New mantra

Big girls don't cry... They eat Christmas cookies.

Welcome to Birthday month: Nicole, Jesus, and Me!

As I write to you, the cat's tail is whipping my exposed plumber's crack.  She must think it's funny.

I think I woke up in the twilight zone today. I just feel all ass backwards and upside down.  Maybe it's because today's the first day I haven't been called into work. Oh joy of joys... Shit. Need a new job.
It literally blew my night when I got that e-mail.

I hope you know that yesterday I started a journey back to Chicago at 10am and did not step foot inside my own apartment until 7:30pm.

Step 1: Mom drove me to the Poughkeepsie Amtrak station (.5 hours)
Step 2: Got on Amtrak to New York City (1.5 hours)
Step 3: Got into Penn Station, had to then navigate myself to the corner of 33rd and 7th Ave (.5 hours)
Step 3: Got in a van that I thought was going to LaGuardia
Step 4: Ended up at Grand Central station (20 minutes)
Step 5: Got on bus to LaGuardia (.5 hours)
Step 6: Got my ticket, went through ridiculous New York security lines, and waited for a delayed plane (1.5 hours)
Step 7: Sat on plane for an additional 30 minutes waiting... (30 minutes...)
Step 8: Flew to Chicago (2 hours), landed in O'Hare... waited some more (.5 hours)
Step 9: Got on the blue line (.5 hours)
Step 10: Got off the blue line and on the Belmont bus (.5 hours)
Step 11: Noticed it was snowing... Walked down the block to Art of Pizza and picked up 2 slices and an iced tea (15 minutes)
Step 12: Opened the doors to my apartment where BECKY was preparing a dinner for meeeeeeeeeeeeee! And NICOLE and RYAN were there to listen about my journey and give me wine and p-funks. (now 7:30 pm)

Ah, and Steps 13-20 are just eating, laughing, hanging out, and watching the rough cut of a movie we filmed this summer.  I have to admit, until now I have never missed Richmond more. Watching my friends sweat bullets, drink 40's, ride bikes, and break things made me want to go back to RVA and just hanggg OUT. This summer was good. Speaking of summer, WHERE DID YOU GO? There's snow on the ground and more falling today.

Just realized I have no clever way to end this. SOMEONE HIRE ME. Goodbye.

Thanksgivvy

Hey Blog,

Happy Thanksgiving.
My Pop pop died yesterday morning. I spent all day yesterday grieving, sleeping, crying, sleeping some more, and putting up a Christmas tree.  I am feeling less crazy today. My mom was fortunate enough to be with him when he took his last breath. She told him his parents were waiting for him, and that made me feel better.
The funeral is not until Saturday, so I am spending Thanksgiving here in Chicago surrounded by good friends and food. I am honored because my grandmother asked me to read a passage during the service. My brother and I will both be doing that. It almost reminds me of my grandfather's birthday back in 2001.  We surprised him at church. My brother and I processed in holding the torches and he was completely blown away.  Yeah, I was a big churchy kid growing up. Served on the altar as an acolyte and loved it.

Anyway, the service will be special.  It will be in New York in the church my parents were married in and I was baptized in.  It's church my grandmother still serves on the altar guild for.  All of my family will be there and I am excited to be "home". 

I am very content.  Sitting here on the futon, Christmas tree lit up, sipping a glass of wine with Kait and Ryan, Hawks on in the background (side note, I just mistyped the last word as Bachround. Is that when Bach is playing music in the background? Maybe. Was that a terrible attempt at a joke? Most definitely).  Just made a peach and berry pie I am freezing until tomorrow.  Kait just put on some Coheed-- Haha, feeling nostalgic.  Nicole and Eric are on the way home with Ian's special this month, Thanksgiving pizza!!!  That's turkey, gravy, stuffing, and I think mashed potatoes.  On a pizza.  Can't wait.

