I am a relatively trusting individual...okay maybe not, but I have gotten out of the habit of double checking my order every time I get food to go. This past week however has taught me (twice!) to stop having faith in the food industry.
Episode I: Sunday evening, tired from a fun day outdoors in the beautiful weather, I stopped at the Daily for a burger. I placed my order with the friendly bartender (one I hadn't seen before) of a medium bacon cheeseburger with cheddar cheese and tater tots as my side (the ability to order tater tots as a side is one of the main reasons I frequent the Daily so much, that and it's two blocks down the street helps). He repeats my order to me and punches it into the computer. He even brings me a glass of water as I wait (with no request from me). The familiar site of a plastic bag tied up around the take out Styrofoam container shows up and he repeats my order again - burger, medium, cheddar, bacon, tater tots. Yup, I say, smile and head out the door. I get home and open my box of deliciousness to find a bacon cheeseburger and fries?! I am not a huge fan of fries (especially take out, since they get soggy pretty quick) but it's not worth hauling my ass back down to the bar so I dig into my burger instead. It might have been the rarest piece of meat I had ever eaten. Now I can dig a rare steak, but this was hamburger and there is nothing so unappealing as a cold, slightly gummy (as rare cow can get) burger. At this point I'm too tired and bummed out about my food to go back, so I just eat around the part still mooing in the center and nibble at a few of the less clammy fries.
Episode II: Wednesday morning, running late (my theme for this summer) I stop at the Dunkin Donuts in my El station. I get my standard coffee (medium with cream and sugar) and a plain cinnamon raisin bagel. Toss the bagel in my bag and head off to work. About two hours later I pull out the bagel, ready to eat and find that instead of a plain bagel I have a plain bagel, sliced and smothered in a mountain of plain cream cheese. Normally I like cream cheese, but I wasn't expecting it, and after two hours the bagel looked as though it had gotten sort of soggy (which is less than appealing). So I ended up chucking it in the trash and going to the DD by my work to try again.
Frustrating! But I guess now I know to double check all my food.
Post Script - When will I learn?! Episode III: Went to Cosi on Michigan for lunch and got a salad to go. Continued my walk south on Michigan to just next to the Art Institute where there is a nice, shaded fountain area. Opened bag...no fork.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Straight Men
About 90 percent of my good friends here in the Windy City (and across the country for that matter) are in some stage of a relationship. Some in the brand new, lovey-smiley phase, some in the first few years of marriage, and others in the long term-kids-house part. Because of this, and other random factors (such as I am not a huge drinker, I don't have a lot of extra spending money, and I am still working on going out alone at night in the city) I don't spend a lot of time in loud, smoky, Friday/Saturday night bars trying to pick up random objects of the opposite sex. Which is why last Saturday night's exploration into the late night city scene was hugely entertaining for me.
I celebrated my birthday this year by having a fantastic weekend full of events. To start it off there was a large tapas dinner that was loads of fun. Lots of food and even more sangria made the night highly entertaining. As dinner was winding down the group split into those that had to head home and those that felt up to a little more festivities. As I was knee deep in fuzzy sangria land I went along for the festivities ride with no idea where we were headed. A few of the more sober patriots of our entourage (mostly my designated driver and the other person who had lived here more than one year) packed us into the car and headed up to Delilahs. As we headed up to the door and I saw the row of young, posturing, single men I could barely contain my excitement.
Somehow we managed to snag a table near the back, we found a girl who had a whole table to herself and my more vocal party members asked if we could sit there. She happily obliged, and it turns out she was new to the city, out for the night and had no problem with us crashing her table. I stood with my back to the throngs of people pushing past to get to the bathrooms and the bar and proceeded to spend the rest of the evening jamming out and pseudo dancing (this is where one dances in a bar that is not specifically designed for dancing but plays decent enough music that anyone with any sort of rhythm can't help but at least bounce along). It was jukebox night, which meant we were up for anything, but it settled into a decent routine of 2-3 random punk type songs with a good jumpy beat and then some old school funk classics mixed in.
It was standing such as this, with my gin and sangria filled hips shaking along that I re-discovered what it was like to be in a bar on Saturday night. I was quickly able to tell who was behind me by the way they indicated their presence. Girls, when trying to squeeze behind other girls (this all presumes heterosexuality by the way) will lightly place their hand on your back. Kind of that "Hey, I'm back here, please don't step on me suddenly" gesture. Guys on the other hand, will slide their arm/hand around your waist to show you they are entering your personal space. At no point in time did I feel creeped out by this, in fact it was probably wise that they alerted me to their presence otherwise my gin filled dancing moves might have wrecked havoc on them. Instead I found highly entertaining. After months of spending my free time in either coffee shops or gay bars, it was fun to get back into the heterosexual Saturday night dating scene while safely ensconced in my group of friends who would make sure I didn't end up on top of the bar, making out with strangers (which has happened in various points in my life). While I would still rather meet a guy reading with a latte in my lap, I have to admit it was a great way to celebrate the next year of my life.
