health update

Now my tongue is white and my stomach is refusing to digest food. Awesome. I better be able to go to the Cubs game tomorrow.

hypochondria

Can't sleep. Probably slept too much during the day. So I'm checking around websites to figure out if I have a cold, the flu, allergies, or what.

So far I have: Pharyngitis, Mononucleosis, and/or allergic Rhinitis. Actually, the mono symptoms are pretty much dead-on, but I have absolutely no idea where I would have gotten mono and I'm more likely having severe hypochondria. Maybe this whole thing is in my head. Then perhaps I can will myself healthy. That would be nice, since I'm restless.
Will will will will will...

In the news

Too funny: Anchorwoman's chat accidentally broadcast live during Bush's Katrina speech
At least she was saying good things about her husband...

Not at all funny: Arabic T-shirt sparks airport row
I think there should be shirts with really patriotic pro-US statements but entirely in Arabic with no translation. Like "God Bless America" or "Democracy and freedom for all"* or "Stars and Stripes Forever." Or even funnier would be "Jesus loves me" or "Happy Rosh Ha Shannah" in Arabic. Middle-eastern-looking people should wear them to airports and see what happens. People who read this who know Arabic (you know who you are...there are at least two of you): I'm waiting for your translations.

Note: Thank you HDS for pointing out my mis-linked link. It's fixed now. Yeah, that other story wasn't so funny...I need an editor.

*not necessarily patriotic pro-US, but you get the idea

I'm allergic to your FACE

Maybe I have allergies. Either that or West Nile Birdthrax.* Is it possible to not have environmental allergies your entire life and then for them to suddenly show up? Because my nose is just so itchy without being really clogged and my throat has this constant dull ache thing going. I almost threw up, too, but was able to stop myself (years of dyspeptic experience). I guess the pukey thing is more likely to be not allergies. The only allergy medicine I have in my apartment is the dog's. He's getting good at eating whatever I hide the pills in without eating the pills. He's a clever little beast. Got an entire piece of raisin bread and a small wad of butter before the whole pill made it down. And this is a tiny little pill. Maybe his allergies were contagious. That'd be fucked up.

Conversation I had today:

NBF: What are you doing Friday around 1:30?
Me: I don't know, nothing. Why?
NBF: Then you are going to a CUBS GAME.
Me: Ooh! Yay! Sounds good. I mean, if you're going to twist my arm about it...
NBF: Good, because I already got us tickets.

Can you believe I've lived less than a mile from Wrigley for over a year but haven't gone to a game since my triumphant Chicagoland return? I am excited.

If I'm still feeling crappy tomorrow, I'm escaping. I don't care. Even if I just apply at another Target, I need to get out of this place.

*New disease I just made up that results from when a West Nile mosquito bites an avian flu bird that was exposed to anthrax. Obvi.

$?

I'm sick, but weird sick. My throat's been bugging me since Saturday, I'm chilled and achy and ever so slightly sniffly, and now I'm nauseous. Better than being very sick, but still hard to negotiate if I should take it easy and take care of myself or ignore it and try to go about my business. Stupid germs.

After a week without a single promo invitation, I got 9. It's actually only two promotions, but it covers 9 days. One calls for models (and will be chosen by headshot...I'm hoping they're either looking for someone to fill the petite stuff or want more "real" looking people, but we'll see...) to wear clothes provided by the retailer with oversized price tags illustrating how much people can save. It pays $25/hour for 26 hours over three days. That would be amazing. I'm not too hopeful, but the dollar signs are spinning in my eyes. The other is for "fashion police" to hand out "fashion citations" and draw people into the store. I already emailed the person in charge of that one to say "how much fun t sounds." Let's hope that helps, since it does sound fun and pays $17/hour for 30 hours over 6 days. Again with the ca-ching ca-ching.

nightmares

Terrible dreams last night. Terrorism bombings and trying to find safe places and keep my family and a few friends all together, plus "the President" (not Bush) and all the cabinet members and such were exposed to some horrible contageous virus, so this random senator who was initially in charge of dealing with the day-to-day issues and aftermath of the bomb had to take over as president because he was the highest ranked and best person not exposed to the virus.