They're here now. So I'm going to stuff my face tonight and then fast for the rest of the day tomorrow.
Quickly just wanted to say
Eric just asked me to type a paragraph about him... Not happening.
I forgot to mention last night my roommates gave me daises and we went out for Mexican.  Queso, Salsa, Chimichangas, and Margaritas!  It was delicious and the perfect remedy to a terrible no good very bad day.
I told the ladies for my birthday I wanted to get mani pedis at this place that also massages you. Nicole then said "Where?" and I said, "This place on Southport" she then replied, "No... Where do they massage you?"

Okay, Blog... Anyway. It's freaking cold here. And it's supposed to snow tomorrow.  I hope so.
I'll talk to you after I come back from New York.
Love you like a half sister.

Sick and stupid

First of all, this post is over two weeks old when I wrote it. I guess I never posted it... So here it is, whoever wants to waste a good 10 minutes of their time, I promise by the end of this you'll be saying, "Dang, she stupid."

Okay, so I'm sick and stupid and here's why:

Woke up this morning coughing up little bits of lung and called my step mom for help.  She told me I could call this service provided by my temporary insurance policy that allows me to talk to a doctor, tell him my symptoms, and have a prescription be phoned into the pharmacy.  I said, "What is this Europe?" Seriously, if that's not wave of the future, I don't know what is.  So awesome.  So anyway, my doctor was a real delight, great and easy to talk to.  He prescribed me some antibiotics for a sinus infection.  Great. So my step mom reminds me to print off my new drug card to bring into the pharmacy to pick up the prescription.  Great.  Oh wait... Shit.  I've gone super long without replacing the black ink in my printer (Even so far as a few weeks ago I printed my resume off in a very dark navy blue. Say something! Ink ain't cheap!)  I quickly resigned myself to the fact that I was a total dummy for putting off buying ink for this long and now I'm going to have to pay.  So I put on all my gear; coat, hat, scarf, I get all bundled up and head out down the street to the Office Depot.  The worst part about this experience, let me just say, the Office Depot is conveniently situated right next to the pahrmacy I have to go to... Not like I can just pick my prescription up though after I buy the ink-- I still have to go home and print off the drug card, remember? My stupid ass... I literally hate myself for not getting to this printer sooner, typical me.  So two trips, here we go...

So I'm crossing the parking lot, fighting to breathe in the harsh 45 degree air, and literally as the two sliding doors open on me I stop and think "Son of a... Did I even CHECK to see the specific TYPE of ink I need?"  No. The short answer is no. I most certainly did not.

So I'm sick and stupid.  I bought what I thought I needed and thank GOD, I got the right one.  The sales clerk had a nice laugh at my expense, though.

So I got home, loaded up the printer, printed the drug card, and headed BACK OUT to the Jewel to get this medicine.  Of course, OF COURSE the pharmacist then tells me I printed the wrong card.  So then he tells me I have to pay full price, print the right card and bring it back for reimbursement.

Which I never did.

Sick and stupid, sick and stupid.

Carol and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

It's been a rough a week. I'm struggling to find the humor, couldn't find it, so Susan and I saw the free show at iO last night. A human slip and slide brought me to tears. That was great. I can't wait to get through today and go to class tomorrow.

I'm trying to stay strong for my brother who was basically just raped in court yesterday. I feel like America has an easier time pointing the finger at the "neglectful father" which angers me so much I could punch a candyless pinata! My brother is the best father I can think of. I'm not exaggerating. I honestly figured, when I first heard he would be having a child, he'd have no clue how to take care of a little girl. But he's been taking care of me, his little sis, now for almost 23 years, for my whole life. He's had a lot of practice and so I have to give him some credit. I love my brother and couldn't be more proud of the maturity he's displaying while going through this.

Another big weight on my mind is my grandfather. He's currently in the hospital with pneumonia. The doctor says while he was being fed in the nursing home, he must have aspirated some food that caused the infection. The antibiotics seem to be working now, but the bad news is he still can't feed himself properly so they're considering a feeding tube. That's great and all, but if he has the feeding tube, he won't be allowed to go back to the nursing home. My mom says she thinks this is the end. I don't want to believe it.

