Typical

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.

Over and out

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.

My birth story, as told by mom via text

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

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.

Tag, I'm it

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.)

1 fun facial and many awkward moments

I went and got my first facial ever with Angie yesterday. After a bloody mary brunch, we popped over to the Aveda Institute to indulge in a little pampering. (Is there a better way to spend a Friday afternoon?)

Let me rephrase. I got pampered.

Ang got... awkwardly prodded, I would say.

After checking in, we waited for our facialists (?) to come get us. An adorable, tall, slender gay guy walked over to the waiting area.

"Lisa?"

Woo hoo! I smiled and followed him back to his area.

Ang patiently waited for her person. A cute, petite girl about our age walked up. Angie smiled.

The cute girl did not call Angie's name.

I imagine Angie scowled a bit as she waited some more. A large, white-trashy woman with red hair and no make-up waddled up.

"Angie?" she barked.

Ooof.

So, from the moment we got picked up by our facialists, we had very different experiences.


My guy: Discussed different facial options based on my skin type.
Ang's girl: Didn't.

My guy: Asked about my current skincare routine and made great recommendations.
Ang's girl: Obsessed over Angie's great skin in a creepy, I-want-to-wear-it kind of way.

My guy: Spoke in a soft, soothing voice.
Ang's girl: Spoke like a trucker shouting to a friend across the bar.

My guy: Gently took off my make-up before beginning.
Ang's girl: Was mesmerized by Ang's "purple eyeshadow." Except it wasn't eye shadow. It was the black eye she'd told this chick about 10 min ago.

My guy: Asked me if I was comfortable.
Ang's girl: Asked her if she "HEARD WHAT THAT TEACHER JUST SAID, HAHA."

My guy: Gave great foot, hand, arm, shoulder and neck massages.
Ang's girl: Kneaded her like a loaf of bread.

My guy: Had me fill out a comment card and quickly tossed it into a basket.
Ang's girl: Had her fill out a comment card and then read it.

My guy: Got a good tip.
Ang's girl: Didn't.


I begged Ang to post about the experience on her own blog so you can get the full effect. Trust me, I don't do it justice.

Anyway, this experience has me convinced that I need a facial every 5 weeks. I also just bought some fun stuff on Sephora, thanks to a gift card from my SIL. With all this and a little dedication, I'll be looking like a preteen in no time.


UPDATE: She posted!

War

My fuck-off face.

My body and I are in a fight.

When I turned 26, my body declared war on drinking, eating whatever I want, chocolate, popcorn, drinking and more drinking. WHAT THE HELL, BODY? (Also, why must everything I consume go to my stomach and face rather than, ya know, my boobs?)

All of a sudden, I have to watch what I eat and start working out. Gone are the days of flitting around in tight tops while scarfing down five beers and a basket of onion rings dipped in ranch. Nobody told me this was going to happen.

In fact, my mom essentially told me the opposite. She's been teeny tiny her whole life. Didn't weigh 100 pounds until she got married and even now -- in her 50s -- she tops out around 112. And she's had babies. I, on the other hand, just look like I'm having babies. Not cool, stomach. I'm coming after you.

So, this is war, I guess. Stupid body. One thing's for sure: I'm not going down without a fight.

I'm back

...With freckles.

When youthful indulgence stops being cute

I saw a woman in her late 50s at the pool the other day wearing a two-piece bathing suit.

What caught my attention wasn't the fact that she was decked out in a bikini, but that she had a tattoo stretched out across her lower back.

She. Looked. Ridiculous.

As I silently judged her, perched lazily on my lounge chair, I glanced down at my own body. I've got a few tattoos of my own, but that's not what I started obsessing over. Instead, I focused directly on my stomach, asking myself the question that anyone in their late 20s should ask.

How old is too old for a navel ring?

I've had my belly button pierced for many years now and ever since I started wearing a bathing suit this season (like, two weeks ago because it's been so frickin cold in Chicago), I've been wondering if it's time to take that sucker out.

It's not gaudy. It doesn't dangle. It's not oversized. It's just a simple, standard jewel. Yet I can't help but wonder if people will soon start looking at me like I look at 55-year-old women with tramp stamps... if they haven't already.

I mean, a cry for attention is no longer acceptable once you pass 21. We're older! We're wiser! We know better!

So, at what point do you let go of this innocent, youthful rebellion and transition into piercing-free adulthood? I'm thinking soon...

The proper way to hold a baby

Champagne glass: never less than half full
Grip: around the stem of the glass to keep the champagne cold
Baby: quiet and asleep

I gotta tell ya, this parenting thing seems pretty easy.

