Cats vs. Dogs

I'm a dog person, specifically a big dog person. Now what the rest of you city dwelling folk seem to think of as "big", I usually classify as normal, but to each his own I suppose. There have been a few small dogs I've come across in life that have been cool enough to worm their way into my heart - Taz, Oz, and Mellie come to mind - but I normally don't think twice until your pup hits about 50 lbs. Some day when I'm all grown up with a yard and time to train them I will start with two dogs. The first will be a malamute and his name shall be Atticus. The second, possibly a german shepard (I'm still working out the details on that one), and his name shall be Hiro Protagonist. It will be awesome.

But while I find myself waiting for this grown up life to start, it somehow seems I have become a cat person. Not by choice mind you, well not animal choice that is. See I moved in with a boy that had a cat and with the fact that we are working opposite shifts, I seem to find myself quite often in the company of an orange, 23 lb. pain in the ass named Bill instead of my intended. And, oddly enough, I don't really mind (I mind not seeing the boy as much as I'd like, it's hanging with the cat I'm oddly finding myself okay with just to be clear here).

As the days get darker and the possibility of me getting home from work while there is still natural light in the sky becomes a fading reality, it's nice to walk into the empty house and have something alive and wanting my attention. The extra warmth I get from his constantly wanting to lay directly on my lap helps when your apartment doesn't have the best heating system in the world. He purrs like a diesel engine at times, and it's comforting on quiet nights to have something besides my own thoughts making noise.

But that doesn't mean that I've switched sides. I'm still a dog person, and am confused by cat actions. A few weeks ago when the boy was out of town for the night I woke up at 3 in the morning to Bill making a racket. Running around, mewling, just being a loud ass pain in general. My first thought? Someone is breaking in of course. Because when your dog gets up at 3 in the morning and starts making all kinds of noise it always means something is wrong. So of course I get up and go out, slowly, to see what's happening. Do I find an intruder? Do I find a sick cat in the middle of the floor? No I find Bill wanting to play. That's it, just play. Can you guess who went back to bed cursing up a storm? I'll give ya three guesses and the first two don't count.

And I don't think I'm a fan of all cats. Like my feelings towards kids, I reserve my fandom for a select few felines. I'm also not a fan of litter pebbles tracked all over my wood floors, a habit of walking on my head when the food dish is empty and I'm still sleeping, or having every item of clothing I own covered in orange tabby fur. And it doesn't help that he loves to sleep in the laundry basket. Ah well, this is my life. Internet world - meet Bill (by the way, as a point of reference that basket is large enough to hold about 2.5 loads of laundry.)

Where I live

I try to not post a lot of identifying information here since well, I say some things that I probably shouldn't be associated with, but since this has pretty blatantly evolved from a commentary on the news and goings on of the world to my own little rantification place I figured a personal post won't bring me down. Now I'm still not outing who I am (or where you can specifically find me) so don't be expecting any addresses or anything.

When I moved to this wild and exciting city I lived in a sublet downtown. Not fun downtown either, like loop, right next to the El tracks downtown. I took the place, and spent every dime earned for getting me an edumacation, so that I could figure out if I wanted to live here on a trial basis. When the trial was up I had to decide where to migrate to. At that point in time I could count 4 people I knew well enough to hang out with after 5 p.m. Two lived west and two lived north, so being the insanely logical person I am, I flipped and coin and headed North.

After a year in a studio I decided it was time for a big girl apartment and started the dreaded apartment search once again. I find I love the idea of apartment hunting - the browsing of Craigslist and wandering the neighborhoods looking for signs - but the actual appointment setting and viewing always brings me down. After not too much searching I found myself a bonified one bedroom, with a full dining room to boot, and dragged all my belongings to my new place a few blocks north and west of my studio.

Let me take a brief break to say thank you to anyone who participated in that move. I apologize for it's insanity and multiple unprepared trips in I-Go vehicles and I promise I will be hiring professional movers next time this comes up.

Now back to our regularly scheduled program.