It's extremely tough for me to see the strongest man in my life go through this. I don't know anyone tougher, wiser, and funnier than my Poppie. I was so touched to hear that when they brought him in and put the oxygen mask on him he looked up at my grandmother and asked if he was dying. She looked down at him and said, "You're not going anywhere without me!" That's true love. I only hope when I am urinating myself and can't even bring a spoon to my mouth, the love of my life will still be by my side.

My only fear is that by the time I get to my grandparents house for Christmas, it'll be too late. I have to see my Poppie again, I miss him too much. I've decided on getting a Whip-poor-will tattoo (My mom's going to kill me if she's reading this). My grandparent's lake house in the Adirondacks was named after the bird, and I go back to that special place in my mind when I think about them.

So, needless to say, a lot of SHIT is going on. More than I even mentioned-- but a girl can only complain so much in one blog post, right?

Update: Poppie is back in the nursing home, isn't on any sort of IV fluids or feeding tube because of their policies about that. They are continuing to give him his pills and feed him but if he chokes on anything, that's it. He's DNR, do not resusitate. He's asked for that.

Note to self:

Never take Tylenol PM in the AM...  Especially when you have work at 9.


Duh.

Did I mention...?

On my commute home from work a few weeks ago the train was packed.  I'm assuming that all of the Northbound Brown Line trains were running late because by the time I got up to the platform it was overflowing with people-- not normal.

Anyway, I was forced to stand and hold a pole for balance but was so wedged in by others that I didn't really have a good grip.   Did I also mention I had no cash to get on the train that day so I was forced to run down to 7-11 and buy a $1.99 Gatorade to get cash back to put on my CTA card in order to avoid the $3.00 ATM fee?

So there I am, wedged in and gripping my purse, a pole, and a sealed full bottle of Gatorade on a train that was running late.  I guess because of the lateness, the conductor saw the need to speed down the tracks in order to make up for lost time.  Then... it happened.  The conductor slammed the breaks as he was approaching a stop and my 20 ounces of delicious Fierce Grapey goodness goes FLYING and hits the wall of the train, ricocheting off and hitting the head of a seated female passenger then continues to fall onto her PREGNANT belly.

Oh
My
Dear
Lord

I have never been more mortified in my life.  Forget the fact that I lost my footing and fell into the man standing next to me-- sure that would have been enough to make me blush but instead I had to flipping injure this poor and unsuspecting pregnant woman's unborn child.

Fast forward 10 years from now... I'm probably the reason that kid won't understand math.

My big dumb face, deal with it

First post of Halloween month!  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, it feels good.
Speaking of which...

I've been thinking about this for a while now.  Sometimes I just want to smile.  I just want to walk down the street or ride my bike or sit on the train and smile.  I follow my instincts and I do smile for a few seconds and then something always stops me.  It's that fear that other people are going to look at me like I'm crazy.

My question is... Why the hell do I care so much?  I mean really.  Why can't I be that girl that's smiling in a sea of miserably jaded Chicagoans?  I mean, think about it.  I have a lot to smile about.  I'm alive-- for one. I'm walking and talking and thinking and feeling.  And god dammit... I am loved.  I have every reason to smile.

I guess what's been holding me back is the thought that others are going to suddenly turn on me like, "What's that bitch so happy about?  How dare she be happy about anything."  So I stop myself every time.

This is a formal apology to the world-  Sorry I look a dope who can't stop smiling while listening to my ipod and riding home from a really rewarding and challenging night of class.  I can't help it.  I want to be happy.

Truly, what I wish would happen every time is that maybe one person will catch me out of the corner of their eye and smile too.  Because, after all, isn't mood infectious?  It is.  I can honestly say I have had some pretty shitty days when the lady in the mail room has had one too and decides to take it out on me.  If I have learned anything about people, it's that you can really make any stranger's day, for better or worse, with the mood you project to the world.

I'm not saying you're not allowed to feel down and depressed some days... We ALL have those days, that's fine.  But what I'm getting at is if I am in a good mood for being alive, and I want to smile for my 30 minute train ride downtown, God Dammit, I'm gunna!  And if someone is having a terrible morning-- like maybe their cat just puked in their favorite pair of shoes after they missed their morning alarm clock only to wake up to a note left by their significant other detailing the reasons why they're leaving them for the last time... well I can only hope my dumb smiling face brings them the tiniest piece of joy.  You know, like maybe there's hope in humanity-- maybe not every stranger has something out for you too.

