Bitemarks

The honeymoon conundrum

2011-10-07T14:15:00.001-07:00

Let’s talk about The Knot and their insane list of wedding to-dos. When I first signed up on the site, I received an email that said something along the lines of, “Yay! You’re engaged (finally)! The fun part’s over. Now get your ass in gear because you only have 407 DAYS to plan the best day of your life and there are a ton of people counting on you, and let’s face it, judging you…SUCKA!”

I mean, at that point, I didn’t speak WEDDING yet, so that’s what I assume it said between all the flower and cake vendor reccos.

So, I’ve been diligently attacking this list of 189 TASKS like a semi-interested pitbull, and I’m finding out that my usual LOVE for making a list and checking it twice has been overshadowed by just how overwhelming this list actually is. I mean, they have everything down to the Nth degree, including “Getting in shape for your big day!” According to the Knot that was supposed to start about 4 months ago…way to be realistic, knot. (Did you see what I did there? I used “knot,” as the sarcastic zing from the 80’s known as “not.” Dan’s so lucky to marry someone so clever!)

So after getting all the huge things out of the way, like venue, photographer, and my dress (which I’m having serious second thoughts about), I decided to take a little break. As in, I deleted every email The Knot sent me for about 2 months and pretended the ring on my finger was just a ruse so I wouldn’t get hit on in bars, or by creepy people on the train who ask me if I’m Russian, to which I smoothly reply, “No, I actually left on time today!” because I thought he asked if I was rushin’. (True Story)

Anyway, it’s time to get back into the planning groove and I just checked “Find a DJ” off and I’m thiiiiiiiiis close to checking “find a florist” and “eat some cake” off the list, so now I want to move on to something FUN. But living in Chicago and planning a wedding in Michigan, means all the FUN stuff, like eating cake or picking our flowers has to be done in trips to MI. So I thought…what could I do that falls under the FUN category and includes the internet? EASY. Look up honeymoon destinations!

The thing is, Dan and I differ immensely on our ideas of what a honeymoon should be.

My idea: Go somewhere you’ve never been and experience together. I don’t know when we’ll have another week or two to just spend on vacation, especially once we start having kids, etc…so we should use this time to do something crazy our out of the ordinary!

Dan’s idea: A honeymoon is about spending alone time with each other and having your first week or two as a married couple be uninterrupted and relaxing. Basically, he wants us to be in some honeymoon love cocoon for 2 weeks straight…which, in theory sounds romantic, but I’m afraid it may get a little boring after day 3! So we’ve narrowed it down to a few places:

Hawaii

Dan has been promising to take me to see a volcano since we didn’t get to go on the excursion in Costa Rica. But I’ve heard Hawaii is just ridiculously expensive. And the thought of trying to narrow down which Island to go to gives me anxiety. If you’ve been and you have suggestions, let me know!

St. Lucia

We have friends who went here on their honeymoon and loved it. If we decide on the all-inclusive experience, this is probably where we’ll end up. And a island hopping from one Virgin Island to another might break up the experience a little so it doesn’t seem like we spent all our time in one place.

Ireland

I’ve been dying to go back to Europe since I backpacked with my cousin in 2006 and I’ve never seen Ireland! Our honeymoon would be the perfect excuse! Dan’s already been to Ireland, but I think we could have a nice mix of relaxing and sightseeing here. Plus, we could kiss the blarney stone and start our marriage off with some “eloquence,” whatever that means!

Canada

We’d start at Niagara Falls for some romantic picture taking, and then head into Canada. Montreal in the summer? I’m not sure any of the other places I’ve listed could be better! And Dan and I have both never been, so it would be new for the two of us.

A cruise to…somewhere

Is it tacky to go on a cruise for your honeymoon? I’ve never been on one. And I’m afraid it will be so structured as to what you can and can’t do/see, that we’ll have a miserable time. I don’t want to be on a schedule, at all, on my honeymoon, but this is a VERY economical option. P.S. Doesn't this look like a cruise from the future?

I also suggested Greece, but that was shot down IMMEDIATELY, although I’m still not really sure why.

Where would you go if the decision were up to you? Or, if you’ve had a honeymoon, where was it and was it everything you BOTH wanted?

How I SPENT my Sunday

2011-09-26T15:22:00.000-07:00

So...I'm just going to come right out and say it. I have a LOVE/HATE relationship with Target. I love it for obvious reasons...I mean where else can you get a cardigan for $22 that doesn't fall apart (I'm looking at YOU Forever 21)? But here's the thing. Every time I decide to go to Target, I know it's going to be a 2-hour trip. I can try to convince myself all I want that "I'm just going to run in for _________" and SOMEHOW I'll come out with $200 worth of stuff I didn't intend to buy. I don't know how it happens. Even when I have a list, it just does.

So yesterday, when my friend Dianna (who's a total enabler and loves Target just as I do) suggested we "just run into Target" to see if the Missoni pouf ottoman that was an online purchase, therefore was being sold for HALF OFF, was still there, I agreed in a heartbeat. It wasn't there, of course. But another one was in an even better color, so we swooped that up for $50, even though we only semi-needed it. And Dianna wouldn't let me go into the clothes (smart girl), so I jokingly pulled a cardigan off of the perimeter and ended up loving it and keeping it. Puke green with polka dots? I NEEDED IT! Did I mention I'm supposed to be SAVING for a wedding?

Dan and I are going to TRY to pay for as much of our July 2012 wedding as we can, but with the move we just made, saving isn't going so well. Oh, and I have a shopping problem. But anyway.

Then we wandered over to the bed stuff, because I've been searching for months for a blanket that Dan and I would both agree on. I haven't been able to find anything suitable because it's either too expensive or too girlie. There are A MILLION flowery vintage looking quilts out there that I know Dan would hate, so I passed them up and eventually found the ONE. It tows the line between manly and girlie with purple and gray stripes. And since Dan radiates heat like an oven when we sleep, it's the exact weigh we neededt! Thanks a lot Target for having the perfect blanket when I didn't have the budget to buy it (But I did anyway).

So after finding the cutest manket (man blanket?) ever, I realized that my current throw didn't match. And that I should probably have a throw pillow as well! So what did I do? I bought this gray and white striped thing and then headed over to Home Goods, which is conveniently across the parking lot from Target "just to see" what they had.

And boy did Home Goods have a lot.

A $100 bench in IKAT print to be exact!

What that's, you say?! You just bought an ottoman and that IKAT bench totally clashes? That would be CRAZY to buy a bench when you don't have a place for it just because it's the most beautiful bench in the world. Yes, it would be crazy. But I never claimed to be sane. So I bought it...along with a gray fuzzy throw that feels as soft as rabbit fur, but isn't really rabbit fur...because that would be gross.

So let's add this up. I went into Target for a $50 ottoman. And if Dianna and I split the cost, it would have only been $25! But we didn't split the cost because Dianna bought a table runner, serving platter and curtain rods for the apartment (that we also didn't go into Target for) and which cost as much as the Ottoman.

Actual Target spend: $170

I went into Home Goods expecting to spend $20 on a throw.

Actual Home Goods spend: $130

If I'm the lamest person for the next 2 months, it's because I'm now on a self-imposed spending freeze. But you know what's free? Coming over and sitting on my NEW BENCH with me!

Bandages on my legs and my arms for you

2011-09-12T15:27:00.000-07:00

So we recently moved from one Chicago ’hood to another. And in exchange for leaving a neighborhood governed by the Latin Jivers (a gang of teenage boys) for a section of the city overrun with baby strollers and YPs (young professionals) we had to give up A LOT of apartment perks, LIKE:

In-unit laundry. I now have to hoof it down a flight of stairs to a dingy basement where the washer costs $1 (until it breaks, according to our landlord) and spiders are EVERYWHERE! I hate those creepy bastards (the spiders, not my landlords).* By the way, does anyone know how to break a washer so I can do my laundry for free like at our old place?

A walk-in closet. Do I sound spoiled? Probably. But my last apartment had a walk-in closet that was about the size of my new bedroom! In fact, it was so big that I didn’t realize how much stuff I had actually accumulated over the last three years because I always had room for more. I do have to say, it did feel quite liberating to get rid of a truckload of crap because it wouldn’t fit in my new child-sized bedroom. But after 2 weeks in this new apartment I’d take a walk-in closet over liberated in a heartbeat!

A sleeping arrangement that doesn’t make me want to rip my hair out. My new room is so small that to fit my dresser, I had to turn the bed sideways. This leaves only one side of the bed open, with the other three butting up against a wall. Kind of like this, but my setup isn't as cute and airy looking since there isn't a window right above the bed. The jankiness of it all, I could deal with. But Dan has this THING where he has to sleep on the outside of the bed, always, with the fan blowing ON HIS FACE. Such a pampered boy, right? This was fine at our old apartment, because my bed had space on each side of it so I didn’t feel like I was sleeping on “the inside”. Not anymore! Twice so far, I’ve woken up sandwiched between the wall and an almost coma-like fiance after a fit of sleep-cuddling. I’ve then had to throw what feels like a giant bear arm off of me to keep from freaking out!

But the claustrophobia isn’t even the worst part of our new sleeping arrangement. It’s the bruising.

You see, to get out of bed and turn off my phone alarm, I have to physically shimmy over Dan and out of the bed, without hitting his currently sprained ankle, and arms outstretched, zombie walk my way over to my dresser where my phone is tethered to the only outlet in the room! Now imagine doing this at 6 am, in the dark, after a fitful night of half-sleep because the wall is just too goddamn close. And then maybe you’ll understand why I’ve got more than a few bruises on my legs from running into things or falling off the bed as I’m trying to get out of it.

HGTV, I could really use a spot on one of your shows. Maybe send that really cute gay designer, David something, to my house to help me organize my room and remedy this situation. I’ve already got a title for the episode “Help, I’ve fallen because my fiancé needs a fan on his face!”

*Okay, I haven’t actually seen a spider because I’m too afraid to go down in the basement and do laundry, but our upstairs neighbor warned us about them! And as soon as I run out of underwear, I’m SURE I’ll see one!

I'm turning into a weirdo

2011-09-09T10:34:00.000-07:00

Since getting engaged in April, my blogging effort has dropped dramatically. Not because I’m bored with blogging. I have so much to tell you guys! I’ve written thousands of (or at least upwards of 10) posts in my head that were never put up, mainly because I’m afraid of becoming a wedding blogger…and frankly I didn’t want to bore you with all the little details.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE reading wedding blogs. In fact, it’s become a part of my daily routine, and a personal goal of mine is to now be featured one on (preferable Green Wedding Shoes or Style Me Pretty). But in reality, my version of a “wedding” blog would probably entail me complaining about the planning process, coupled with pictures of cute, rustic, vintage DIY fun stuff I want to do for my wedding. But if you really want that, you can just check out MY PINTEREST! It’s pretty popular. I get at least one re-pin a day, mostly from the girl who has shamelessly stolen my wedding theme!

Basically, since this wedding is all-consuming, I’ve had nothing else to write about! So I decided to tell you a story of how I’m turning into a weirdo, or as some would say, a big fat nerd.

You see, I got a Kindle for my birthday. Don’t even get me started on the difference between reading a Kindle and a real book, because THERE IS A DIFFERENCE. But to get myself used to turning a digital page instead of a real one, the first books I bought on it were “The Hunger Games”. As they’re made for young adults and really freaking good, I read all three in a weekend! Don’t judge, I was in the car a lot. And after giving Dan a detailed account of each one, so he wouldn’t feel like I was sitting in the car ignoring him, (even though I was) while he drove us to a friend’s wedding and back, he called me a nerd and accused me of something so vile, I can barely type out the words.

He accused me of….

LIKING FANTASY BOOKS!

And yes, I say accused because to me, people who read fantasy books are the ultimate in nerds. They’re socially awkward. They L.A.R.P. (Live Action Role Play). They don’t read real books with substance. They’re the romance novel readers of the male persuasion. I don’t know why I have this perception, since Dan reads fantasy novels almost exclusively, and he’s none of the things I’ve mentioned above. I just do.

To prove me wrong, Dan started listing all of the things I like that he considers Fantasy and/or Sci-Fi, which personally, I consider to be way cooler than Fantasy (aliens beat magical elves every time, hands down):

Game of Thrones (the TV version) (What, just because murderous creatures are stalking the people of Winterfell and one of the main characters has dragon blood in her and can walk through fire, this is considered fantasy? Come on.)

Harry Potter (Doesn’t count. The whole world likes this. Even football players.)

True Blood (Also shouldn’t count, even though there are fairies, and werewolves, and vampires. Because there’s also A LOT of sex in that show, and we all know that people who like fantasy novels never get any. Am I right? Up top!)

Battlestar Galactica (For four years of our relationship, I refused to watch this because I considered it too nerdy. One day Dan convinced me to “just try it”…he’s good that way…and now I’m hooked. Dammit!!!)

Hunger Games (This seems more Sci-Fi, or even in the Thriller category, to me since all the magical/murderous creatures are genetically engineered, but I guess it could go either way)

Legend of the Seeker: I don’t want to talk about it. I have no excuse for why I like this show except for that I thought the main guy was cute.

So there you have it. I’m a big nerd, who likes to live in a fantasy world where fantasy books are labeled as anything but and where I’m NOT reading an R.A. Salvatore book on my Kindle, that once again Dan convinced me to “just try it,” and so far I like it.

What a great chewsome we make

2011-06-07T19:15:00.000-07:00

I hardly ever put Dan in charge of dinner. Mainly, because I love to cook. And secondly, because he's so bad at it. He's great at the eating part. But combining ingredients that actually go together...not so much.

When I say, "What's for dinner?" Dan's favorite response is, "A SMORGASBORD!" which is usually all of the leftovers in the fridge heated up in the microwave on ONE plate that we both eat off of.

Other typical responses, "Dan's Mac 'N Cheese" which is Kraft macaroni and cheese with garlic, black pepper, crushed red pepper, some other spices I don't recognize, and Ritz crackers crushed up on top.

One time, after a long stressful date at work, I came home to egg and cheese sandwiches with a side of Stove Top.

But tonight takes the cake. I came home to something boiling on the stove. And I was happy, because that means he actually attempted to cook something and the pot wasn't large enough for mac 'n cheese. I lifted the lid and it was Italian sausage (the ones I had bought yesterday to make sausage, peppers and onions this week).

Then I saw cut up asparagus on the cutting board and got really impressed because he hates vegetables. Not so sure asparagus goes with Italian sausage, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And then I saw corn meal.

And then I saw Texas toast (that I had purchased to go with some pasta this week).

In one fell swoop, Dan had put a kink in two of the meals I had planned for the week and I still had no idea what HE was planning.

When he finally told me, it sounded like an episode of CHOPPED. You know...that show where chefs make delicious meals out of 4 ingredients that don't go together AT ALL. Only I wasn't sold on the deliciousness part...

His plan

Italian sausage--first boiled (for no apparent reason), then fried.

Asparagus rolled in some corn meal and cooked in a frying pan. I pointed out that we didn't have any egg to bread the asparagus with. And he, very confidently said, "I've seen this done at least 30 times before. You just roll it around in the corn meal and it sticks." Okay...

The Texas toast you ask? Oh, he was going to put the Italian sausage ON it, because we didn't have any buns.

Every time Dan cooks it reminds me of one of my favorite Shel Silverstein poems.

Shortened version:

If you have to dry the dishes

And you drop one on the floor—

Maybe they won’t let you

Dry the dishes anymore

The thing is, when Dan makes food, each individual piece is usually pretty good. But they aren't good TOGETHER.

This is how my food showed up.

Yes, it's a smiley face.

I may be eating my words after trying his Italian sausage, Texas toast, and cornmeal breaded asparagus feast. And if it's super delicious, I'll apologize on the internet and in person. But for now, I'm happy to sit in the living room while the smell of garlic (and maybe tabasco sauce?) assaults my nose.

The venue search is OVER!

2011-05-30T20:49:00.000-07:00

Since we started planning this wedding a month ago, I've been saying, "When does it get fun?" And everyone's response is, "After you book the venue and get the big stuff out of the way." So guess what? I'm ready for it to be fun now! Because this weekend, we did it. We picked a venue, signed our lives away on the dotted line, and wrote a check to hold our date. Okay...Dan wrote a check, but I was cheering him on the whole time.

"Give me a D! D, you got your D, you got your D. Give me an A! A, you've got your A, you've got your A. Give me an N! N, you got your N, you got your N." And so on...

If you follow me on Twitter, you probably saw this tweet.

And then I left the 4 people who cared hanging and didn't tell you which one we picked!

Well, the pickle factory was adorable, and perfect in every way, especially in the price way, BUT it had one downfall and it's a big one. The decorations looked like they belonged in a nursing home at Christmas time.

I'm talking twig wreaths in the shape of hearts, fake ivy EVERYWHERE, and tulle. So much God damn tulle and you aren't allowed to remove any of it. Anything that was up on a wall had to stay there. Believe me, I asked 7 or 8 times. And the only tools you were allowed to decorate with is masking tape. Check out these insane rules. Even though it had the most adorable little museum in it for people to mill around during the cocktail hour, etc...

...I couldn't deal with the ivy, so we moved on to the loft space.

This space was gorgeous. It was pretty much a blank canvas to which I could do ANYTHING I WANTED!! It was the complete opposite of the pickle factory and way more modern than what I thought I wanted and I fell in love. Until I saw the price tag. At minimum, we would have spent $15,000 on the reception and our whole entire budget is $20,000, which I thought was a decent amount until we started actually looking into things. If we cut our guest list in half, we could have afforded this place. But Dan has 30 first cousins and his mom is 1 of 9, so we were screwed from the get-go.

And then we looked at the barns. They were rustic, but not dirty. They had an outdoor space for a ceremony and both came with half of the decorations I was going to buy anyway...paper lanterns, white lights, etc...

But one barn venue stood out above the other. I knew it was the place when we walked up and the owner had a cowboy hat on and not bedazzled jeans like the guy who showed us the loft space. And then I saw the bridal suite and the DANCE HALL, a separate space attached to the venue with a stage and a bar, and Dan's face said he loved it, too. It looks like it was meant for us. Sneak peek below. What do you guys think?

Bring on the food tastings and the dress buying! The two things I'm most excited about. :)

I got compromisoed

2011-05-22T06:32:00.000-07:00

Forgive me father for I have sinned. It's been about 3 months since my last blogging confession.

Now, let's see...My last post was in February, so let's start there!

February...Lincoln had a birthday or something? Other than that...not much happened. Like seriously, nothing.

March...I hit my one year anniversary at work and I STILL like going to my job every day! Can you believe it? The day I have to leave that place is going to be a sad sad day because I know I'll never find a job I like as much as the one I have right now. I also went on a buying binge of stuff for Costa Rica, half of which I didn't wear. :|

April...Dan and I went to Costa Rica for 9 days. And came back engaged! We're still "living in sin," but not for that much longer.

You know, it's kind of ironic that my last post was about whether you should get to pick out your ring or not. I did get to...sort of! And, now you know what this post is really about...THE RING!

Dan's dad's friend runs estate sales and we went to look at his "inventory," which basically means we went to a pawn shop to look at rings. I thought we were going to someone's house, so when we pulled up, I immediately vocalized the fact that I WAS NOT getting a ring from a pawn shop. But, Dan put his foot down, and we went in anyway, and 3 minutes in I found the perfect ring. But I didn't want to buy it, of course. Because someone else had already worn it, and it looked like it. The band was misshapen and we knew we needed to get a new one. Plus, it had been in the pawn shop for who knows how long, and it was dingy. So we looked at all the other jewelry (hideous), and then went to Helzberg's, which was 5 minutes away. Picking out a ring is like picking out a puppy. You need to form an attachment right away or you'll hate it forever. And I just couldn't feel anything for any of the Helzberg's rings. Plus, I couldn't stop thinking about that estate sale ring from the 50's that was just so unique and beautiful! 1 carat diamond, double shank with 8 little diamonds inlayed, that turned into a solid shank.

So we left Helzberg's and then the search for the perfect ring, a.k.a. one that looked just like the pawn shop ring, began online and turned up nada.

Sooo, long story short. Dan's dad goes back to the pawn shop for us, since he's friends with the owner and is going to try to get us a deal. He buys the ring, has it checked out at Helzberg's, where he finds out that the diamond is cracked and the prongs are so worn that we pretty much paid for nothing. Basically, the only salvageable part on the ring is the double shank, which I loved, but isn't worth a few grand.

So, unbeknownst to me, Dan's mom goes back and takes pictures of "the ring" and has it measured exactly. She then goes to a jewelry store down the street, that makes custom jewelry, and has it remade...only better. All of this is happening in Michigan at Dan's request from Chicago, while I'm totally oblivious...until he TELLS ME. I think he was so excited that I was going to get my ring that he couldn't keep it a secret.

And in my joy, instead of saying, "Thank you. You're the best and sweetest boyfriend ever." I started giving design directions. "Make sure it stands up enough that I can wear a band with it!" The other one didn't and we would have had to have a band specially made, which is a) annoying and b) then it's a weird shape and you can't wear it alone. You always have to wear it with your ring.

So even longer story shorter. We're in Costa Rica with Dan's family (mom, dad, sister, brother, brother's girlfriend). Dan's parents have brought the ring with them and Dan hasn't even seen it yet because it was finished 2 days before they got on a plane. Because all of this happened in the span of a less than 2 months, I thought there was NO CHANCE that he would propose in Costa Rica. No one could have a ring made in that short amount of time! Plus everyone was saying, "I bet he proposes!" So, then I also thought he wouldn't just to prove people wrong. He's very stubborn.

But, ladies and gentleman, he proved me wrong and all of you right and proposed, at the tide pools, in Costa Rica, under the ruse, "Let's find the perfect rock to remember the trip by!" (even though it was only Day 2!) with a beautiful ring that sparkled way more than the pawn shop ring and was just "me." A little vintage, a little modern and totally awesome! AND, not only did it have the double shank, the designer added an extra diamond to each side and made it stand up (He DOES listen sometimes!) So I now have my vintage 50's ring, but no one's ever worn it except me and that's exactly how I hoped it would be. :)

Aaaaand, here's the ring. It's hard to see all the detail until you're up close. For a bigger picture, and to see pics of our Costa Rica trip, check out my flickr.

WOOO! Let the wedding planning begin. <---Don't let this sentence fool you. I've been stockpiling ideas for our wedding for almost a year! ;)

The good, the bling, and the ugly

2011-02-07T11:41:00.000-08:00

So, Dan and I have had a debate going. I mean, it’s more like I’m having an internal debate because Dan’s already made up his mind, but I still think I’m right. So I’m coming to you, dear readers, to get your opinion on this matter.

We’ve been talking lately about marriage and babies, etc…one a little more than others of course. And talk got serious when we went to visit Dan’s friend and his cousin, both of whom just had babies with their wives, 10 weeks and 12 weeks ago respectively. *I honestly don’t even know what “respectively” means at the end of a sentence but it seems appropriate here.