I loved my new apartment. And I loved my neighborhood. Close to the train, directly behind a grocery store and relatively easy to give directions to for my friends if they ever decided to come from out of town. But after a few weeks I started to notice something about my new found home as I walked the streets. My first realization? There were a ton of dogs! Yay. Second realization? Almost everyone was pushing a baby stroller. Fuck.

I had dropped myself in the "Newly married, late 20's, early 30's up and coming family" section of Chicago. Awesome. Nothing could be further from fun for a single, non-child wanting female. But I hung on and ended up finding quite a great group of folks that didn't fit the first impression bill. I also found a great bar/restaurant which upped the value of the area for me considerably. And yes, I'm calling it a restaurant for those that know the place I speak of because since I eat there way to much I have earned that right.

So at this point in the story, let's be kind here and call it story and not just rambling if that's okay, you as the reader might be wondering what in the world the point of any of this is. Well, there's not really a point. Sorry. That's one of those annoying powers the Internet has given anyone with the ability to hit a power button. I can at least tell you how the trip down memory lane started.

Today getting off the train from work there was a woman holding a newbornish (somewhere still small enough to hold, not even close to walking, but not fresh out of hospital or anything, whatever that age is) baby waiting for husband to greet them. Dad runs up, hugs them both and they head off to their presumably idyllic home/condo. I smiled at the scene because while I may not really like/want kids of my own, I'm not a total heartless bastard, and started to think of my own life and projections of future accomplishments. Now, don't fear. This isn't going to turn into a "Oh No! I have to get married in the next 11 months or I'll just die!" kind of post. But it did get me thinking there are some things I'd like to start to accomplish. School at some point. A reduction in debt. A job I can love.

So with these thoughts in mind I'm going to try my best this weekend, between the furniture moving and football watching, to clear some time and invite some old friends to dinner. Me, my resume, and my credit cards need to have a serious heart-to-heart (or as some like to say it's time for a come to Jesus meeting!).

Welcome to my Office

A Typical Office Interaction

Brought to you by JJ

The Corporation that brought you Jaded and Tired of My Job

(All conversations slightly modified to get across the true sentiment of speaker and listener)

Because it's not really there unless you print it

Tuesday, 10:45 AM:
Supervisor approaches my desk after a meeting, waving piece of paper in my general direction and says "I found this on the server, but I don't really know where, man is that thing disorganized! Too bad I don't' actually have any constructive ideas on how to fix it, maybe stating it repeatedly will clean it up...but anyway, here is something that was started by someone at some point and you should use this to update the process we talked about."

Supervisor continues to wave printed out piece of paper at me as though through the magic of seeing the paper I will psychically know what and where this document can be found. I start to think (yes, not even start to ask, but start to think) of asking, "Couldn't you have emailed me a link to where that was?" but think better of it since engaging the beast for longer than necessary will surely flare up either my ulcers or my hankering for a cold stiff drink.

I instead say "Okay, I'll do that" offering no further engagement to paper waving supervisor. Supervisor stands for just as many moments as it takes to be socially awkward and then shuffles back to office to probably print more random things found throughout the mystery that is our server.

I go back to listening to Pandora and think about finding that document but instead start blogging while all the time thinking, yes, this is my life.

Update (since I have nothing more creative to title this)

It's been a bit busy in my life lately and feel I have neglected my half dozen or so readers here for which I apologize profusely. Or as profusely as one can do through a blog. Some updates on life in general - I'm still reading Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, and it's still really good (it's over 1000 pages so this one might take awhile). I went to The Good show last weekend and had a great time (though abandoning the BF and friend while I danced away at the front was probably not the nicest thing to do in retrospect, damn you hindsight and your 20/20 vision). I also am now left wondering how to craft lamps that spell out words (and what words I want). Booked a hotel room for the upcoming Wisconsin winter wedding adventure, $190 freaking dollars to basically just crash at the end of the night is absolutely ridiculous in my opinion. There should be some kind of "I'm not going to use any of your child filled indoor water park rides so I should get $80 off the top" pricing. But alas, there is not. So it went on the BF's credit card and I have to figure out a way to pay him back for at least half of it...or figure out a way to not mention it again. Oh and I'm meeting the BF's mom tonight. That is a whole nother post in and of itself. I'm usually pretty good with parents, for the most part they like me, but I am a bit rusty so wish me luck.