After all, tomorrow is another day.  (Name that quote and win a cookie)

Pet peeves

I think my biggest pet peeve is when you're sitting next to someone, and ONLY their arm hair touches your arm hair.  It gives me the heeby-jeebies.  ICK.

Likes and dislikes

I like...  hot sauce.

I dislike... people who refrigerate hot sauce.

I like... blond eyelashes.

I dislike... gingers.

I like... a lot of things.

I dislike... girls with handcuff accessories.

I'm going home for the weekend.  See ya, Chi!

A couple of fools

Hung-OVER. I'm over it. Literally, this sucks. Remind me to never, ever, EVER order another $5 Pomegranate Long Island Iced Tea from Joey's. It may sound like a good idea, but it tastes like Jungle Juice- not the canned kind, but the kind you consumed copious amounts of freshman year at upperclassmen parties. Remember the hangover you got from that sugary mess? Yeah, I guess the lesson learned is to always remember that terrible feeling and pull yourself up by the bootstraps and JUST SAY NO to a $5 drink from hell. Just because it's $5 doesn't make it worth it.

So now that I’m done with that- what I will rant about next may be a little offensive (I was personally offended when approached about it last night) so be forewarned. The story begins around 11pm last night. Mr. Landon Nagle was in town and a bunch of us got together at the "old stomping ground" (if you could call it that, Joey's Brickhouse) (see note above). After we challenged Gerber to an Iced Tea chugging contest (I can only imagine how HE must feel today, haha) we decided to pay our tabs and continue drinking for much less at Marie and Sater's. First of all, I’d like to give a shout out my roommates who BOLTED out the door without me. One of them goes by the title of Miss Shrimp and the other is Becky. Jerks. Thankfully, Gerber was kind enough to wait for me to finish and we headed out onto the street. As he was unlocking his bike, this kid, all dressed in white, jumps up off a bench outside the bar and yells at me (I have decided to continue this as a dialogue below for your entertainment)


Kid: HEY, I’M NOT FROM AROUND HERE I ALMOST JUST GOT ARRESTED AND I NEED TO KNOW WHERE DIVERSITY IS.

Me: You mean Diversey?

Kid: Yeah, where is Diversity?

Me: You mean Diversey?

Kid: Look, I’m from the South-

Me: Me too, we’re from Virginia.

Kid: Oh okay! We’re from Louisiana and my friend here [refers to a sloppy kid behind him also clad in all white slumped on the bench] really needs to get to bed and we almost just got arrested. We need to get to Diversity.

Me: You mean Diversey?

Kid: Yeah, Diversity.


[This is where Gerber interjects thus sending us on a wild ride of hilarity]


Gerber: [Pointing in a million directions at once] Diversey is North of here, no South, no wait, it’s definitely East because…. [blah blah blah blah]

Me: [Arguing with Gerber at this point] No, I definitely no it’s that way [Also pointing in a million directions at once] because I pass the Diversey stop on the brown line every day.

Gerber: No, no, it’s definitely- wait, where are you trying to get to anyway?

Kid: Okay, so just a little bit ago we were down at the red line stop and I swiped my card to get in [to spare you the entire story, basically this kid tried to use his card twice to get him and his friend in the station, dumbasses should have just bought another fare card] So now we can’t go back because this asshole cop said that if we go back there he’d arrest us. We just need to get to Loyolla… or DePaul.

Gerber: Ohhh, you need to get to DePaul? I can tell you how to get there- wait, which campus?

Kid: You guys are from the south, do you know the difference between a black person and a N*gger? [I know what you’re thinking and YEAH, HE JUST SAID THAT!]

Me and Gerber: Uhhhhhhhhh………… WHAT?

Kid: You guys know the difference, right?