Almost famous

Our wedding photos got featured in an ad for Hotel 71 in this month's issue of CS Bride! (p.103)


Can I just rave one more time about our amazing, amazing vendors?

Flowers: Lala from A Golden Leaf -- where our flowers are featured too
Photogs: Nick and Frank from Orange2Photo
Makeup: Renee from LoveHowYouLook (site's gone?)
Hair: Miles from Paul Rehder
Music: Kate and Rachel from Toast & Jam (nothing to do with the ad, but they were AWESOME)

Have I shown you my new glasses?

I don't know if you remember, but I've had the same glasses for, oh, 14 years. They're not TERRIBLE, I guess, but I finally got tired of Dave's reaction each time I'd put them on: Either he'd make fun of my relentlessly or he'd look at me with an unbearable amount of pity.

So, here's the before and after:

Before: Tortoise wire frames from the little kid's section because of my freakishly narrow face.

After: Trendier chocolate brown frames with pink on the inside

It'll be hilarious when the fashion trends circle back around and I reflect on this post going, "What the HELL was I thinking with those thick frames?" For now? I look good. I mean real good.

More than you wanted to know

I meant to tell you guys, I love that most of you were considerate enough to let your readers know that you were going to go AWOL around the holidays. It's expected, of course, but you still gave us that courteous heads up.

Me? I simply disappeared. Sowwwrrrryyy.

And now that I'm back, I've gone through my reader and found that my dear Ang has specifically called me out and challenged me to name 25 random things (facts, habits, goals, whatever) about myself.



1. I almost never go without nail polish.

2. I became vegetarian at age 3 when I was told that hamburgers are cows.

3. I became less of a vegetarian at age 20 when I realized that if I didn't add chicken to my dorm food diet, I might actually die of malnutrition.

4. I have naturally wavy hair. I would call it curly, but that wrongly implies that it is capable of looking pretty. So I straighten it. Every day.

5. I have 3 tattoos. I don't think I'll be getting any more because that shit hurts.

6. I grew up with a mom who has scleroderma. I wasn't supposed to -- science said she had a 20% chance of survival past 5 years at the time of her diagnosis. That was 1993. As you know, that crazy hippie is still alive and kicking.

7. You wouldn't think it, but I cry pretty easily.

8. I get claustrophobic on the trains and the commute is the main reason I'm resistant toward moving to Wicker Park.

9. I am tone deaf.

10. I truly wonder if I ever want children...

11. My shower curtain, umbrella and wedding dress are all Nicole Miller. I fully admit that I have a problem.

12. I believe that EVERYONE who knows an addict should attend an open NA meeting. Even if you cry (see #7)... I honestly wonder if NarAnon could possibly be as eye-opening.

13. I'm a cooler -- if I gamble, not only will I lose, but if you're sitting near me, you'll lose too. Casinos should employ me to just wander around and sit near people who are making too much money.

14. I rarely wear jewelry.

15. I have an unhealthy crush on Paul Rudd and no one else. Uhhhh, except Dave, of course. (And it took me a re-read to realize how that sounded without the caveat.)

16. This past year, I turned down a job working for one of the richest woman in America (the queen of all media -- and no, I'm not talking about Perez Hilton). I now spend every waking moment WHY I did such a thing and wondering just how badly I burned that bridge.

17. I absolutely must get 8 hours of sleep or else I'm a nightmare to be around. Like, more than usual.

18. Sometimes I have a hard time answering my cell phone because I like to listen to my ring tones (which are mostly Flight of the Conchords).

19. I hate Jessica Alba, Kirsten Dunst, Kiera Knightly and Holly from The Girls Next Door.

20. My mom put condoms in my Christmas stocking this year. What is WRONG WITH HER?

21. When I got a glass of wine on the plane immediately after travel hell, I wasn't carded -- but the girl in front of me was. Am I starting to look haggard?

22. I almost always fall asleep with the TV on. It's often tuned to something that normal people don't fall asleep to, like The First 48 or another equally grotesque series that features dead bodies.

23. I really only clean my apartment when I know I'm having people over. Otherwise, it kinda looks like a trailer park war zone, peppered with decent furniture.

24. The only two times I've traveled out of the country, I went to Cancun and Australia. Frankly, that's a little embarrassing, but I've got to admit that I'm not dying to be a world traveler.

25. I've had the same glasses since 7th grade and I desperately need to update that look. Very, very desperately.



Okay, there ya go. I'm not tagging anyone specifically, but I would love to read some details from those of you who comment here quite a bit. Let's hear it!

Pity party, table for 1

Well, my birthday is on Saturday. As I mentioned in my last post, I have mixed feelings about this. To sum it all up...

December birthdays SUCK.

