law

My awesome mother-in-law

My fun, fun, fun sister-in-law

My CAPTAIN AMERICA brother-in-law & his girlfriend

My princess niece

My bull-in-a-china-shop nephew

This crazy crew is about to invade VA Beach. We'll go deep-sea fishing at the ass-crack of dawn, drink way too much alcohol, soak up the sun, have Bocce tournaments, play video games and play poker. I can't wait.

I'm a parent to a teenager

2010-07-18T19:47:00.004-05:00

Rocco's family reunion was this past weekend, so we threw him in the car like good parents and took him to the crazed event.

I say "crazed" because there were, oh, 20-something dogs running around like maniacs, sniffing each other's butts, barking loudly and generally spazzing out. There was even a hump or two. For Roc, it was heaven.

Pups everywhere

Sitting contest -- we're on the right

Me, surrounded by dogs

With all that stimulation, I guess it's not reasonable to expect your 18-month-old pup to be on his best behavior... and he wasn't. Yes, he almost won the sitting contest, but good lord, does my boy have a mouth on him. He kept barking every time another dog barked and even when everyone was silent.

In fact, during the raffle announcements, they announced the winning ticket for one prize and whose dog decided to bark? Mine. "No, Roc, you didn't win anything," I told him. He slumped down as if he understood English. But I know he doesn't because otherwise he would understand "GET THAT SLOBBERY TOY AWAY FROM MOMMY BECAUSE IT'S GROSS AND I DON'T PLAY."

Anyway, he was a bit of a hellion at the reunion, but so many other dogs were too. Seeing his behavior, we cornered the trainer who was there and bombarded her with questions to help figure out why he is an ass.

"How old is he?" she asked.

"About a year-and-a-half," I told her.

"Oh yikes," she said. "Worst age ever."

"Yeah... Wait, what?"

"Yep, this is a HORRIBLE age for a dog. You're basically raising a 15-year-old."

Oh. My. God. I hate teenagers so much. I don't want one! As I was absorbing this info (and some of her great training tips), I kept an eye on my little monster. Of course, he behaved like an angel when the trainer was near. Go figure.

When we got home, it was a different story. He did something that he has NEVER, EVER done. Something I never thought he would do in his lifetime.

He peed on my bed.

On purpose.

Right in front of me.

Fucking teens! I just know it was a spite-pee. I wouldn't play with him while I was eating dinner and when I went to go fold laundry in the bedroom afterward, he came with. He sat next to the bed, waiting for permission to come up.

What a good boy, I thought. Permission granted!

He got up there, started pawing and kicking the covers to create his own little "bed" and then promptly started peeing. Peeing!

I screeched, startled him enough to make him stop mid-pee and threw him off the bed while shouting obscenities. (My neighbors love me.) Roc knew he was in deep shit. He crawled out of the room with his ears back and his tail between his legs. I continued to rage. I told Dave what happened and he joined in on the rage with me. BAD BOY, ROCCO.

And to top off the evening, he decided he didn't want to go in his crate. Oh, sure, Roc, why don't you just sleep with us, since you've been soooo good. Guess again, jerkface. It was a bit of a battle, but he eventually accepted his fate.

But seriously, where is this behavior coming from?? I will not tolerate it in my house. I used to only have two house rules: No biting and no rapes. He obeys those. But it looks like I'll have to amend the rule to: No biting, no raping, no peeing.

Gah, I thought that was a given, but I guess not.

Welcome to the teenage years. They suck.

Yeah, I could drive an Infiniti

2010-07-12T14:01:00.002-05:00

Since The Big Green Monster is on it's last leg (uh, wheel), I've been paying extra-special attention to the cars I rent. Even as someone who hates driving, I have to say that it's been kind of fun experiencing different vehicles.

Here's what I've played with in the last few months:

Luxury: 2009 Infiniti G37x

Pros:
SOMEONE BUY ME THIS. Not surprisingly, I fell in love with this car. Smooth ride, comfy leather seats, great sound system, convenient nav system, bluetooth, plenty of room, heated seats, AWD -- what's not to love?

Cons:
Nothing. Seriously. I would live in this car if I could. And if I were made of money, I'd rent it every single time I go out of town. California? Hop in the G37, friends, it's a short 35 hours away! Love, love, love.