So anyway, our talk: I casually (and soberly, can you believe it?) asked Dan if he had thought about marriage and babies, etc...and he replied, “Yeah. OF COURSE.” like I had just asked him if he was a guy and he liked meat. I actually felt my face turn red for asking such a no-brainer question, until I remembered that I’m not a mind reader and him thinking about it is NOT the same as us discussing it!

So then I got worried. Not because I don’t want to do all of those things with Dan. I’m only worried about one thing—THE RING. Dan and I have…how should I put it nicely? Different tastes. As in, he wears combat boots, and not the cute, I-look-like-a-chimney-sweep kind of boots. His are chunky doc martins. And if you see him wearing a shirt that he didn’t own in high school, I probably picked it out.

So when I mentioned that if he’s thought about it, he probably realizes that most women get to pick out their ring, or at least help, and he said, “Absolutely not,” I died just a little inside.

Because here’s the thing. Dan is very particular about EVERYTHING. If he’s making a big purchase, or even a little one, he’ll research it for days on end and read product reviews until he’s sure he’s found the perfect one. He’s not an impulse buyer. So I know whatever he gets, is going to be high quality and he’ll get it for a steal. But is it going to be something I’ll want to wear for the rest of my life? THAT is the question.

Maybe I’m being too much of a control freak, but if I have to look at it every day, and wear it for the next 70 years (and yes, I’m going to live until 96 because any older would just be too old), then I want the ring to be a timeless beauty that fits my style, and I want it to feel comfortable on my hand, and I want to love it.

And you can bet your bottom dollar that if I was picking out something that Dan would have to live with forever, he’d want to be right there giving his input. I mean, I bought him a really nice wallet for Christmas two years ago, and he refuses to use it, even though it would make me super happy, because it's a tri-fold, which apparently sticks out too far when you put it in your pocket. Who knew?! Instead, he’s using one that’s been on its last leg for the past 5 years. Does that sound like a guy who would let ME pick out HIS engagement ring if the tables were turned?

So that’s the dilemma. What do you guys think? If you’re engaged/married, did you get to help pick out your own ring or at least have some input? Am I a horrible person for not thinking, “Oh, I’ll love it just because it came from the heart?” I'm afraid I just won't have those feelings unless it came from my heart too. It's not like I had an ugly baby and I HAVE to love it. It's a piece of jewelry that's going to represent our union, so it should be a joint effort picking it out, riiiiiight? I've got about 12 more arguments for the pro Leah side, but none of them have worked on Dan.

Most of the women I’ve asked say that they helped pick it out or at least had some input. All the men (including Dan) say the proposal loses the element of surprise if you know it’s coming. But I disagree. I don’t want to know when or how he’s going to propose, I just don’t want to be blindsided by ugly bling.

I mean HAVE YOU SEEN Jessica Simpson's ring? I'm just trying to avoid a disaster like THIS ONE.

That was way harsh LLG

2010-12-10T09:05:00.000-08:00

Oh lawdy lawd, have I been behind on blogging. I have so much to catch you guys up on!

Like for one, a friend got married for a second time, two more had babies, another found out she's pregnant, and I well…I bought some cute shoes (like probably 5-7 pairs since my last post), worked long hours, and, like I do every time I split a seam on a dress I used to be able to wear seamlessly, I started a “lifestyle change” where basically, I try not to eat a bunch of crap and instead of wishing I had the energy to go to the gym, I actually force myself to go.

Turns out that’s a lot harder than I thought and it’s way more cost effective to eat free food at work, even if it’s pizza, and more fun to play Wii Fit Plus with your roommates than to actually leave the house in the bitter cold and hoof it to the gym. It's too bad both of these things are much less effective in actually dropping any weight!

Anyway, this post isn’t really about how all my friends are making me feel like I’m behind on life or how the word “muffin top” is beginning to take on a terrifying meaning. This post is ACTUALLY about how my blackberry has been ruining my love life for the past 2+ years—unbeknownst to me.

“That’s ridiculous!” you may be shouting at the screen. But if you’re like me, and weird stuff happens to you all the time, my upcoming story won’t be that much of a surprise to you.

STORY:

So, I’m in the T-mobile store giving the svelte MyTouch 4G back in exchange for a phone that actually works and there’s a little Latina girl, who we'll call LLG for the rest of this post, sitting to my right and checking out some touch phones. We’re doing that side-listening thing where you act like you're not really paying attention, but both of you know you're each totally as engulfed in the other’s conversation with her sales guy as you are your own. So then I start my old lady complaining about how every email I sent was full of typos because the touch screen was too small, and that my phone died before 5pm every day, and how I just needed a phone that was reliable and if it was pretty and white, like the MyTouch I was giving back, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, etc, etc, etc…

I stop complaining while he’s showing me the new features on my blackberry that my old one didn’t have, and little Latina girl gets up to leave, but not before saying to her sales guy, “I would NEVER buy a blackberry.”

SALES GUY: Why's that?

LLG: I never want to be that type of woman.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to act like I’m not listening even though this is obviously directed at me.

SALES GUY: What kind of woman is that?

So I tell my sales guy to hold and say to the little Latina girl, “Whoa, I’m a blackberry girl and I’d LOVE to hear this.”

LLG: Looks straight at me, “Maybe you’re the exception, but all the women I know with blackberries aren’t married and have NEVER BEEN IN LOVE. All they do is work, and check their EMAILS (she seriously had an extra snotty tone of the word "emails") and wear their business suits.”

I know blogs are the perfect forum for exaggeration, but I swear I’m quoting her directly.

LLG: Then she twisted the knife with “I never want to be one of those women.”

ME: I’m in love and I have a blackberry!

LLG: Did you get it before you fell in love? Or after?

ME: ……………………….After

LLG: EXACTLY.

And then, she left! And my sales guy, I guess trying to make me feel better, said, “I know lots of women with blackberries who are married.”

Moral of this story? Beware ladies, because according to LLG, the type of phone you have can totally make or break whether you find a husband.

And for the record, I don’t have a husband yet, but I also don't own a business suit, so I think those two things cancel each other out.

Story of my life

2010-09-20T16:13:00.000-07:00

So a few months ago we had a company in for a show and tell, which is basically just an hour long session where we see what they can do and get to try out their product in case we want to use it for future campaigns. The company does picture marketing, which means you can hire them to take pictures for your big PR event, which can then be used to market your brand. A simple yet smart concept. But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about me getting the shaft. LIKE USUAL.

We had our pictures taken at the show and tell and were given a card so we could look at the pictures online later and play with them, putting our faces on different bodies, distorting the colors, etc...Silly, but a nice time-waster and a good way to get us to use the product.

Well, I figured we probably wouldn't hear from this company again unless we decided to use them in a campaign. Turns out, I was wrong.

A few weeks after their presentation, my coworkers and I started getting mail from them! I love mail, especially since I never get any at work.

Here's what two of my coworkers got.

One is a sexy detective and one is an astronaut fighting a marketing battle...in space! I didn't take pictures of them all, but another coworker was a cowboy with a horse. A HORSE! I was so excited to get mine in the mail. "What would these people, who only met me for one hour, choose for me?" I asked myself.

Know what I GOT?
SNOGGLES THE MARKETING DOG.

Was my picture so bad it couldn't be placed on the body of ballerina? Hell, I'd settle for a river dancer. Not only am I not the main character in my own story, I'm a dog trainer who looks like a cross between Little Orphan Annie and "It's Pat" from SNL. Am I supposed to be male or female in this picture? Who knows! Even I don't.

And just so you can see I'm not exaggerating, here's a close up.

What about you? Is your luck as bad as mine? It can't be.

Dead Fat Guy Chair

2010-08-16T17:45:00.000-07:00

This is an actual conversation that went on between myself, Dan, Dominic (current roommate) and Dianna (soon-to-be roommate).

I have the following items to contribute to the apartment, let me know what I can bring or what I will bring back to store in WI.

pots- 3 qt, 1.5 qt, shallow 14in, all with lids

pans- 8in square, 13x9, 15x 10 cookie sheet, pizza sheet.

plastic serving bowls

tons of wooden spoons, spatulas etc

oven mits,

small electric chopper

hand mixer

measuring cups

strainers

floor lamp with matching table lamp

two end tables

dead fat guy chair

dirt devil vacuum

broom, dust pan

garbage can with lid

(Obviously one thing on this list worried me...)

ME: What's a dead fat guy chair?

DIANNA: Just my big chair, I got it when my brother in law's dad died. He was like 500 lbs. Don't worry he didn't die in the chair...

ME: OMG!!

DAN: Haha, awesome.

DOMINIC: I don't know if I want a chair in the house that's definitely haunted by a 500 lb man. Kidding. That chair rocks. Haunted or not.

We are going to have a lot of fun together. I can tell.

wishin' and hopin' and browsin' and buyin' (online) a.k.a my birthday wish list

2010-08-06T21:06:00.000-07:00

My birthday is coming up in a few weeks! And since I've reached the age where it's no longer appropriate to write out 10-page long birthday lists, I'm just going to make my list here. Because it's my blog and what else am I going to use it for?

FOR MY BED: Loveletter sheets from Anthropologie
I haven't decided yet if I want the loveletter sheets, or just the pillowcases with some bold sheets and this blanket. But the idea of having something on my bed with love written all over it just seems comforting, creepy and a little bit perfect all at the same time.

FOR MY BODY: A pocket watch--for my neck
I really like this one, too. I've been wanting a watch for awhile, but my wrists are the size of a baby's, so I either have to buy a child's watch or get one sized. HASSLE! How about a one size fits all necklace instead?

FOR MY FEET: Jeffrey Campbell heels from Lulu
You didn't think I'd make a list without shoes in it, did you? These are amazing. I probably couldn't walk in them, but I'd sure as hell try!

FOR MY MONEY--Spanish Rose Wallet from Lulu
No explanation needed!

FOR MY BRAIN: "Lit" a memoir by Mary Karr
Mary Karr is one of my favorite authors. Cherry? Liar's Club? Come on! From the sounds of it, this one will be another added to my favorites list. Plus, I love a good memoir filled with alcoholism and self-loathing. Doesn't everyone?

Happy Birthday to me!

The small tribe of kids that broke me

2010-07-18T17:50:00.000-07:00

I learned something this weekend about myself and my living situation. I am in no way ready for kids. And not only am I not ready for kids, my apartment is the least kid-friendly apartment in all of Chicago.

Case in point. I was hanging out with a friend and her fiance this weekend. I've been dying to meet her kids who are 7 and almost 4, because I always hear hilarious stories about them and they're just so damn cute! Well, when my friend's mom showed up with the kids, I got a huge surprise in the form of not just two, but FOUR kids. Double the trouble, double the fun...right? In my apartment, staring up at me, were my friend's son and daughter, her fiance's daughter, and her sister's daughter, ranging in age from 3 to 7. That's a lot of little kids in my city apartment that looked like we been boozing all weekend--um, because we were. There were bottles and discarded shoes everywhere. Not to mention the half drunk wine glasses littering the kitchen and living room.

As soon as they arrived, we decided to go get lunch. And after a semi-hellish trip to Wendy's complete with fighting over the microphone toys in the kids meals that magnified anything the kids said into it by 1000 decibels, we decided to go to the free pool across the street from my house and let the kids wear themselves out while we chatted. Oh how naive I am, thinking we could chat while four kids were running around splashing us, falling down and skinning their knees, fighting with each other, sitting directly on you because they were cold, and asking "why?" every two seconds. I know this sounds selfish and any mom reading this would be like, "Duh, what did you think would happen when you take FOUR kids to a public pool?" I had NO IDEA. I don't think I ever babysat more than three kids at a time, and no one ever let me take their kids to a pool by myself when I was 13. Probably a great decision on their part.

We go back to the house after the pool and we're all tired and I'm probably just ask cranky as the kids because my hangover headache has moved from the back of my head to directly over my left eye, and the littlest girl asks me for some "regular white milk." So I'm standing there trying to figure out how to tell a four year old that I only have lactose free milk, which tastes like skim milk, or I have soy milk, when all I really want to do is take two advil and lay down for a nap. So I say, "Well, milk hurts my tummy so I don't really have any regular white milk in the house." She didn't understand how that could be possible and replied with, "But my mom gives it to me all the time. It doesn't hurt MY tummy!" Well you just wait until you're 25 little girl. If it's not dairy, you'll probably develop an allergy to something else you love! And no, I didn't say that to her.

Then the other little girl asks me for water. YES! This, I have and in huge supply. What I didn't have was a plastic cup. They had all been dirtied the night before when we drank beergaritas. If you've never had them, you're missing out! They're delicious and super easy. Just beer--vodka--and pink lemonade. So I dig through the cupboards and behind all of the glasses and coffee mugs, I find a red plastic cup with a handle...the perfect kid size cup, except that it says Budweiser on it. I didn't even know we had that cup, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Oh, and then there was my almost panic attack. We came back from Wendy's with a cup of water that "milk girl" wanted when we were there. We're all sitting on the couch and kids are keeping busy with the two toys we have in the house, a transformer car and a little mermaid doll that Dan and I got as gag gifts two Christmases ago, and my friend shows her mom my print ad in People Magazine. It's my first one and I'm excited about it, so I bought the magazine to read, yes, but also as a keepsake since it's my FIRST AD IN A NATIONAL MAGAZINE! Anyway, her mom lays the magazine down on the table with it open to my ad, and "milk girl" puts her cup on it, like it's a coaster! OMGOMGOMG. That magazine isn't on the shelf anymore. I can't just buy another one! So I bolted across the living room and removed the sweating cup from my ad. And then died a little inside when I realized that yes there was water on it. But only a little. Hopefully it will dry and look normal.

Today didn't deter me from wanting kids, it only made we want to wait a little longer, and to maybe rethink wanting four of them. Maybe two is more my speed.

I'll still probably look at pictures posted by my high school friends or fellow bloggers of their adorable babies and think, "Awww. I want one!" But I did realize today that I'm not ready to give up Saturdays laying out at the park and sweating out the booze from the night before. Or Sunday brunches where hair of the dog not only applies, it's a Godsend. I do have one small request to my friends who are moms. Could you post a couple of pictures of your kids throwing a fit on Facebook? Cause it would really help me and a lot of other girls have a few less freak outs during "Say Yes to the Dress" marathons when we realize that we're not married, or anywhere near having kids even though it seems like everyone else in the universe IS!

Thanks, me and my fellow childless friends appreciate it.

Traumatized by Lunch

2010-06-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

I LOVE LUNCHABLES. There. I said it. I always have and always will. Especially the pizza lunchables. It’s the perfect amount of food to fill me up, and they’re ultra-convenient and cheap! You can’t get a lunch that includes food, a drink and dessert, anywhere in the city! And let’s talk about that dessert. There’s always a bite-sized airhead or butterfinger in there to satisfy my sweet tooth, which I barely have in the first place anyway, and sometimes I save it for later just to stop myself from making a quick trip to the vending machine mid-day.

I came home from the grocery store a few days ago with a pepperoni pizza lunchable, and I professed my excitement to eat it for lunch the next day, when Dan said, “You realize why you love lunchables, don’t you?” And I told him all the same stuff I just told you above to which he replied, “No. It’s because of your OCD.”

My OCD, you ask?

Well…I sort of have this thing with food. I don’t know how to describe it. But let’s put it this way, if I’m eating dinner and I have broccoli, chicken, and mashed potatoes on the plate, I’ll eat my whole dinner in a way so that the last bite has the perfect amount of each. I call it “The perfect bite.” When I’m able to accomplish this, I get really happy. When I fail and my bites are off, leaving with me one broccoli, a piece of chicken and no mashed potatoes, I don’t even want to finish my meal (which is usually okay since by that point I’ve eaten most of it anyway). It’s the ONLY thing I’m OCD about.

OCD runs in my family, meaning most of the women are paranoid about Comcast workers stealing stuff or they’re clean freaks, but I am not (which you would know if you ever saw my apartment). My only OCD, I SWEAR, is with food. It’s weird, but it’s harmless and it doesn’t affect anyone else but me, so I haven’t tried to do anything about it and I probably won’t anytime soon.

So back to Dan trying to diagnose me. He continues to point out that lunchables are perfectly measured; one piece of turkey, one piece of cheese, and one cracker per bite. Or 3 pieces of pepperoni per mini-pizza, of which you can take three bites and get one piece of pepperoni in each bite. It makes sense, but I never notice that when I’m eating my lunchables, or I didn’t until yesterday.

I’m chewing along merrily, thoroughly enjoying my pepperoni pizza lunchable and watching a video of a deaf baby hearing for the first time. I’m two pizzas in, and about to make my third pizza, when I realize there are four pepperonis left. FOUR. They gave me an extra. Now, anyone in their right mind would be ecstatic! Extra pepperoni! Woooo! Not me. I panicked not knowing what to do. Do I eat the pizza with four pepperonis on it, forgoing my one pepperoni per bite that I love so much? Or do I just eat the extra pepperoni, or throw it away and pretend like it never happened?

I chose the latter. I ate the extra pepperoni, pretended it never existed, and made my last mini pizza the way I was planning to in the first place. With three pepperonis; one per perfect bite.

I've been DUPED

2010-05-31T18:47:00.001-07:00

This weekend Dan and I went to Michigan to hang out with his family and spend some time away from the city. It was relaxing. I ate like a queen, slept in a ginormous bed with sheets that felt like silk but were actually just a super high thread count cotton, and drank vodka distilled from grapes that grow in Dan's hometown. Are you smiling at my weekend so far? Because I am.

We left Michigan on Sunday to drive to my tiny hometown 1.5 hours south of Chicago for one cousin's grad party which also doubled as a birthday party for another cousin. My grandparents were going to be there, so we had to go since I only see them about two times a year and they are a RIOT. My grandpa is a real live cowboy and there aren't that many of them left, so to hear him tell stories and see him in his always pristine cowboy hat and boots is fantastic. My grandma on the other hand has started eating gluten free and thinks that everyone else has a gluten problem and should do the same. She's also the nicest lady I've ever met and makes you feel like you just won the national spelling bee every time you say something.

My grandma: I heard you have an ad coming out?
Me: Yeah it will be in a few women's magazines this summer. I'll send it to you when it's out.
My grandma: Oh you're so smart! I always knew you'd be famous!

Famous? Not quite...but I'll take the confidence booster grams.

What does this have to do with me being duped? Nothing and everything. You see, since Dan was doing all the driving so that we could both cram our family time into one long weekend, I offered to fill up his tank. Not his LOVE TANK, as Vicki from the Real Housewives of O.C. calls it, just his regular old gas tank. It cost me around $55, which is actually way more than it would have cost me to fill up his love tank, but I'm one of those, "money can buy you love" people. (I'm kidding)

On the way back from Michigan, we stopped at Meijer, which, if you've never been to one, is like Wal-Mart, minus the bad press, plus the brand names. It's like a Super Target, but family-owned and a little less fashionable, although I did get some Asics running shoes there once. Besides running shoes, and the occasional Michigan State t-shirt, they also sell video games. Dan decided to buy a new one called "Red Dead Redemption." It's basically a "run around and shoot things" game, but you're a cowboy. I already knew about the game and actually almost bought it for him for our anniversary, but didn't because I'd have to pre-order and blah blah too much work.

Flash forward to today. Dan is getting ready to pop in his new video game and I'm just chilling on the couch, deciding what I'll wear for our friends bbq, when, out of nowhere Dan says, "Why don't we say that YOU bought me the game and that I bought myself the gas?"

Me: What? Why?
Dan: Because you were going to buy it for me anyway. And it was actually $5 more than the gas, so it's like you spent $5 more on me!
Me: Um...okay
Dan: Plus this is something fun, and gas is just gas. I would have bought that for myself anyway.
Me: Okay! I bought you the game, and you bought the gas.

I thought it was weird for him to bring that up, but it sounded like a good deal, and I never pass up the opportunity to look like the best girlfriend ever, so I took it.

It wasn't until FOURS HOURS LATER that I figured out what Dan knew all along; If I bought him the game, I can't justify yelling at him for spending all of his time playing it. And that's when I realized that Dan played me, and he's a lot better at it than he is at the game I BOUGHT HIM.

Famous Last Words

2010-05-17T14:17:00.001-07:00

So last week, Dan (the boyfriend), had a birthday. Not to brag or anything, but I LIVE to throw parties and I’m usually pretty good at it. Instead of a huge birthday party, I planned a fun night for Dan and I at the Hard Rock Hotel (you get to rent $4000 Gibson guitars for free is you stay there!) and Roy’s Japanese/Hawaiian fusion restaurant, complete with a bbq with our awesome group of friends the next day. Friday went as planned and I was gloating in the awesomeness of my surprise for Dan and was nothing but excited for the bbq…until the ENTIRE rugby team showed up.

This is how “The day I almost called every single of one of dan’s teammates’ mothers to tell them how retarded their sons are” went. I was doing some last minute shopping for Vegas (OMG SEE YOU IN 3 DAYS BLOGGERS!!), and as I was walking down the alley to our apt, I heard a party going on. I thought to myself, “That’s weird. It’s only 6 pm. The party doesn’t even start for another 2 or 3 hours.” Must not be from US.

I opened the door to the patio to see a group of rugby girls, who looked like they would eat your small child, standing on our porch while Dan grilled hot dogs. Turns out they were nice and probably WOULDN’T eat your puppy. It was the rugby men who showed up later that I had to worry about.

Let’s break the night down by a somewhat inaccurate timeline (I mean, who can really keep track of stuff when they’re drinking and worried about someone getting a tooth knocked out anyway?)

6pm Rugby girls and a few not-so-drunk rugby guys show up.
6:15 I get home from shopping and am ready to show off my loot, but I figure these gals aren’t the right audience for my frilly beach cover-ups and Vegas dresses. Dan’s too busy entertaining to feign interest, so I put my finds upstairs to be neglected until my friends arrive.
6:17 Dan informs me that we might have a situation on our hands later since the entire rugby team was already at another party 3 apartments down the street from ours.
7-ish Here comes the team, along with a half-eaten cake shaped like a penis from the bachelorette party that was down the street. P.S. WHO WOULD INVITE RUGBY PLAYERS TO A BACHELORETTE PARTY??
7:30 Drinking games start
8:00 Most of my friends and Dan’s have arrived by now and have congregated in the living room. We all sit around for a while on the couches drinking, eating food that had been forgotten about on the grill, and awkwardly trying to avoid the FRAT PARTY that our BBQ has turned into.
8:30 I’ve had one too many vodka ginger ales. Dan introduces me to one of the only nice guys on his rugby team and I blurt out that he looks like a prince from a Disney movie. I then proceed to nickname his Prince Charming. (Because when I’m drunk I turn into a 5 yr old with about the same level of discretion)
9:00 Drunk guy passes out on our couch. His teammates decide to draw on him WITH SHARPIE and take pictures with their naked butts on his face. Did I mention most of these guys are late 20’s early 30’s?
9:15 Bodybuilder (girlfriend of one of the rugby players) does 20 pull-ups off of our doorframe with her FINGERTIPS. I will never be that fit, and frankly, I don’t want to be! Later on she does 5 one-handed pushups on each arm. I think even the tough guys were afraid of her.