Me: No. What the hell are you talking about? Let’s just go [I start walking away]

Gerber: [Trying to engage this piece of shit kid in a conversation to teach him a lesson] No, wait. I think you got the wrong impression here. We’re not going to relate to you just because we’re also white and we’re from the south. We aren’t racist.

Kid: All I’m saying is that that asshole cop wouldn’t let us into the train station because we were white. He was a real N*gger, you know what I mean?



This shit continues for like another 5 minutes and all I want to do is literally sprint away from these two ignorant children and just go hang out with my friends and have fun and just ignore the fact that people like this actually exist. But Gerber insists on teaching these kids a lesson so I reluctantly stick around. I guess you could call me a coward for wanting to leave- but for some reason it seemed like a battle I knew I could go on trying to fight valiantly but end up losing in the end. I have learned from experience that trying to fight ignorance is one of the toughest battles you can ever choose. It’s exhausting. Can I also, one again, touch on the fact that not only were they dressed in all white- angels? Hardly. But they were asking me how to get to a made up street named Diversity? Alanis Morisette would call that ironic.

More importantly though, I’d like to note that I am so very thankful to be the person I am. I am so grateful for all the training I have received from VCU and TCP that has taught me to be open and accepting. I love that I am an artist and I see the world and all of the people in it and appreciate life. I am so lucky to have the friends that I have, such beautiful people who want to better the sad ignorance.

I wish, more than anything, those kids could get lost in the wrong neighborhood and get the shit beaten out of them for being such low-lifes. But, no. My amazing friend took the time to tell them how to get to where they were going because in the end, we're all human. I was so proud, and I will continue to be proud of him and any one of my friends who would have done the same thing. I only wish I could possess the same amount of patience for such fools. I love my friends.


PS today is September 11th.  Such blind hate that those two children possess is the same that has taken the lives of thousands on this day 9 years ago.  I am an American and I am grateful for all the freedoms this country has given to me by just being born here.  Although I understand those two kids are entitiled to their opinions, I hope that someday everyone is of the same mindset that we should be holding one another up and not tearing our fellow neighbor down for differences in religion, beliefs, or skin tone.

Moving to Chicago -- A Recap

For those of you that will read this, I hope you appreciate the title of this blog.  If you know anything about me at all, you would know that I am one of, if not the biggest, complainer on the planet.  I've learned to embrace this (negative) attribute by channelling my daily adventures and misadventures into a blog.  Oh yeah and it's a Mates of State reference.  Duh.  But you'd only get that part if you were cool enough.  (That reminds me: go download some MoS now.  I suggest the new album, "Re-Arrange Us")

Anyway, what's up with me?  So glad that I asked.  I just moved to Chicago, IL at the beginning of August.  Graduated in May from school with a theatre degree in my hand and hopes and dreams shoved into my pockets like soggy wet oatmeal you wanted to save after that Holiday Inn cost you $50 a night and the least they could do was let you steal stuff from the continental breakfast that forced you to wake up between the ungodly hours of 8 and 9 am.  So yeah, a degree and soggy-wet-pockets full of dreams.  Oh and four amazingly talented and caring roommates, and a ton of fellow alumni.  And I'm sure I know what you're thinking- it's exactly what every local that I have met thus far has been asking me, "Why Chi-cAAHHHHRRR-go?"  (Every mid-westner talks like that, trust me.)  First of all, stop asking me that.  Secondly, 'cause I wanted to!  I'll answer this question one last god damned time:  I'm here for the atmosphere, a taste of a big city away from home and school, iO, Second City, The Annoyance, The Playground, Comedy Sportz, Chicago style hot dogs complete with celery salt and a pickle, Lake Michigan and when it freezes over in the winter, Culture, Festivals, cheap and clean and convenient public transportation to wherever it is you want to go, night life, friends, DANK pizza (Sup, Giordanos? Oh and if you haven't tried Ian's special this month which happens to be Crab Rangoon pizza, GET ON IT!), and Oprah.  Okay the last one was supposed to make you laugh.  But all the rest is true.