Mid-Size: 2009 Toyota Corolla

Pros:
Everyone talks about the great gas mileage on this car, but seeing it in action is a whole new level of amazing. We made it from Chicago to Cleveland without even filling up!

Cons:
This bad boy didn't have cruise control. THAT made for a fun 5 hours on the highway. Also, there was no real room in the back seat. If we had been traveling with my brother or anyone else, it would have been totally uncomfortable.

Full-Size: 2009 Hyundai Sonata

Pros:
Holy gas mileage. Maybe I just have super-low expectations after driving an old school SUV for years, but this Sonata was awesome. Went from Chicago to St. Louis on a little over half a tank of gas. Also, it had a USB port and aux input for my iPhone, plenty of room in the back seat and a relatively smooth ride.

Cons:
No navigation system. My sense of direction is horseshit and the Goog sometimes steers me wrong.

Big-Time Luxury: 2010 Acura MDX

Pros: This is mom's new car -- since I met her in STL, we used her car for everything. I couldn't stop driving it. Awesome nav system made for confused drivers like me, USB, aux input, heated seats, comfy leather, sunroof, back-up camera... even the seat remembered my settings and automatically adjusted itself before I turned the car on. It's a far cry from her minivan, for sure.

Cons: Gas mileage, duh. And you can't change the navigation voice accent to something fun like Australian. It also felt a tad too big to drive in the city, but, believe me, I could get over that hurdle. Ya know, if mom wanted to gift me another vehicle sometime in the near future...

Anyway, the next car I'm renting is another full-size for our road trip to Virginia Beach in T-minus 11 days.

As much as I'd love to get the Infiniti again, it's dangerously close to costing the same as a month's rent for the week, so... no. The Corolla's out, since the lack of cruise control and space is way too big of an issue for a 15-hour trip. And the Sonata, well, that'd be a great ride, actually. We're not renting from the same company though, so god only knows what they'll give us. Here's hoping for a lucky upgrade.

Beer me.

2010-06-30T13:18:00.001-05:00

When I lived in St. Louis, there was only one beer to drink: Bud Light.

Sure, other beers technically existed, but in the Land of Budweiser Brewery, that's all you order. So, when I moved to Chicago several years ago (Jesus Christ, has it been years already?), I was all set to be the small-town girl drinking the St. Louis classic.

...Until I realized that NO ONE drinks Bud Light here. No one. No Bud-anything, actually. Seriously, I feel like ordering a Bug Light in Chicago is like screaming I'M NOT FROM HERE, Y'ALL. And you know how I feel about tourists -- the last thing I want is to be grouped with them. Gew.

Sooo, it was time to move on to different beers. I haven't branched out too much from my lighter, wimpier tastes, but thanks to the variety in, uh, every single bar, I don't have to. These are a few of my favs:

Bell's Oberon
Allagash White
Goose Island 312
Honker's Ale
Magic Hat No. 9
Shock Top
Magner's
Blue Moon
Peroni
Leinenkugel Sunset Wheat

What else should I try?

Happy Father's Day, Pop-Pop

2010-06-20T14:43:00.000-05:00

After calling my dad and wishing him a happy Father's Day, I decided to humiliate my dog and make him wish "Pop-Pop" one as well.

Note the homemade hat, "hugs and kisses" balloon, sign and shameful reluctance. Each day, I'm shocked that this pup still loves me.

Anyway, happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. :-)

I'm not above fighting with old men

2010-06-14T18:39:00.006-05:00

I have what's called a "short temper." Some days, it's shorter than others. I know this. You know this. It's just a fact.

Today, my short temper reared it's ugly head and I got into a fight with a 70-year-old man.

Don't judge me.

You see, I was walking my DEADLY MURDEROUS PIT BULL KILLING MACHINE through the neighborhood after work. As we passed one of the small parks, a child almost walked into him. Rocco halfway glanced at the kid and we kept walking... Until the kid's grandpa grabbed him and said, "That dog almost got you!"

Uh, slow reaction time aside, Gramps, I assure you, your kid was in no danger. So, because he's old and I'm trying to control my temper, I let it go.

But he didn't.

He said to the child, "That's a pit bull. That's a dangerous dog."

OH, NO YOU DIDN'T.

I whipped around and walked back to him.

"Excuse me, what did you say?" I asked in that tone.

"That's a pit bull," he said.

"Yeah, and?" I challenged.

"That's a dangerous dog, not a pet."