I celebrated my birthday this year by having a fantastic weekend full of events. To start it off there was a large tapas dinner that was loads of fun. Lots of food and even more sangria made the night highly entertaining. As dinner was winding down the group split into those that had to head home and those that felt up to a little more festivities. As I was knee deep in fuzzy sangria land I went along for the festivities ride with no idea where we were headed. A few of the more sober patriots of our entourage (mostly my designated driver and the other person who had lived here more than one year) packed us into the car and headed up to Delilahs. As we headed up to the door and I saw the row of young, posturing, single men I could barely contain my excitement.
Somehow we managed to snag a table near the back, we found a girl who had a whole table to herself and my more vocal party members asked if we could sit there. She happily obliged, and it turns out she was new to the city, out for the night and had no problem with us crashing her table. I stood with my back to the throngs of people pushing past to get to the bathrooms and the bar and proceeded to spend the rest of the evening jamming out and pseudo dancing (this is where one dances in a bar that is not specifically designed for dancing but plays decent enough music that anyone with any sort of rhythm can't help but at least bounce along). It was jukebox night, which meant we were up for anything, but it settled into a decent routine of 2-3 random punk type songs with a good jumpy beat and then some old school funk classics mixed in.
It was standing such as this, with my gin and sangria filled hips shaking along that I re-discovered what it was like to be in a bar on Saturday night. I was quickly able to tell who was behind me by the way they indicated their presence. Girls, when trying to squeeze behind other girls (this all presumes heterosexuality by the way) will lightly place their hand on your back. Kind of that "Hey, I'm back here, please don't step on me suddenly" gesture. Guys on the other hand, will slide their arm/hand around your waist to show you they are entering your personal space. At no point in time did I feel creeped out by this, in fact it was probably wise that they alerted me to their presence otherwise my gin filled dancing moves might have wrecked havoc on them. Instead I found highly entertaining. After months of spending my free time in either coffee shops or gay bars, it was fun to get back into the heterosexual Saturday night dating scene while safely ensconced in my group of friends who would make sure I didn't end up on top of the bar, making out with strangers (which has happened in various points in my life). While I would still rather meet a guy reading with a latte in my lap, I have to admit it was a great way to celebrate the next year of my life.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Customer Service?
2 months ago I decided that I should have a back up battery for my digital camera. Too often I have had to shut down my camera to save the battery life and only take a few pictures of an event - no more for me!
So I went down the street to my local Ritz camera store and they were nice and helpful. They did not have my battery in stock so they had to special order it, and while it would take a ridiculously long time to come in, I wouldn't have to pay extra for the special order, so I was pretty much a satisfied customer.
Fast forward a few weeks when I get a phone call saying "Hey, you're battery is in, come on down and pick it up" Wow, I think, that was quick, but hey I'm no complainer! So I head on down and even comment to the guy that I thought it would take a lot longer, don't really remember if he acknowledged/replied but I left feeling everything was fine with the shipping box shoved in my messenger bag.
10 days or so later, box still on my floor as I haven't had to use it yet and I have forgotten to open it, and I get another call from Ritz camera saying my battery is in...um....I already have my battery, so as a concerned customer, I ignore the message (this same nightmare happened when I set up my Internet with one hand not talking to the other so I figured it was something on their end).
2 days ago I open the box in preparation for my upcoming Labor day weekend trip out to the east coast. My camera is an Olympus. The battery was Fuji. The name on the packing slip - Beverly. My name, not Beverly.
So today, on my lunch hour, I go back to Ritz and explain that 2 months ago they sold me a battery, I picked up what they said was my battery, and when I opened the box (granted it was two months later, but that is my prerogative), it turned out to not be my battery. The customer service response? Went something like this.....
Me: See I should have an Olympus battery and this is a Fuji...and this is not me on the slip, you gave me the wrong battery
Clerk (in a tone like I stole something): Ah yes, the other customer came in later and was very upset that her battery wasn't here.
Me: Well, you guys are the ones that gave me the wrong one, and I've been gone and just got back (tiny white lie) and have discovered this error, so I need to exchange this.
Clerk: Luckily we were able to get her the battery she needed.
During all this he is rooting around under the counter trying to find my original purchase....I wait awkwardly, feeling as though I have committed the ultimate crime of sneaking in and switching purchases in order to ruin this guy's day and some poor hapless Fuji camera owner....finally he emerges.
Clerk: Here you go.
Me: Thanks - yep this looks more like the battery that fits in my camera.
Clerk: Lucky you didn't need the extra before now.
Me: Yeah, good it worked out that way.
I exit the store.
