At Least I Know Where I Stand

The bartender and I are watching a rerun of the Top Chef reunion/viewer's choice show, which he has already seen.

Bartender: So who do you think wins? It should be obvious.
Me: Should it? I have no idea.
Bartender: Come on, who do you think people will vote for? Which one would people choose?
Me: Well, I would vote for whoever I thought was funnies-
Bartender (interrupting): No, not you. People!

Happy Halloween

Here is a pumpkin that I've carved for you (well, for my roommate and also my own self-gratification, but the nice thing about jack-o-lanterns is that they can be enjoyed by everyone):

For those of you not obsessed with Mike Ness, he's supposed to be this guy:
I think we can all agree I'm very talented at this, even if I've become an extremely lazy/terrible blogger.

Football

Suck it, Ravens.

Everyone Needs Loving Friendships

E-mail to the intern this morning: [Coworker] says, "Speaking of douches, how's [the intern]?"

E-mail from the intern: I would say that is probably one of the top ten worst ways to strike up a friendly conversation.



Anyone have suggestions for the other nine?

If That's Moving Up Than I'm Moving Out

My boyfriend, the agent, is getting ready to move next week, and I'm not sure I like the change in neighbors. Right now he lives next door to a guy I call American Idol. American Idol amuses the hell out of me. I've never seen the guy. I have heard him though, because he sings very loudly, very badly and very often. He really means it too. He sings huge epic Celine Dion type songs in a wobbly vibrato that is only slightly off key. His music is best enjoyed from the bathroom which seems to be directly opposite his bedroom. He will be missed.

On the other side, there is La Casa Fiesta. They always have something to celebrate, which they do by encouraging the kids to run around half the night to the sounds of pre-recorded mariachis. I frequently have inexplicable urges to go out and buy maracas.

Directly above the agent live the Lead People. At first I assumed giants must be living up there, based on the heavy sound of their walking. Then I saw them coming up the back stairs and they appear to be normal sized. This is how I surmised they must be made of lead, because their outside appearance couldn't account for the extreme loudness of their footfalls. I told the agent about it and urged him not to lick them; understandably he balked at this comment, as he's not in the habit of licking his neighbors.

Though all these people can be slightly annoying at times, such as when I'm trying to sleep, they are all quite charming compared to the new neighbor I encountered on my first visit to see the new place. After the agent took me on the tour we went out the back door. I looked up and saw The Biggest Spider I Have Ever Seen In My Life*. "Ok," I said, "THAT has to go or I am never ever coming back here again." Even the agent, friend of all living creatures, agreed that it was exceptionally huge. I ran from the porch like it was on fire and stood by the car watching it spin its GIANT web. The agent came to check on me, but I had already crossed the threshold into full on crazy: "Look at it! It's as big as my fist!" The next time we went over it was gone, but I don't know. You can't trust those monsters.

All in all, though I'll miss the vocal stylings of American Idol and head shattering percussion of the Lead People, as long as the spiders stay away, I'm very excited about the new place. Stay away from me spiders.

*Live. Thanks to Eric for the e-mail containing a photo of a camel spider from Iraq. That thing was like a freaking lobster and the sight prevented me from eating for an entire day.

Avast, Land Lubbers!

Today be Talk Like A Pirate Day. Go out and get some grog me hearties.

Slide, Slide, Slippity-Slide

Apparently Coolio has been doing what he does just to survive, because today is his birthday. He is 44. I find this amusing because I sincerely thought he was younger, and also because I feel like he shouldn't even have a birthday at all because he doesn't seem like a real person.

I learned this startling piece of information on the Captivate Network, which for the non modern high rise working set, is a news service that appears on tiny screens inside of elevators. It struck me funny that Coolio's birthday was included as a piece of news today: Is today a slow birthday day and that's the only celebrity they could find, or is the programmer stuck in a time warp, still listening to Coolio albums unironically more than halfway through 2007? It's a mystery.

As usual, the best part is the thing that is happening in my head. Because I keep imagining people coming up to Coolio yelling "Happy Birthday!" and reaching to give him a nice birthday hug...but his hair keeps poking everyone in the eye.

Happy birthday, Coolio. I hope you are still having a fantastic voyage through gangster's paradise.

Amberance Is Losing Her Touch

H-Town: yo
me: word
H-Town: what up?
me: just work. you?
H-Town: the same
bored
me: that should have been "just work. et tu?"
H-Town: heh
me: it would have been funnier
H-Town: you failed
way to go, loser
me: NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!
H-Town: *ends friendship*

Moderation In All Things...

Except Cheddar Chex Mix, where I am apparently compelled to eat the entire bag.