ALL NIGHT: THE CHANTING. Sports chanting, or rather ANY chanting annoys the crap out of me. So imagine my feeling when sometime during the night, I realize that one chant, in particular, about the vaginas of your mothers and sisters is being sung on repeat and at the top of 10 guys’ lungs.

So many other things happened that night, like the guy yelling, “Who wants to sleep with me?!” and pulling out his penis, that I’d like to forget.

I would just like to point out that my BBQ would have been awesome, but Dan said, “It’s my party and I want a big one!” (Hence the famous last words title.) Well he got his wish, except by the end of the night, almost all of our actual friends left to go to bars and Dan and I had to stay there and babysit grown men. I had no idea rugby culture was so full of aggression and men who are hard up for some womanly affection (not surprised after meeting these guys).

I will leave you with this genius idea, which I don’t think the guys would agree with or want to hear. Leave the aggression out on the field and maybe you won’t have to have contests about who can sleep with the UGLIEST girls at away games. ← They do that. Dan told me!

My mixed up gene pool

2010-05-11T20:33:00.001-07:00

I will never be my mother for a lot of reasons, like:

I don't smoke

I (mostly) stay on track when I tell a story and don't veer off into 70 different stories.

For every 1 meal I cook that turns out to be amazing, I screw up 4 others that I try to bake. That's a terrible success rate, especially since I grew up with a parent and grandparent who cooked from scratch. I just don't have a sweet thumb. AT ALL.

For example, this weekend Dan and I went to visit my mom and brother in Baltimore to celebrate Mother's Day and Dan's birthday. While we were out there, I volunteered to bake Dan a cake for his birthday. I bought a Betty Crocker mix because Betty knows her stuff and never lets me down. Turns out, Betty and convection ovens don't mix well.

What's a convection oven? I'm not really sure, but my mom swears by hers and it's the same kind they use on Top Chef, so I figured if stressed out chefs can can cater to 150 people using convection ovens, SURELY I can make a BOXED Betty Crocker Red Velvet cake in one.

How wrong was I? 10 minutes into the 35 minute baking time, I started smelling smoke but brushed it off because the cake still had 25 minutes left on the timer to cook. 25!!

Seriously, I don't even want to talk about it. I'll just show you a picture of my failure, and then a picture of the strawberry rhubarb pie that my mom made in the same convection oven on the same day that turned out perfectly.

Which one would you rather eat? I tried both, and guess which one I had to spit out? (Not the pie.)

In summary, even though I'm ecstatic that I didn't get my mother's wiry Italian mop (translation: frizz head that can barely be brushed), some baking skills would have been nice.

Cut a Rug(by)

2010-04-27T20:37:00.000-07:00

I'm a supportive girlfriend, mostly. But there's one thing that I'm having trouble getting behind and it's Dan's new found love for the sport of Rugby. I'm all for male bonding and sweaty, beefy guys in shorts with cute striped socks, especially the ones with accents. But why can't they just wear padding or a helmet? Who decided it was OKAY to invent a sport with all the dangers of football, yet none of the protection? Someone who didn't have an irrational girlfriend who worried over everything, THAT'S WHO!

This past weekend, I went to watch Dan play Rugby, and it's even worse seeing it in person than it is hearing about it later after he comes home with some horrific injury. In just a month, he's injured his knee to the point of not being able to walk for two weeks, and come home with a black eye and so many bruises I've lost count. Every time he leaves to go to a practice or a game, I don't stop feeling anxious until I get a call from him saying that he's heading home and he's fine.

It might sound like I'm being a worry wort but when you hear things like, "Can someone pop a finger back into place?" when you go to a game, and then you see a guy biting a towel as a "trainer" pops his finger back into place, it scars you a little.

I do have to give Dan credit because he like to try new things and he fully commits to them when he does. The first year we were dating he started playing hockey. Year 2 he started riding cyclocross (bike racing with obstacles to trip you up!) and year three...rugby.

I, on the other hand, have picked up countless "hobbies" that have died soon after, mostly musical -- guitar, mandolin, keyboard, violin (I'm just waiting to find the instrument that I'll pick up and magically know how to play...).

So while I'm glad my boyfriend is active, I do really hope the sport he picks up in our 4th year of dating is something closer to chess. I dream of the day when Dan goes to "away games" and comes back with stories about stand-up comedians dressed as Harry Potter instead of about how teammate so-and-so earned the nickname "Rabbit" because he brought a girl back to the hotel after a match and everyone could hear him having sex with her. I'll let you imagine what it sounded like if that's the nickname he earned.

P.S. If you want to come to any of Dan's games with me, so I have someone to support me while I'm being supportive, Chicago Riot plays on Saturdays at parks around Chicago, unless they have an away game, then they don't.

The time a spray tan almost killed me

2010-04-18T15:48:00.000-07:00

I've been on a health kick lately. I've been eating healthier. I went to the gym 7 out of the past 9 days. And I even started organizing my room (one of my New Year's resolutions) which is more for my mental health than anything else, but it still counts!

So anyway, my gym was offering free tanning, and even though I know that it's the opposite of healthy, I can't turn down anything free. My fondness for free shit is actually a problem. I'd probably say yes to a free pair of Crocs even though I think they're the ugliest shoes in the world and would never wear them. But hey, if they're free, I'll take them and FIND a use for them dammit!

Back to tanning. Included in the free week of tanning was a free spray tan. I was intrigued. I've never had a spray tan before and they're much less detrimental to your health than frying in a tanning bed. Or at least, I thought they were.

At my gym, spray tan doesn't actually mean a person is spraying you. Their spray tans are automatic, and supposedly pretty flawless. All you have to do to not screw up your tan is put lotion on your hands and feet so they don't turn orange, and make sure you turn around after the first 30 seconds. When they explained all of this, it sounded easy enough, so I went for it.

It wasn't until I was enclosed in a cold little black box (about 4 feet by 10 feet), with three spouts facing me about to spray God knows what all over my body, that my claustrophobia started to set in. I stupidly ignored my gut feeling, put on my shower cap, pushed the green button, and braced myself for the spraying to start.

As soon as the spray hit my body, I think I went into shock. It was freezing and I'm not going to lie...I peed a little. I couldn't stop it from happening. I felt like those pregnant ladies who pee every time they sneeze because a baby is sitting on their bladder, only my baby on the bladder was an ice cold spray tan. NOT COOL. (Don't worry though, the bottom of the floor is one big drain, which makes me think others have done the same thing...or worse!) After I got over the initial shock of the cold spray, I moved on to trying as hard as I could not to panic as the box started filling up with chemicals and vapor from the spray, sort of like a steam room fills up, only this "steam" tasted like hairspray and was impossible to breathe in. I kept telling myself, "Just 30 more seconds. You can't get out now otherwise only half of your body will be tan!" So I turned around and let it spray my back, even though I was near tears and gasping for air like a fish out of water.

The spray tan ended after what felt like an hour but was really only 1 minute and I almost cried from relief, until I realized that the vapor not only tasted bad, but it stung my eyes, too! I couldn't keep them open to find the door so I started spinning in circles with my hands on the walls groping until I found the handle. I think I might have uttered a "help me" during all of this, but if I did, the front desk girl didn't hear me and she certainly didn't come to my rescue.

I have this fear of dying while doing something really vain, like getting plastic surgery, or having a chemical peel, or getting Lasik surgery, or even having my teeth whitened; all things that are potentially dangerous and definitely unnecessary. Then, at my funeral, instead of people celebrating all the great things I've done in my life, or um, that I WILL do eventually, they'd only be able to talk about how I died and say things like, "Poor girl. If only she wasn't so insecure. Lots of people are A cups but at least they're STILL ALIVE."

Before I got out of the box, all I could think about was how EMBARRASSING it would be to die in a spray tan booth, or to even have to go to the hospital because I had a panic attack in the spray tan booth.

I finally found the handle and barreled out of the spray tan box of death only to look down at my legs and see that the tan had streaked from my "accident." So I did what any sane person would do, and started rubbing my streaked legs with my hands until they were as even as I could get them, which meant that they were now lighter than the rest of my body and my hands had turned bright orange.

After that, I patted myself dry with a towel, per the desk girl's instructions, and just sat on a chair in the tanning booth and had a moment of silence for my skin and my dignity.

Once I finally calmed down and put my clothes on, I texted my friend Dianna and she met me at Subway so I could tell her all about my near death experience and drown my sorrows in a diet coke, even though I don't drink pop, and a 6-inch veggie patty sub on wheat with extra black olives.

I can honestly say that was one of the worst experiences of my life. From now on I'm either white, or I'm baking my epidermis in real sunlight.

A little debt never hurt anyone...right?

2010-04-02T08:32:00.000-07:00

Basically, since I started a new job and have ALL THIS MONEY rolling in (which isn’t a magnanimous amount but when compared to NO MONEY feels like it is), I have the indescribable need to spend it!

Instead, I have this nagging voice in my ear saying, “Pay off your credit card debt. Be debt free. You’ll be so happy when you don’t owe anyone money, especially guys in suits who sit in giant offices and don’t give a shit about you.”

ME: “But…It’s like spending money on nothing! My money is going nowhere. I’m getting NOTHING IN RETURN.”

Nagging voice that gets a little naggier every time: “But that was never your money to begin with. Credit cards are NOT free money, and no matter how many times you stay up until 11:11pm to wish they were, it’s not going to happen.”

ME: But…I want to buy a new laptop! And a scooter! And, navy blue ballet flats! And a European vacation! And new work clothes! And pastel colored skinny jeans to wear this summer! And new books! And a new bookshelf to hold all my new books and the old books my current bookshelves can’t contain! And…a million other things besides NOTHING, which is what I’ll be able to afford if I pay off my debt.

Please tell me that being responsible and paying off my debt is the right thing to do, because right now all I’m feeling is selfish and sad that I won’t get to ride THIS around the city this summer.

P.S. I bet you can guess who the nagging responsible voice is. I'll give you a hint. His name starts with a D and ends with an.

Can I have your number?

2010-03-23T14:46:00.000-07:00

I’ll admit it. I’m a texting machine. I have unlimited text messages that I pay $15/month for and damn it, I’m going to get my money’s worth!

When I send a text, however, I sometimes forget that not EVERYONE likes to text as much as I do. And that not everyone has unlimited texting (cheap bastards), OR unlimited time to spend texting, and that even if they do have time to text, they may not WANT to.

Still…when I send a text and don’t get one back, it irks me. Mostly when I send one to my mom or to Dan, because usually those texts need an immediate answer. And sometimes they’re in return to a text I just got, so I know the person in question has a phone on him/her!

Like when I text my mom for an address while I’m AT the post office and get one back 5 HOURS LATER.

Or when I text Dan while I’m at the grocery store asking if he wants anything and he sends me one back after I’m already home that says, “Mac and cheese.” Sorry slowpoke, go get it yourself.

Yes, I could call. But a text won’t keep me on the phone for 20 minutes asking if I’m depressed or maybe turning into an alcoholic after reading my Facebook status that was just a song lyric, mom.

Usually my unanswered texts are followed up with a “Helllloooooo?” which will then sometimes work and provide me with an answer, or just get me back another “Hello.”

But one time? My gentle reminder to respond to my text didn’t yield the results I wanted. After waiting and waiting for a response, and checking my phone so much, I probably looked like I was trying to make a drug deal, Dan texted me back with one word. A word that all email marketers fear with every fiber of their being.

He said:

“UNSUBSCRIBE.”

So, since my boyfriend has unsubscribed from communicating with me digitally, and my mom will probably be next, can I have your number?

Heyyyyyy, Dan's in love with a working girl

2010-03-21T11:03:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official! Tuesday, I was offered the full-time position I've been working my butt off for the last month for. Assuming I pass my background check, (the stuff you do in junior high doesn't really go on your permanent record, does it?) Monday will be my first permanent day. Like many self-employed, when I started freelancing, I also stopped having insurance. This new job comes with paid vacation, sick days, more perks than I could have expected, and HEALTH INSURANCE! The best part is they're not making me wait three months until I have benefits. I only have to wait a week. I hope they don't mind the slew of appointments that I'll be attending in the next month to make sure I'm not dying, going blind, and that I don't have gingivitis, since I haven't been to anything that resembles a doctor or dentist in over a year!

P.S. Thanks to my mom for showing me the "Working Girl" video, or rather, posting it on Dan's Facebook wall when I first got the job. She knows all the best obscure 80's music.

What's in a (nick)name?

2010-03-12T18:36:00.000-08:00

I have this thing. It's not a thing, really. You can't touch it or taste it. It's a pet peeve. And here it is.

I HATE the word baby...unless you're actually talking about a live little ball of giggles, then I love it.

I hate the word baby so much, that at one point in my life, I wouldn't eat foods with the word baby in the title. Baby pickles, baby corn, baby spinach. You'd be surprised how many foods there are. I was probably borderline OCD, but I'm over it now, and would devour a whole jar of baby pickles if you put one in front of me today.

Now, my hate of the word baby is relegated only to people using baby as a name for anyone over the age of two.*

When I get into a new relationship, I always feel like such a feminist when the guy tries to call me baby right off the bat and I have to announce, "I'm not your baby. Do you feed me? Do you clothe me? Do I depend on you for everything? No?? Okay, then don't call me baby."

I don't know when this started. Maybe it was when this song came out, or maybe it was when I got my first real boyfriend in high school, who finally settled on calling me Honey after I threw a non-baby like fit over the pet name "baby." Not very much more original, but at least it means sweet and not someone that depends on someone else for survival.

The next boyfriend was a little more original. He called me Favorite, which I LOVED, until I found out that he called the girls after me Favorite, too. Guess that was a time sensitive pet name.

After him, I dated a guy who just didn't call me anything, because he barely called me. We won't spend any more time talking about him on this blog.

Then, I met Dan. DP., Danimal, Dan the Man, AladDan, etc...

Right off the bat, I knew he was a keeper when he gave all of my friends nicknames without even trying. The way Dan comes up with nicknames for people is effortless! He just has a way with the pun and I think that might be one of the reasons we get along so well. We both love a bad (you know I mean good) pun.

After a few months of dating Dan, all of my friends had awesome yet endearing nicknames like, Karona (Karina), Melontron (Melanie), and I started to get jealous!

I'm the one he was driving 5 hours to see every weekend. Why didn't I have one?! I wanted my own something that meant Leah, but wasn't Leah, that Dan made up. So...I requested one. Lame, I know. That's almost as bad as making up your own nickname, which I did in 8th grade by the way...if you're nice and read this whole really long post, I'll reveal it at the end.

Anyway, while eating an egg roll, I mistakenly brought up my non-existent pet name and said, "Where's mine?" And without skipping a beat, he termed me EGG ROLL.

...

Not what I was expecting.

3 years and one co-habitation later, TarzDan has given me a few more nicknames/pet names, one of which has kept evolving. They are:

Leon (Why anyone would want to call their girlfriend by a boy's name is beyond me, but this one stuck for over a year. Even our friends started calling me Leon)
Pogs (This is actually an insult because the g in my last name is silent, but everyone pronounces it wrong and ends up saying POG-LEE-AN-O instead of the correct pronunciation, Po-lee-ah-no.) Insult or not, this one had even more staying power than Leon and turned into Pogsy, Pogsy doo, Pogsy doodle, and the newest El Pogso.

I have to say, that although the last one makes me sound like a Lucha Libre, it's still better than being called baby, a.k.a. someone who can't even wipe their own ass.

Are there things that you just CAN'T STAND? Even if they're insane (like mine), spill 'em so I don't feel like such a weirdo!

P.S. The nickname I gave myself in 8th grade was TADPOLE. And yes, I realize the irony of calling myself a baby frog, but at the time I was the smallest of my friends and we all gave ourselves "things that swim in the water" names. We were DORKS.

*My other exception to the baby rule is this: If you're an elderly black woman, especially one who's my grandma's age or older, you can call me baby all you want.

How I survived my first happy hour

2010-02-28T21:19:00.000-08:00

Remember how I said I have to rock it at work for a whole month before I get hired permanently? Well, I had my first happy hour last week, which was also the company's birthday party. What does this have to do with my job security? Only EVERYTHING. I already failed the Jenga test, in which we played Jenga in hopes of beating their last record of 34 rows. I, of course, am the one who knocked it over at just 31 rows crushing their Jenga Olympics dreams. To be fair, no one else had anything on the line besides their dignity, whereas I was told, "This is part of your interview." I didn't even know my hands could sweat like that without being in mittens. PRESSURE!!

So back to the happy hour. After an inflatable pool rolled past my desk, I knew I would have to pace myself if I didn't want a repeat of the first work happy hour at my last job, in which I spilled a beer on a coworker, passed out on the blue line with a half-eaten quesadilla on my lap and woke up 5 train stops past the one I needed. Luckily, no one stole my quesadilla, or my purse, while I was taking my little nap.

I figured the pool would act as a cooler for the beer. Nope! It was a ball pit!! I'm not going to divulge too much detail about the happy hour, because I don't know how much my company wants floating around the internet about their inter-office antics, but I can tell you that I ate cupcakes, drank wine until my face was tingly, but not until I was tired enough to pass out on the train, and almost drove a rascal. But, since I'm a terrible driver sober and didn't want to crash their brand new office vehicle, I resisted! WILL POWER at its finest.

And now, this is the part of my blog where I pass on very valuable advice, to you, my blogging buddies.

VALUABLE ADVICE: If you think you can't control yourself around booze and other people, (and who would blame you if you can't?) just do what I did. LEAVE after only an hour and half, even if you don't want to. You'll thank yourself in the morning, especially when your coworkers are going through their receipts to piece the rest of the night together and you're not even hungover because you fell asleep so early, it's almost shameful. I mean, people might think you're 25 going on 70 if they found out just how early we're talking here. And remember this, there will be plenty of time for you and your new coworkers to black out together, but you'll be happy that it didn't happen in your first week of employment. At least I am.

My first 2 days on the job

2010-02-20T13:19:00.000-08:00

Did I tell you I got a job? You can take a moment to do a little jig if you want to. I just did.

ANYWAY, Thursday, I started my new copywriting job at an awesome agency in Chicago. It's temp to perm, which basically means I have a month to NOT screw up and to write my brains out so that they hire me full-time in March.

I gave up a position at another great company that entailed both social media and writing and two other interviews to accept a position that isn't a sure thing. That's just not me. I'm not a go with your gut girl, at least that's what every personality assessment I've ever taken has told me. I'm the girl that takes the time to write a pro con list and make the logical decision. That picks the full-time job with benefits even if she has a feeling that she'd be happier somewhere else, just because it's more secure. But, I fell in love with the agency, and the people that I met were so genuine and appreciative of one another, that I couldn't pass it up!

Also, once a month they have a themed happy hour. Last month it was Mad Men. This month, it's a Sweet Sixteen birthday party to celebrate their 16th year in business. Costumes? Booze? I was practically born to work there.

Adjusting to being in an office full-time wasn't that hard since I had freelanced in-house at a couple of agencies on the regular, but there was one thing I hadn't mastered on day one--the office layout. This office is HUGE, probably 50 times the size of my usual office (my livingroom) and even after two tours, I still had to ask if they had a supply closet.

I also may have lost the agency a free case of beer or two. On day one, a client came out of an all day meeting/celebration and unluckily for him, while looking for the bathroom, he stumbled upon me. Since it was my first day, I made sure to tell him so, and then I got cocky and decided I could probably help him find the bathroom anyway. I walked him over to the ladies room, thinking the male and female bathrooms would be by each other, but...they aren't.

We found someone to ask, and they pointed him in the right direction. I started following, and he turned around, gave me a weird look and said, "I think I can take it from here."

It's not like I was going to follow him IN and watch him pee or anything. I just wanted to make sure he made it okay!

Day 2 was not nearly as eventful because all of my cube-mates were in meetings most of the day and I hardly had anyone to talk to! I did, however, start writing my first project and I did my best to get in good with the people on my team...first, by showing off my Twizzler pen, then offering up some cheeze its and discussing my love for egg-based foods: quiche, frittata, souffle, etc... I'm not sure if any of my attempts at amazing were successful or if they just made me look weird. Either way, I SURVIVED two whole days and I can't wait to go back on Monday.

Why you SHOULD celebrate Valentine's Day

2010-02-11T19:15:00.001-08:00

I've seen so much negativity lately surrounding the impending "being single sucks" holiday known as Valentine's Day, and I'm sort of baffled by this, because even when I was single I loved Valentine's Day.

Yes, it's a made up holiday. And yes, sometimes you can feel alienated by...well...pretty much everyone with hearts in their eyes if you don't have a significant other to celebrate with, but I think that's bollocks. Here's WHY.

Even though Valentine's Day is a holiday invented to sell candy, cards, etc...and EVEN if you're not in a committed relationship, I bet you still have someone in your life who you could show a little extra love to. I bet you have someone in your life who is always there for you, and who would benefit from hearing how much you appreciate them.

When I was single, my other singletons and I would bake red and pink cupcakes together and pig out on them and just enjoy each other's company.

VDay circa 2007. For the record, we're not sad because we're single. We're sad because our cupcakes are deformed!

Even though I have a boyfriend now, I still send something to my mom, and buy or make little things for my friends, even if it's just a heart-shaped lollipop.

One can argue that you should show your loved ones EVERY DAY that you appreciate them, but sometimes it just doesn't happen. You drop your phone in the toilet, or gmail goes down, or you're hungover and not feeling cuddly that day. Lots of things can get in the way. And, sometimes you just forget to call your friends who you appreciate to no end but don't see every day, or give your dog a belly rub for being an unfailingly loving companion.

Valentine's day isn't an excuse to be sad and sit at home and eat ice cream by yourself. It's just another REASON to celebrate the ones you love--human or otherwise--and that's what I intend to do!

This ain't your grandma's bingo

2010-01-21T10:15:00.000-08:00

Want to have a fun, albeit slightly competitive night with friends? I have the perfect solution for you.

PLAY BINGO.

All of those images you see of old people falling asleep while they're in the activities center at the nursing home are wrong. Bingo can be so much more fun than that if you can stay up past 6pm, LOVE vodka, and have a dollar store in close proximity or you can drive to one.

Here's the recipe for an amazing bingo night.

1. Buy a cheap bingo game. Ours cost $20 from target. There are way cheaper versions, but we wanted the authentic looking one with the numbered balls, so we splurged.

2. Buy a big bottle of vodka (or alcohol of preference). We bought an economy size bottle of sweet tea vodka and mixed it with lemonade. If you want a quieter, nursing home type night without hair-pulling, yelling and religious slurs, skip the alcohol. Trust me.