Am I wrong to be upset that there was no attempt made by the salesperson to offer me an apology for them fucking this up? They didn't call when Fuji woman came in and they figured out that this had happened. I got no message saying "Hey - we gave you the wrong thing, Come Back!" No, instead I am rudely admonished for not opening my purchase sooner and coming back and fixing their clerks mistake. I think I am done with Ritz, unless my readers can give me a logical argument of why I was in the wrong.
So I went down the street to my local Ritz camera store and they were nice and helpful. They did not have my battery in stock so they had to special order it, and while it would take a ridiculously long time to come in, I wouldn't have to pay extra for the special order, so I was pretty much a satisfied customer.
Fast forward a few weeks when I get a phone call saying "Hey, you're battery is in, come on down and pick it up" Wow, I think, that was quick, but hey I'm no complainer! So I head on down and even comment to the guy that I thought it would take a lot longer, don't really remember if he acknowledged/replied but I left feeling everything was fine with the shipping box shoved in my messenger bag.
10 days or so later, box still on my floor as I haven't had to use it yet and I have forgotten to open it, and I get another call from Ritz camera saying my battery is in...um....I already have my battery, so as a concerned customer, I ignore the message (this same nightmare happened when I set up my Internet with one hand not talking to the other so I figured it was something on their end).
2 days ago I open the box in preparation for my upcoming Labor day weekend trip out to the east coast. My camera is an Olympus. The battery was Fuji. The name on the packing slip - Beverly. My name, not Beverly.
So today, on my lunch hour, I go back to Ritz and explain that 2 months ago they sold me a battery, I picked up what they said was my battery, and when I opened the box (granted it was two months later, but that is my prerogative), it turned out to not be my battery. The customer service response? Went something like this.....
Me: See I should have an Olympus battery and this is a Fuji...and this is not me on the slip, you gave me the wrong battery
Clerk (in a tone like I stole something): Ah yes, the other customer came in later and was very upset that her battery wasn't here.
Me: Well, you guys are the ones that gave me the wrong one, and I've been gone and just got back (tiny white lie) and have discovered this error, so I need to exchange this.
Clerk: Luckily we were able to get her the battery she needed.
During all this he is rooting around under the counter trying to find my original purchase....I wait awkwardly, feeling as though I have committed the ultimate crime of sneaking in and switching purchases in order to ruin this guy's day and some poor hapless Fuji camera owner....finally he emerges.
Clerk: Here you go.
Me: Thanks - yep this looks more like the battery that fits in my camera.
Clerk: Lucky you didn't need the extra before now.
Me: Yeah, good it worked out that way.
I exit the store.
Am I wrong to be upset that there was no attempt made by the salesperson to offer me an apology for them fucking this up? They didn't call when Fuji woman came in and they figured out that this had happened. I got no message saying "Hey - we gave you the wrong thing, Come Back!" No, instead I am rudely admonished for not opening my purchase sooner and coming back and fixing their clerks mistake. I think I am done with Ritz, unless my readers can give me a logical argument of why I was in the wrong.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Happy Birthday to Me!
So today is my birthday, woo hoo I am three cubed! (Come on, that's just fun and you know it). I want to share the story of how my day started.
I woke up late and ended up scrambling out the door around 7:30. As I burst through the inside door of my "lobby" I saw that the outside door was covered with bright pink sheets of paper all saying the same thing "Jessica is 27" with a hand drawn picture of what I can only assume to be me, smiling on it, in the unmistakable penmanship of my dear friend L. Also tied to my door was a helium Happy Birthday balloon. I immediately burst out laughing and was still doing so as I took down the papers and unwrapped the balloon from the handle. In front of my door in chalk was also a birthday message. It was a great way to start the day....but it gets better.
As I headed out with my balloon in tow I saw down the street a handful of more bright pink pieces of paper, again all with the same message, taped to trees, poles, even the cell phone store window. And there were more chalk statements down the sidewalk, all positive and encouraging. Laughing even harder now, I headed off down the street and turned on to Western where I almost fell over. You guessed it, all the way down to the train station - more pink papers and more birthday messages. It was awesome! At the door to the El stop was my final message, "Have a great day at work", and you know what, I am!
I woke up late and ended up scrambling out the door around 7:30. As I burst through the inside door of my "lobby" I saw that the outside door was covered with bright pink sheets of paper all saying the same thing "Jessica is 27" with a hand drawn picture of what I can only assume to be me, smiling on it, in the unmistakable penmanship of my dear friend L. Also tied to my door was a helium Happy Birthday balloon. I immediately burst out laughing and was still doing so as I took down the papers and unwrapped the balloon from the handle. In front of my door in chalk was also a birthday message. It was a great way to start the day....but it gets better.