Probably the biggest news of all though is that this Friday I'm getting on a plane (cross your fingers on that one!) and heading out to DC for 6 days. Do the math... I'll wait... Yup I'm going to inauguration. Do I have tickets you ask? Nope. Do I care? Nope. While I admit it would be much cooler to actually have tickets to the lawn area I think that just being on the mall during this amazingly historic event will be something I remember for the rest of my life. And more than being excited I am also scared out of my mind. 4 million people freak me out. But I'm crossing my fingers it all goes well and that my camera doesn't freeze, break, or get stolen. I will be back with tales I am sure.

Boyfriend?

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v1.1) defines "boyfriend" as...
1) a frequent or favorite male companion; beau.
2) a male friend.
3) a male lover.

while supposedly American Heritage Dictionary (though the info was on the same site) defines it as...
1) A favored male companion or sweetheart.
2) A male friend.

Whatever the definition is, I think I may have somehow gotten one. I know, I know, I write this as though I randomly found a $2 lottery ticket, or picked up ringworm, sorry it's just still a little weird.

I am terrible at labeling my interactions with people and usually avoid it at all costs. I don't need to know that you are my "boyfriend" to have sex with you. I just need to know that you are not having sex with lots of other random people. Or if you are, that we both know it and are cool with it. And, on a side note, though I'm not sure it's your business or you even care, since there is no actual sex in this story yet I don't see why all this freaking matters. However, it has been pointed out to me that apparently this living a non-labeled existence makes other people slightly insecure. Whatever. So in order to be a better, more caring person, I have been trying out the term. Ironically though, if you behave like a teenager I then apparently follow suit, because I am lightly using the term with everyone but the actual boy. (insert exasperated sigh here).

Seriously. Is this stuff always this complicated/ridiculous?

But to be fair to the internet world I figured I should at least share a bit of what is going on. Met boy. Like boy. Spending quite a bit of time with boy. Boy seems to like me. In fact, boy tells me this almost all the time. This is good. That is where we are at.

However, as with all things dramalicious, it doesn't even come close to ending there. As this is 2008 the internet has of course infected my social interactions. It started with MySpace. I had a MySpace page a long time ago and abandoned it quickly after discovering the interface sucked. Since then I have become a dedicated Facebook addict. The boy though is still a MySpace user, so I booted back up the old page, updated it, and actually started blogging on it. But since he is the only one I think reading it the posts are pretty much centered around him or things we do. Mostly I do this to amuse him and to share with him things I want to say but can't figure out in actual conversation.

Then his roommate built a fan page for him on FB. So of course, I had to go and become a fan of his. It seemed only fair. On his fan page is a link to his Twitter account. And here is where the downward spiral begins. I am also on Twitter but use it only rarely (though I'm trying to update it more now). So I decided not to follow him publicly and instead type the feed directly in my toolbar so that I can keep up with his not so innermost thoughts without him knowing. Sound dangerous yet? Just wait.

Introduce into the situation a friend of his, we'll call Jane. There is a long, convoluted story about why I think that I don't like Jane and why I think she may be trying to date my new boyfriend (wow it even feels weird to type) but I will keep that for in person story telling time. Lets just say I have a pretty strong gut instinct that this girl is no good.

So the other day I decide to see who is a follower of his Twitter feed and lo and behold there is her mug shot smirking out at me. Obviously the next step is to then go see what she has to say, right? Well even if you think that is not the logical next step, that is where this story takes us. And to make it even more ridiculous, I decide to page back through the history to the night when all these untrusting feelings about her started and begin to try and dissect her updates. Way over analyzing. I know. I still freaking did it. And know I'm stuck with the knowledge in my head. Though to be fair it isn't even actual knowledge. It's fucking Twitter updates.

But in the end all that really matters is I met a boy. We went to the zoo. We are spending Thanksgiving together with friends. I like this boy. This boy likes me. Life is good.

Is it considered failure?