Well, folks, I kinda lost it on this old man. I mouthed off about how this is most certainly NOT a dangerous dog and threw in a few are-you-KIDDING-me's and dramatic eye rolls every time he tried to correct me. However, you'll be pleased to know that I did not say bad words because the kids were there. That said, it was still not a pretty scene.

He even told be how back in Mexico, he saw a pit bull attack a German Shepherd.

"That's great," I said snidely, "but you know chihuahuas and tiny dogs attack like that too. All dogs can, not just pit bulls! It's ridiculous to think otherwise, come ON."

Our exchange went on until I walked off calling him an asshole under my breath.

Meanwhile, my dog? Sat down and waited until Mommy was done arguing with an old dude.

For the rest of the walk, I was ranting and raving about the ignorance of some people and how absolutely disgusting it is that adults actually TEACH their children to fear a dog because of its breed. I was in the middle of my not-so-quiet rage when I heard a tiny voice.

"Hey, can we pet your dog?"

I turned and saw three young children behind their fence, smiling eagerly.

My heart softened and I walked The Killing Machine over to the kids. He sat down while they pet him, asked his name, giggled and single-handedly erased my anger. They were so sweet to him, blissfully unaware of the stereotypes and prejudice that we face nearly every day we walk. They made me smile, too. I almost didn't want to leave.

As Roc and I turned around to finish our walk, I was happily gearing up for Round 2 with the old man, but, alas, he had departed. (No doubt whisking his grandkids away before they had a chance to be murdered by my dog on our return route.)

Oh well, I shrugged. Can't win 'em all.

So, when enraged, go find some cute neighborhood kids to hang out with, grab a much-needed beer, cuddle with your pup and thank God you are so lucky to have such a well-behaved, gentle creature in your life.

Accidents are bad, mmmkay?

2010-06-09T09:07:00.001-05:00

It recently occurred to me that I often write really random posts that have nothing to do with what's going on in my life. Example: how dumb kids are, my car permeating the Goog, life lessons, things I've wanted to tell people on Facebook...

Well, fasten your seat belts, kids, because I've got a doozy of an experience to share with you this week.

As you may know, my weird mom is on Twitter. I was checking her tweets on Sunday morning when I saw this:

Excuse me, WHAT?

I immediately called to see what the hell happened.

Apparently, she and my dad were driving back from a concert on Saturday night in her shit minivan. (Side note: She DID finally get a new car, but she believes it's too nice to drive to crappy places like outdoor venues.) Well, you know how sometimes the road curves and your car doesn't? That happened. Observe:

The minivan ended up flying off the road, onto the railroad tracks, halfway onto a pile of rocks. Mom's glasses flew off in the process and as she was looking for them, my dad tells her to GET OUT OF THE CAR NOW.

"But I need my glasses," she says, still searching.

"Franny," he snaps, "get OUT."

That's when she saw the train.

They both jump out of the car as the train hits the breaks. Because the train conductor saw the accident take place, he was able to stop before smashing Mom's precious van. Both parents made it out of there safely.

The cops who showed up at the scene told them that they were very lucky. Also, accidents happen in that exact spot roughly two to three times a week. Really, Tennessee? That's not a big clue that you need to put up a sign or, ya know, DO SOMETHING to stop that?

Anyway, the minivan was fixed for $81, which is probably half the value of the car, and everyone walked away just fine. Shaken, but fine. And thank God for that.

Be careful out there, people!

We shouldn't own nice things

2010-06-02T09:12:00.007-05:00

Remember that time Dave lost his wedding ring in the snow? And then I found it? And squealed with delight?

Well, bring on the panic attacks because it's lost again.

This time, we're convinced it's somewhere in the apartment. Dave says he took it off at some point on Sunday evening and put it on the dining room table before walking the dog that night. On Monday, sans ring, we went to Home Depot, got a ton of paint and started painting the bedroom. This included moving all the furniture, sweeping and creating multiple trash bags. On Tuesday before work, Dave didn't see the ring in plain sight so we both went to work without worrying about it.

And now here we are. Wednesday. No ring.

The thing is, Dave's not the only guilty party in this whole I-lose-nice-stuff fiasco...

It also appears that I have, um, misplaced a diamond earring, part of the set he got me as a wedding gift.