As I headed out with my balloon in tow I saw down the street a handful of more bright pink pieces of paper, again all with the same message, taped to trees, poles, even the cell phone store window. And there were more chalk statements down the sidewalk, all positive and encouraging. Laughing even harder now, I headed off down the street and turned on to Western where I almost fell over. You guessed it, all the way down to the train station - more pink papers and more birthday messages. It was awesome! At the door to the El stop was my final message, "Have a great day at work", and you know what, I am!
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Lunch Hour
My partner in crime at work is out for the morning so I was forced to fend for myself during lunch. I headed down to Corner Bakery for my usual ham and swiss panini - I am horribly unoriginal with food once I find something I like. I decided to shake it up a little (small steps) and get the half sandwich half cup of soup -> Wednesday - Sunday is baked potato which might be one of my favorite types of soup.
Turns out there was a terrorist sabotage attack on Corner Bakery's cup supply and most of the customers walked away with leaking sodas (damn those terrorists!). I was one of the chosen few who had a perfectly fine cup (I think I might sell it on eBay later) so was entertained throughout my meal watching group after group get downstairs only to realize their diet cokes were leaking all over their "I'm on vacation from the burbs" outfits.
Eventually a manager type guy started making rounds in the basement dining area asking how everyones food was and offering up replacement cups to anyone who hadn't trotted back upstairs for a new one already. At this point I have realized that while my coke is happily staying inside my cup, I think there might be lettuce mixed in with my green onions on the top of my soup. As he heads toward me with that look of "how are you doing today" inquiry plastered across his face, I debated whether or not to point out this obvious mixing of vegetables. But as he hit my table, smiled and joked with me about my souvenir cup I lost the nerve, figuring the more vegetable life in my diet the better.
Done with my meal, I headed up and out to hide under the awning from the sprinkles of rain that were dusting the Chicago streets while I smoked my after dinner cigarette. To me this act is almost up there with ritual, and I enjoy it immensely. As I tried to cup my burning ember away from the crowd and kept my respectable distance from the revolving door (Hey I may be a smoker but I am not a total asshole) I watched as the same manager type guy had to head out and extricate a homeless man from their outdoor seating. I overheard the manager call the homeless man "buddy", doubting that in any universe, simulated or not, those two would ever be "buddies".
With the rain stopped and my cigarette done, I headed back to the office. Dealt with two groups of people walking the wrong way on the sidewalk*. They must be from Europe. And headed into Staples were I bought 3 bottles of Elmer's glue, 3 boxes of 24 count crayons, and 4 folders. Do I need these things? No. But when you can buy 12 oz. of glue, 72 crayons, and 8 places to hold paper with a single dollar and get 45 cents back, it's a crime not to.
*There are certain rules when one decides to present themselves in public. One is that you walk on the right side of the sidewalk (as opposed to left) this way traffic can flow smoothly much like on the roads. Second is that when on an escalator - standers stand on the right so walkers can pass on the left, again much like driving. It is on my list of great annoyances when others in the world do not recognize these rules.
Turns out there was a terrorist sabotage attack on Corner Bakery's cup supply and most of the customers walked away with leaking sodas (damn those terrorists!). I was one of the chosen few who had a perfectly fine cup (I think I might sell it on eBay later) so was entertained throughout my meal watching group after group get downstairs only to realize their diet cokes were leaking all over their "I'm on vacation from the burbs" outfits.
Eventually a manager type guy started making rounds in the basement dining area asking how everyones food was and offering up replacement cups to anyone who hadn't trotted back upstairs for a new one already. At this point I have realized that while my coke is happily staying inside my cup, I think there might be lettuce mixed in with my green onions on the top of my soup. As he heads toward me with that look of "how are you doing today" inquiry plastered across his face, I debated whether or not to point out this obvious mixing of vegetables. But as he hit my table, smiled and joked with me about my souvenir cup I lost the nerve, figuring the more vegetable life in my diet the better.
Done with my meal, I headed up and out to hide under the awning from the sprinkles of rain that were dusting the Chicago streets while I smoked my after dinner cigarette. To me this act is almost up there with ritual, and I enjoy it immensely. As I tried to cup my burning ember away from the crowd and kept my respectable distance from the revolving door (Hey I may be a smoker but I am not a total asshole) I watched as the same manager type guy had to head out and extricate a homeless man from their outdoor seating. I overheard the manager call the homeless man "buddy", doubting that in any universe, simulated or not, those two would ever be "buddies".
With the rain stopped and my cigarette done, I headed back to the office. Dealt with two groups of people walking the wrong way on the sidewalk*. They must be from Europe. And headed into Staples were I bought 3 bottles of Elmer's glue, 3 boxes of 24 count crayons, and 4 folders. Do I need these things? No. But when you can buy 12 oz. of glue, 72 crayons, and 8 places to hold paper with a single dollar and get 45 cents back, it's a crime not to.