I was telling a story to a friend today and had it pointed out that my dating habits are much like her shopping habits which I found highly entertaining and quite close to the mark. Let me explain. Two weeks ago a different friend sent me an email with one of those "friends and family" discounts to an upcoming cultural event. Basically I could get $50 tickets for half price. I often think that I should make some attempt at least every two weeks to push my boundaries so I went ahead and bought two tickets, thinking that maybe in between then and now (the show is tonight) I could use it as the incentive to find a date.

And in fact I actually met someone in that time span that I thought might be nice to go on a date with. However, when the opportunity presented itself, for a depressingly shorter time span than I was hoping, on Tuesday I froze. I mean I didn't freeze all the way, there was some lame attempt at conversation, but in the end I was left with no invitation extended (or even mentioned!) and two empty seats in my pocket.

Which all brings me to today's conversation - my friend's shopping habits. She equated my life to when you buy that pair of pants just a hair too small, convinced you'll lose the weight and they will fit and be fantastic! and then they sit in the corner for months, or years at a time, till finally you toss them in the give away pile. Which makes me wonder, when do personally bought incentives work? Is it just me (and the people I associate with) who fail to utilize these promises to ourselves to push ahead? If someone else had bought the tickets and said I could take anyone I wanted would I have been more forceful or thoughtful in my hunt for a date? Is it the price of the incentive? Is $50 too low? And in the end, is the experience considered a failure?

For today those questions will remain unanswered. I am lucky in my life that I have a friend at work that said she would go with on my last minute invite this morning so the ticket is not going to waste. And I know I will probably try again. In fact, there is a roller derby show coming up (I've never been, and really kind of want to go!) that I might buy a group of seats for if they are cheap enough and just figure out the invites later. Hopefully next time I will follow my own ideas through.

Anger, Fear, and tiny bit of Hope

The biggest banking failure in history. Well to be truthful, I don't know if that's true, but it is the biggest failure in my history, of that I'm pretty sure. And I'm a part of it. This morning when I went to the Washington Mutual homepage I was greeted with this picture.

And it was with this picture that the reality of what is going on in the world around me finally started to sink in. I mean, I've been paying attention, in fact I've been having conversations for months with friends and family that we are in the middle of some serious shit right now in America. But this morning a company that I am a part of, a company that houses my money collapsed and was sucked up into the vortex of another company. Soon my statements will start to say JPMorgan Chase instead of the familiar WaMu, I will get a new card in the mail, I will have access to thousands of more ATM's (at least that is one of the selling points they are advertising to me).

I went in today at lunch to the branch next to my work. Got some cash for a baseball game tonight. So far the re-branding hadn't hit that location yet. Everything still looked familiar. I didn't ask about their jobs, or what was going to happen to them, I figured they had probably already had enough from customers and with a net asset of about $142 I didn't think I rated too high on the effected scale. But 30 minutes later when I was done with my meal I saw the CBS van outside the bank. I saw the newsguy standing in front of the window and could just imagine it being replayed on the 6 o'clock news tonight about the future of WaMu/Chase, the future of banking in general, the future of life.

I have avoided ranting in this arena about the fuckupedness of our current political and economic situation. There are many folks out there just like me who are doing it better, faster, and I personally am just fed up with it all anyway. But I wanted to log in today and give voice to my anger and my fear.

The world as I know it, as you know it, is gone. When you go back and look through the history books (as one sided as they may be) and wonder how could people not stand up and do something, how things could get so out of control - well folks this is how. The way we live, communicate, fend for ourselves and others is drastically spinning into a new time zone. We are hiding our heads in the sand if we think for one moment that any one out there is going to come in and save us - not after the past 8 years of leadership. And to be truthful, it goes beyond just the past 8 years. We have been screwing this planet, these cultures not our own, these civilizations beyond our borders for longer than that. We have held on to the top of the mound of tires, the king of the hill position through standing on the hands of others and those hands are ready to rip our throats out.

Holding off debates so one man can "fix" an economic crisis he didn't believe in a week ago, shielding a candidate for VP from the press to try and hemorrhage the geyser of ignorance and stupidity that seems to flow unceasingly from her whenever she speaks, 700 billion dollar buyouts, socialized debt but no socialized health care, this and so much more Freaks. Me. Out.