So, this morning, I tore the bedroom apart looking for it -- nothing. I finally confessed to Dave that I couldn't find it. But my guilt was quickly replaced by panic when he confessed that he still couldn't find his wedding ring. We shifted into high-gear and started scouring the apartment for it... and, of course, turned up nothing. Could it have been swept into one of the trash bags from painting? Did Rocco get a hold of it? Will it ever show up again?

Start praying to St. Anthony, folks. He came through last time. Let's see if he can do it again.

UPDATE: He found it! It was buried in a bag. Perhaps it's time to get that thing insured, no?

Kids are so stupid. Or maybe it was just me.

2010-05-28T12:25:00.001-05:00

You know how sometimes you just want kids to go away so you can have an adult conversation without worrying about saying anything bad?

Well, apparently, it's not very effective to say, "GET AWAY FROM ME, CHILD." It requires more creativity.

For my own parents, they used to tell me that it was time for "grown-up talk."

And can I tell you something?

I seriously thought they were speaking in a different language.

I KNOW, how idiotic. But when they used words like government, stock market, Reagan, Rain Man, mullet and assholes, I had no idea what they were saying. The only logical conclusion was that this mysterious grown-up talk was a new foreign language that I wouldn't learn until I was older.

I remember hiding out in the bathroom near our living room once, just hovering by the door trying to see if I could make out any of the words my parents were saying. Maybe I could teach myself some of this new language before I was a grown-up. I got caught and was sent back to my room to play with my brother and sister. (I think that's when I started grasping the concept of GOD DAMMIT.)

Anyway, I tell you this because it's important for you to know that little kids are stupid and will believe anything you tell them. So take advantage of this now, for as long as you can. Go forth and be a grown-up.

Oh, you think so?

2010-05-11T10:05:00.009-05:00

Dave's birthday is coming up on May 27, and this is what I just found on our shared Goog calendar.

WTF. So, just in case you're wondering how 5/27/2010 will play out:

Daytime TV

2010-05-06T10:44:00.000-05:00

I've written about the travesty that is daytime TV before. But when you're working your butt off and just want something on in the background, it's actually better that you're not totally into the crappy shows. At least, this is what I've discovered while working here, where we have TVs at our desks.

So, depending on what's doing on, here's what I may watch at any given point in the day:

9am-10am
Watch O or taping.

10am-11am
The View, even though I can't stand that Hasselback.

11am-12pm
Wendy Willlllllliams. How you derrring?

12pm-1pm
Deal or No Deal. Should be called Dealer or No Dealer because, seriously, most of those people are on DRUGS.

1pm-2pm
Afternoon taping or Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. I'm convinced that this will serve me well next time I do trivia.

2pm-3pm
You ARE NOT the father.

3pm-4pm
Ellen, because she's darling.

4pm-4:30pm
Extra, because I'm lame.

4:30-5:30
Friends, back to back.

5:30-6:00
The Office, back when it was good.

6:00-6:30
Seinfeld, while I wrap up my day.

Lately, however, I've actually gravitated towards my dear Hulu and started getting into some new shows. The latest series I'm into? Fringe. I've been watching Season 1 the last few weeks, mostly because I have a crush on Mark Valley for no real reason. Let's take a moment:

Look at that smirk! Did you know he's married to his co-star on Fringe, the blonde chick? Yet another travesty.

Moving on.

Anyway. Fringe. It's weird and creepy, but still a step above Maury, even with it's gruesome monsters and reality-suspending plots. Actually, maybe it's just like Maury...

Or, maybe it's time for me to get back to work. After all, Wendy Williams is almost on.

Life lessons

2010-04-28T09:01:00.000-05:00

This may shock you, but I make a fair amount of mistakes. Just... ya know... in life.

Of course, we all learn from our mistakes and blah blah blah, so that's good, I guess. But what's even better is that I'm sharing what I've learned from my mishaps so you don't end up in the same shit situations I've been in. Hooray!

Renting a car

Inspect the car all the way around as soon as you get it! Otherwise, the unsavory rental jerks will give you an Infiniti with a scratched bumper and try to pin it on you when you get back. I'M NOT PAYING YOU SHIT.

Cooking dinner

NEVER stand over a gas stove while wearing a dress
Never put your spices above your stove
When in doubt, add garlic. And cheese.

Preparing a resume

Every time you do something badass at your current job, write it down. Write down numbers, money you brought in, site traffic you drove, etc. This will help tremendously in case you get shit-canned unexpectedly and need a new gig.