*There are certain rules when one decides to present themselves in public. One is that you walk on the right side of the sidewalk (as opposed to left) this way traffic can flow smoothly much like on the roads. Second is that when on an escalator - standers stand on the right so walkers can pass on the left, again much like driving. It is on my list of great annoyances when others in the world do not recognize these rules.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Links Galore
I started keeping a running draft of articles that I came across that intrigued me, figuring that at some point I would do more in depth posts about each...yeah that ain't gonna happen. So instead, because they really should be shared with the world, I will do a quick summary and let you read the rest....
In an attempt to thwart the bureaucracy that is the New Zealand government, a couple is doing an end run in naming their baby. When The Man shot down their attempts to name their baby "4Real" they decided to be tricky and choose "Superman" (but will be calling the baby 4Real to its face). Yes, this is a legitimate story. And yes, I am making just about as much fun as I can of it....4 Real!
I don't drink a lot of milk so I was in the dark that there is a clandestine milk market out there. I think my favorite part was the quote about the Amish supplying the black market in NY and Boston.
According to the New York Times layout guy, women ordering meat on their dates is considered "Fashion and Style" (and of course I am thrilled that I finally have permission to order what I want when dating - ugh)
Why does this never happen to me? I think it's time to start putting aside the books, knick-knacks, and old clothes that I'm trying to hawk online and move on to good old saintly images - $1500 bucks for a grease stain? Sold!
And in case you missed out on getting the son of god to show up on your garage floor - you can always get good old dad to show up in your vegetable drawer
Some kid is getting killed in Texas because of a law that says because he was in the car when someone else got out (with no warning to the rest of the vehicle) and shot someone he can be held accountable - this is my WTF for the day. It's a short article so if anyone has any more information I would gladly take it (I have to work at some point in the day)
Anyone have $208 they want to just randomly give me? It could be a lot of fun!
Oh dear god. Why do they let these people run the world? With weapons?
And as a follow up to the camo bible link (the one right above) today's Chicago Tribune was kind enough to have this story on the cover of their Metro section.*** Some asshole has started the new sport of extreme aerial bowfishing. Yes, that's right, they go out in boats, and shoot big fucking arrows at fish that jump from the tremors from their motorboats. And as an extra special bonus, the online article comes with video, now I am work so can't watch it, but I started it and the first two seconds show a girl in a bikini on a towel and a guy holding a bottle of Bud Light. I think I have to go throw up now.
Cheers, enjoy the links and have a great day!
***Update - my apologies for the corrections I need to make about this article. One, it was actually the cover of Tempo, not Metro. And two, the Bud Light and bikini girl was a commercial before the story not part of the actual story. Still, it's fucked up and weird
In an attempt to thwart the bureaucracy that is the New Zealand government, a couple is doing an end run in naming their baby. When The Man shot down their attempts to name their baby "4Real" they decided to be tricky and choose "Superman" (but will be calling the baby 4Real to its face). Yes, this is a legitimate story. And yes, I am making just about as much fun as I can of it....4 Real!
I don't drink a lot of milk so I was in the dark that there is a clandestine milk market out there. I think my favorite part was the quote about the Amish supplying the black market in NY and Boston.
According to the New York Times layout guy, women ordering meat on their dates is considered "Fashion and Style" (and of course I am thrilled that I finally have permission to order what I want when dating - ugh)
Why does this never happen to me? I think it's time to start putting aside the books, knick-knacks, and old clothes that I'm trying to hawk online and move on to good old saintly images - $1500 bucks for a grease stain? Sold!
And in case you missed out on getting the son of god to show up on your garage floor - you can always get good old dad to show up in your vegetable drawer
Some kid is getting killed in Texas because of a law that says because he was in the car when someone else got out (with no warning to the rest of the vehicle) and shot someone he can be held accountable - this is my WTF for the day. It's a short article so if anyone has any more information I would gladly take it (I have to work at some point in the day)
Anyone have $208 they want to just randomly give me? It could be a lot of fun!
Oh dear god. Why do they let these people run the world? With weapons?
And as a follow up to the camo bible link (the one right above) today's Chicago Tribune was kind enough to have this story on the cover of their Metro section.*** Some asshole has started the new sport of extreme aerial bowfishing. Yes, that's right, they go out in boats, and shoot big fucking arrows at fish that jump from the tremors from their motorboats. And as an extra special bonus, the online article comes with video, now I am work so can't watch it, but I started it and the first two seconds show a girl in a bikini on a towel and a guy holding a bottle of Bud Light. I think I have to go throw up now.
Cheers, enjoy the links and have a great day!
***Update - my apologies for the corrections I need to make about this article. One, it was actually the cover of Tempo, not Metro. And two, the Bud Light and bikini girl was a commercial before the story not part of the actual story. Still, it's fucked up and weird
Monday, August 13, 2007
What did Canada do?
