Tuesday, October 11, 2011

In which I delete my facebook

Right now I'm unemployed, right? For the past month I have been (as my mom puts it) living on a shoe string.
There she is...my last possession in the world. She may not be much to look at, she may not provide much padding to sleep on, or substance to eat. But she makes a fabulous belt during the day! Jk I'm not really homeless...but maybe next month!
                      My shoestring 

SO....being jobless I've spent a lot of time on the internet...the cause of and solution to all of life's problems. Oh wait, thats beer.
For the most part I would argue that it is physically imposible for me to go online with out directly typing fac- (and then pressing enter cuz my internets knows what i wants). Its automatic. But as I spent more time on facebook I found more often than not I wasn't so much enjoying myself. In fact, it kinda started eating me alive. 


I don't talk about it a lot, but I may be a slightly jealous person.  Its not like a problem or anything, but it does require a lot of concealer. 
So anyway...I find myself looking at facebook, and comparing myself to all of my friends...even the ones I don't care about! How busy they look in their pictures. How close they are to people I wish I was still friends with. How shes totally gotten prettier since high school...damn it. How he's way hotter than his girlfriend.

But mostly how so freaking many of them are pairing off and getting engaged and married and having happy lives and I'm sitting on my butt in a coffee shop watching back episodes of Mad Men and kind of losing it about the proposed new episodes of Arrested Development. SO EXCITING RIGHT!?




Soooo...I deleted that soul sucking social network we all call the book of faces. I 
called it quits. Finito...done forever! Shut that book...right in its...face...YA!



Its been easier than I thought it would be...but i guess I'm on day one....I still find myself thinking in statuses, though...statusi? statusies?:
"omg didn't sleep till super late...waking up at 2...again...way to be a productive member of society!"
"at coffee shop...think the barista is a heroine user"
"I'm a horrible person for accusing people of using heroine...shes actually really nice...ignore last status"
"something about Kuma and cat because they are my only entertainment!"
"BEARS PARTY AT THE MILLER'S!"
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND FOOTBALL, BUT EVERYONE IS WEARING PINK!"
"having less points in football means you loose right? i can never keep it straight, but i think we lost"

Phew...I feel like I just opened a valve...so glad I could get all those out! tomorrow night I may record myself, though, to find out if I status update in my sleep when I can't get it out during the day. FUN NEW EXPERIMENT!

I need to get out more. 

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Important moments in history

Whenever we face a pivotal moment in history everyone asks the same question:

Where were you when it happened?

I'm not old, so I haven't met too many world changing events, but we all experienced one yesterday that I hope none of us are soon to forget: The rapture.

I think we are more than likely to be talking about that life changing, soul shaking event for years to come, and I will never forget exactly what I was doing when we were all raptured. I was running. I wasn't just running though! It was one of the most eventful runs of my life.

I've just begun running again, so I'm only going about 2 miles a day, which means to humble park and back. If you don't know the Chicago area very well I'll tell you about my neighborhood. I love where I live...but its not...the ritziest of neighborhoods. Most of it is old Ukranian people, and some hipsters here and there. However, as you move towards Humble park there is kind of a tougher crowed. A few blocks west of my house there may be a gang or two...nothing too serious...just a few little rascals scattered about....you know...anyway.

I really love running in humble park, so I'm not going to let their silly drug dealing stop me! (I realize now I'm setting this up to be way more exciting than it actually was...get unexcited).

So event 1: I always run past my bestie's coffee shop on my way to the park. This time she was working, but I was in the zone, so I didn't notice. She ran out of her shop and screamed after me. Rocking out to the fleet foxes can be pretty distracting, though so I didn't hear hear her yell my name at an ear splitting level.

However...the rest of the street did. Once she realized I wasn't going to turn around, but that the rest of the block had she very sheepishly apologized and walked, head down back into her shop.
baaaa
 After her embarrassing moment my run continued and I did my little stint around humble park, being heckled and hit on by homeless men, and raging with jealousy a few times while running past adorable little families. I also passed a Puerto Rican pow wow that I think I'm gonna ask to join next satutrday. I'd love to show off my new cajon skillz! (a cajon is a kick ass drum that you sit on and slap around)
whenever I play it i actually grow that awesome mustache!

When I left Humble park (a little sweatier, angrier and happier at the same time) I experienced a very exciting hit and run. Instantly my super hero skills kicked in and I memorized the plates make and model of the car...like a champ. From watching the whole "hit" part it kind of looked like the offending van was going to get away by driving THROUGH the poor little sedan it demolished. When that seemed like it wasn't going to work out the way he planned he drove diagonally through 4 lanes of traffic and then turned left through a red light....kind of looking like this:
Rather than carrying on the obnoxious business of remembering that license plate number I asked someone for their phone to call 911. After the call was made the very distraught sedan owners came out of the store, and my first adrenaline driven response was "DON'T WORRY I GOT THEIR LICENSE AND I'VE CALLED THE COPS!"