I don't know what the world holds. I know it will be radically different than I imagined as a child, but that's not so startling. I know it will be radically different than I imagined in my early 20's. That's a little more unnerving. But there are moments, there always are, of sunshine through the clouds, there are always some things I come across that give me hope. Today I logged into FB to see a friends status update that read ..."So-and-So* is amused by the looks from the businessmen at the hotel breakfast buffet when 1.0 says, “Mom, the bad President should go to jail. He lied to us.". " Now that's the kid I want running for president.

Pull out those old science fiction books folks, dust em off, re-read them for tips, and hang on for the ride.

* Name left out since it's not my status I'm sharing with the world - but she knows who she is.

3 percent taken care of

He's gone. Not a surprise I guess, but still somewhat of a shock. A few days ago I filled the world (and by world I mean my half a dozen or so readers out there) in on this unfolding story. And today when I logged into the Good Reads account he was gone. My tiny little friend list had dwindled down to one less. The message I sent deleted from my outbox. Like it never even happened. If I hadn't blogged it, I might even believe that it didn't exist. And now I sit here and I can feel that damned 3 percent from before swell within me. It expands to fill me from top to bottom, it's leaking out my fingertips as I type. Why? Why do I care, what did I do, why can I know not stop thinking about it? Where does this feeling like I am 13 years old and just got laughed at as I stand in the corner of the spring dance come from god damn it?

Well at least now my friends that I know were worried that the 3 percent from before would overrule any good sense I had can be assured that I will make no mistakes down that road anymore. I think I'm going to go smoke now.

Garage sale success

I wish I had something more awe inspiring or craftily worded for you all out there today, but it's just not in the cards. Instead I will share with you my fantastic new furniture additions (a sneak preview for any party goers this weekend).

First up, the bar. I love this thing. It's exactly what I needed to add some much desired shelving to my kitchen, and to be honest, it's just freaking cool.

And the coolest feature? It opens.

I then added a nice little coffee table to the living room. While not as spiffy, it does allow me to stop using TV trays as my main form of counter space.

The place is finally coming together, of course right in line with my waivering belief that I want to stay in Chicago, but oh well. Now I just have to get the rest of the house clean for the upcoming festivities this weekend.

What I should and should not be...

I should not be wearing long sleeves and pants, in Chicago, in August, and be cold.

I should not be judgmental of other women downtown about the way they smoke their cigarettes.

I should not be surprised by the men doing the up and down look that settles around the ass area of the size two women in skirts in the loop.

I should not continue to stare at the men that never even notice me, let alone look twice.

I should not spend time at work blogging.

And since lists should not contain all "should not" statements....

I should be surprised that after 28 years my father called me last night to tell me that he was worried about the distance between us, did not want our relationship to be this way, and would it be okay if he called me more often. Wow. Welcome to the conversation pops.

Keeping my imagination alive, one commute at a time

Every once in a while when I am waiting for the southbound train in the morning the northbound brown line will come through. I stare at the doors as they open, invitingly, and listen to the pre-recorded announcements that it is a "Brown Line to Kimball, Brown Line to Kimball". And every once in awhile I wonder what it would be like to slip through the doors and head in the opposite direction of my life. In reality Kimball is only 3, maybe 4, stops north of my own, but something about those doors sliding open at 7:15 a.m. makes me believe that it is actually a portal into a whole new world. A tempting world of unknown destinations and new surprises. I'm not sure if the desire to head in opposite directions is more strong on Friday's when I'm outfitted in my jeans and sneakers, ready to explore or Monday-Thursday when I am adorned in my pseudo corporate casual clothing feeling like an alien attempting to impersonate a productive member of society.