Here is an extra special, extra Monday post...I had lunch at McDonalds today (no, that is not the extra special post, it's just the setup) and because it's McD's and there is nothing else to do (burgers are way to messy/greasy to try and read while eating) I read the back of the receipt. It appears that the company was having (like most companies these days) a survey that would enter you into a drawing for weekly prizes. In the fine print however it says this...
So my question is what did Canada (and specifically Quebec) do to get the all powerful Golden Arch's to require them to test in order to participate?
"Open only to legal residents of the US and Canada (other than the Province of Quebec), 15 years of age and older. In order to win, a Canadian resident must correctly answer a skill testing question"(emphasis theirs)
So my question is what did Canada (and specifically Quebec) do to get the all powerful Golden Arch's to require them to test in order to participate?
Brand Specific
After 15 years (give or take) of increasing purchasing power - though lately it feels like it is decreasing with Chicago rent and ridiculous ComEd bills ($60 for a month in a studio!) - I have come to discover that there are three types of purchases that I make. The first are the products where I am brand loyal, I always buy the same brand regardless of price. Somehow through advertising or personal taste I have a select list of things that generics or substitutes will not do (such as M&M's - the generic version is just downright wrong). Second are the products that I will rotate brand but will stay in the name brand category. Laundry detergent, shampoo, face wash, ice cream, etc. These are things that I am not too particular about, but advertising has convinced me that I have to use something with a little shelf recognition. Finally, there are the products that I could care less about their ad campaigns and buy purely based on price. Milk, any kind of noodles, body wash, gas (when I owned a car), etc.
Over the years these preferences have changed. Laundry detergent for example - for years I was strictly a Tide girl. Then I moved from a basement apartment with laundry right around the corner from my living room, to an elevator building, to a third floor walk up. I now am a huge fan of All - simply because they make a "small and mighty" version that uses less and therefore weighs a whole lot less in my up and down treks on laundry day. And recently I moved from the devout brand loyal category of smoker to the smoker whore category.
For those of you that know me personally I have smoked Marlboro reds for years. In the beginning I switched back and forth between menthol and non menthol, had a short stint as a Camel convert (the pressure's of ex-boyfriends!) and around the age when it finally became legal for me to smoke I settled into my reds. I smoked them for two reasons. One, I thoroughly enjoyed them and two, they scared the shit out of others. I know that is a lame reason to smoke but it was awfully fun. To be a girl, 5'6", 130 lbs (give or take), and to smoke such a "bad ass" cigarette lent me some kind of weird toughness. It was great to be at a bar and have some weekend smoking frat boy try and bum one from me. They would recoil in fear as I pulled out my full flavored treats and quickly changed their minds, taking their annoyingly popped collars somewhere else. And this was just fine with me. I was a tried and true believer (even through two bouts of pneumonia and whooping cough) and everyone who knew me figured I would smoke them forever.
So you ask, how did I go from a modern day poster girl for the Marlboro company, to a smoking whore? Three things happened simultaneously that stripped away my red loyalty. One - I discovered that I was flat out broke. Two - I decided that I would attempt a budget to get myself out of brokeness. Three - a whole bunch of Camel coupons showed up at my house when I was out of smokes. Cigarettes are expensive in Chicago (around $8 a pack downtown, $7.50 up in the hood) and here I was holding a handful of $3.00 off and buy one get one free coupons. So I tried some of the new Camel brands. First up was the Camel No. 9. These won me over with their black packaging and hot pink trim. They boil down to a light cigarette, but the package was fun. After 10 days or so of this, I ran out of coupons and tried to go back to my familiar friend Red. They kicked my ass. It was like they knew I had stepped out on them and were not ready to take me back. By the end of the pack it was not so harsh, but I knew that my decade long relationship with the one brand was done. I have since moved on to try many of the new Camel "signature" line. Their advertising and random coupons in the mail have won me over to the dark side. I have at long last moved into my second category of purchasing. I still have not broken down and bought the cheapest, brandless cigarettes, but I have become a smoking whore - whatever(brand name) is on sale or I have coupons for will be what is in my bag until the foreseeable future.
Over the years these preferences have changed. Laundry detergent for example - for years I was strictly a Tide girl. Then I moved from a basement apartment with laundry right around the corner from my living room, to an elevator building, to a third floor walk up. I now am a huge fan of All - simply because they make a "small and mighty" version that uses less and therefore weighs a whole lot less in my up and down treks on laundry day. And recently I moved from the devout brand loyal category of smoker to the smoker whore category.
For those of you that know me personally I have smoked Marlboro reds for years. In the beginning I switched back and forth between menthol and non menthol, had a short stint as a Camel convert (the pressure's of ex-boyfriends!) and around the age when it finally became legal for me to smoke I settled into my reds. I smoked them for two reasons. One, I thoroughly enjoyed them and two, they scared the shit out of others. I know that is a lame reason to smoke but it was awfully fun. To be a girl, 5'6", 130 lbs (give or take), and to smoke such a "bad ass" cigarette lent me some kind of weird toughness. It was great to be at a bar and have some weekend smoking frat boy try and bum one from me. They would recoil in fear as I pulled out my full flavored treats and quickly changed their minds, taking their annoyingly popped collars somewhere else. And this was just fine with me. I was a tried and true believer (even through two bouts of pneumonia and whooping cough) and everyone who knew me figured I would smoke them forever.