While this response would have been comforting and reassuring in my suburban safe haven of Wheaton, they don't so much like the coppers in the hood...so, instantly the atmosphere changed...I passed the phone back to its owner and decided my best bet was to just keep running...which I did. I also don't think I'll be running near humble park for a while now!

After this we get to a more serious part...sorry i'm gonna get all real on you.

For the past 2 weeks or so I decided enough was enough. I've spent a long time not giving myself enough.  not enough credit, not enough trust, not enough care, not enough love. 2 weeks ago I decided it was time to stop that. It was time to care about myself because I can't keep depending on others to do that. I drink and eat really gross healthy food (i miss the amount of chocolate I used to eat...but lets be real I couldn't give it up all together). This is kind of a big step because I'm starting to realize that I'm pretty freaking awesome, and I have never allowed myself to understand that.

So at the end of this run, the longest and fastest run I have had so far I was pretty exhausted, and incredibly gross looking (and smelling!). I was passed by an older black gentleman with more teeth missing that in place. He turned around on his bike to come talk to me. I didn't hear most of what he said (I was rockin to hard to Karmin...look em up...they be the shiznit) but I heard the last part...and it went something like this: "GUUUURL, I can tell you love yo self!"

I'm not sure if he meant this as a pick up, or just a little compliment, but he will never know how that changed my day...and this whole process I'm going through. "You know what," i thought to myself  "I do love myself!" I don't know if I've ever really been able to say that before. I'm learning more and more what this means, and how that has the ability to change the way I am in relationship with everyone around me, but I was really blessed by old toothless man, and I am so grateful for him. For the rest of my run I had chants of how awesome I am running through my head :).

So thats the story of how I wasn't apocasized on May 21. 6pm came and went and nothing really exciting happened, except that I got ready for a kick ass Ben Sollee concert that totally blew my mind. You should also look him up...hes kind of the bomb. So tell me, where were you during the may 21, 2011 apocalypse?

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

How you know you're really low on cash

So...My account may have suddenly found itself over drawn today. I really don't know how it manages to do this every semester. I start out with all my financial aid money that is supposed to last 5 months...and it usually last close to that...but at some point I find myself inevitably without any moolah. I really don't mind being on a budget...and I feel like I'm not bad at it, but its just ridiculous expenses that clear me out...anyway...seeing how you aren't my accountant you probably don't need to know this. (haha as if I will EVER have enough money to need an accountant!)

So today I decided what any reasonable person would do when they find themselves low on funds:

SELL BLOOD PLASMA!!!!
(see its pretty and purple as if to assure you that this is going to be a fabulous idea!)


So I thought I'd put together a handy dandy guide to selling your plasma. Its pretty much the steps I followed and it worked out perfectly:

1. Find only donation center in Chicago within a reasonable distance

View Larger Map
Welcome to shadesville my friends! (It doesn't look that bad in the picture...but trust me...it is)

2. Try your hardest to make an appointment with the VERY eastern European woman who answers the phone. Its really ok if you can't understand Helga...English isn't her first language.

3. Drive (what feels like 195849 hours) to appointment. Fill out questionnaire. Read all the pamphlets they've given you on how this can kill you and take a quiz on it to prove you actually read the material.

4. Begin to realize all of the reasons this may be the dumbest thing you've ever done. (hepetitis, passing out, you're really hungry...you probably can't make it the whole hour without having to pee...etc.) But eventually realize you're being a giant pansy and a little needle prick isn't going to hurt anyone.

5. Suddenly notice how everyone around you is...(to put it nicely)...a freak.
6. Think to yourself "I don't want to be this person. I don't want to sell parts of my body...no matter how much I don't need them. Is this prostitution?" you ask, as you make the horrifying realization that you are...in fact prostituting yourself by allowing them to take your blood...and pump it back into your body.

7. Start explaining to the Russian woman that you are more than likely a horrible candidate. Your conversation will probably go like this:
Helga: "how many peersings an tattoo yo hhave?"
Me: "Oh, um kind of a lot..gosh..i guess 6 piercings and 2 tattoos?"
Helga: "Oh ok...less dan 10 ees goud"
Me: "Um...Also I went to Haiti...like really recently...theres AIDS there...and Malaria"
Helga: "ees dat Afreeka?"
Me: *sad exasperated sigh* "no..."
Helga: "did yoo be seek?"
Me: "...no...but I also...um just got a tattoo...like recently"
Helga: "ees it healthy?"
Me:"...ya...i guess"
Helga:"dats fine...but it looks like yoo veins are deep...we can steek you but eef eet not vork we only geev yoo $5."
Me: "so this probably won't work?"
Helga: "maybe...maybe not...but we try"
Me: "Um...I don't know if i...um want to...for $5...um...I don't...um..."
Helga: "are yoo scared? Don vorry...eet ees fine"
Thats Helga...except with out the cowboy outfit and with scrubs and a paper lab coat (ya...they spare no expense with their lab coats there!)