Planning a wedding

Drink a lot of wine
Don't try to please everyone
Chill the fuck out; it's one day
Read all of these tips that no one tells you

Working with an (or multiple) idiots

Drink a lot of wine
Don't try to please everyone
Chill the fuck out; it's just a job

Getting a puppy

If it doesn't feel right, don't get the dog. Don't. Dave and I did this once 4 years ago (long story) and it didn't end well.
Consider adoption. I said I'd never adopt because I wouldn't know the dog's background and I wanted to raise a puppy from the beginning. But, I quickly realized adoption allows you to bypass the (literally) shitty puppy issues, spend far less money and save a life in the process.

Helping a friend

When your clumsy friend/boss takes a spill on a busy sidewalk, don't make a big deal out of it. Just pick her up, brush her off and keep on going with hardly a break in the conversation. She'll thank you.

Freelance writing

Subscribe to Freelance Daily
Build your own website to house your portfolio
Steer clear of bidding sites like Elance, where your rates are more important than quality work
Don't suck at writing

Sewing

Get cheap, cute fabric from Fabric.com
Always, always, always order a swatch first, otherwise you might be stuck with 15 yards of pea-green drapes that you've stuffed into the corner of your dining room
Make your own Roman shades with these instructions
Be friends with Suzanne

Moving

Pay movers. Seriously, it's worth it. (If you're in Chicago, we loved, loved, loved Movetastic.)
Do not pack boxes when you're drunk
Do not move to an apartment with a Whole Foods in the building unless you want to flirt with being broke and fat

That's all I've got.

My dad

2010-04-22T19:22:00.003-05:00

My dad, who is visiting soon with Mom, got a smart phone recently and it's been HILARIOUS.

Case in point:

(And you wonder why I'm like this.)

Moments after this text, he calls me. As we're talking through next weekend's plans, I get a beep. Call waiting.

Hmm.

I check to see who's beeping in and it's.... MY DAD.

"Dad, what the shit are you doing?"

Nothing.

"Hello? Dad?"

Nothing.

So, I click over to the other call.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you DOING?"

"I don't know! I'm just sitting outside, minding my own business. This damn thing has too many buttons. I think I'm pressing them by accident."

It frightens me that this is only the beginning...

Seriously?

2010-04-15T16:38:00.004-05:00

Oh my god, there's no escaping The Big Green Monster.

It is forever immortalized in front of my parents' house on the Goog. Whyyyyy?

Tag, I'm it

2010-04-14T12:43:00.003-05:00

Shellbell tagged me for this "what's in your purse" thing, so here's a bunch of trash I'm carting around today.

Massive white Kate Spade wallet I bought on eBay forever ago
Meds that help keep me from flipping out on Dave
Tampons, even though I'm not on my period
Clear top coat of nail polish from OPI
Charger for my iPhone, since it's always, always dead
Sunglasses
Flimsy umbrella from H&M (under the sunglasses)
A bar receipt from my STL trip last weekend
COLD MEDS because I'm in my own private hell right now
A tea bag I'm planning to use this afternoon (see above)
Hand sanitizer that smells amazing
Two peppermints from god-knows-where
A lonely green car key to The Big Green Monster
The rest of my keys, who want nothing to do with the car key
My abused checkbook

Okay, okay, looks like my purse could use a little cleaning out every once in a while. This is pretty standard for me though. I'm not known as the world's neatest person...

Sooo, do you carry around as much shit as I do? (Say yes.)

National Food Blogger Bake Sale

2010-04-12T22:04:00.004-05:00

Ha. I bet you thought I was going to bake something.

Actually... no, you know me better than that.

Even though I try to stay out of the kitchen these days, I still love me some baked goods. Oh, and charities. That's why I wanted to tell you about this:

National Food Blogger Bake Sale
Saturday, April 17
12pm-3pm CST
Smash Cake Bakery
2961 N. Lincoln Ave. (at Wellington)
Proceeds to benefit Share Our Strength

This thing is actually taking place across the country, so if you're not in Chicago, click here to see where your local blogger bake sale will be.

One of my favorite foodies, Maris from In Good Taste, is hosting the Chicago bake sale, so if you want to get involved in any way -- baking, helping set up the sale, sending out a media release, stuffing your face with goodies -- just shoot her an email: mariscallahan [at] gmail [dot] com.