So you ask, how did I go from a modern day poster girl for the Marlboro company, to a smoking whore? Three things happened simultaneously that stripped away my red loyalty. One - I discovered that I was flat out broke. Two - I decided that I would attempt a budget to get myself out of brokeness. Three - a whole bunch of Camel coupons showed up at my house when I was out of smokes. Cigarettes are expensive in Chicago (around $8 a pack downtown, $7.50 up in the hood) and here I was holding a handful of $3.00 off and buy one get one free coupons. So I tried some of the new Camel brands. First up was the Camel No. 9. These won me over with their black packaging and hot pink trim. They boil down to a light cigarette, but the package was fun. After 10 days or so of this, I ran out of coupons and tried to go back to my familiar friend Red. They kicked my ass. It was like they knew I had stepped out on them and were not ready to take me back. By the end of the pack it was not so harsh, but I knew that my decade long relationship with the one brand was done. I have since moved on to try many of the new Camel "signature" line. Their advertising and random coupons in the mail have won me over to the dark side. I have at long last moved into my second category of purchasing. I still have not broken down and bought the cheapest, brandless cigarettes, but I have become a smoking whore - whatever(brand name) is on sale or I have coupons for will be what is in my bag until the foreseeable future.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
A great way to start the day
So I do have a post debate summary in the works but at 5:15 last night it disappeared. Got up, followed the second star to the right, and flew away never to be seen again, so I'm taking a break from it and will come back to it later today. So for now I would like to share the entertaining start to today that I had...
Running late I get on the train one stop north of my usual point of departure (I'm dog sitting) and settle into my single chair. All of a sudden I feel my phone buzzing in my purse. "Oh no, this can't be good" I think. Who would call me at 7:30 in the morning unless something is wrong. So I pull out my phone and see that I have a text message. The following is the back and forth conversation I had that pretty much took me all the way to work this morning (all misspellings left intact)....
Coworker's message: Been waiting 4 a bus 4 25 min am prolly gonna be late. Pls sit at my desk and pretend to be me, thanks
My reply: Sure, but i just got on the train myself so not sure what good i'd be :)
Coworker: Oh dear! 1st one to work is a rotten egg!
Me: You're on!
Coworker: Finally a bus! Why did u sell ur car? U cld be giving rides
Me: Ah yes, silly, silly, me. How did you know it has always been my dream to be a chauffer?
Coworker: Hey no sass it is too Gargamel* early! Tee hee I slay me.
Me: Tehehe! I think that is the first time i have laughed out loud on my morning commute, thanks! And then my day started....
* Gargamel was a phrase I used with a group of friends when I was younger as a replacement for "god damn". I don't know how it started or why, especially since I was not allowed to watch Smurfs when I was a kid, something about the fact that there was only one Smurfette for the whole village of male Smurfs went against everything my mother believed in regarding equality and rights for women....
Running late I get on the train one stop north of my usual point of departure (I'm dog sitting) and settle into my single chair. All of a sudden I feel my phone buzzing in my purse. "Oh no, this can't be good" I think. Who would call me at 7:30 in the morning unless something is wrong. So I pull out my phone and see that I have a text message. The following is the back and forth conversation I had that pretty much took me all the way to work this morning (all misspellings left intact)....
Coworker's message: Been waiting 4 a bus 4 25 min am prolly gonna be late. Pls sit at my desk and pretend to be me, thanks
My reply: Sure, but i just got on the train myself so not sure what good i'd be :)
Coworker: Oh dear! 1st one to work is a rotten egg!
Me: You're on!
Coworker: Finally a bus! Why did u sell ur car? U cld be giving rides
Me: Ah yes, silly, silly, me. How did you know it has always been my dream to be a chauffer?
Coworker: Hey no sass it is too Gargamel* early! Tee hee I slay me.
Me: Tehehe! I think that is the first time i have laughed out loud on my morning commute, thanks! And then my day started....
* Gargamel was a phrase I used with a group of friends when I was younger as a replacement for "god damn". I don't know how it started or why, especially since I was not allowed to watch Smurfs when I was a kid, something about the fact that there was only one Smurfette for the whole village of male Smurfs went against everything my mother believed in regarding equality and rights for women....