8. From here you will be ushered out into the waiting room with what you can only assume is a room full of drug addicts. And all of them are very creepy men. One may be looking at the tv screen (that is turned off) and yelling profanities....While here feel free to contemplate your life and how you may have gotten to this point. You should also probably decide to get help with budgeting.

9. Decide that this was a horrible idea and that you really don't want hepatitis. Now...you could go tell the people that you changed your mind. OR you could slowly put on your coat as if you are cold and then bolt from the room and don't stop running until you are in your car.

10. Now this last part isn't necessary, but if you want to replicate my experience you would need to get really flustered and turn the wrong way which makes you drive through the worst part of town that you promised yourself you would never drive through again...but again...thats totally unnecessary.

Now that you have a step by step guide, I can't wait to hear about your experiences with the life giving i mean drug...creating...process that is plasma donation!

Monday, February 21, 2011

zee french man from ze upstairs of ze hood

So, I'm officially in Chicago. I've been here for a couple weeks which is why I haven't blogged so much. Being an extreme extravert I need some sort of outlet to get all my funny out (or else I explode and its messy...the last time was in '97. Made mom real angry. She was cleaning notallison chunks off the walls for weeks. Teach her to ground me to my room!) Now that I have 3 roomates (thats right, 4 of us) in an ADORABLE 1 bedroom...I pretty much have a constant influx of people to spurt my rambelings too.

But, I think they have heard enough of ze frenchman (pronounced franchmah) since they know his special brand of crazy (the wonderful brand, like Kleenex brand tissues). So I thought I would chronicle our friendship here.

So I live kind of in between the hood and eastern Europe in Chicago. Its great, and most of our neighbors are adorable old eastern European couples and the other half are gangstas. Don't worry I still have my large dog...who wants to befriend all of the gangstas and has made a serious effort to lick them to death...Thanks dog. But anyway, most of my neighbors are pretty cool, and one of my first days here I met ze franchmah.

He is CLEARLY a chatter. I can't really see him without being sucked into a half hour conversation, which would be so great in the summer. But in the sub zero snowpocolypse of Chicago...its less pleasant, and I get tired of not being able to feel my extremities. But really, hes great. He offers to do things all the time and name drops as much as he can, but the best part is he TOTALLY makes good on his offers! When he offers to make us food (did i mention hes a chef? thats right! FRENCH. CHEF.) he comes down that evening with a multiple course meal for all of us. We invite him to a party, he INSISTS on paying for and cooking all of the food. and the wine. "Well I don't know if zix bottles of wine are enough...maybe I bring zeven". He offers to get me a ticket to France through his company...I leave April 8th. All in all this guy is CRAZY. crazy, awesome.

We had our house warming party last night and everyone finally got to meet him. I feel like everyone left askind "where the crap did you find this guy?"

So I thought I would just post some of my favorite franchmah quotes here so you can enjoy him almost as much as me (but no french food for you, bitch. Thats all mine!)

" I teach ze karate to ze kidz in ze hood. You know...We just want to teach zem ze rezpect. ze zelfcontrol. Zometimes we are not zo zuccessful. zometimes zey get into ze gangz and ze maryjawanna, but moztly we just zay thingz like "lizen to you mammi and you papi, rezpect others, only fight if you have to, don't zell ze maryjwanna" zoze kidz are zo beautiful. Zo smart. Zey are zo little wit zeir little pigtailz.
I am zee blackbelt. If you don't believe me I'll show you" (at this point he runs out of the apartment up to his apartment to get his karate stuff and comes back to show us all of his uniform...no really sir, we would have believed you). "Zee! I am ze blackbelt!"

Here is a picture of ze franchmah. Only ze franchmah is less asian and not named mr. miagi and i doubt he probably has people wax his car. But imagine that man only less squinty and thats totally him. I have asian friends...i can say squinty. Don't judge me.



The other day he came over to drop something off and he ended up staying...for several hours. Thats ok, his alien conspiracy theories are pretty entertaining, but my favorite quote of all was this:

"My mama is 88 and papa is 106. My mama had zixteen children. YA! 16! you know, in zoze dayz we do not have television. My papa have nozing to do but come home and mate with my mother"

What do you say to that? I don't even know...but I laughed pretty hard. That------------------------------------->
is a picture of what I imagine his family to look like...although they sound less mormon. Oh! also they lived in a castle...TAKE THAT DUGGERS! they didn't even have to build thier own home with 27 washers and a cannery in case of zombie apocolypse...be honest, we know thats why you did it!




My favorite delivery of things was a few days ago. I'm not really sure what makes him bring the things he does...but its always pretty entertaining. He brough us a dozen roses (we're all single and lonely on valentines day and he felt we needed flowers...aw how cute), orange juice, a bottle of wine, six packs of strawberry gum and a bag of size 10 men's socks.
"ze zocks, zey are for you. zey are franch...very good quality. i zought maybe you want zem. alzo...I brought ze ztrawberry gum...becauze itz what all ze kidz are chewing zeze dayz."
haha thanks, franchmah...you're so up on todays kids :)