And so far I've been able to experience most of that, and I'm sure there is more to see and do along the way.  Yeah yeah yeah, don't remind how cold this winter will be.  I'm sure you'll regret reminding me once you check back to this blog to read how much I can actually complain about it.  Good news is, you can stop reading at any time.  However, I strongly suggest that you continue- just in case you are personally mentioned somewhere in the body of text and I happen to make fun of you.  In fact, why don't you save yourself some time and do a quick search of the page for your name.  Go ahead, scan for it.  It might be there.  And after it it might say "I secretly hate the shit out of you."

Okay.  For those of you brave enough to push on:  I'll bring you up to speed without getting too wordy (and then later we'll get into the good stuff- the real, oh-my-God-Carol's-day-to-day-life-really-is-a-living-hell.)  Basically I got here and was like, okay- now that we've moved in all of our stuff, ate good stuffed pizza (again: sup, Giordanos?), and drank a ton of Miller Lite and Jameson which then helped us christen the house with a rousing game of strip Apples to Apples (yeah, it can be done)  WHAT NOW?  Well, being the hungry-actress I am (HA), I self-submitted myself to a lot of film opportunities.  One of which was participating in the 48-hour film fest, which was a positive experience.  Met cool people and got a chance to act like myself in front of a camera.  Didn't win any awards, who cares?  And the other was what I thought would be fun- got to be an extra in a new Ron Howard film, The Dilemma.  Unfortunately, the experience WOULD have been a good one if I wasn't stuck listening to another one of the extras talk for 9 hours as we waited to film about how when he was on the set for Transformers 3 they had gourmet chefs and got to eat the same food as Shia.  GUESS WHAT? I DON'T CARE.  I think his name was Derek, once again though- who really cares?  Not this girl.

So after those situations played out, I was still like "Okay, get a real job now?"  Because unlike Derek, the successful manager at a Walmart, slash print model, slash extra actor, I possessed what half this country doesn't have- Ha ha, I forgot I had a degree.  So where did I go?  Thanks to a good friend, Susan (I secretly hate the shit out of you) Glynn, I went to an open house at a Temp Agency.  Although I may have taken like 2 hours on the computer literacy exams, I passed and was assigned a job that a monkey could do in just a few days!  What was this monkey-brained job you ask?  I literally sat on a street corner for 12 hours a day counting people crossing the street and entering coffee shops.  Yeah.  Imagine all of the stuff I could complain about THAT!  (My poor roommate Becky had to hear most of it)  I'll spare you all, but I will say this:  Complaining can ACTUALLY get you somewhere.  Seriously, after sleeping off my delirium from the first day, I whined to my supervisor (Who will hereafter be called Howie due to his striking resemblance to Howie Mandel) who then moved my position to a much shadier and less busy street corner.  Ha.  I win.  Anyway, I left that job with $393 dollars in my pocket.  Not the soggy one, the empty one.

Since then, I was fortunate enough to meet up with an old friend, Sasha, that has crucially hooked me up with a job in her office.  All I do is sit on a Mac all day (fancy schmancy right?) and manually log video interviews.  I'm sure I'll start complaining about that sooner or later.  My first day was Thursday and I was completely out of it.  I had to ask the guy sitting next to me where the ON button was on the computer.  Question:  because I am a young and hip 20 something, should I be more Mac literate?  I honestly felt like the hugest buffoon walking in there like "DUUUR, I'm from Virginia!  Help me!" 

Well, it's probably time to put my pants back on and head to class at iO.  The cool September breeze has swept back into the streets and thus No-Pants-Summer has officially ended.  Thanks to my roommate Nicoke for introducing the concept to me.  (I call her Nicoke only because I use T9 to type text messages and it won't let me spell NicoLe correctly)  Hope all of that wasn't too much to handle.  Trust me, these blogs will slowly gain momentum as crazier things keep happening to me that I feel like complaining about.  Not that they haven't yet- What about that time when Ryan and I saw what we thought was a homeless man building a lamp-bomb on the red line?  Or when I accidentally text messaged an old friend that I wanted to warm him during the winter?  Or when that women wiped her butt in front of us outside of the Jewel Osco?  Or Or Or Or...