99 Pink Balloons

I am sick and heavily medicated. Don't judge me.

me: so what was the clown car thing before? is someone having quadruplets or something?
H-town: friends and i were just discussing women who have a lot of babies
it's a vagina, not a clown car
so we laughed at that
me: i love that phrase
H-town: me too
me: i don't want lots of babies. clowns are scary
H-town: true dat
clowns are weird
weird = able to stab people at any time
me: i don't really understand clowns. the only thing is i like the ones that are good at making balloon animals. but i think maybe you don't have to be a clown to learn that
H-town: you don't
me: if i knew how to do that i'd make a bunch of obscene things probably. that's how i roll
H-town: balloon wangs would be easy to make, i'd want to see you make balloon cootchies
that's a challenge
complete with different colored balloons
me: i was thinking a balloon vagina with a bunch of balloon clowns coming out of it
H-town: hahaha
i'd pay you money to make that
me: if i ever learn this craft, that will be my goal

The 2nd Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Today is my half birthday! What is that? It's the day that is exactly 6 months after my last birthday and 6 months before my next one. A sort of birthday equinox if you will. And mine is today.

This may seem silly to you but think about it: am I not a completely silly person? Exactly. Also until recently I was not into my birthday. All through my early 20s I dreaded it. I took to laying in bed all day in a funk, being overly dramatic and complaining: (huge affected sigh) "I don't know WHAT I'm going to do. My life is slipping away, slipping away...." Clearly this was entirely the wrong attitude, so really I NEED to celebrate all my half birthdays to make up for all the ones I missed while I was busy being a miserable person.

Much like on my actual birthday, I am making a huge deal out of it. I sent the following text to a half dozen of my friends just now:

It's my half birthday! Come to Tai's later and watch me bounce off of stuff!

My friends can best be described as tolerant.

I think when I get older I'll start celebrating quarter birthdays as well. If people complain I can look at them gravely and say "You never know when you're going to go." Maybe a bit of a downer, but I'm guessing they will all end up buying me a drink.

Rainbow Brite Revisited

I have received several angry messages from friends due to my sucky posting habits asking for pictures of my new hair, so without further ado I give you...me:





Please note my posed posture and come hither look. This is because Melle secretly wants to be a fashion photographer, also evidenced here:



Descriptions thus far have ranged from "Rainbow Brite had sex with you hair!" to "A gay pride parade threw up on your head":


Personally I enjoy it. Commence with comments from the peanut gallery...now.

Reading Comprehension

In the following sentence, which of the underlined words appears out of place but actually isn't?



Last night, I went to Uncle Julio's to drink alcohol and eat cheese with my boyfriend.

Rainbow Brite

Today Melle plans to "explore Roy G. Biv" on my head.

Pros and Cons

The interns last day in the office was this past Thursday. This has both benefits and drawbacks:

• Pro - There will be no one here to talk me into getting ice cream that I don't need or drinking a margarita on our lunch break (true story).
• Con - There will be no one to go to lunch with, period.
• Pro - No one will be interrupting a conversation I am having with my boss by throwing a stress ball at me over the cubicle wall.
• Con - Said stress ball will also not bounce once and then land in my cup of tea, thereby cracking me up.
• Pro - I will not feel guilty when I don't have any work for him to do.
• Con - I will not feel guilty for not doing my own work because the intern and I decided to watch Charlie the Unicorn or Weird Al videos on YouTube.

"I bet you eat the crap out of some lobster."
"No, she wears pants, but they're not THE pants."
"Why don't you suck a bag of dicks?"
"Someone has to piss excellence around here."
Intern, you will be missed.

The Way To My Heart Is Apparently Through My Apartment

Funny what life throws in your lap. Boys for example.

I haven't had any funny stories to post lately, mainly because I'm spending all of my time with a boy who is not MrSteve nor the bartender nor the owner and my stories about those events are not particularly funny: they are sappy, and cutesy, and romantic, and disturbingly cheerful and likely to make the average Bizzybiz reader throw up. Not that funny things don't happen - it's just that they are pretty much inside jokes that only I and this boy would find funny. Who has an actual name by the way, but I haven't quite asked him if it was OK to blog about him and I can't think of a good blogname (Captain Awesome? Smiley McSmileson? Hey You, Nice Ass?) so for now he will just be some boy I am dancing around telling you about.

My point though, was that I wasn't looking for this boy. I had decided quite honestly that it was OK to be single forever and ever amen since I have such wicked awesome friends. "Find a boy" was not on my to-do list. "Find an apartment" is what was on the list. The ridiculously hot music and baseball loving leasing agent with the great sense of humor and the smile that will make you lose consciousness due to it's brilliance was wholly unexpected.

I have become a cliche. It's a good thing I'm so good at making fun of myself.