3. Visit your local dollar store and pick out the most ridiculous stuff you can find, then lay it on a table grab bag style, so people can choose what they want when they win.

We bought a $1 pregnancy test (I got a negative, should I go to a REAL doctor?), a few wolf and bass fish paperweights, mugs that said, I <3 Michigan and I <3 Puerto Rico, a Care Bears felt coloring set, a Betty Boop keychain complete with a mirror, some ice cube trays, temporary animal themed tattoos (including a huge ram and some crabs), gummy insects, some "green" lightbulbs, a heart-shaped baking pan, and some other awesome stuff that I can't remember.

4. Tater Tots. This isn't a necessity, but towards the end of the game, one roommate decided to make tater tots and it turned out to be the BEST idea of the whole night. Just make sure you don't mistake them for bingo board pieces...you don't want greasy cards the next day.

Next week, I think we're going to try to spice up parcheesy. If you want to come over and play, let me know.

Attack of the GIANT Office Butt

2010-01-18T13:51:00.000-08:00

I'm freelancing on-site at another fun agency today. While coming up with puns relating to space, I realized one thing.

I'm allergic to desk chairs. Maybe not allergic, but I have a really strong aversion to them.

For one, they force you to sit up straight. At home, I sit on my couch with the laptop either on a cooling pad on my lap, or on the coffee table. It's a nice setup and probably really terrible for my already bad posture, but my body is used to it. When I work on-site at different agencies, which I love doing because it gets me out of the house and I get to meet other people in my field, I don't have a choice between kitchen chair, love seat, counter top, couch, floor, bed, toilet seat, and picnic table outside when it's nice. It's desk chair all the way.

Not to mention, desk chairs, plus continual snacking are the #1 leading cause of Office Butt.
Office Butt (n.): When you sit in a desk chair and your butt expands to fit the size of the base of the chair, this new chair sized shape is called "office butt."

You know how some snakes will grow as big as their cages will let them? Office Butt is JUST LIKE THAT.

I've only been here 7 hours and I can feel this happening already. To battle it, I'm going to trick my butt into thinking I'm at home by bringing in my couch cushion, or one of those blow up things that people with hemorrhoids sit on.

Think anyone will notice? If they do, I'm just going to say, "Hey man, this really expensive desk chair hurts my back and is definitely giving me office butt, but I'm willing to do what it takes to work here, because, you know what? I like you guys, and coming up with puns is fun, and NOT getting all cabin-fevery because I didn't leave the house in 2 days and didn't even notice is even better." After which, they'll probably hire me full-time, or give me a bonus, or at least a high-five. It all works out in the end.

That time I said something ridiculous in an interview and they gave me a second one anyway

2010-01-14T14:07:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, I had an interview at a top-notch agency. The kind that's been around since the start of advertising and creates award winning ad campaigns. Let's just say, Peggy from Mad Men would kill to work there. Okay, maybe she wouldn't kill, but she'd AT LEAST sleep with a couple of account managers to get her foot in the door.

Just like Peggy every time Don calls her into his office, I was nervous. Not only was the guy I interviewed with super high up in the company, but he also had GREAT HAIR. Better than mine, and I get compliments on my hair all the time. Or at least every time I visit my mom. His hair reminded me of my boyfriend's hair when we started dating--long, wavy, and perfectly styled without looking like he actually spent any time on it. Now, my boyfriend has businessman hair, but back when we started dating it was laid-back without being sloppy, hippie-ish without trying too hard. You get the picture.

So we're interviewing, and I'm talking and trying not to be mesmerized by his hair, and he's asking questions and I'm acing them, or at least in my head I am, and then he asks me something I'm not prepared for.

He said, "What's something that you've done, outside of your career, that was different than someone else may have done it?"

He obviously wanted to see if I could find creative solutions to problems. Well, guess what? I can!

I think I blinked about seven times before I blurted out, "My curling iron broke, and I taught myself how to curl my hair with my straightener, so I didn't have to buy a new curling iron!"

In one sentence I made myself sound a) mentally challenged and b) CHEAP. For the record, I am only ONE of these.

I immediately cringed afterward and gave another much better example, but nothing I said after that would erase what just came out of my mouth. I don't know if I thought he would appreciate that comment because he obviously cares about his hair, or maybe I thought he would think it was funny, or cute, or...who knows? Sometimes I just blurt out stupid stuff when I'm nervous or caught off guard.

It's true, though. I really did teach myself how to curl my hair with a straightener because I'm RESOURCEFUL (and cheap)!

How I started 2010 off with a mugging

2010-01-02T12:27:00.001-08:00

It's only day 2 of 2010 and I've already learned one huge thing about myself. When I say huge, I mean HUGE.

I would be absolutely useless in a mugging.

Last night, Dan and I were on our way home from seeing a late showing of Invictus, which was pretty good if you have any interest in Nelson Mandela, South African politics or a beefy, blonde Matt Damon. We were looking for a parking spot and someone had just taken the spot we wanted. I said something bratty like, "He probably doesn't even live here," without actually looking at the guy, because I didn't want to walk a long way in the cold.

We parked the car, started walking to the apartment, and the guy I just got done complaining about jumped out from behind a car and yelled, "Give me your money!"

What did I do in this situation? I screamed. Like a girl. Correction: I screamed like a girl who's been tied to the train tracks, with the light of a steel monster blinding her from off in the distance, its horn blaring her impending doom. Or, like a girl who got her period in a shark tank. Either way, I screamed. For about 10 full seconds. I was so scared that I forgot I had mace in my pocket, and a rape whistle in my purse. I even forgot all of those dreams in which I'm mugged and I somehow get away by karate chopping the guy in the throat, kicking him in the balls, or keying him in the face with my mailbox key. I forgot ALL of that in the shock of being mugged.

Then, I heard Dan start laughing and I looked at the guy who was "mugging" us. The mugger was actually my cousin Alex, who lives half a block from us.

After I calmed down, I got mad and said, "What if I maced you!! What if Dan pulled out his pocketknife and tried to stab you or punched you in the face?!"

Alex replied, "I thought about Dan maybe beating the shit out of me, but I risked it knowing how funny this would be."

After last night, I am now adding a new resolution to my list:

Be more aware of my surroundings, so that if I actually ever do get mugged, I don't just stand there and scream. I go for the balls.

Obligatory New Year's resolutions post

2009-12-31T11:19:00.001-08:00

Well, since every blogger in the world has posted about what they're going to do or not do in 2010, I might as well too. I hate being left out! It makes me feel like high school all over again when all of my friends had boobs and I still wore a training bra, in hopes that it would "train" my boobs to get bigger. It didn't. Anyway. Here is what I pledge to myself and others for 2010.

1. I'm either going to start using my gym membership or cancel it. Paying $69 a month to exercise (maybe) once a week is not worth the money, especially when I haven't had a full-time job since April.

2. I'm going to try to be nice to people all the time, and not just during Good Deed December, which I totally rocked at BY THE WAY.

3. I'm going to get a full-time job. I REPEAT. I'm going to get a full-time job. (I think I'm close to this. Job Week -- like Shark Week only with a marathon of interviews instead of shark shows -- has commenced. Now I'm just waiting for a company to realize that they CAN'T GO ON without me!)

4. I'm going to decorate and organize my room (and keep it clean!) so that it's a place where I can have fun or relax without worrying about the dust I'm inhaling while I sleep or the shoes I'm going to inevitably trip over as soon as I wake up and get out of bed blind because I slept with makeup on and it got in my eye. One of my favorite sites is Overstock.com and they have a huge selection of things that will help me accomplish this goal, including vacuum cleaners. HINT: They're 10% off if you use the coupon code 121728.

Does it mean I'm getting old if I'm excited about buying cleaning supplies? Either way, I want the cute little handheld one! (And maybe a pair of shoes to add to the pile...you know...as a treat for being so proactive!)

5. I'm going to get something published that is NOT on the internet, and is NOT marketing material. The children's book that I wrote and my friend Dianna is illustrating is going to be the first thing I send out. See a sneak peek here.

6. I'm going to completely pay off one credit card and keep putting money in savings. Paying off just one card will cut down about 2/3 of the debt that I have right now and that's an exciting prospect. This resolution highly hinges on #3 happening though...

7. I'm going to call my guido brother more and check up on him to make sure he's staying out of trouble and has someone to talk to should he need it. So much so, that he'll probably start screening my calls. WHATEVER little brother. You won't be able to avoid me forever!

Did you notice I said, I'M GOING TO instead of I'm going to TRY to? Last year I said try and I barely completed any of my resolutions. Saying I'm going to makes it seem a lot more like I HAVE TO otherwise you guys will call me out on the playground, like that time I told everyone, including my mom, that Pippi Longstocking was my neighbor and no one believed me.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

For Brandy and also because I'd want someone to do this for me

2009-12-29T10:45:00.000-08:00

Brandy, a fellow 20sb blogger, who I recently just started reading and can't believe I wasn't reading sooner, has asked the blogging community to post this in hopes that our energy and love will have a positive impact on the one she loves.

Please feel free to copy and post this on your own blog.

My name is brandy. And I have a blog.

And a plea.

I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds. Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog- as personal as the dude that I adore (who I actually met through my blog- single ladies, let that be a very good reason to blog, the possibility of meeting someone as wonderful as my man), but I need your help. And it involves my dude.

He's a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He's the kinda guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job. He's the guy who sent flowers to me at school- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He's a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred. He's made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He's listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.

The holidays have hit us hard. He's recently been told he may have something called multiple myeloma- an incurable cancer, that gives a person an average of five years of continued life. Though this news has came as a shock, he continues to be exactly who has always been- spending his time worrying about me, rather than worrying about himself. He's the most selfless individual I know- (he stayed late on Christmas Eve to work, so his co-workers could leave early) and a post like this would never be something that he would promote or encourage but when I'm overwhelmed and feeling helpless, the blogging community has always given me tremendous support and comfort, two things I desperately need at this time.

As I write this, the future is uncertain and we aren't sure what's happening. He'll need to see an oncologist soon, to verify what's going on in his body. My hope is that everyone who reads this think positive thoughts and if you are a person who prays, could you add him to your list? (You can refer to him as 'brandy's hot awesome dude'). If you don't pray, please keep him in your heart.This cancer is only a possibility and I believe that the prayers and positive thoughts of people can make sure it never becomes a reality.

I want to give a big thank you to the blog owner who scraped their original blog plans and graciously put this up. My goal is to get as many people as possible to see and read this post. If you are reading this and want to help, copy and paste my plea into your blog or send a link through twitter, so more people can keep him in their thoughts. I would be so very grateful (even more grateful than I am to my friend who first showed me the picture of Ryan Reynolds on the cover of Entertainment Weekly. If you haven't seen it, google it. You. Are. Welcome).

I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making- but this is life. Right now. And I'm throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you and if you know anything regarding MM- please email me (my email is on my blog). This isn't a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It's just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be with the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next. Maybe it is silly, but I really do believe that positive thoughts can make a huge difference. Thank you for reading this and if you haven't already? Please tell someone you love them today.

I did.

Anonymous blogging and my almost inability to do good deeds for a whole entire month

2009-12-28T13:56:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wish I had an anonymous blog, or at least one that my family didn't read so I could post some of the ridiculous stuff that happens to me. But alas, I've done that before and it only sounds the alarm in my family causing me to have to answer countless questions about my well-being.

So instead, I'm just going to almost finish up this Good Deed December project by listing everything I did that was nice in December so you can feel bad about yourself for not doing as many nice things as I did. Just kidding! I love you. More than I love my blue suede and black snakeskin steve madden heels. (Almost).

So here it is:

Good Deed December Update days 14-28th!

December 28th: Since Dan wasn't here to lend his muscles and my brother's back was conveniently hurting, I carried my mom's and brother's bags out to the cab for them. It's a small deed, but I could have just sat in the warm house instead.

December 27th: Dan's parents met my family for the first time. It's a big deal since we've been dating for 2.5 years. I made poor man's turtles (rolos, pecans, prezels) to bring to dinner and give to Dan's parents.

December 26th: We were at my aunt's house celebrating Christmas with the whole family, including my cousin's daughter Arianna, who's 5 and needs the spotlight on her, always. Another little kid, Johnny, who's 6, showed up, only to be completel shunned and ignored by Arianna. I wanted to let her know this wasn't okay, so I started playing Go Fish with him (right in front of her) hoping that she'd join. She did and started to get over her brattiness, until Johnny started winning. Every time he got a pair, you could see her eyes flare up with anger.

December 25th: This was Christmas. I did nothing but lay around all day and watch movies with the family. And eat. Boy, did we eat. A lot.

December 24th: This year, both my cousin and I got laid off. We have four aunts including our mothers, who have been more than wonderful during this hard year for us. In appreciation, we wrote them each a note and gave them special presents to say thanks for checking up on us to make sure we don't need anything, sending us job postings, and buying us stuff they know we need but won't ask for, etc...

December 23rd: I let Dan off the hook and did his part of the cleaning that he promised to do before my mom and brother flew in, including the downstairs bathroom that mostly gets used when we have parties and only gets cleaned once every few months. Gag!

December 22nd: I started going through my clothes and making donate, sell and keep piles. This is only the start of a good deed. It's going to take awhile...

December 21st: I had TWO Secret Santa fails this day that almost caused a meltdown. I received my Secret Santa letter from the SunTimes late (Wednesday the 16th to be exact) and the deadline for the gift to be received was THAT Friday (the 18th). Of course, I didn't have time to pick out a lego set and mail it in two days, so I thought I'd just drop it off at the school to ensure my kid still got his present. I called them as I was leaving to drop it off and the kids had already left for Christmas break, therefore, my secret santa kid had to open whatever extra gift they had just lying around. That broke my heart! What if he got something totally lame, like socks, when he could have gotten a 2-in-1 lego set that lets you build a helicopter OR a crazy jet fighter thing! Ugh.

Then I found out that the kids I was going to send presents to in foster care, aren't allowed to get presents from people who aren't family because of some foster care privacy thing. I don't even know the kids, but after hearing that their mom died and they were split up, I wanted to help. I hope they had a good Christmas anyway. :|

Since I was powerless in both situations, I decided to mail the lego set to the school anyway, so they'd have it for some other 8 yr old boy next year in case his Secret Santa is a big failure, too!

December 20th: I wrote a letter to my one of my brothers who's in Marine boot camp right now and mailed it so he would, hopefully, get it before Christmas. I wanted to send a gift but he said he'd get harassed if I did. <--- Military is ridiculous! P.S. If I was a mean sister I'd send him something girly, like one of these gift baskets, but since I want him to come home in one piece, I guess all he gets is a letter. BORING!

December 19th: I went shopping for last minute Christmas presents with my friend Dianna. In the line for Old Navy, the cashier rang up my merchandise wrong and had to redo it...twice. I didn't complain and instead smiled and said, "No problem!" as she apologized profusely. In return, JUST FOR NOT BEING A BITCH, she gave me a $5 gift card.

December 18th: I carried a God Damn spicy cheese quesadilla from Burrito Beach around in my purse for almost a whole day hoping I'd find a homeless person to give it to. Surprisingly, I didnt. Instead, it ended up as drunk food for my boyfriend and friend later that night.

December 17th: I got really mad at Dan this day, because he was pushing me to take on more than I thought I could handle, especially around the holidays, and instead of chewing his face off, I had a normal discussion with him. I said I want to enjoy the work I do and if I'm taking on more than is phsyically possible for one person, I'm not going to. He acknowledged he might be a hard partner to have sometimes and we got over it. I'm not going to lie, I took pleasure in hearing him admit that. On the other hand, it's nice to be with somebody who thinks that I'm capable of a lot even if, on bad days, I don't feel the same way.

December 16th: I passed a lady who had a map in her hand and sweat on her forehead. She was obviously lost and instead of just walking past, I stopped and asked if she needed directions. I'm about the last person in the world who should help someone with directions, but it turned out she was only a block from where she needed to be, so I pointed her in the right direction, gave her a smack on the butt, and sent her on the way. Okay, I'm lying about the butt-smacking thing. I would never hit a stranger!

December 15th: I left my house in 7 degree weather to meet with Caleb, founder of Save the Cups, to offer my copywriting services to the project. I have now signed on to help with all of their communications sans pay because a) I like that it's a socially responsible way to use social media, and b) Caleb is one of my first Twitter friends. You never forget your first (Twitter friends).

December 14th: I sent more jobs I found online to friends who are looking, including one I was going to apply for, but for which a friend was more suited.

3 more days and I get to be selfish! Mwaahahaha!

If you're participating in the challenge and have been blogging about it, drop a link in the comments section.

Practice Random Kindness: Good Deed December Update #3

2009-12-13T13:27:00.000-08:00

I'm not a religious person. I don't go to church. I don't even really think I'm that spiritual, except for the fact that I 100% believe in Karma, or getting back the energy that you put out. However, I do think that if you're going to practice something, religious, spiritual, or otherwise, it should be this:

So here's what I've done for others the past few days as I make my way through Good Deed December.

December 13th: When I purchased something on Overstock.com today, they gave me the option to add an extra dollar to my order which would go towards Wounded War Heroes. One of my brothers is currently in boot camp training to be a Marine. I clicked YES.

December 12th: I donated $10 to 826Chi's literacy and reading program. You should too. The program is totally free and it helps tons of underprivileged kids develop better reading and writing skills, plus the people who run the program are super smart and FUN!

December 11th: I can't remember what I did on this day, but I know I did something! To make up for it, I'll tell you two things I did on December 1oth!

December 10th: 1) This was the day it was 7 freaking degrees outside! I took a cab home from my interview and I was so grateful to get home and out of the cold that I tipped the cabbie $4 on an $8 cab ride, instead of my standard $2.

2)After eating lunch in Ogilvy station, I had almost a whole carton of fruit left. Instead of throwing it away, I left it in plain view on top of the tray holder above the garbage for some of the homeless people, who were roaming the station and digging through trash, to eat. I don't know if anyone found it, but I like to think they did.

Have you done anything nice lately, either in the spirit of the holidays, or just because?

I'd also like to thank JamieLovely for doing a good deed for me last night. After the Chicagonista party, she dropped me off at my bus stop so I wouldn't have to walk in the cold/rain in my heels. It's the little things that count, and not getting blisters and freezing my butt off counts a lot to me! Thanks Jamie. :)

Payback shouldn't be a bitch!

2009-12-09T09:07:00.000-08:00

Where's all the good karma that's supposed to be coming my way from doing all these nice things? Granted, I didn't start Good Deed December so that a bunch of good things would happen to me, but isn't that just supposed to be a side effect?

Last night I went to an SMC Chicago networking event with one of my friends. It was snowy and miserable out and we both braved the slush in our impractical shoes, all for the name of social media. Over 150 people were at this event, and out of the probably 30 or so that I actually got to talk to, NO ONE told me I had mascara smeared on my face! Why does it make people so uncomfortable to tell someone, "Hey, I think the snow might have smeared your makeup."?

I have a suggestion to help people get over the fear of telling others when they have gunk on their face or in their teeth, or when their shirt is inside out, etc... Just remember how uncomfortable it feels to watch a sex scene in a movie with your parents, and telling someone that they have an eye goober will feel like a cake walk!

I always tell people when they have snot hanging out of a nostril or a tag sticking out. Yeah, it's not a pretty thing to do. But isn't it worse to have to stare at it while you talk to them?

I even went to this networking event with a really good friend and SHE didn't tell me because, in her words, "It looked like a beauty mark."

No it didn't. It just looked like mascara and I looked like a mess.

Then, when I got home from the networking event, I found that it was raining in my room, right above my door and my desk. What I mean is, the snow that was on the roof had started to melt, and apparently there is a leak in the roof right above my room.

All I have to say about last night, besides what I've already said, is that WINTER CAN SUCK IT!! If I have to check a mirror every time I get somewhere after being out in the snow/slush/rain, and if I have to keep a water-catching bucket in my room where my desk should be, it's going to be a long, annoying winter.

Aaaand, now that I'm done complaining, here's my Good Deed Update for days 5-9.

December 5: I let my boyfriend play video games ALL DAY and didn't complain until the next day when he tried to do it again. Sounds like a stretch, I know, but when I say all day, I mean aaaaaall day. As in, he emerged from his man cave around 10:00 pm with his eye glazed over, a beer in his hand, and his hair greasy and unshowered. Ew.

December 6: While looking for jobs, I found some on Craigslist and Career Builder that I thought would be good fits for my friends who are looking, and I passed them on to three of them.

December 7: I helped a friend (the one who DIDN'T tell me I had makeup smeared on my face!) with her resume and cover letter.

December 8: Another friend and I spent 8 hours making homemade cookies and candy to give to people for Christmas. The results were: poorly decorated Christmas cookies, poor man's turtles, some other candy with an m & m stuck to the top, and homemade caramel. I haven't given them out yet, but I'm still counting it as a good deed because we seriously baked from 1 - 10 pm, with only about an hour break for some Wii Fit Plus exercise and Thai food.

December 9: I printed out my friend's ticket for the networking event mentioned above because her printer doesn't work and the tickets said you had to print them and present them at the door. Turns out, the tickets were liars, but we had them anyway.

Good Deed December Update

2009-12-05T14:00:00.001-08:00

Well, it's officially day 5 of Good Deed December. You'd think it would be easy to do one nice thing for someone a day, but when you work from home and don't see that many people unless you make it a point to go out of the house, sometimes the opportunity to do something nice just doesn't come up!

So that's what I did. I sought out nice things to do, either online or for people I live with or who live close to me, so that I wouldn't go a whole day without completing my mission.

So here's the update.

December 2: I can't tell you what I did because the person I did this for reads this blog and I don't want them to know about it yet. It's a surprise!

December 3: I left the house this day, so it was easy to find nice things to do. 1) I let a friend borrow two shirts after she overslept and didn't have time to go home before work. 2) I donated my loose change, about $1.50 to the Salvation Army bell ringer outside of Jewel. 3) I brought the movie Gran Torino over to my cousin who stayed home sick from work. Well, actually Dan brought it over since he was already dressed for winter, but it was my idea and my movie!

December 4: I held the door for someone at the bank. I also signed up for the Letters to Santa program through the Chicago Sun Times, in which you get a letter from a child addressed to Santa, and then you buy them one or more of the gifts on their list! I did this last year and it was stressful (only because I made it so), but fun. You can read ALL about my Secret Santa FAIL here. If you want to request a letter too, it's not too late. You have until December 16th!

Here are the other 20-something bloggers who are doing this challenge, or some other version of it:

Paige from Little Miss Paige
Liv from Semi Settled
Emily Jane from Emily Jane
Nicole from Miss Career Girl

If all five of us do one good deed a day for 31 days, that's 155 nice things that will happen to others in just one month! HOLY CRAP!

If there's anyone who's participating that I missed, let me know and I'll be sure to link to you in my next update.