This morning, Friday, in my jeans and slip on sneakers, the northbound train rolled in as I waited with my coffee. The doors slid open and for a moment that felt like a millennium long second I thought about stepping through. I imagined what it would be like to step through and head the other way, I fantasized about the doors closing and magically being transported on to an Amtrak train out of this city, this state, this time zone. I dreamed of new worlds and landscapes, mountains and salty, ocean air. And just as the imagery was starting to crystallize around the edges, just as it was starting to become a tangible idea that I could grasp and make real, the ding of the doors closing shot through and dissolved the whole thing. As I slowly turned away I could hear the train starting back up again, could hear it heading towards its familiar home of Kimball, just to turn around and head back again in a continuous loop to become someone elses southbound adventure. With it went my dreams of sandy beaches and snow capped mountain vistas. But only for today. For I know that once again, next week, or the one after, I will be standing on my platform waiting for my life to start that day and a northbound train will come with its inviting doors and promises of new things. And maybe if I wait long enough, it really will turn into a train out of this town.

Oops, I did it again

I wonder somedays at what point in ones life do they begin to learn from their mistakes? I thought by now there would be certain things that I would of simply picked up on, figured out not to do again, and again, and again...Perfect example, tequila. Really never a good idea at 2 AM but have I figured this out yet? Nope. Maybe once I crest the golden age of 30 that lesson will stick past 1:30 AM. Another life lesson that I seem to be groundhog daying? Men. There are certain habits, which I will not go into on this page for personal embarrassment reasons, that I continue to repeat over and over with nothing ever learned. To be honest, it's starting to get a bit old. Now, if I manage to learn the tequila lesson, then maybe these other bad habits will fade away, but until then I am doomed to continue repeating the same dumb mating/dating moves apparently regardless of geographic location. Next time. Next time I will figure this out.

On to happier news, though still on the "I will never learn" front. I managed to find myself another book fair this past weekend. The Newberry library has an annual sale that I found myself immersed in Saturday morning. $18.50 and 19 books later I was on my way home. And by the way, 20 books (I had one in my bag to begin with) is no light affair. I have now run out of room in the existing set up of my library with this purchase so am trying to find a way to rearrange the over 350 books that live with me. Which means that the floor of my living room is covered in piles and stacks of books. I'm hoping by Friday to have them reshelved...we'll have to wait and see on that one.

3...2....1....

This week (and last) are really really busy so I don't have much time for a full fledged update or rant. So far this summer I've seen Feist at Ravinia, Public Enemy at Pitchfork, Hulk and Hancock. I'm going to War Games tomorrow and hopefully will get to see the newest Batman sometime soon. Also coming up is a trip to a horse race track (first time for me!), my birthday with possible festivities, and a visit from my brother as he swings his way around the country before jettisoning off to a tropical island to live and play.

But today I saw something I just had to share. The newest gadgetry found at Staples. DVD's that will self destruct in 48 hours. Okay, so maybe they don't actually blow up (my coworker wouldn't let me use the company credit card to find out) - but how else would this work? I could read the webpage, but that's no fun. Instead I like to believe that after two days of activation they have a James Bondian demise.

All it takes is 30 seconds

Sorry for the delay in posting - I have been off the grid on vacation, which while wonderful was a bit exhausting and I'm glad to be back. This is another one of those "something's bugging me" posts, but I promise it will not be nearly as gross as the milk post.

Lately I have seen this ad on TV for some random Pizza Hut special. The premise is that they have some $5 deal all the time, no "blackout" dates, no restrictions. Fine. I have no problem with this. However on closer inspection of the actors hired to play out their 30 second drama I begin to get more and more annoyed each time it airs.

It is set in an office boardroom. The "geek" guy is at the whiteboard showing off his year long calendar that he has created with all the nearby pizza specials and their availability marked off. Those with blacked out boxes (and there are quite a few) indicate a day with no special. Then "hot/young" guy stands up, rips off the painstakingly created cover sheet with the blacked out boxes to reveal a clear calendar and says something about how they could just order the great and wonderful Pizza Hut special and never have to deal with restrictions. Moral of the story? Geek guy gets shut down and hot/young guy saves the day.