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Debate Time
Tonight their will be a Democratic presidential debate hosted at our very own Solider Field. All the candidates will get together and do the traditional back and forth that we will hear until the party picks a candidate and then we will watch that person (I am making no bets yet) go head to head with who ever is picked for the other team. Pretty simple, basic stuff, so you are probably wondering why the hell I am mentioning it here. Well, turns out due to the fates aligning and having a pretty sharing boss, I am going to be at the debate!
Now truth be told (argh, I hate to admit this) I don't think I have ever sat through an entire debate on television. At some point I always get distracted and wander off to another channel, or simply turn the damn thing off. But, keep your fingers crossed, being as this is live, my attention might actually stay tuned on the candidates.
I will be back tomorrow (and if anything interesting happens maybe even later today) with an update and let ya'll know how it goes.
Cheers!
Now truth be told (argh, I hate to admit this) I don't think I have ever sat through an entire debate on television. At some point I always get distracted and wander off to another channel, or simply turn the damn thing off. But, keep your fingers crossed, being as this is live, my attention might actually stay tuned on the candidates.
I will be back tomorrow (and if anything interesting happens maybe even later today) with an update and let ya'll know how it goes.
Cheers!
Monday, August 6, 2007
A little news to start the week
I spent the weekend holed up in my studio apartment and it was great. I read the final Harry Potter book (mock me later if you must) in approximately 24 hours. Started Friday at around 1 p.m and finished Saturday at about a quarter to 2 in the afternoon. And that includes dinner out Friday night. I realized about 10 pages in that I either a) never read book 6 or b) had completely forgotten any and all details but decided to read on anyway. With a book like Harry Potter, it doesn't really matter anyway. Overall it was entertaining, somewhat of a let down, and almost entirely forgettable (by page 450 I had forgotten what had transpired on the first 100 pages). In other words it was exactly what I was looking for in a weekend read.
On to more worldly items....Let me start by saying that I have lost many, many things in my life. I have lost car keys, house keys, books, and papers. I have lost my mind, my virginity, and once in awhile I even thought I had lost my soul in a deal gone wrong. But I am proud to say I have never lost 190,000 of anything. Our government however can not make that same claim. We counted on this side of the water and we counted again on that side and somewhere inbetween almost 200,000 rifles and pistols dissapeared. Just flew away, never to be seen again (felt, but not seen). If I ever lost 200K of anything; pens, notepads, computer files, dollars (all the things I deal with on a daily basis in my own job) I would be fired in an instant. But alas, like so many other government interactions/attrocities (you pick the word) this will most likely go down as an unsettling headline in today's paper, never to be heard from again.
On to more worldly items....Let me start by saying that I have lost many, many things in my life. I have lost car keys, house keys, books, and papers. I have lost my mind, my virginity, and once in awhile I even thought I had lost my soul in a deal gone wrong. But I am proud to say I have never lost 190,000 of anything. Our government however can not make that same claim. We counted on this side of the water and we counted again on that side and somewhere inbetween almost 200,000 rifles and pistols dissapeared. Just flew away, never to be seen again (felt, but not seen). If I ever lost 200K of anything; pens, notepads, computer files, dollars (all the things I deal with on a daily basis in my own job) I would be fired in an instant. But alas, like so many other government interactions/attrocities (you pick the word) this will most likely go down as an unsettling headline in today's paper, never to be heard from again.
In other, happier news, my long held dream of eventually owning my very own KITT is quickly becoming more than just a hazy, far off idea. Nissan is making a car that will deaccelerate when an accident is approaching. How fucking cool is that. It can also auto correct when you start to fall asleep at the wheell and swerve into other lanes, and has a way to measure the alcohol in your sweat (which even I will admit, is a little creepy). Someday soon I will be able to own a car with a mind and personality of it's own. All I need after that is a hoverboard.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Oh dear lord....
Here I go again....I started my blogging addiction on a free yahoo geocities account - but that quickly fell apart, too many damn things to sign into.
Then I moved over to myspace, but that site is just a pain in my ass and it's not user friendly which lowers my blog desire by about the power of 10.
So at long last I have succumbed (or probably more appropriately "seen the light") and moved over to blogger...hopefully I will stick with this one (mostly because if Rob has to switch to a new place to read me he might actually find a way to shoot me from all the way down under). I will come back later and do the obligatory "Hi, nice to meet you post" but for now I should probably get to work....
PS - you will find that if you stick with me, most of these will end with me scurrying off to do work, I apparently am a 9-5 blogger :)
Then I moved over to myspace, but that site is just a pain in my ass and it's not user friendly which lowers my blog desire by about the power of 10.
So at long last I have succumbed (or probably more appropriately "seen the light") and moved over to blogger...hopefully I will stick with this one (mostly because if Rob has to switch to a new place to read me he might actually find a way to shoot me from all the way down under). I will come back later and do the obligatory "Hi, nice to meet you post" but for now I should probably get to work....
PS - you will find that if you stick with me, most of these will end with me scurrying off to do work, I apparently am a 9-5 blogger :)
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