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.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
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.
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.
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.
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.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, October 4, 2010
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)
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)
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