As someone who more often than not finds herself in the geek category, and to be honest is pretty damn okay with that, especially when I know how to format my own excel sheets, I'm getting pretty tired of television showing me that I am not in the "winner" category. It's not blatant (usually), and it's not all the time, but it's these little 30 second spots along with all the dishwashing and laundry ads that continually reinforce the male ineptitude for washing anything, that sometimes makes me look long and hard in the mirror at who I am. Nine times out of ten, I'm happy with what looks back, but I worry about the other girls out there who may be looking in their own mirrors late at night and aren't hitting as high a percent of satisfaction.

Random pictures, not too much to actually say

So I decided to upload some random pictures for your viewing pleasure, mostly because I don't have that much to say today and I'm trying to avoid doing my dishes.

First - I officially dumpster dived a few weekends ago and snagged this from the alley across from my apartment. Didn't really need it, but it was too cute to let it get hauled away...I'm sure I'll find a reason for it (what I really want now is one of those old time candlesticks with the handles to place on top!)

Next - One of many bags I accumulated during the Printers Row book fair last weekend. This one happens to be from Powell's books - which if you ever find yourself in Portland, OR, I highly, highly recommend you spend at least half a day there. It takes up an entire city block and it's fantastic.

Finally - what happens when you leave above Powell's bag on kitchen floor after getting caught in a torrential summer down pour on your way home. I almost don't even want to wash my floors, it's like my own abstract art.

Okay, I guess it's time to start the dishes. Have a great weekend.

Part time jobs

Warning: This post contains slightly strong language.

Some fucked up shit happens in Chicago every day (so much for the self censoring). This time it has happened to someone I know. Of course the version I got was much more detailed, but since it's not my story to tell I won't divulge any more than the article lays out for you here. The short of it is the teachers in this school (my friend included) will be receiving their last paychecks on Friday. Bam. That's it. No warning, no preparation. Just a big fuck you from the charter school system. So if anyone knows of a good, relaxing, non stressful part time summer job that needs to be filled in the Chicago vicinity please feel free to let me know. Or if you have a connection with a school in the area that won't fuck it's teachers over - that would also be helpful.

I can't even imagine what it is like to not have a paycheck when I am legally employed. I've heard of these stories, even had friends that worked in slightly shady situations where paychecks were less than dependable, but never have I lived through it myself. Every job I've had it has been as regular as the sun rising that I would receive a paycheck every other week, or the first and the fifteenth, or whatever schedule the structure determined. I've never worked a job based on commission - the closest I've been is waitressing, but even then I got my $2.34 an hour (though after taxes it often wasn't worth it to pay the $5 fee to cash at the bank across the street if you didn't have an account somewhere else). It boggles my mind in a way that I can't begin to grasp, and I don't like that.

The logical, idea forming side of my brain has to believe that a plan will be worked out. Concessions will be made and lives may be altered for the next few months, but in the end she will make it. Thank god it's summer and the idea of walking places is not so formidable. The other side of me, the side that is ruled by my heart and my emotions though is wrecked. That side just doesn't understand how crazy, fucked up shit like this happens to good people. People who go out and try and make a difference in this crazy fucked up world.

So, I've had my rant - mini as it may be. Thanks for reading/listening and again, if you have a dog that needs walking or some other gig that you know of, feel free to let me know and I will pass along the information.

Might as well still be up north

With the weather the way it is in Chicago today, I feel as though I might as well of stayed in the north woods of Wisconsin. But alas, all vacations must come to an end at some point - unless you're one of those people whose whole lives are wonderful and every day feels like a vacation, in that case you can go "bleep" yourselves (trying to do a little self censoring, not sure how it's working so far).

The trip was great. Relaxing and filled with beer and whiskey, just the way camping is supposed to be in my humble opinion. The only thing I regret is racing back to the city (though sitting out the hail storm protected by my mothers mini van as opposed to a tarp Sunday afternoon was well worth it). I scored more points than ever in the horseshoe tournament on Sunday - I think next year I will have to schedule a departure date of Monday so I can stay and see how far my luck can take me. I brought 4 books, of which I read none (though I did pick up one my brother brought and paged through that for a bit). I got a bit of a t-shirt burn pattern going on, but nothing that won't fade in a few days time. All in all, well worth it.