Thanks for having big hearts girls. :)

-Leah

Good Deed December

2009-12-01T20:25:00.001-08:00

I just decided today to do this.

Every day for the month of December, I'm going to do one nice thing for someone, a good deed if you will.

One day, I might tell someone they dropped their wallet (only if they really did, of course). Another, I might volunteer somewhere. The deed may not be huge, but the key part of this challenge, for myself, is that whatever I do, it will be something that I wasn't required to do. It will be something that I did just because I wanted to, or maybe I didn't want to, but someone needed me to.

After all, it's the season of giving, right?

Today I did one nice thing and one sort of nice thing.

Nice thing: I made dinner (Chicken Tacos) for my roommates (this was actually a collaborative effort, but I bought most of the ingredients.

Sort of nice thing: Instead of leaving early for my meeting today and shopping downtown with money I don't have, I waited around for one of my roommates' mattress to be delivered so I could sign for it. It probably would have made it here anyway, but he was worried since he leaves for vacation tomorrow and I wanted him not to worry.

If you decide to participate in this challenge too, let me know and I'll link to your good deed when I post about mine each day.

Happy December!

Watch your mouth gals

2009-11-30T20:42:00.000-08:00

For the last 10 days, I've been traipsing around San Diego (and L.A. for an impromptu 2 day jaunt). It was fun, tiring, exciting, exhausting, expensive, etc...Everything you expect a vacation to be, especially when surrounded by upwards of 60 of your boyfriend's closest family members for the better part of the trip.

Anyway, while in L.A., Dan and I met a girl who found out the hard way, that a dictionary is a very useful tool and should consulted for any and all text messages regarding hanky panky, because what you say may not always be interpreted the way you mean it.

Said girl is friends with the couple we were staying with for a few days. We were in the only Chicago bar in Hermosa beach watching the Bears lose and talking about said girl's love life. She was SO excited because she just started dating a new guy and they were sending flirty text messages back and forth.

She then let it slip that she sent him a text message that morning that said, "Ravish me." The way she told us, you could tell that she thought the phrase was both clever and just the right amount of sexy that should be sent over text message.

Dan and I were both a little shocked, and Dan said something along the lines of, "You know that means rape, don't you?"

Uncomfortable silence.

She didn't know.

She thought it meant "Sex me up passionately, but non-violently."

It can mean something like that (see #3), but more often than not, it means something not quite so nice.

Here's the FreeDictionary.com version:
Ravish:

1. To seize and carry away by force.

2. To force (another) to have sexual intercourse; rape.

3. To overwhelm with emotion; enrapture. See Synonyms at enrapture.

Once I showed her the actual definition (Thank God for internet capable phones!), she immediately started in on the damage control. For the record, the guy didn't know what ravish meant, so it was pretty unnecessary.

The rest of the night, after a bunch more drinks and some pizza, she stated, "No wonder guys always want to sleep with me and then don't talk to me again. I've texted that to the last 9 guys I've dated!"

Ouch.

Word to the wise ladies. If you're going to be sexy through text message, make sure you know the meanings of what you're saying, ALL three or more of them.

List making and how I suck at it

2009-11-18T14:40:00.000-08:00

I make lists so I can stay on track and actually get stuff done during the day. Besides, I feel extra accomplished when I look at my list at the end of the day and ALMOST everything is checked off. (Checking everything off would mean a way too productive day for me).

I have a problem though when it comes to making lists. Most of the time there are things on the list that I absolutely don't want to do, but I still want to feel accomplished. To combat that inconvenience, I add more things to my list that I DO want to do (usually after I've already done them), and then cross them off. The more checks on my lined sheet of paper, the better.

That's why currently:

My toenails are painted - but my room is only half dusted.
My bathroom is relatively clean (it's really small and therefore not a hard task) - but my clothes have been in the dryer since yesterday. Folding and putting stuff away is the WORST.
I sent follow up emails to the company who interviewed me for a job I really want (cross your fingers for me!), updated my Linkedin profile, and sent pictures to my step mom - but haven't gone through my real mail in a week.
I dropped clothes off at the dry cleaners - but have only just started packing for my trip to San Diego tomorrow.
I showered - but didn't workout. Who wants to get sweaty after they've already showered?

My list is currently 17 activities long, some of which I was eager to do, and some of which I dreaded, and according to that list, I still AM.

I wonder if I'm the only person who does this.

Exceptionally Exceptional!

2009-11-15T15:02:00.000-08:00

Awhile ago, I guest posted on a Chicago blog called "The Exceptional Man" about, you guessed it, what makes a man exceptional (in my opinion). I went on and on about how great Dan is and talked about the idea I have that what you should really look for are the qualities that your grandmother looked for and how those qualities are so much more important than jewelry or vlogs dedicated in your honor.

I believe and meant everything I said. But, it wasn't until a few days ago that I realized that this guy that I've been dating, living with, (probably annoying the crap out of) for 2.5 years, is actually beyond exceptional and not just to me, but to the people who are important to me, too.

We were talking to a cousin of mine, who has been having boy troubles. Basically, she's been dating a selfish guy, who only acts like a boyfriend when it's convenient for him. Dan and I have been trying to get her to realize how much selfish guy is a minus in her life, and she does realize it but for some reason, she won't take the final step to say "That's it, we're through." He's waiting for her to do it, and she's holding out for him to change, when she knows he won't and that he's probably not even capable of doing so.

Then, Dan said something to my cousin that made me realize, even more than I already do, that he's not only a great partner, but he'll probably be a kick-ass father when the time comes and his teenage daughter is crying her eyes out because some jerkface broke her heart.

He said: K, the time you spend with A is a gift to be cherished. What has A done recently, in the past 6 months, or even the past year, to deserve that gift from you? Nothing.

He wasn't even talking to me and I started tearing up like the sensitive loser I am.

Sometimes I wish I could watch state farm insurance commercials without crying, but then I wouldn't be me. And if I wasn't me, I wouldn't have a guy who considers the time he spends with people a gift that he has to work towards deserving. You're doing a good job so far D.P.!

My boyfriend likes boys

2009-11-11T12:10:00.000-08:00

I have my few close girlfriends that I've had since elementary school/high school and a few more good girl friends that I've made since moving to Chicago/dating Dan/getting a grown up job, etc...

But I'm always amazed by how EASY it is for Dan to bond with other guys. It takes me weeks, months, years to form friendships and for him, it's effortless. I try to come off as friendly so people know that they can be themselves around me, but usually I just end up stuttering over a compliment in hopes that they'll like me right away.

Dan, on the other hand, spouts off something ridiculous or shocking and immediately, he has a new best friend! Here's one of his best lines to date: That guy must think the streets are paved with cheese cause he's driving like a pussy. <---Fievel Goes West Reference

Example: This weekend two of Dan's female friends were coming in to Chicago to go to a wedding in Milwaukee with us. They're from NJ, but he lived with them for four months while studying abroad in Australia. I was nervous because girls are usually way more judgmental than guys and I knew I wouldn't be at the top of my game because I was on Day 11 of being sick and didn't really feel up to entertaining.

I didn't really have to worry about that because we bonded over videogames (of all things!) but no matter how close we got, it wasn't anything like Dan and Kyle (one of the NJ girl's boyfriend). Seeing them together was like seeing Dan meet his long-lost brother from another mother for the first time. It was really special...and also a tad creepy how much alike they were.

This is after one night of drinking. Dan is shirtless...and I don't know if he's less anything else. I was upstairs sleeping while these shenanigans were going on and only saw this picture and the rest of this photoshoot in the morning. Here are Dan and Kyle bonding over tying ties. Dan knows how to tie a full-windsor and feels the need to make sure everyone else's tie looks as good as his. There are also a couple of bathtub pictures that I can't figure out how to get off my blackberry because they were sent to me by text and not email. Those are probably too weird for me to post up here anyway.

So on one hand, I'm grateful that I can bring Dan somewhere and people immediately like him, vice versa. It makes so many situations less stressful when I know that I don't have to babysit and introduce my boyfriend to everyone and their mother so his feelings don't get hurt. (I dated one of those before...it's horrible!)

On the other hand, should I be worried that he's perfectly okay, excited even, to take bathtub pictures with a guy he's only hung out with for about 4 days? OR should I be jealous that both girls I met didn't want to take bathtub pictures with ME? I don't even know what to think right now!

After this weekend, I'm left wondering, is it just easier for guys to bond right away? Or is it just easier for Dan?

Leah and the terrible horrible no good very bad day

2009-11-06T10:15:00.001-08:00

When I say I have no luck, I mean it. As soon as I think something great is going to happen, something equally horrible will happen to put me back in my place, the place where I remember that...I have no luck.

Example: Yesterday I had an appointment to give a presentation to a company about why I should do their social media. It was a big deal to me because it's a multi-million dollar company and would mean a steady paycheck for at least a few months while I worked on this project.

10 minutes before I had to leave, my fever (the one I've had off and one for 2 weeks) broke which meant my dress shirt was soaked through with sweat and THEN my computer decided it just wouldn't turn on. It was fully charged, and looked like it was on, but the screen was black. I couldn't bring a malfunctioning computer to a presentation, so I did what any sick, sweaty and out of their mind person would do and brought a harriet the spy notebook with a few things I jotted down that I could remember from my presentation. I then came up with the plan to try to act like my intentions all along were to only talk but I had a presentation ready if that's what he wanted. Thank God he didn't want the presentation...

On the way to my meeting (I'm still sweating) it was so sunny outside that I couldn't tell if some lights were red or green. I'm looking for the address of the place, which was on the south side in a sort of janky area. I can't find it so I turn around and as I turn around, I immediately hear sirens.

Me: Hi...Um, was that a red light or a green? I couldn't really tell. It's so sunny out!
Mr. Officer: I don't know, but you were driving down a one way street.
Me: Oh, really? I mean, I wasn't actually driving down it. I was just turning around. I'm lost! Do you know where this address is? (Like my quick subject change here? He didn't...)
Mr. Officer: License and registration please.

I then had to scramble to find Dan's insurance/registration with the sun beating down on me, which caused me to start sweating even more. Plus Dan has documents in his car all the way back from 1998 and I couldn't find them!

Eventually I did, and eventually the cop realized I'm just retarded and wasn't breaking any traffic rules on purpose. Oh, and it turned out I was directly in front of the address I was trying to reach.

He left me with a very wise word of advice (and no ticket!) He said, "You need to be more careful. We don't want you killing anybody."

I thought that was a little dramatic just for turning around on a one way. And if it REALLY was a one way (there was no sign) why was there a green/red light that let you go onto that street in the first place? Riddle me that, Mr. Officer!

The costume that topped my costume

2009-10-30T09:50:00.000-07:00

I'm not one to brag, but I usually have really awesome Halloween costumes. This is probably my best one to date. Yes, the hat's a little of center, but that's because I sewed it by hand and I can't sew!
I have a ridiculous costume planned for this year, but when I saw my friend Drew's costume I knew I wasn't going to be able to top it. How can you beat airbrushed muscles? Well I guess you could with real muscles but I don't have those, so...

This is my friend Drew. And this is part of his costume for Halloween. It's a long underwear outfit that his friend Chris, who is an amazing artist airbrushed for him.
We've been friends since my first year living in Chicago. He moved back to Kansas City last year and I don't get to see him as often as I used to so I'm really glad he's here for Halloween this year! Drew, you one-upped me this year, but I'm going to get you next year.

Puking out of your nose

2009-10-27T22:49:00.000-07:00

WARNING: Graphic content ahead. Do not read if you have a weak stomach!!

The body is capable of amazing things.

Example: I've been sick with the flu since Sunday. Symptoms of the particular type of flu I have, which hasn't been diagnosed as either Swine or Human, include, headache, sore throat, nasal drip, body aches, fever and chills. The flu this time around has also led me to find out a few things about myself.

1. I don't do "sick" well. Having your vacation ruined can lead to some very self-pitying thoughts. Luckily, I got sick while visiting my mom, so I have someone who will not just buy me chicken soup, she'll make it homemade for me, and she'll also take me to CVS at midnight and buy me Emergen-C, Theraflu and every other flu medicine on the market.

2. I can puke through my nose. I had no idea I had this super power. I had just choked down some apple cinnamon flavored Theraflu, which isn't terrible tasting, but it has this sort of fake sweet taste that sometimes leaves a film in your mouth. Being sick, I already had a phleghmy sort of feeling. Afterwards, I went to brush my teeth and a combination of coughing and sneezing, turned into me throwing up through my mouth and my nose. It happened so fast that I really have no idea HOW I did it, or if I could even do it again, but I do know that IT BURNED.

A lot.

Good thing all I ate today was soup. Double good thing that I didn't take my birth control right before I brushed my teeth. I took it out of the package, but a queasy feeling stopped me from taking it right then.

I've seen people shoot milk from their nose, even their eyeballs (those people are freaks though not super humans like me) but I've never seen anyone do what my body did tonight. I'm both proud and disgusted. Especially, because even though I brushed my teeth again and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash, I can still smell chicken broth mixed with apple cinnamon and stomach acid and it ain't pretty. Especially every time I sneeze.

20sb Blog Swap: My Day in Howth

2009-10-26T11:49:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! I'm participating in the 20sb blog swap. You can find my post about backpacking in Europe over at Erika's blog. I don't know when it will be up because I have the FLU right now and haven't been able to write it, but it will be up soon. In the meantime, here's Erika's lovely post about her trip to Howth, Ireland. Enjoy!

Hi, I'm Erika from Eh? What's This? and I'm taking over Leah's blog today to tell you about the wonderful day I spent overseas a year ago. To learn about her backpacking trip, head over to my blog to see what she wrote about!

Thorough out all of high school I always wanted to visit Ireland. It's where my family is from, where I had dreams of seeing never-ending green fields of sheep. I didn't get my hope after completing grade 12 to finally get to go, I had to wait three more years. The summer after I finished College, I was working for the Government in this two-bit summer student job that paid under minimum wage. I decided to finally take my chance, and saved all the money I made that summer to go and visit the sheep... and a few people.

Since I was planning to travel alone, my travel agent suggested that I take a Contiki Tour. It's a tour for youngsters between 18 and 35, and they have tours all over the world. I still wanted some time to see a few things on my own that they didn't cover, so I booked my plane ticket to leave three days before the tour started. It was the best decision I made that summer. I packed my bags, my mom dropped me at the airport, five hours early. It was the only time she could, so I sat in the airport and read my book, PS, I Love You... it seemed to fit.

The first day I spent there I rested, had a bit to eat, and visited the University of Dublin across the street from my hotel. The second day was amazing. I woke up early, had breakfast, and headed out for the train into downtown Dublin. When I got there, my first order of business was to find a Starbucks! I walked around Temple Bar, and did a bit of window shopping (I knew the tour had a day of shopping at the end of the trip, and I didn't want to spend all my money at once) and then I grabbed the train and headed up to Howth.

Howth is a little village on the East Coast of Ireland on the water. I had read they had lighthouses there, and I had never actually seen a lighthouse (I have lived my whole life near Toronto, Ontario). I sat on the train with these two French guys that I don't think spoke a word of English (and yes I'm from Canada, but I don't speak a word of French). You have to transfer the trains to reach Howth, and as all three of us waited for the next train, we realized we were heading to the same place. I'm not sure if they knew what they were going to see once they got there, but I sure didn't. Part of my thought, a few houses and a lighthouse. When I rounded that corner from the train station and saw the TWO lighthouses, the houses built into the hill, the water, the people, the fishing boats, I was in heaven. That is my kind of town... to visit on weekends or in the summer, not really to live in.
I walked along the pier, taking photos of all the boats (I took over 1,000 in ten days) when I ran into the same two French guys looking into the water. I stopped to have a look, I wanted to know what was so great in the water to make them stop. One look into the teal-ish blue water I was in shock. There was four wild seals swimming around. Not just one, or two, but four! The closest I have ever come to a seal was at the Toronto Zoo behind a glass window. And here people were feeding them. It was great.
It was one the best moments on my trip, one that when I think about Ireland I always think of those seals.I did the one thing my dad asked me not to do, I sent a media file text back to Canada to both him and my mom. He wasn't too upset about the bill.After watching them for about twenty minutes, I walked along the other pier to the lighthouses, and then went to the little shops to have some ice cream. It was so unreal.

Going home and not going broke

2009-10-23T14:45:00.000-07:00

So far, I haven't been doing that great in Don't Go Over in October. I've really only had two purchasing slip-ups, but one was major and resulted in the purchase of these beauties.My reason? I had a dream that I was supposed to wear blue shoes with the dress I'm wearing to a wedding in November. The shoes in my dream didn't look exactly like the Steve Madden shoes above but they were close. Plus, they were almost half off the retail price, and only one pair was left in my size. I can probably pull more reasons out of my ass if you'd like.

I also spent money on a friend's birthday that I hadn't accounted for, because I'm a bad friend and forgot about her birthday until the last minute. If I had remembered earlier, I could have made her something instead. :|

My saving grace this month is that I'm going to be in Baltimore for almost a week with my mom and brother, and being in Baltimore means I won't spend any money. Don't tell me I'm not the only one who takes advantage of free meals when they're home.

I might actually even come home with something new, like a pedicure! It's something my mom and I like to do together. A fun day for us consists of eating tapas at the restaurant connected to the Charles Theater, seeing an independent movie that no one back home in Chicago will see with me, and getting pedicures.

Being here until Wednesday means I'll hardly spend any money from today until October 28th. That means I only have 3 days when I get back to Chicago to keep up with my budget. For that, I'm thankful! Aaaand, so is my bank account.

My Weekend Meltdown

2009-10-17T21:46:00.000-07:00

Last week, I watched one too many wedding shows. Too many as in:

One day there was an all-day marathon of Say Yes to the Dress. The only thing they do in that show is try on wedding dresses until they find the right one. I watched roughly 7 or 12 episodes. Good thing they're only 30 mins each.

On Friday, there was an all-day marathon of Whose Wedding is it Anyway? on the BBC. Leave it to the BBC to come up with a wedding show that borders on cruel and unusual punishment. The premise of the show is that the network will pay for a couple's wedding, but only if the groom plans the entire day in less than 3 weeks and stays under the 12,000 pounds ($20,000) budget. The bride and groom can't talk to each other for those three weeks and don't see each other until their wedding day, where she will ultimately be wearing the dress he picked out, or he'll be brideless because she's too shallow to marry unless she gets her perfect dream wedding. My ass was glued to my couch for this one. I don't even KNOW how many episodes I watched.

Then I turned on the Jewelry channel, because after I get paid for the last big freelance thing I worked on, I'm buying myself a present. Pearls maybe? What was JTV displaying for their 16th anniversary?? DIAMONDS...Of course.

Then, I checked my Facebook, and in a matter of 2 days, 3 friends had become engaged and 2 had babies. Oh, and I just found out today that another one is pregnant. I'm only 25! How do I have so many friends that are already doing these things?!

Did I mention I've been to 5 weddings this year already and have 2 more in the month of November?

All of these factors, combined with the fact that I've been dating my boyfriend for 2.5 years (that's about 15 in dog years...), we live with roommates, and I had a few too many drinks, led to my undoing.

I'll spare you the gory details but it went something like this.

Me: You're never going to marry me! *Blubber*
Dan: (Very calmly) Who said that? I wouldn't have moved from Michigan to be with you if I didn't see us together for the long-haul.
Me: But the guy at the bar, and then his girlfriend, 8 YEARS!! *more blubbering* (Even if this was a complete sentence, it couldn't have made sense since I forgot to tell Dan about the guy at the bar who dated his girlfriend for 8 years until he asked her to marry him because he thought it was "about time" and who, in my already fragile state, upset me.)
Dan: You're drunk and being ridiculous.

Oh, really?? You mean it's not perfectly normal to try to pressure your boyfriend into committing to marry you while you're both intoxicated. (Sigh)

Needless to say, I went to bed angry and drunk and woke up hungover and embarrassed.

The funny thing is, that up until I met Dan I didn't even WANT to get married. I wanted to find my life partner and be the successful and good-looking Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russel couple of our time.

According to my calculations, I have much other pressing things to worry about. Like...that whole job thing.

So, I decided to make an almost New Year's resolution. I'm going to focus on what I already have and the things that make me happy, not what other people have that I'm not ready for yet but TV and Facebook tell me I should be doing. To help me in this quest, I have since sworn off looking at babies (I plan on walking around my neighborhood blindfolded), and watching weddings shows and the jewelry channel.

I really hope I'm not the only one who has meltdowns like this occasionally...

Forgive me Father...

2009-10-13T13:40:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make.

You know how I decided to participate in Don't go Over in October so I could save money?? Well...I'm participating, and so far it looks like I'm doing really well on paper, (except for that $15 H&M slip up) but, there's a reason for that.

You see, I've found a way to skirt the rules. I'm not proud of it (well, only a little) but I promised to be honest about how the challenge was going, so here it is.

I've still been buying stuff...only for the past week I've either been using cash (which doesn't get recorded in Mint.com) OR I've been using gift cards. It's amazing how many gift cards I actually had lying around the house!

Target
Blockbuster
NY & Co
Visa
iTunes

With the exception of Target, they were all giftcards that I completely forgot about until I rifled through my wallet.

I think what I'm doing is okay because I'm not spending the money I budgeted for. But then again, it also means that I'm not doing anything to fight my overwhelming urge to purchase items I (probably) don't need.

I think it's the weather. Yes! Let's blame the weather. It's gloomy and cold, which makes me want to do indoor things and shopping is close to the funnest indoor thing to do of all indoor things in the universe.

The Condom Caper

2009-10-04T18:53:00.000-07:00

This weekend, in an effort to get out of the house even though it was raining and cold and I'm not allowed to spend any money, Dan and I went to see The Informant. The movie was good, although it wasn't as funny as they market it to be, and I left the theater with a big question about mental illness and whether it was supposed to play an integral part or just be mentioned in passing. Dan thinks it didn't contribute to the main character's actions. I think it did. If you've seen it, I'd like to know your thoughts.

Anyway, after a mostly enjoyable movie, Dan and I left the theater. I was feeling pretty good. I had a belly full of lemonade and my boyfriend holding my hand. That's when things got weird.

We walked out to Dan's car to find THIS stuck to it.

In case you're blind or sexually inexperienced, that's a condom stuck to Dan's car...a really long condom at that.

We were both completely disgusted and a little uncomfortable. I busted out laughing, because I do that when things are awkward, and seeing a stranger's semen stuck to my boyfriend's car definitely falls into that category.

Then my head started spinning with questions! Is the person that did this watching us to get our reaction? Did they do it because Dan drives a Lexus? If that's the case, I bet they wouldn't have if they new it was his Dad's from 1991 and has over 300,000 miles on it! How is Dan going to get that off of his car without touching it? Lord knows I'm not helping! Why on earth would someone have a used condom laying around that they had to get rid of? (For the record, I know people have sex in their cars...but you couldn't do that in a lit up busy parking garage, so they must have been carrying that condom around for at least a little while).