I Watched Spinal Tap This Week

MrSteve: Out? In? On the moon?
Me: Home, but I wish I could hang out on the moon!
MrSteve: Pity. The moon would be cool.
Me: I know. I would be bouncing all over the place
MrSteve: And that would be different from regular you how?
Me: Well obviously because I could bounce higher what with the lower gravity
MrSteve: My point was that you bounce quite happily about under 1 g.
Me: Right but on the moon I could bounce up to 11

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

So the guy that called the police when he found a skull boiling in a pot at some guys house? Yeah, we know that guy. He's a hairdresser and part time drag queen. His brother cuts the bartender's hair. We saw him at the Social Distortion show last October dressed up like a cat with giant boobs and platform shoes.

Chicago. It's a small town, it just happens to have 3 million people in it.

Fredrick the Entertainer

About forever ago I had bought tickets to see Naked Raygun and their special guests Dillinger 4 at House of Blues. The show was Friday night, and I took Melle as payback for her strong arming me into the Scissor Sisters show a few months back (although I have to admit, a man in black and white vertical striped, sequin super short shorts dry humping an amp does have a degree of entertainment value). The best thing about punk rock shows is the people - you never know what kind of characters you're going to meet. In this particular case we met Freddie.

Freddie is a chubby, bald (I couldn't tell if this was by nature or on purpose) 26 year old. He was at the show with his step-brother Lou, or as Freddie called him "Lou-dog". Freddie could accurately be described as "high-strung". Our conversation started when Freddie decided that Melle was carrying a fake ID, because it was obvious to him that she was not 26. In fairness to Freddie, she did tell him she was "going to be 27" which is technically true, but made it look like she was lying as she will not actually be 27 for another 8 months. I was slightly offended that he was not at all troubled when I told him I was 29.

Freddie quickly noticed Melle's tattoo, which is hard not to do because it is beautiful and also covers half her arm. We were then given a rundown of Freddie's various tattoos. "This is my dad's initials, and this one is for my mom. You see this one here? That one says 'strength through struggle', which is important. I got that one when I was straight-edge." I found it hard to believe that Freddie, who was drunk off his ass, was ever straight-edge and I told him so. "Well, I mean, except for the drugs. But my friends were straight-edge." He insisted to us several times that this particular tattoo was "important", even though it was obvious to me he wasn't gaining any strength and was clearly losing his struggle. "Then these, do you see these?" he asked, pointing to some dark patches on his forearm. "These are cigarette burns. There's another fresh one under this band aid too. These are all from my buddies that died. I had three buddies die in the last year, so I burned myself with a cigarette for each one so I'd remember, you know? That's what we do in my neighborhood."

I didn't know and neither did Melle. But as stupid as the whole thing seemed it got worse when we asked him where he was from that this is what they do in his neighborhood, and he told us Rogers Park (home of Loyola University Chicago and a Jesuit religious order).

Freddie also seems to lack a short-term memory. A guy went past us trying to get closer to the stage and elbowed Freddie a little bit in the process. Freddie flipped out. "Fuck man! Did you see that guy? He fuckin hit me right in the fuckin face! I'm gonna go fuckin kill that guy!" The guy hadn't actually hit Freddie in the face, unless he had a second face on his upper chest. In preparation to go fuckin kill that guy, he did the athlete pour with the rest of his beer. This is the thing where you open your mouth and pour your beverage over your tongue and down the whole front of your shirt without actually swallowing anything. He then threw his empty on the ground with authority and started for the stairs. I grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him and told him it wasn't worth it to get thrown out right at the start of Naked Raygun's set. This stopped him from going but he continued to stand there, breathing heavily and fuming.

Ten minutes later he erupted again. "No man, fuck it, I'm gonna go kill that fuckin guy that spilled beer all over my shirt. Fuck! Look at what he did to my shirt!" Melle and I looked at Lou-dog who just shrugged with resignation. It was clear he'd been to shows with Freddie before.

Eventually we had to part with Freddie and Lou-Dog because Melle had obliterated her liver, but I will always think fondly of him and his crazy cigarette burning ways. And that's how to attend a punk rock show.

Amberance: Guru

MrSteve: Back when my job was fun, today would have been a perfect day to go for a test drive.
Me: Yeah, well, eventually everything starts to suck.

later...

MrSteve: I have to start looking for a new place soon as well.
Me: Really? why?
MrSteve: Because I hate my place. The only thing keeping me there was the garage and now she says she needs her garage back. Actually, I'm thinking about maybe leaving here altogether to go somewhere else.
Me: Seriously? Why would you leave Chicago? Chicago is awesome! I'm going to live here forever!
MrSteve: As a wise philosopher once said, "Eventually everything starts to suck."