Now I'm back, wandering around my apartment while the rest of the world works around me. I may have to finally do those dishes that are still staring at me from before my departure but not before I sneak in an afternoon showing tomorrow of Indiana Jones.

Hope everyone had a nice, warm, holiday weekend.

Not doing the dishes

I'm headed out for a much needed vacation that includes the ancient art of cleansing the mind, body, and soul through whiskey and camping. It's going to be great. I postponed my departure date thinking I could squeeze in a few more tasks before I settled into my oh so comfortable bus seat to home. I'm almost finished packing. I've had a nice little dance party while flattening my hair and listening to Ani, Panic at the Disco, Elvis, and Tufts Beeelzebubs. I watched some Oprah. I am embracing the vacation spirit. I am not doing the dishes in my sink. Not making the bed. Not picking up the clothes that didn't make the cut. My one resignation? I will try and take the garbage out as I head for the train (though this week it's mostly empty beer bottles).

Hope everyone has a great holiday weekend doing whatever it is they do to celebrate whatever the reason is we always get this Monday off in May. I'm going to go get flung.

Living life one word at a time

Sometimes you just have to let go of conventional thinking and play outside the box. Even in the small things in life, oh say like Scrabble, you just have to ignore the rules and make it up as you go along. That folks is what I seem to be doing these days. And this is the photographic proof of it.

It's missing the top row, but you get the idea. My favorites? Sunked, Sqat, and Jizz with the blank tile that turned Tune into Tunez. Too bad we didn't keep score, would have been interesting.

100 posts

According to my sign in page I currently have 99 posts...I wonder if that counts the dozen or so drafts that I never got back to? Either way "Happy 100 to me!"

The madness of my life is over for now and thank you to everyone who put up with me this past month while work was getting crazier and crazier. We did a smashing job and now I have time to breathe again, in fact I did such a stellar job that the boss let me take today off - and I'm going to use it the best of my ability. It's going to be in the 70's today here in the windy city and the brief outing I had this morning to forage for coffee from the deliciously staffed Beans and Bagels on Rockwell proved to be delightfully warm out at 9 am. I have since come home, dragged out my picnic blanket from the back of the closet and will be venturing out around noon for some Wells park lounging and reading. It's going to be great.

The weather is warming up which always puts me in better mood - the adventures of the past 24 hours haven't hurt either. Sorry folks, no sordid details on the blog on this one, I learned my lesson the hard way last time. Plus this is so far from conventional, regular, or typical that there really is not much to say except yes, that is a big old smile you see on my face.

The world around me? Let's see, Edwards has come out for Obama but the rumor is his wife hasn't (though since I haven't had time to read an article longer than 2 paragraphs long I'm not sure how much validity that rumor has). And honestly when I heard the news I wasn't too impressed - this election season has sucked the life out of me and I just want it to be done with an end result of McCain losing. California has overturned the gay marriage ban - which is about damn time, I have no room in my heart, ideology or belief structure for a culture that writes into its laws a ban on love based on the gender of the individuals involved, it's just fucking stupid. The polar bear has been moved to the endangered species list and the Tribune ran an article on Thursday with the saddest/most adorable picture of said polar bear on the front page. I wish I would have remembered to clip it and hang it on the fridge (those of us without kids have to improvise refrigerator art).

Coming up - my favorite camping trip of the year, Spring Fling, complete with bloody mary church service on Sunday, horseshoe tournaments, and late night whiskey. A girls night out with some of my favorite former co-workers. The formation of a kickball league in which I plan on sitting on the sidelines with a book and witty commentary. Public Enemy reuniting for the Pitchfork festival (please someone say they will go to this with me!). Half day Friday's for the summer. My best friend from high schools 30th birthday. A possible trip to Atlantic City (which I learned you can't actually fly to oddly enough, the closest Expedia.com can get me is somewhere in Pennsylvania and then I have to rent a car). My 2 year anniversary in Chicago which I believe necessitates a party or a new tattoo, or both.

I'm off to enjoy the sunshine - hope everyone else is having a fantastic day (and I also hope you all go see Iron Man, trust me it's worth it)