Dan decided to leave the condom on his car while we drove to our next destination. Don't ask my why. Maybe he thought it would be funny. Or maybe he thought it would spite, or be a fuck you to, the person who did it. Either way, he was somewhat angry about the condom and I wasn't touching it so I didn't argue with his decision.

As we drove off in silence...with a used condom still stuck to the car, Dan turned to me and said, "I think I should have just scraped it off before we left."

Me: Why?
Dan: Look behind us.

I turned to look, and the condom had shifted from its position on Dan's roof and all of its contents were slowly spreading down the rear windshield, mixing with the rain.

After that, we couldn't help acting like 10 yr old boys. I busted out laughing again and this time Dan joined me.

Chicago, you never let me down.

Day 1 of Don't go Over in October

2009-10-01T21:10:00.001-07:00

As most of you know, I'm participating in Don't go over in October, in which I can't spend money on anything unnecessary for the whole month of October! Today I used Mint.com for the first time. I have to say that even though it was really scary to put myself on a budget, (a real one, not the imaginary one that I can ignore anytime I want to), it was also a little liberating. For the first time...um...ever...I saw all my bills on one page, and how much money I have allotted for those bills, and how much I can realistically spend on fun, while still being able to save a little here or there.

I inherited this way of thinking from my mom called, "If you ignore something it will go away." As I've gotten older, I've learned that that's just not true and when you ignore something, like an ex, it will only become an even bigger problem until it's unmanageable. Participating in a project that makes me own up to my spending and makes me track it is a scary thing, but I also know it's going to be good for me.

I've been ignoring my finances, just like I was ignoring making healthy food choices until my trainer made me keep a food journal. That was a wake up call and it turned out the food I was eating was counteracting my exercise and keeping me from losing belly fat.

2 inches off my waist, a tighter butt, and lots and lots of tofu later, I'm finally realizing that I can't ignore important things (like my diet) if I want to look better. And I can't ignore my finances if I want to live better.

I figure, if I can become the girl who orders tofu in my Thai Food instead of chicken, and who only eats bacon on special occasions, then I can most certainly become the girl who doesn't put an ON SALE BCBG dress on her credit card the day before her budget starts, even though she already has 2 other perfectly wedding appropriate dresses, just because her boyfriend's ex will be at said wedding and she wants to look like an extra hot tamale -- minus the pork.

Scaring the pants off of you

2009-09-29T14:50:00.000-07:00

Participating in Don't Go Over in October has caused me to scramble to get a few things purchased before the end of the month, especially since I can't spend ANY unnecessary money in October. This included my Halloween costume, although, for the record, I still deem this necessary.

Even though I've already told most of my friends what I'm being (because I can't keep a secret), I don't want to reveal my costume just yet, because obviously my 1000s of readers will want to steal it. But I will say this, a nude unitard that's less than $70 is a difficult find. I just hope mine fits when it gets here.

The rest of the costume will rely on my artistic abilities.

Have you guessed what I'm going to be yet?

I'll give you a hint. It's not a Cheshire Cat or a piece of modern art, which were two of my original choices. It's WAY better than those.

Well maybe not better than modern art, but pretty darn close.

It's not lost, just hiding

2009-09-23T21:26:00.001-07:00

As I looked at the giant pile of clothes on my floor, where the bra I needed was inevitably hiding, Dan chimed in with "You know what my mom always says, If you can't find something, clean up."

I retorted with, "When I can't find something, I just keep digging." And to prove my point, I held my bra up in triumph.

Seriously, I need to do laundry and clean my room before my digging theory stops working. It's getting that bad. This picture doesn't even do it justice.

Don't go over in October

2009-09-20T17:32:00.000-07:00

In just over a week, I'm participating in a challenge called, "Don't go over in October" brought to you by Ms. Career Girl. The rules of this challenge mean you can't buy anything that you DON'T need in the month of October. You also have to track your spending and set an entertainment budget. This is going to be painful, but it will be the kick in the ass I need that Dan can't give me, because that would be considered domestic abuse.

So that I'm not miserable while I'm not going over in October, I've begun planning ahead. Here's what I foresee myself NEEDING, that other people aren't going to consider necessary, that I'm now going to have to scramble to buy in September so I can be frugal in October.

1. A Halloween costume. I usually plan this months in advance and buy my costume parts slowly as I find them, so that I have the perfect look. Last year I was both Daria and Richard Simmons. This year I have to find something to beat BOTH of those costumes without spending a bunch of money. If you have any suggestions, pass them on!

2. A haircut and dye. Seriously, my hair is frazzled and I was going to wait until I got paid from my freelancing gigs, but I'm just going to have to do it this week because I definitely can't wait until November. That would be sick! Hope my favorite girl can fit me in.

3. An eyebrow wax. Apparently October was the month that I was going to decide to pamper myself...

4. A trip to Canada or Colorado. I've never been to either of these places and October was going to be my month to bite the bullet, choose one and buy my tickets. I'm not sure, however, if it counts as spending money in October if I buy the ticket, but don't actually go on the trip until later? I'll have to check with the rule lady.

5. SHOES. I'm shoe crazy and buy no less than one pair a month. In anticipation, I bought a pair of maroon patent leather flats today, but what if it gets drastically cold in October and I need to buy boots? What then?!

6. BOOKS. I'm as book crazy as I am about shoes. I have two that I'm in the middle of right now but once those are done, I'll be fresh out of fresh reads! I wonder if I can have Dan buy them for me and then I'll pay him back in November? (I'll have to check with the rule lady on that one too.)

That's all I can think of right now, but I'm sure on September 30th, I'll be panicking because I didn't buy the pet turtle I've always wanted and will have to wait another month.

Wh-wh-wh-wh-what would you do?

2009-09-15T08:48:00.000-07:00

In April, I was laid off from the marketing agency I had been with for just over 2 years. In August, they asked me to come back and freelance for a few weeks, and I did. I received mixed reactions from friends when I told them that I was going back to my old stomping ground.

Some told me to just move on, some told me to charge them up the A** (I DID NOT!), and some told me to go back but only if I was sure I wasn't going to be miserable and have hard feelings toward everyone while being there. I'm not a grudge holder, so I knew this wouldn't be a problem.

When I decided to go back, I took many things into consideration. I wasn't strapped for money, but I missed my old coworkers. I missed working with clients who make you want to rip your hair out (my own freelance clients are surprisingly nice and well-mannered!), I missed dressing up in cute business clothes, which I made sure to do every day, and I missed seeing the same familiar strangers on my commutes to and from work.

The first couple of days were awkward with the questions like, "What have you been doing since you've been gone?" (Take a look-see!) and, "Isn't it awkward being back?" Well it wasn't that awkward until you pointed it out...

But eventually I settled into my old position as their copywriter/social media advocate. Want to go the Twestival? Anyone? I always got along with everyone while I worked there, but I have to say, this time, I think I got along even better with most of my old coworkers, especially as we bonded over free patty melts and cocktails. I have to say, being back WASN'T THAT BAD. It might even go as far as to say it was FUN!

Overall, one coworker's 1st day comment rang true. He said I looked more grownup than when I worked there. Even though I've only been on my own for 5 months, I feel like I've grown up a lot. After consulting with and leading clients on my own, I feel more confident in my work and my abilities. I'm glad to see it's showing on the outside as well.

After all, I did make one of the first logical decisions of my life by going back even though I questioned that decision no less than 9 times. And, the cushion I'll have in my bank account in 30-45 days makes everything feel just a little bit nicer.

I know a lot of people who read this blog have also been laid off or are between jobs. Know how I know? Because I read your blogs too! If you were in the same position, what would you have done?

This weekend

2009-09-07T18:58:00.000-07:00

Well, this weekend a few major things happened. I learned that my personal training must be paying off somewhat, although I might need to step things up if I don't want to earn any more embarrassing nicknames. I lost 2 VERY important articles of clothing, and karma bit me in the ass...or some other body part...ONCE AGAIN.

Let's go in chronological order.

1. Dan and I went to Paw Paw, Michigan this weekend. Every time we go to Paw Paw, I beg and plead to stop at the outlet mall that's on the way. It's not a janky outlet mall. And, it's not an outlet mall that tricks you into thinking you're going to get a bargain, but in reality, prices are the same as in the regular store. This outlet mall has BCBG, Banana Republic, jewelry stores, bookstores, Nine West, etc... In two words: It rules.

After browsing for a good 15 minutes in the Nike store, the cutest maroon and gray zip-up appeared out of nowhere. It was misplaced and hanging with some socks, so I had no way of knowing if it was a woman's, a man's, or a kid's jacket. It didn't matter to me though. It was adorable, cheap, and fit me perfectly. It was MADE for me. I strutted my stuff around the store, wearing my soon-to-be new zip up, seeing how it felt to actually walk around in it instead of just looking at myself in a mirror. Upon purchasing, I checked out the tag on the zip-up, not the one with the price on it, and found out that I had actually purchased a little boy's jacket and that if I was an 8 year old boy, the sleeves that I thought were quarter-length sleeves, would actually go all the way down to my wrists.

This is how I know my personal training is paying off.

2. While in Paw Paw this weekend, Dan and I visited our friend Linda and took a ride on her dad's new boat in South Haven. I haven't been on a moving boat since I was in junior high. Since I was new to the game, Linda suggested we sit on the front of the boat to watch other boats go by. To do this, you have to hoist yourself up through a hole above the cabin by your arms. Since I couldn't lift myself, I sort of had to just jump as high as I could and flop onto the deck, hoping for the best. This earned me a nickname which I decided to leave in Michigan: The Flopper or Floppy.

*Note to my spindle arms: Being small enough to wear children's clothing, DOES NOT mean you are strong. Maybe some pull ups are in our future?

3. For the boat ride, I knew I wasn't going in the water, so I opted to put on my bathing suit top, but keep my jeans on and roll them up. This meant leaving my clothes for that night, my favorite bra, and my bathing suit bottoms in Dan's vintage Cadillac. I was nervous, because you don't leave things in your car in Chicago or someone will break your window to steal them. You especially don't leave things in your car with the windows down and the doors unlocked. Apparently you do in Michigan! After being assured that my clothes would be fine, (who would steal bathing suit bottoms without a top, right?) I went along my merry way.

Today, as I was packing to come home, I realized that my favorite bra, the only one I own that makes me look like I actually have boobs, was gone, along with my bathing suit bottoms. My shirt, jeans, and Dan's shorts however were right where we'd left them. Two things ran through my mind: Either South Haven has a perv who likes to steal intimates, or they blew out the window on a sharp turn and I didn't notice.

Turns out, Dan's friends played a joke on me and put them in the glovebox of Dan's Cadillac. The Cadillac that Dan ONLY drives in Michigan in the summer. The Cadillac that is the opposite of the car that we drive in Chicago. They also forgot to tell us until today after we had already left Michigan. Hence, my bathing suit bottoms and best bra are now in a garage in Paw Paw Michigan, and not in my dresser like they should be. I know that since they're men, Dan's friends don't understand the importance of a good bra, so I'm trying not to hold this against them, but it's definitely going to take at least a week for me to get over it, or maybe 2, since that's how long it will be until I'm in Michigan again!

4. This one's short, I promise. Today I forgot my manners. When I start getting excited or really into talking about something, my hands start flailing. Right as I was getting ready to badmouth the outfit of someone who is loosely dating my cousin, and whom I barely know, my elbow smacked into a cactus that was behind my chair that I hadn't even noticed. I took that as a sign that Karma was telling me to shut my mouth. And I DID! I actually stopped mid-sentence. All of my cousins took it as a sign that I'm clumsy.

That was my weekend in 1000 words (more) or less. How was yours?

Quote

2009-08-30T14:12:00.000-07:00

If success and happiness weren't measured by money, I'd be a lot more successful and a lot happier. -Me

Sweet Peat

2009-08-24T10:55:00.000-07:00

I admit that sometimes I say ridiculous things. Most of this comes from not thinking before I talk, or from not entirely paying attention so that when I do respond, what comes out of my mouth doesn't make any sense at all.

On the other hand, everything Dan says has a purpose. It's either to be humorous, show his intelligence, or make you feel good about yourself. He never just talks to hear himself, like I do sometimes. And his stories always have an ending, unlike mine that tend to trail off when I forget the punchline or the point of the story. (I blame my mother for that flaw!).

Here are some of my favorite DanPeat sayings that have either made me or others laugh or just feel awesome.

Me: How warm should the water in this flower vase be?
Dan: What's the temperature of peaceful raindrops?*

*It should be noted that when he said this, we were filling up a vase with water for the birthday flowers he got me. Lilies. My favorite. He also said it like I imagine a hippie would when talking about the sun and how it was created just to shine down on all of us and make us happy.

Me: My trainer said I look slimmer today!
Dan: Is he flirting with you? Tell that Kiwi I'm going to make him into a delicious smoothie next time I see him. (My trainer is from New Zealand hence the kiwi reference. Also, Ralph, if you read this, Dan was joking!)

Dan: You're #1!
Dan likes making people feel good. He even sends weekly texts to his long-time friend Ramsey reminding her how cool she is!

You're #1 is one of his favorite compliments, along with, "Isn't (insert name) SO pretty/cool/smart/awesome/funny, etc...?" to which of course, everyone replies, "Yes!" making you feel spectacular!

Dating or being friends with Dan is almost like being in grade school with a teacher who adores you only instead of getting an, "Excellent Job" sticker on your spelling paper, DanPeat gives you an A+ just for being you.

He's also really good at giving hugs and impersonating the Count from Sesame Street while chasing you around the apt.

This might be a somewhat lovestruck post, but I just had my 25th birthday yesterday and was really overwhelmed by how much Dan tried to make sure I had a wonderful birthday (I did!) and the amazing-ness of my friends that celebrated it with me.

Maybe I'm turning into a sap in my old age, but I hope that you also have someone in your life who cares about you just as much as Dan cares about the people in his life. And I'm really glad that I can be one of the chosen ones, especially when I can be such a monster sometimes!

I'm a monster

2009-08-20T12:39:00.000-07:00

Even though I'm a marketing/advertising copywriter, I usually keep this blog personal. There are enough marketing blogs out there to keep you all satisfied, and frankly, I'd rather write about myself.

But I just HAVE to talk about Buffalo Wild Wings and their new social media marketing.

Thanks to Buffalo Wild Wings, you can now Monsterize yourself. It's way too much fun.

Ever wondered what you'd look like as a brain-eating zombie or female-obsessed werewolf? Now you can find out! Through Buffalo Wild Wings monsterizer your looks can match that growling noise your stomach makes when you're hungry late at night. A noise that only some Buffalo Wild Wings...wings...can stifle.

I did it.

Here's my before.
Aaaand my after.
Once you're done you can then share your new look on Facebook, Twitter and Myspace. Not sure why they even bothered with Myspace? Does anyone still use it? Maybe to hit up the younger crowd.

Anyway! Go Monsterize yourself so you can thank mom and dad for not passing on boils in the gene pool!

I know which kind I am

2009-08-19T13:09:00.001-07:00

There are two kinds of people in this world. Ones who say, "I don't know" when you ask them what they want for their birthday making you struggle to find the perfect gift, and ones that have a list prepared.

I used to make a list ranging in price from $4 toe ring to $10,000 car (I'll let you guess which one I never got) for every birthday, holiday, or Leah deserves a gift day, until I started dating Dan.

I loved providing a detailed list, with links to where things could be purchased online. I looked forward to it every year. My list meant no disappointments on my end when I didn't get what I wanted, no feelings of guilt when I had to return something that didn't fit, and no disappointment on the gift giver's end when I didn't jump for joy at the pink mohair sweater that I opened instead of Backstreet Boy concert tickets. Everyone wins!

The first time I tried to make a list and give it to Dan, he shut me down and even made me feel a little guilty by pointing out that lists take away all the fun that comes along with picking out a gift for someone and the surprise when they open something they didn't expect.

He calls the anticipation FUN.

I call it STRESSFUL.

He calls making a list SELFISH.

I call it HELPFUL.

Since I can't make a list and give it to Dan. I just decided to make one on my blog. Because it's my blog, and my birthday, and I can do what I want.

1. Tickets to Cavalia. It's like Cirque de Soleil...with horses! I want to see it just for the novelty factor. Dan hates horses. I like horses, but after getting bucked off of one in the 8th grade while riding bareback, I only like LOOKING at them and watching other people ride them.

2. These business cards. If I'm going to get a full-time job or be taken seriously as a freelancer I need these. Nothing says, "I can write" like herringbone and salmon...right?

3. This hair comb. Might be a tough feat since it sold out...in February. I didn't buy it then and I'm STILL regretting it! If someone could attempt to make me something just as amazing, I'd take that too.
4. A job. A real one, not a "My friend needs someone to bartend at their party" job, although I probably would do it if I was able to drink for free...

5. Ballet season tickets (or just tickets to the ballet). When I got laid off, I spent a month and a half hyping the new ballet season to people who didn't care. Now that I no longer sell my soul for $8/hr plus commission, I also no longer get to see the ballet for free. This is a crying shame because in the process of convincing people how spectacular the new season is going to be, I also convinced myself. I'll tell you a secret: The Joffrey spent over $2 million on the Cinderalla production being put on next winter. Who wants to go see it with me?!

6. A lamp with a purple base. If they made this lamp in purple, I'd die. Or just buy it for myself.
7. Adopt a baby in Africa in my name and then send her $20 a month (for me) for the next 18 years.

8. These Steve Madden shoes. I saw someone wearing them once and almost mugged her and ran off with them. Instead I decided to scour the web and here they are on Zappos! I don't even know if I'd be able to walk in them, or if they'd make me look like I have cankles, but I love them.
8. Season 2 of Pushing Daisies. I didn't get into this show until after it was already canceled. When I realized I was one season in on DVD and only had one more to watch, I got incredibly sad...like drown your sorrows in ice cream with cookies mashed up on top sad. I own season 1. The least I could do is purchase it a friend to hang out on the shelf with.
I could keep going, but seeing as this post has taken precedent over showering, I should probably do that, before someone notices that it's 4pm and I'm still in my PJ's.

What's in a name?

2009-08-16T20:09:00.000-07:00

Part of my training with Ralph over at ENRG Fitness Chicago includes keeping a food journal. Since I have to keep a food journal, I find myself trying to eat things based on the fact that I KNOW I have to write them down and show them to Ralph later. Kashi cereal for breakfast sometimes with a grapefruit or kiwi, or toast with peanut butter are a few of my favorites. I've actually become a bit obsessed with toast with peanut butter. So much so, that after seeing it for three days in a row on my journal last week, Ralph made me show him the peanut butter I was eating.

I'll just tell you now, it's good old Jif. Just like your momma gave you and my momma gave me. Also turns out that Jif has an ingredient that, although not entirely bad for you, has a very threatening name.

Check out the picture and see if you can tell what that ingredient is.

Find it yet?

If you haven't figured it out, I'll just tell you. RAPESEED.

...

It almost feels wrong to eat Jif now. After looking up rapeseed on Wikipedia, it's actually the seed they use for canola oil and it's really beautiful yellow flower. WHY, do they have to call it rapeseed so that I don't want to eat it?!

I'm now considering switching to a peanut butter with ingredients that I can pronounce and that don't scare the crap out of me.

What's YOUR peanut butter of choice?

The perks of being a blogger

2009-08-12T08:36:00.000-07:00

are also the same as the perks of being a wallflower. You can hide behind your computer screen spewing your soul onto a blank page, but every once in a while you have to interact with the outside world...especially if you want to get invited to fun stuff, or in the case of the wallflower, bag the girl of your dreams.

Since I started blogging, I've been very fortunate to participate in a lot of events and get a lot of free swag just for putting my pithy little thoughts on the internet.

One of my favorite events so far has been the Gap "Born to Fit" Party thrown by Maggie from Red Letter Haze. Basically, big brands, in this case Gap, realized that word of mouth is not a dead marketing tactic, and they've started picking out people active in social media to host parties where you talk about the brand, use the brand, and at the end of the party, get free stuff sponsored by the brand.

At Maggie's party, I met new and awesome bloggers who, unbeknownst to me, I had already been reading but had never met in real life. Here's most of the group. See those pastry things in the middle? They were made of nutella and banana. I almost died.
I got to eat delicious food. Maggie is a wonderful cook and made stuffed shells which I couldn't turn down, even though I'm lactose intolerant! I drank a little bubbly. AND, get this...
I left with free jeans.

YES.

Free GAP jeans. I don't normally buy Gap jeans, mainly because I'd rather spend $30 on a pair at Old Navy or $60 on a $200 pair at Filene's Basement. It's just how I am, I like to either not spend a lot of money, or feel like I'm getting a lot when I do.

But these jeans are awesome, and they make my butt look...dare I say it...FOINE!
More pictures from the party can be seen here. Seriously, you'll be jealous. Who gets to display a wall of jeans in their home and say, "Have at 'em girls!" Not many people.

Just a tip though: If you do go to one of these parties, try on the jeans BEFORE you eat.

I was thinking (yes, thinking...don't be mean) and if Brand About Town wanted me to host a party for them, I don't think I'd say no...

I also don't think they know that I'm the queen of hosting parties. I mean, did they hear about my NO PANTS Party back in spring of '07? I bet if they did, they'd be knocking down my door to put pants on ALL those people!

P.S. I have awesome news that might be awesomer than free jeans, but probably not.

My very first post on this blog talked about my burning desire for a website, and now, after finding a spunky designer by clicking a Craigslist ad offering model portfolio services (don't ask me why I clicked that) I'm an inch and maybe a few days away from having my very own website complete with a name that just screams LEAH...literally. I can't wait to show it off once it's finally up. It's cute, it's sassy and if someone doesn't hire me after just one glance at it, well then, fudge it.

The Orphan and a dirty ass

2009-07-26T09:49:00.001-07:00

It's been a few years since I saw a horror movie in the theater, and I almost forgot what it was like. Everything is so much scarier when it's projected to 50 ft instead of 2 ft, like it is on my T.V. at home. And even something as small as someone laughing can make me jump like I just saw a mouse...a really scary mouse...like a rabid, zombie mouse with devil horns and spider legs.

Last night I went to see the Orphan. I also forgot that when you go see a movie, especially a scary movie or thriller, there are always loudmouths in the theater who have to comment on everything that's happening during the movie. Here are a few of the gems I heard last night:

My feet don't smell! (This was said by the girl who had her feet up on the chair in front of her directly next to my mom's head).

That's cause your dirty ass was doin' it in the kitchen! Dirty ass...

Stay in the basket! Why's she getting outta the basket? STAY. IN. THE. BASKET!

I'd tell you a few more, but it would give away major plot lines and I don't want to ruin the movie for you!