December birthdays for Jewtherans, however, suck the most. (Jewtheran = Jew + Lutheran = Hanukkah + Christmas = Me. Oy vey.)

It's not the combo birthday/Hanukkah/Christmas present as much as it is the whole feeling of inconvenience surrounding the celebration. I guess I get it, since my birthday is a bit of an inconvenience for me too. We're all busy around the holidays, making sure we get our holiday cards out on time, shopping for presents, making sure we don't forget anyone, wrapping those presents, attending parties, planning dinners, wrapping up end-of-the-year projects at work -- it's a busy freaking time. And right while everyone's in total crazed holiday mode, BAM. Birthday. It's often an "oh shit" moment.

For most birthday celebrations, it's a much different feeling/celebration because there's nothing else to focus on. We are able to not just remember the birthday, but also plan something special, put some careful thought into a birthday card and come together for one pointed event (read: drunk fest).

December birthdays are different. The plans seem more harried, the cards are an afterthought and the excitement has more to do with the almost-here Chrismahanukwanzakah. In the past, some people have forgotten to acknowledge my birthday, others run out and pick up a card ON my birthday before thrusting it into my hands. I'm not saying I'm more important than Jesus or the festival of lights, but, man, do I hate feeling like an inconvenience. And in typical first-born fashion, I simply don't want to share my birthday with the holidays anymore! Eff off holidays! My turn!

And, yes, I'm aware that all of this makes me a whiny, bratty grouch. Bah fucking humbug.

So that's how I feel about my birthday, Internet. I want to like it, but I simply don't. I'll probably be a royal pain in the ass for the next two weeks, so to keep the bitterness to a minimum, I'll do what I do best. Drinky drinky!

Another (less Intervention-worthy) option is to change my birthday to April. Nothing happens in April! No one else I know has an April birthday, there's no major holiday that month, it's not close enough to summer to be filled with chaos. April is the perfect birthday month. Might not be a bad idea... I'll think about it, and if I do feel like demanding a party, presents and undivided attention that month, I'll be sure to let you know.

Vlog this

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

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

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




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

No longer a tag virgin

I've been tagged, ya'll.

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

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



1. I'm a vegetarian. Kinda.

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


2. I almost went to law school.

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


3. Dave and I had a dog once.

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


4. I hate bananas.

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


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

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


6. I'm a pizza snob.

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



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

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

New apartment

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

Twitter makes me feel stupid

Ang just signed up for Twitter today, which means that she harassed me to sign up as well. So I did. And now we both feel much more idiotic than we did when our day started.

We have been learning about Twittering, Twinkles, Twhirls and all sorts of twi-related stuff. We're like lost little puppies being taught to shit outside for the first time. Not the most elegant analogy, I know, but the confusion, awkwardness and language barrier remain the same.

I've also already been asked if my image is a bottle of wine an some underwear. (Thanks, Zannie.) Should make for some interesting followers, no?

Let's see where this ends up...

on twitter: elle_michelle

I look good. I mean REAL good.

Just got back from my makeup trial. This chick knows her shit. I am beyond pleased that she did not make me look like a hooker.

Not only am I going to share makeup pictures with you right now, but but you'll also witness what happens on the very first time I use Photo Booth unsupervised. (Remember what happened when I used it at work? Or were you trying to forget?)

Please ignore my not-showered hair. That's just how I roll on Monday mornings.

Starting with a nice picture.

Aaaand what happens if I get closer?

Scared myself with the last one. Let's move farther back...

If I had MySpace, I'd totally post this as my emo-pensive pic.

I am annoyed you can't see how flawless my skin really looks.
Also that Dave's bike is the centerpiece of our living room.

T-minus 19 days. Kinda makes me want to throw up a lil bit. But if that happens, at least I'll look good doing it.

Alcoholic?

I've had a pretty lush-filled week, I've noticed. Ironically, it has felt like the longest week ever, but who cares at this point? I actually drank so much this week, I recently started experiencing flashes of Intervention. Am I developing a teensy weensy problem?


Why I might be an alcoholic:
-- I drink when I'm irritated.
-- I drink when I'm happy.
-- I drink to celebrate things.
-- I drink when it's a nice day outside and I can sit on the balcony.
-- I order a drink with almost every meal.
-- I often drink to get drunk.
-- I drink before Dave gets home.
-- Okay, fine, I'll just say it: I'll drink alone.

Why I'm definitely not an alcoholic:
-- I have a delicious glass of wine in front of me and I can't stop eating these damn Cheez-Its! Mixing them will just be gross, so the sharp cheddar is winning out over the vino. Big time.


SOMEONE TAKE THESE AWAY FROM ME.