I wanted to tell the three girls behind me to shut up, but their comments were getting more and more hilarious as the movie went on. Plus, sometimes telling someone to shut up is just as disruptive to the other audience members as whatever the loudmouths were saying in the first place. Not to mention, teenage girls are catty and I didn't want to end up with chewed up sour patch kids in my hair.

The movie was good. It had everything I look for in a successful horror movie: past trauma that sets you up for current or future trauma, lies, murder, sex, betrayal, a deaf kid(?), a power outage, and a majorly creepy little girl.

I recommend it, but only if you don't have to do laundry in the basement later like I did.

Movie watcher reviews

2009-07-23T07:59:00.000-07:00

Since I've been in Baltimore hanging out with my family, which is going on a month now, I've watched a ton of movies.

Some were old, some were new, some were borrowed (rented), some were seen in the theater.

Just in case there's a movie that you've been wanting to see, but you weren't sure if you should, below I've posted short reviews of each that might push you over the edge one way or the other!

Doubt: This movie deserved every award it won at the Oscars and Golden Globes. I still have some doubt in my mind as to what actually happened in the movie, but I'd see it again.

Mama Mia: Meryl Streep really can't sing. She's amazing otherwise, but since she's the star, well...this is a problem.

Away We Go: This is a quote from my mom: If John Krasinksi wasn't so charming that movie wouldn't have been as good. Me: I loved it and not just because one of my favorite authors/editors (Dave Eggers) wrote it!

Mrs. Pettigrew Lives for a Day: BORING. In fact, it was a total waste of the brain space it took to process just how boring it was.

Fish Called Wanda: A stupid guy, a stutterer, a woman who has an orgasm anytime someone speaks a foreign language, and John Cleese. What more do you need? Favorite quote: "I've worn dresses with higher IQs than you." (I know a few people like that...)

Marley and Me: I'm sure I'm not ruining the ending for you. The dog dies. I cried...like one tear and my mom fell asleep. I'm not sure why everyone loved this movie. It was cute, but my life isn't any better for seeing it.

The Hangover: I'd already seen this, but my mom needed cheering up so we went. It worked. The Hangover has magical happy powers...maybe it was the Asian guy with no penis that did it?

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince: People are mad that it left out important stuff from the book, but I don't remember that many details from the book, even though I read it, so my clean slated brain loved it.

Rachel Getting Married: A fuck up fresh out of rehab almost ruins her sisters Indian themed wedding (even though the bride is white and the groom is black). Does it sound stupid? That's because it was.

Defiance: I'd be Billy Elliot's or Liev Schriber's or even Daniel Craig's Jewish forest wife, if I didn't have to live in a forest...during the Holocaust.

I'm sure I've watched more movies, but these are the ones I can remember right now. I'll probably add more later. Seen anything lately that I should add to my list?

Blogswap: Bear with the present, let the future be

2009-07-22T18:49:00.000-07:00

Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I'm Asif from Conversations With Myself, and as per the rules of engagement for 20SB's Blogswap, I shall be your designated blogger for the day. I've never done this sort of thing before, so I'm going to try real hard not to ruin Leah's blog with obscenities and inappropriate subject matter. Bear with me here, folks. I'm kind of an ass.

Me: Is it "Bare with me" or "Bear with me" ?

Friend: Bear.

Me: No fucking way, seriously?

Friend: Yeah.

Me: Someone just told me the same thing. But I don't trust you. You're trying to sabotage me!

Friend: Bare means naked, or without.

Friend: You're never bear naked. You're bare naked.

Me: So then, how is "bear with me" right?

Friend: LISTEN, I DON'T KNOW. But how the fuck would "Bare with me" be right either?

Friend: http://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=1G1GGLQ_ENUS314&q=bear+with+me

Friend: Okay, I win.

Me: I wish I was a bear.

Friend: Me too.

________________________________

Leah's already sent me her post, but as I'm an intolerably lazy and unproductive bastard I'm only now working on this post for her. It's 7 PM, and all I've had to eat today is coffee, cigarettes, and a whole lot of whiskey. A balanced diet, no doubt. Hell, I've only been awake for four hours. I'm sure you can imagine quite clearly the life I lead. In any case, I've been utterly incapable of producing a relevant topic to write about, so I read her post and thought I'd write along similar lines. In essence, the subject is "Who am I now?".

I've been stuck in an odd sort of stasis recently; plagued by this sense of overwhelming mediocrity over everything it is I attempt to do. I can't seem to live up to my own standards (which are unprecedentedly high) so I find that nothing I do is ever good enough. Consequently, I find myself brooding over everything it is I've accomplished, or rather, failed to accomplish up to this point. This feeling isn't new, and if anything; it's a recurring phase I fall into.

It's not as if I was ever destined for greatness. I'd say it's more likely my life has been on a steady decline since childhood. Especially after years of being pressured by my parents towards academic glory. But by high school, as a means to rebel, I had settled into this apathetic slacker-pothead persona that I retain even now. Of course, it was never entirely about showing them up by never doing what I was supposed to. The majority of the time I just never found the need to give attention to subjects I found irrelevant. Why bother? What use did I have for all of this repetitive drivel? "Fuck it all" I thought, "I'll give a shit when I need to give a shit. Till then I'm going to sleep". And so I did. Suffice it to say that at some point, it was commonplace for me to be greeted by jovial calls of "Wake up!" or "You awake?!" and other variations of that sort. I left behind a legacy of apathy and failure, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't at least slightly proud of it. "Damn the man!", so on and so forth.

But it's not as if I'm devoid of dreams and aspirations. My parents would certainly claim so, but it's completely untrue. I have my share of hopes for my future. I too, have dreams of being an accomplished and recognized writer, being published and opening the minds of many, along with the oh-so-many of my fellow twenty-somethings. Call it what you will; a trend, a cliche, or a motif for this miserable generation, but there you have it. We are who we are, and we want what we want.

But who am I now? Where have I come since those days spent in drug addled naps at the back of every classroom? Not far, I think. I can't say I've changed much, as I certainly don't regret anything up to this point. But It's certainly not as far as I'd like to have come. In December, I'll be 22 years old. A friend once told me that "age is just an arbitrary measure of time" and it's changed the way I've thought about getting older ever since. Certainly, I'm not who I thought I would be at this point in time, but so what? Why does that really matter? Who we are, and what we've achieved or accomplished at any point in time, in reality, is completely irrelevant. We place so much pressure on ourselves to reach these heights that we lose sight of simply taking things as they are, and delving deeper to understand who we are now, instead of brooding endlessly on who we hope to become.

Regardless of what I may or may not have achieved, I am mostly content with the person I am now. It's certainly taken me a considerable amount of time to reach this point, but there you have it. I am who I am, and I'm going to do what I do. Eventually, maybe, just maybe, I'll end up crossing off a few of my to-do's, but if not, so be it.

Bling me up Scotty

2009-07-16T06:17:00.000-07:00

I take off my shoes. Take my laptop out of it's carrier. Take off my sweater and then load everything onto the conveyor belt. I forget to take off my ring, the one and only piece of jewelry that I've gotten from a guy that I haven't hated or lost. It's my Tiffany ring that Dan got me for our first Christmas together.

I'm the type of person who doesn't wear a lot of jewelry, mainly because I forget to put it on before I leave the house. If you see me out and I'm wearing earrings, or better yet, a necklace, that's a miracle and I probably had 2 hours to get ready. My Tiffany ring, however, stays on my finger at all times. When I don't have it on, I have a mini panic attack until I find it and it's back where it belongs.

This is the ring. It's unassuming, but classic. And best of all, it doesn't give me a rash like cheap jewelry does.

So I'm at airport security. I have everything packed neatly in their bins or loaded onto the belt except my ring. Right before I'm set to walk through the magical doorway to my destination, I realize that my ring is still on and I say to the airport guy, "Oh! I forgot to take off my ring. Will it make the alarm go off?"

He looked at my hand and said, "Giiiiiiirl. You got to have more bling than that to set anything off!"

Ouch.

Hear that Dan? I got to have more bling!

I'm not ready to get old

2009-07-12T11:15:00.000-07:00

So as some of you know, I've been out in Baltimore for the past week and a half keeping my mom company while my brother's recovering from his overdose. It's been a good visit and I've been helping her take care of the tedious stuff that most people don't want to think about when they have a kid in the hospital.

Every time I visit Baltimore, I return home with more than I came with. Sometimes we go shopping at the cute little boutiques in the cute little neighborhoods, but more often, my mom goes through her closets and bookshelves and I end up with some really cute clothes that didn't fit after she purchased them online, or books that she has duplicates of laying around.

This is what I've looted from Baltimore so far.3 cute shirts (one from a store, two from my mom's closet), pajama pants, and a few books, including one by a professor at Johns Hopkins about the famous people who suffer from bipolar disorder (what my brother has) and how it contributes to their creativeness.

Today, while rummaging through my suitcase for my bathing suit, I also found THESE.
They were tucked inconspicuously between a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, as a surprise present from my mom.

Immediately, I yelled upstairs, "What are these giant underwear doing in my suitcase??"

Mom: They're not giant underwear! They're control top panties! I bought them to wear at so and so's wedding and they cut off my circulation. They'll probably fit you though.

Me: Silence

Mom: I didn't even wear them. They might look stupid, but I bet you end up using them!

Me: Silence

Mom: I also have a black pair, if you like those.

I thought I would have at least had one or two children before I started needing underwear that looks like it's from the 50's but feels like a medieval torture device. The funny (sad?) part is that I'll probably wear them, especially since it's summer and too hot for the control top pantyhose I already own.

Gay Andrew, I'm going to get you back

2009-07-10T08:22:00.000-07:00

Last night I was verbally assaulted by a gay man. As soon as I met Andrew, my mom's ex co-worker, I knew I was in for it. Right off the bat he said something outrageous, looked over his shoulder, then leaned in to all of us and whispered, "That's the priest from my church behind us." and giggled like a school girl.

I've been on a man-hunt for my mom since I was probably 7. She always picks the wrongs guys (in my opinion) and now that she's in her mid-40's, more than ever, I want her to find someone to grow old and travel all over the world with. I even had her set up a Match.com profile, but that's a whole other post in itself. Truthfully, I want my mom to be happy AND I don't want her to try move in with me and Dan when she's in her 60's, my brother is out of the house and she has nothing else to do!

Andrew didn't like the cute guy I pointed out for my mom who was sitting at the bar alone, because he had an invisible bald spot, his shirt said AFFLICTED on the back, and, according to Andrew, this guy's nose looked like the Wicked Witch of the West's. (His nose was totally normal). My mom chimed in with, "I don't need anyone who's already afflicted. I have my own problems!" *eye roll*

As I was justifying my choice to the group, Andrew cut me off and yelled "Clearance Item! You're discontinued!" in my face. I just sat there stunned. What kind of a comeback can you use for that one?! If you think of one, let me know because I'll use it next time I see him.

After being hurled an insult that could have fit snugly in the movie Romy and Michele's High School Reunion, I discovered a new drink to drown my sorrows in. It's delicious and fruity, but doesn't leave a film in your mouth afterwards: Peach Vodka and Iced Tea. Imagine drinking a Snapple Peach Iced Tea, and getting drunk off of it. YUM.

I am also now the proud owner of a Twizzler pen (Andrew's peace offering to me after calling me a clearance item...). It looks exactly like what it sounds. A twizzler, that you can write with. I can't wait to get a full-time job so I can bring it to work on my first day and impress everyone.

And here's a tribute to one of the greatest movies ever made.

All in the family

2009-07-07T20:24:00.000-07:00

A conversation between myself and two of my mom's sisters regarding their sons who live down the street from me and who are both in their early 20's. One aunt has voiced her concern before about my ability to drink (which is hardly at all now that I'm funemployed and funembroke) and when stories of some of my wild nights out come up, she looks horrified and "etches them in her brain" (her words) so she can use them against me later.

Aunt #1: Do you think Alex (her son) has a drinking problem?

Aunt #2: Oh no! Do you think Sam (her son) does?

Me: Whaaaat? No way. They don't drink any more than I do!

That must have been the wrong answer because they both stared at me in silence and blinked a few times before moving on.

*For the record, I think I was drinking a glass of lactose free milk at the time of this conversation. I mean, if I REALLY had a problem it would have been a Sparkletini, and I waited until lunch for that.

Was it something I said?

2009-07-02T22:50:00.000-07:00

Warning: If you don't like gushy posts then don't read this.

I came up with a new nickname for Dan last week, and I've been using it every chance I get. His last name is Peat (Is that too much to divulge on the internet? Probably not, since most everyone who reads this knows Dan). Anyway, I now call him PEATY PIE! (Instead of sweetie pie, get it?)

It's much cuter when you say it out loud. In the written word, it sort of reminds me of meat pie and that doesn't have the same ring to it.

Every time I use it he tries to say he hates it, but he also laughs.

Actions speak louder than words PEATY PIE. Much louder.

Haven't lost my touch

2009-06-21T09:44:00.001-07:00

My mom and brother moved to Baltimore right around the time I turned 20, which means my brother Zac was 13. Because they moved when he was a teenager and when I was moving away to go to Columbia for college, I missed out on a lot of brother/sister harassing.

I didn't miss out on THAT much though. When Zac was around 5 he used to do something called "the leech" in which he would grab onto my leg and not let go until I was near tears from frustration or my mom made him. If my mom wasn't home, I was doomed. You could drag him through mud puddles, you could run him into the wall or the leg of a table (not that I ever did that...) and he would hold on like his life depended on it. It was ridiculous and annoying, and virtually anything I ever did back to him had little to no effect on him, except for my story of Zacarella.

Zacarella was our sister who came along before Zac. She was three years older than him and she's now buried under the cherry tree behind our house. She died mysteriously one day after she was being a horrible brat and refusing to listen to me. Yes, I know that's morbid and totally inappropriate to tell a little kid, but I was 12 and it gave me a moment's peace...for about 3 minutes, until he forgot what I had just told him. All I had to do to remind him though was point to the grave under the tree where my puppy (that my grandma accidentally ran over) was buried.

Isn't that what brothers and sisters are put on this earth to do? Traumatize each other?

Today I found myself falling back into our old pattern. Zac wouldn't get out of bed, not even for Einstein Brother's bagels! This was putting a huge a kink in our day because we had planned on going to the pool. So as I was getting ready for the beach in the bathroom, that just happens to share a wall with his bedroom, I started belting out Beyonce's Halo. If you know that song, you how hard it is to sing even if you're a GOOD singer. I am only a mediocre singer. I can carry a tune...but I could never bring it farther than the local karaoke bar and back.

The chorus is the only part of the song I know so I kept repeating it over and and over. After the third time, I heard a loud groan, the door to Zac's room opened and he shuffled downstairs. Point Leah!

I'm 24 now and he's 17. He doesn't try to attach himself to my hip anymore. In fact, to him all a big sister is good for is to buy beer and provide a place to visit when he needs a break from our mom. It's good to know even though I can't threaten him with his dead sister whose name conveniently sounds like his, I still got it. Tomorrow, if he won't get up for summer school, I'm going to try Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

I call this picture "Nerd and Ken Doll." It's probably three years old but it's one of my favorite pictures of my brother and me.

P.S. I wonder if my songbird wake up call will work on my boyfriend too?

The forehead stache

2009-06-10T10:51:00.000-07:00

Because I don't have any new content to post today, I decided to post an encyclopedia entry that I wrote when I participated in the Mustache-a-thon 2009 for 826chi.org. I chose to write about the unibrow, a.k.a. the forehead stache.
The Unibrow
Commonly known as the unibrow, monobrow, and medically known as a synophrys, the forehead mustache is an abundant clumping of hair that, unlike the traditional mustache, does not discriminate between male or female. In fact, 6 percent of all people with unibrows are reportedly female (according to the Los Angeles Center for Follicle Related Trauma). Although the forehead stache does not have the “cool factor” associated with some mustaches, including the fu man chu or the handlebar, the forehead stache has played an integral part in not only the history of the world, but also the shaping of our childhoods.

Famous forehead mustache wearers throughout history:
The forehead stache has been worn by many famous people, both good an evil. Most notably, Frida Khalo, a famous Mexican artist who painted about her agony, which can partly be traced back to her unfortunate profusion of facial hair. Other famous forehead mustache flaunters include Bert, from the classic duo, Bert and Ernie, who has has taught millions of children the world over their favorite childhood songs…and also a lesson here or there in humility. Then there’s Groundskeeper Willie, fictional yes, but does that make him any less important to this entry? No. Willie and his unibrow showed us that you can be confident and morally corrupt, despite having what is almost the equivalent to a facial deformity. Last but not least, probably the most famous person on this list, is Madonna’s daughter Lourdes. Her unibrow shows us that although you can buy beauty, a little girl should stay a little girl, even if that means putting off waxing appointments for a few more years.

Benefits
Benefits of owning a forehead stache include, diverting sand that may or may not have been headed for your eyeballs, saving money and time on hair removal, and always looking angry and intimidating.

Disadvantages
Disadvantages include weird looks, eyebrow acne, obstruction of vision, and a diminishing sex life.

Resources:
If you have a unibrow or are thinking of letting yourself go, please visit www.dealingwithaunibrow.org for more information.

Office space

2009-06-07T20:37:00.000-07:00

I should clarify. The mean comments that are always left on my blog by a Dan Dan Dan are from my friend Dan Hogan, not my boyfriend Dan who I always write about. I say friend loosely, because he's only ever mean to me. I really only keep him around because I like his girlfriend who is waaaaay cooler than him.

Moving on.

I'm no longer working for the Ballet Co. Not because I don't love the ballet, but because it turns out getting hung up on 20 times a night is NOT worth seeing free ballets like I thought it would be. Instead, I'm taking on more freelance work to make up for the ballet co. income, including helping get this product into stores and into the hands of parents, teachers, caregivers, etc...

It's a cute product, but more than cute, it's useful. Can't spend time with your kids all day? Write them a note. Stick it in their backpack. Pack it in their lunch when you drop them off at the babysitter's house. You get the picture. So, if you're reading this, and you have children and want to try out the product, let me know. I'll get some samples for you. All I need in return is your honest feedback. Because seriously, if the product isn't going to sell, I'd like to know that before I start trying to sell it!

I'm setting up an office space in my room and needed a little inspiration. Since I can't paint the wall, I decided the next best thing would be a wall decal. I agonized over what to buy because I didn't want something from urban outfitters that everyone already owns. Then I found it. The perfect decal. I showed it to Dan (my boyfriend, not my mean friend) and he purchased it for me on the spot! Thanks puddin'.

Here's the decal. I'm hoping it will help cultivate some creative ideas...and if it doesn't, well at least it's cute.

Watch out ladies

2009-06-05T10:00:00.001-07:00

I'm so excited to be going to a wedding this weekend. If you've been reading this blog as long as I've been writing it, you KNOW my history with catching the bouquet. I am ruthless and live for this kind of shit. I even jumped in front of a 9 yr old British girl one time to catch it: My cousin Jacob's wedding, Cape Cod, circa 2008.

I'm not proud of this behavior, and I immediately tried to give the bouquet to the 9 yr old, but she wouldn't take it, probably because even at her young age she knows second hand bouquets are tainted. It's a girl thing.

It's especially wonderful that I hardly know any of the girls I'll be competing with for the bouquet, so I won't feel bad when one of them accidentally gets an elbow in the eye, or goes home with a chunk of hair missing...

Am I longing for my own wedding? Not quite. I'd love to get married someday, but not anytime soon. I think the best part of catching the bouquet is seeing Dan's face afterward as I coyishly say, "Guess who's next?" and wave the flowers in his face. :) That face alone is worth almost breaking a heel, or my face.

This is my friend Michelle who tried to steal a bouquet from me at our friend Lindsay's wedding. I call this picture, "Bitch tryin'a steal my future." We aren't friends anymore. (Just kidding!)

Beep! Beep!

2009-06-04T10:33:00.001-07:00

Today is "Toot your own horn day." Didn't you know that?

So I've decided to lay on the horn. Here it goes.

I have been officially laid off from my corporate salaried job for 1.5 (almost 2) months. In these (almost) two months, I've collected unemployment and worked part time at the Joffrey Ballet. Even though my unemployment checks are waaaaay less than what I made at my marketing job (which wasn't that much to begin with) I am still able to:

Pay my rent in full and ON TIME
Pay all my bills (including that one hefty credit card bill that I like to pretend doesn't exist)
Go out to see a movie or have a drink every once in a while
Buy a pair of yellow loafers when they are on sale (and when another pair of free shoes is promised with purchase)

AND, I haven't had to ask my Mom for money yet, although Mom, if you're reading this and you are SO proud of my current money management skills that you gave me some to add to my savings, I probably wouldn't refuse it.

This is a good feeling. The only thing stopping me from quitting my job previously to focus on my own creative efforts was the impending doom of my own ventures not working out. You wouldn't think it, but being laid off has given me more confidence in my own talents. It's shown me that I CAN stand on my own two feet. That I can talk to clients and lead them in certain directions and that they're willing to listen to my ideas and why I think they'll work. I've also found out that I'm willing to work my butt off to get something worthwhile out of this brain of mine that was underutilized before.

That's why I've decided that if a full-time job comes up, then great. But if it doesn't, I'm okay with that. I'm okay with working part time, and freelancing to supplement the money so that I can do what I've wanted to do for the past year, which is start my greeting card company.

This is it. I have decided, TODAY, that I'm going to do whatever it takes to get this card company off the ground. I have the cards written. I have the ideas flowing. I just need someone to draw them. Someone with a quirky style. Someone whose personality meshes with mine and who won't make my cards look like they should be sold at a local Kum and Go.

If you know of anyone who fits this description, let me know. If I have to take out a business loan to pay them, I will, because Callous Cards is happening and I'm not letting it die like I have so many times before.

Did I mention that since being laid off I lost 6 lbs, without even realizing it? I've been working out with a personal trainer to keep that stress weight off and to tone up. Pretty soon, my office ass is going to turn into my beach ass. It may be a stretch, but I'd say a beach ass is a pretty good consequence of losing your job.

Take me to Germany!

2009-05-13T09:44:00.001-07:00

Dan is going to Germany for work sometime this summer. He got the approval today. It's been in the works for awhile, and the whole time I've been working tirelessly to get him to take me along. Mainly because I was in such a drunken haze when I was in Germany a few years back that I don't remember anything except

A giant clock
Drinking with some Australians, one of whom had cheated on his baby momma 8 times on their European trip
Drinking beer (which I don't even like) out of a stein the size of my head
Walking around Dachau Concentration camp hungover

So I was thinking, if Dan takes me with, he can do all the boring work stuff during the day, and I can sight see and take pictures all day. By myself. Sober.

My roommate's girlfriend takes him on all of her work trips, OR she'll go and get the work stuff out of the way and then my roommate will show up at the end of the trip and they'll spend a weekend together in some fun place that's not Chicago. I'm fine with a weekend trip to Germany. I'm also fine with paying for my own ticket...or begging for it as a birthday present.

But Dan just won't relent. He's nervous because it's his first work trip. He's going with only one other guy, and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'll screw with his male bonding time. What he doesn't realize is that I don't want to go to Germany because I want to be attached to him at the hip. I want to go to Germany to SEE Germany! Especially if he goes to Berlin, which I didn't get to see at all. NO, I wasn't passed out on the train...we only had time to go to Munich.

Dan's favorite thing to say is, "What do you want? I'll make it happen!"

I want:
To wear a dirndl
To learn to yodel
To eat sauerkraut and bratwurst
To learn to be more efficient
To laugh at dodgy facial hair
To feel like a troll around 7ft tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed women

Did I miss any stereotypes? Just because it's not on the list, doesn't mean I don't want it!

If we all work on him together, with a little bra stuffing, I should look like THIS come June. Okay...with A LOT of bra stuffing.

Me and Telemarketing

2009-05-04T12:41:00.000-07:00

You know the people that call you when you're having dinner with your family, or right when you're just about to get laid?

That's ME.

I am now a telemarketer with a fancy "sales" title.

I joined a subscription campaign for a ballet company to make a little extra money while I'm laid off. I thought it would be easy. I mean, I'm calling people who OBVIOUSLY love the ballet or they wouldn't have donated, or subscribed last year, or bought tickets in the past...right?

I couldn't have been more wrong.

All I have to say is that if you want to be in sales, you have to be good at handling rejection! I have been hung up on at this job more times than during fights with all of my past boyfriends combined. I've been yelled at for calling at unreasonable times. Do NOT call the elderly past 8pm. I repeat DO NOT do it. I've also been traumatized. You try calling someone who has recently died and filing their name into a "deceased" folder and see how YOU feel!

Even though this sounds like the worst job in the world, it's really exciting when you do talk to someone who loves ballet and is SO HAPPY to hear from you, although that is a rare occasion. Not to mention the best perk of all. I only work 4 hours a day, and I get to see the ballet for FREE. Being a former dancer, it's like watching my dreams being played out on stage. Plus, gay or not, male ballet dancers have some of the best bodies in the world!

I guess I've come to the realization that watching the ballet, working on a floor where dancers constantly visit to talk to the photographer or people in the marketing department, and seeing the closing performance of the 2008-2009 ballet season for free is totally worth being up on...at least for now.

Last niiiiiight, she said

2009-04-26T12:47:00.000-07:00

I was in a bit of a rut. I didn't know what I wanted to do last night, or if I even wanted to go out at all. I knew I didn't want to drink until the wee hours of the morning because the night before Linda and I ended up in the basement of strangers looking at a mural of the nativity scene painted on their walls from the 70's, while I tried to explain the story to them, which they were not interested in hearing.

Deciding to forego the alcohol, in an attempt to have a calm saturday night meant that I had no idea what to do instead. It's sad that the only obvious option for a Saturday night is to go out and drink. The other options being to go see a movie or go bowling? There isn't a movie out right now that I'm DYING to see, and bowling just didn't sound appealing.

So Dan, being the smart guy that he is suggested we go buy a movie and watch it. It's the same investment we'd make if we went to see a movie, and this way we get to watch the movie more than once. I was hesitant because the only movie I wanted was Pinocchio and I knew he wasn't going to want to spend his saturday night watching a Disney movie. I decided to acquiesce anyway, and off we went to the magical land of all things electronic known as Best Buy.

There were a ton of $5 movies and we (or I should say Dan) ended up buying

TAPS
Tank Girl
Pinocchio
The Wrestler
Lost in Translation

And on an impulse Dan decided to buy an Xbox 360. I had about 7 reactions to this.

1. We don't need another video game consul. We already have a Playstation 2 sans controllers AND it plays DVDS!!
2. Great, now Dan's going to spend all of his free time playing Lego Indiana Jones (a game that came with the Xbox)
3. Great, now I'm going to get hooked on Kung Fu Panda (the other game that came with it).
4. He crushes all my vacation dreams because he doesn't have money, but he has an extra $300 laying around for an Xbox?
5. I am not pitching in for this wildly unneccessary purchase.
6. Dan is as crazy about video/computer games as I am about shoes.
7. Is he still buying me Pinocchio if he buys this Xbox? (Don't worry, he did.)

As you can see, I wasn't thrilled about the purchase, but THEN I found out that you can watch movies from your Netflix queue through the Xbox! That is amazing! I've had a Netflix account for probably 2 years and have maybe watched 12 movies from it, i.e. it's been a total waste of money. Now, I won't have to worry about mailing my movies back! There are, of course, some movies that you can't watch instantly, but already I'm set to watch Blame it on Fidel...on Xbox!

I love technology, but not as much as you you see, but I still love technology. Always and forever. Always and forever.

I'm in Miami Trick!

2009-04-22T09:22:00.001-07:00

The title of this post is from a song that you heard EVERYWHERE in Miami. The actual words are "I'm in Miami Bitch!" but I guess the radio version is "trick." You could also buy shirts with that slogan on it. I wanted one, but then I thought, well if I wear it in Chicago, I'll either look like an asshole OR like I'm lost. Here's the video.

Anyway, that video makes Miami look like it's full of hipsters and Asian women with plastic boobs. I was surprised to see that almost all of the implants were had by people working in the bars/clubs in Miami, not people on the beach. Miami is actually filled with short, foreign/latino, and old men, who conveniently all drive cars that I've only ever seen on TV and who almost all own their own restaurants, bars, or are "self-made" millionaires. At least those are the stories I heard when going out. The absolute very WORST part about Miami is having to act interested in these guys in order to get free drinks. Did I mention a plain ol' vodka and cranberry cost about $12 at just about any bar you went to? Well they did.

Here's the crew I went to Miami with.
Andrea and Tiffany are both head-turning girls that I used to work with at Pepper Global, and Drew is a hilarious and adorable gay guy, who I had only met one time before Miami.

We earned ourselves the name Dr. Drew and the Fruit Flies from a Mr. Christopher from New Yawk. I didn't get it at first, but then I realized...gay men are sometimes called fruity and we did cling to Drew, especially when we were out. We loved that name so much, we brought it back to Chicago with us, unlike some stories that will remain untold.

Drew, although he's 6'2'' is less than threatening. One reason, I'm so grateful we met these two guys. Meet Chris and Charlie (who I called Chaaaahlie) from New York.
We met them while being loud and obnoxious on our hotel balcony the first night and ended up staying up until 7 am drinking with them. They turned into our vacation buddies and over the next 3 or 4 days took us to bars we didn't know about. They looked out for us. They were fun (not to mention cute) and best of all, they weren't grabby or pushy like 99% of the men in Miami!

Having a boyfriend while you're in Miami (without your boyfriend) and with two other girls who draw attention like flies to honey, and who are both single, is just about the most awkward thing in the world. Do you tell people you have a boyfriend and suck it up and pay for your own drinks? Can you dance with other guys without feeling guilty? Where's the flirting line and how do you know when you've crossed it? I had no idea, so I just went with the flow. I have to admit though, it was a huge relief to hang out with guys that I didn't have to worry about that with.

Moving on. Our hotel was the Royal Palm.
This picture really makes that palm tree look really regal don't ya think? Our room was cramped with four of us sharing two double beds. And our "partial ocean view" was almost ruined by the fact that our balcony was so small that all four of us couldn't stand comfortably on it. The fact that it was RIGHT on the beach, however, and right in the middle of two shopping areas and tons of restaurants made up for the room, which we weren't in that much anyway.

On to the bars and the sites.
The first night we went to Louis, a baroque themed bar. That was our first real Miami experience and it went just like one would expect. They wouldn't let Drew in because he had flip flops on so he had to (literally) run back to our hotel and change his shoes, Andrea's camera got stolen, and a little person danced on the bar dress liked a soldier.
Then, we met a guy from Brazil (who owned a restaurant of course) and who grabbed your neck every time he talked to you.
He's the one on the left. Tiffany got so angry at him that she essentially put him in a headlock and said, "How do YOU like it? Do it again and I'll cut you!" Hahaha. Hearing her tell this muscly Brazilian man with "short guy syndrome" that she'd cut him was priceless.

Night #2
Hmmm...my mind is playing tricks on me. I'm trying to piece together our nights, but after the first night, they're starting to blur together! I can remember what dress I wore, and I can remember that at least part of the night we spent it with the NY boys, but I can't remember all the bars we went to. Maybe because this was the night I passed out after eating pizza and puking on my beautiful purple satin shoes.

Here's what I think happened. It started with sushi.
Then we went to Mokai and the Delano Hotel, which Drew missed because he drank so much at dinner that he passed out by midnight!

Night #3
Another Saturday night and I ain't got no money...seriously, I don't even want to think about how much money I spent on this trip...especially since I'm only working part time right now and that part time job started TODAY.

We began at a gay bar named Twist. Here are a few pictures from that night...I wore my salsa dress and it's a good thing I did because they had a salsa room! If you look closely at the first picture, yes...that is this guy's penis hanging out of his underwear with studs on it. YIKES!
Some of the men here were so much fun I didn't want to leave, but somehow even the pushy straight guys found their way into this bar. Another Brazilian man (this one had his own AIRPLANE) thought Andrea had given him a fake phone # (which she did at first...hehe) and he made her show him her phone. He must be used to being rejected. Overall though, this was probably the most fun bar. I mean where else can you see guys walk around in underwear without feeling guilty about it! Well, you can at the beach, but that's mostly because the guys in their underwear on the beach are almost away 60, with giant bellies covered in white fur!

This night ended at the Delano Hotel again. There's something about drinking on a bed outside next to a pool that's not only calming but also makes you feel way cooler than you really are. We were home by 3 and I started to notice a trend that our nights were ending earlier and earlier.

Example: Thursday night ended at 7 am.
Friday night ended at 5 am.
Saturday night ended at 3 am.
Sunday night ended at 2 am.
Monday night around 1 am.

Night #4
Although Sunday night ended pretty early, we packed a lot into this night. Dinner, a hookah lounge with the NY boys
Wet Willies (a bar that boasted drinks with names like, "call a cab" and "attitude improvement") and Love Hate, the bar that Ami from Miami Ink owns. He wasn't there, but it was hip hop night and it was one of the most fun (straight) bars I think I went to the whole time. The decor was dark and ominous. The people were rockers and covered in tattoos, and the drinks were only $8!!! I needed to be revived after finding that one out. We also saw Versace's house where he was murdered.*
*Disclaimer: This is not outside Versace's house, although it's really close!

Later this same night, I fell walking back to the hotel on the beach. I don't know who let me climb around on some rocks, but the next day my elbow and foot were really scraped up, making me look like I had just been in a minor motorcycle accident, or at least like I had fallen off my bicycle after my mom took the training wheels off. I think that next time I drink, I'll have her put them back on.

P.S. check out sunburned me with this car! I don't remember taking this picture AT ALL. I was wondering why I didn't get yelled at for touching that gorgeous car, but then I realized that there is a fake person sitting in it. I still don't know the story behind this, but I'm going to find out...later...
And last but not least was Monday night. By Monday all four of us were rock lobsters and just plain worn out. No one had the urge to get drunk, except Drew because he slept through our Sunday night shenanigans, and most of us had run out of money to spend! Monday we sadly said goodbye to the NY boys and laid by the pool drinking the most amazing drink ever invented. It's called a dreamsicle and it's made with Bacardi O, orange juice, and ice cream blended with ice. Then we did a little shopping and ended our night rehashing our trip while dipping our feet in the pool. I can't think of a better way to have ended our trip, except for just not ending it at all.

Look at that water! I had so much fun the last 5 days that being in Chicago right now doesn't even feel right. My apartment seems dingier than when I left and my bank account seems much smaller, although THAT'S not an illusion, but instead a sad little fact. I know it's just wanderlust and I'll get over it, but until I do, I guess I'll just keep staring at pictures of the magnificent beach that I lived on for 5 days. Miss you My-ami.

How to make yourself feel better after a layoff

2009-04-14T21:10:00.000-07:00

1. Buy a new purse.

2. Get your hair done courtesy of your mother...Thanks Mom!

3. Whine about how you haven't received your T-Mobile rebate from when you bought your BlackBerry 3 MONTHS ago, then miraculously find it in the empty mailbox that the mail carrier likes to dump mail in when she doesn't feel up to the task of sorting.

4. Go on a shopping spree with your rebate! A $100 Visa gift card to be exact. (Yes, I realize that you can't really go on "spree" with only $100...but you'd be surprised how far that much money will get you at H&M!) Just to be clear, that dress is from Forever 21, not H&M, but it'll do. IT WILL DO.

5. Get a part time job doing sales and marketing for the Joffrey Ballet. Anytime you're feeling sad, you can now take a discounted dance class or see a show for FREE! Did I mention being employed so soon after being laid off makes you feel a lot less worthless?

6. Workout, workout, workout. (This really just means keep busy in general)

7. Top it all off with a trip to Miami with some pretty fun and spastic people. 6 days, 5 nights, etc...etc...
I. Can't. Wait. Although a small part of me wishes that I was taking a romantic vacation with Dan, I know it will still be ridiculously fun, and absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? I'm looking forward to making up for my absence when I get back. I'm ALSO looking forward to coming home and NOT looking like I've spent the last 8 months underground in a damp cave.

Lazy Sunday

2009-03-29T11:05:00.001-07:00

What should I do today?

Dan is at the Michigan State vs. Louisville game in Indiana so I have the day to myself to do whatever I want! I just have to make sure I know how the game ends. I will never understand the dedication that men feel towards sports teams, but I have learned that a little baked macaroni and cheese and a sympathetic ear to listen to how they got "robbed" and why they should have won appeases them for at least a little while. :)

I need to catch up on some freelance social media for PenPal Notes so I can make money for my trip to MI-A-MI. We're staying at the Royal Palm Hotel and I can't freaking wait. I even watched a travel show on Miami last night at 1am while Dan slept away next to me. If you've been to Miami before and there are places we HAVE to go, let me know!

I need to clean my room (seriously). I'd take a picture, but it's too embarrassing. My thing lately has been this: Do laundry, put it in dryer, throw clean clothes in a laundry basket or on my floor. Now I can't tell what's clean and what's not. I've said this since I was 16...I can't have a baby until I can keep my room clean for longer than a week. So far...not so good.

I was contemplating going to the gym, but Chicago decided to play a mean trick on its residents and go from 60 degree weather last week, to snowing this weekend. I don't think it's funny. The jig is up Chicago. I need nice weather to motivate me to go to the gym, and if you're not consistent, I won't be either!

I also need to start making my picture frames and headbands. It was one of my resolutions to do a craft project, so for some inspiration I went to a craft supply show yesterday put on by the Craft Mafia, where tons of Chicago crafters set up booths and sold all of their craft supplies that they aren't using. I bought a beautiful sheet of paper that looks like orange peacock leather and two plastic bags filled with fabric scraps for a picture frame project I'm going to start, and a plastic ziploc bag filled with trimming that I'm going to use to make headbands. I could start on those, but I don't have the elastic I need so...eh.

Maybe I'll just start at the top, work my way down, and see what happens.

What would you do with your lazy sunday?

I SUCK

2009-03-26T14:30:00.000-07:00

Last night I ate pizza, breaking my detox in about a thousand ways since it had goat cheese, bacon, and a pizza crust. It was delicious though. I only regret it a little. I also had ONE cranberry vodka although it's questionable that the vodka was even in the drink! I couldn't taste it at all.

Today I'm back on the wagon and looking forward to eating this tonight!!

Sweet and hot noodles with tofu

My roommate Dominic and his girlfriend Jackie are cooking and a few other friends are coming over. I hope someone brings a fruit salad. Is that a weird thing to wish for? I haven't had any fruit today and I'm craving it!

While you weren't looking

2009-03-22T20:28:00.001-07:00

This is hard for me to admit, but I am a cheater. Not a big cheater, but if there are little things I can get away with, or there's an easier way to do something, I will...I guess you could say I'm a corner cutter?

I've been this way since I was little. If my grandma and I were playing Monopoly and she went into the other room to get us some hot chocolate, I'd slip myself a couple of extra $5 bills. ($5s, not $20s! I'm not RUTHLESS). If we were playing Go Fish and I could see her cards, I wouldn't tell her (although I think she let me see them anyway).

That being said, here are the things I've eaten while detoxing that are NOT detox worthy, but I put my Pogliano spin to work and was able to justify them so I wouldn't feel guilty. Justify them to who, you ask? To myself. I'm really good at convincing myself of things.

Anyway!

Whitefish broiled in lemon pepper and olive oil (Justification: I was in Paw Paw and my boyfriend's mom told me to eat it.)

A BUTTERY poppyseed roll (Justification: I was planning on running on the treadmill and thought I'd need the energy to burn off. I didn't run but it was still worth it!)

Stuffed mushroom soup (Justification: I thought this was going to be okay, but when it came to our table it was a little creamy and had bacon in it. It smelled delicious and since I ordered it, I had to eat it!)

Four Jelly Belly jelly beans (Justification: I wanted them, and it was only FOUR!)

Pad See Ewe (It's questionable whether this is detox approved. It's made with rice noodles, broccoli, pea pods, and I ordered tofu instead of chicken. The only problem is the sauce is salty and a lot of salt is not allowed. Justification: I drank a TON of water that night to counteract the salt.)

Here's what I've eaten that was detox approved and EASY to buy or make

Fried plaintains
Cut the plaintains diagonally, cover the bottom of the frying pan w/ olive oil or vegetable oil, fry pieces on both sides until brown, let them sit on a paper towel covered plate for a few minutes before serving (So easy and delicious! You can sprinkle them with powdered sugar if you're not detoxing).

Lots and lots of water with fresh squeezed lemons. I used to never get lemon in my water at restaurants, but I'm starting to like it now.

Fruit! Bananas, Apples, Raspberries, Strawberries

Veggies! Asparagus & Broccoli are staples in my apt anyway, so this wasn't a big adjustment

Meatless, shell-less taco salad
Lettuce is the base, then add black beans instead of meat, corn, avocado, tomato, and salsa

Voila!

One other thing, if you try the recipe for sweet chili lime tofu that I listed below, make a little extra sauce that you can pour on the tofu after it's cooked. It was delicious but a little sauce would have went a long way!

P.S. To get me through this detox I keep thinking two things. A) Stop being such a baby. Some people LIVE like this and eat healthy all the time! and B) I am going to Miami in 3 weeks and have to wear a...bathing...suit...

-Leah

Dinner recipes and a love bug

2009-03-17T20:18:00.000-07:00

I made a super easy (and tasty) dinner tonight:
Stir fry vegetable mix from Whole Foods (cooked in veggie oil with some chopped garlic)
Thai Kitchen rice noodles (Follow the directions on the back of the box!)
Add soy sauce to taste--I mixed it in with the noodles and added some to the veggies as they cooked
Sprinkle with Flax seeds (these don't really taste like anything but they are super nutritious)
I also cut up some tomatoes and put them on top

Sorry for the lack of photo. I was so eager to eat, I forgot to take one!

I already had the soy sauce in my fridge. The rest of this meal cost me about $6 and took about 8 minutes to make.

Detoxing is easy!

For dinner tomorrow:

Sweet Chili Lime Tofu with Steamed Collards and Quinoa

Read the recipe here. It also sounds super easy! (Especially if you're like me and decide to leave all the optional ingredients out)

Just in case it's more difficult than expected, my roommate and I are going to make it together. Luckily I have one roommate who is a vegetarian and really excited about my detox, one roommate who likes to try new things, meat or no meat, and one who just wants me to be happy, even if he likes meat more than he likes...hair bands!

Speaking of my meat loving, hair band loving boyfriend, today is sort of our two year anniversary. It's actually two years to the day Dan and I first kissed. We've been together ever since but don't celebrate our anniversary until May when he asked me to "officially" be his girlfriend.

When we DO hit two years, it will be my first two year anniversary not tainted by a breakup, or cheating or anything else catastrophic to a relationship. What can I say? Even with two states between us for the first year and half of our relationship, he's made it easy (and absolutely wonderful) to be with him.

This is us about a year ago in Vegas. I'm still bitter that I didn't buy those sunglasses. Happy fake anniversary Dan! I promise you will get your own post when we celebrate our real anniversary.

shut up! shut up! shut up!

2009-03-17T08:56:00.001-07:00

Day one of detox has commenced and my stomach is being such a baby! I'm fine, but Tum is not! (Tum is my stomach's nickname for the next two weeks so I don't have to write stomach...or worse - belly, or tummy, or whatever). Those words bother me for some reason.

Remember a sentence ago when I said I was fine? I lied. Yesterday I snapped at a coworker, everyone irritated me to the point where I just stopped talking to people, and then in Whole Foods I almost started crying because I couldn't find sesame seeds. Thankfully Dan was with me and steered me to the checkout lane so we could get the hell outta there.

My one consolation is that I know this irrationality/irritability won't last more than three days and then I'll start to feel sprightly and energized, and I might even start being nice to people again! Only if the deserve it though...

Back to Tum. Yesterday at work, for at least the last hour, Tum would not shut up and I wasn't even hungry! I begged and pleaded, even promised to break my detox and give it some lean turkey when I got home, but Tum was a stubborn bastard. I remember this happening last time I detoxed, but this time it seemed 8 times worse! Maybe because it seemed like every time Tum started acting up, the office was completely quiet. Then, while I was watching Intervention with Dan and my cousin, Tum started throwing a tantrum again, only louder. I actually considered openly weeping over the episode (it was a really sad one so it may have been believable!) to cover up the sound. Tum is being a little quieter today, Thank God! Now, if only this headache would go away.

So anyway, in case you are trying to detox too, here's what I ate yesterday. Remember being lazy does not mean your detoxing food can't be tasty!
Snack: Sliced cucumbers with garlic hummus (BTW, Chef Earl's garlic hummus from Whole Foods is the BEST hummus I've ever had IN MY LIFE)

Dinner: Tomato and basil polenta (you can buy it pre-made from most grocery stores) Sliced and cooked in vegetable oil until it's as crispy as you like it
Portobello mushrooms also cooked in a little bit of vegetable oil
I cut up the mushrooms and put them on top of the polenta, then sprinkled it with sliced raw almonds, flax seed, a little bit of sea salt and pepper. Yum!

This picture looks similar to what I made, only mine didn't have sour cream of course and I used nuts and flax seeds instead of beans! Same concept though...

Today I've had pomegranate green tea, and an orange. For lunch, I'm eating the leftovers from yesterday and some more hummus and cucumbers.

The good part about this diet is that it forces you to cook for yourself instead of eating packaged food AND since Dan doesn't like any of the stuff I have to eat on this diet, I always have leftovers for lunch!

Sadly though, this detox also means two separate dinners which is both a hassle and kind of isolating. I know it's only been one day, but I miss the bonding time spent cooking and eating a successful meal together. OH WELL...I guess there are other ways to bond.