No more thinking about disasters and watching 24 right before bed.

Friends and things

Last night I hung out with NBF. He is fabulous. He may stay. I like his dog, too. She plays fetch and tug-o-war and runs around off her leash without attacking other dogs and people. I love my dog very much, but it would be nice if he could do some of those normal dog things. Friendly things.

My improv class today was fantastic. We were missing a bunch of people (including the girl who annoys me most) so it was more intimate. Lots of really good, obviously productive games and activities. Then BB and the weird psycho kid who tends to only ever play angry and "fucking hates emos" (I will henceforth refer to said kid as "Anti") had to do a scene together. It absolutely crashed and burned. They're both incapable of relating to the other person in any scene, so the two of them together was like watching a train wreck. BB got really frustrated and upset because he couldn't find a way of connecting with Anti, let alone play the different emotions he was supposed to explore in the exercise. The teacher could have been more helpful and supportive, but it was probably good for them to have to face eachother and see what it's like when the other person isn't compensating for your shortcomings.

SUC was much more quiet and pensive than usual. Turns out his mind was on the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. He's from New Orleans. His family is still down there. He was lucky, only losing two friends, but his stories about carrying a gun while he tried to help clean up for the six weeks following the storm are haunting just to hear. This got Mr. Aluminum talking about 9/11. He used to work in the World Trade Center but quit his job about a year before the attack. He was unemployed and without health insurance when he tore his Achilles tendon playing basketball but couldn't afford to see a doctor for lack of coverage. His former boss (in London on business at the time) was the only person not killed when the towers collapsed. He described spending the fall of 2001 "limping from funeral to funeral."

Very intense stuff. Then my phone sex thing came up. Most of them didn't know about it. They were fascinated. I felt a little silly after their stories of tragedy and horror, but it certainly perked SUC up and lightened the mood, so perhaps it was necessary for it to come up today.

Tonight I hung out with my friend since forever (I don't remember if he has a code name yet or not...). We didn't really do much but good company requires little activity. He's going to be around for at least a few more months, so I have yet another friend to play with. Yay friends.

I'd better not be getting sick. I'm sucking down the Cold-Eeze and drinking fluids, but my throat hurts and my nose is tickly and I hear the germs trying to beat down my immune system. Fight back, body! You can do it!

Highlights from my poetry journal I kept when I was 10

Note: All original spelling with corrections to red words below in blue for clarification

Mr Mocho east garspocho
Miss Wimp eats shrimp
Prinses Di eats rey
But Mr Bost wont eat his toast!

Macho, eats, garspacho, Princess, rye, Boast, won't

day by day
month by month
year by year
I live my life
year by year
month by month
day by day

Wear
quere
I bite my nails
she picks her nose
He raps to much
she sings opra
He talks back
she files and lies
He brags and
boasts
Were od

We're queer, We're odd

Birthday, birthday, birthday cake
Ice cream, ice cream, belly ache

Tests are anoying,
Tests stink
If tests keep going
I won't
EVER sleep a wink.
After we have 2 tests in a row
my haterid for tests
begins to show
Tests are stupid
Tests are a bore,
If tests go away
people might live more

Girls are wonderful,
Boys I hate,
Men are nice
and babys are great
brothers are medeocher
Sisters are o.k.
and mothers you could discribe in any way
and shown by any test
I'm the best

mediocre

Sunburn on my sholder
a small bump on my nose
and moles and freckles
from my head to my toes
rists like twigs
feet that turn in
I'm a lopsided girl,
skiny as a pin.

Howcome I can find the bad side
but I can't find the good?
Howcome I do the wright thing
and it doesn't seem like I should?
Howcome I do something
and it doesn't work out?
Howcome when I'm sitting still
my mind is all about?
Howcome my mind is in a whirl?
It's because I'm no avrage girl.

I turned and saw
a little man with an open jaw.
"I am very sorry to stare,
It's just your trousers are over your
underwear.
I come from a family that does things odd."
and his underwear are over his trousers
and a shirt that says TODD

a secret place to keep my thaughts
so my mind isen't lost
My Diary

Fly
to sore and
And start
High altatude
at a very
until your
to go up,
And you start
The moater starts

When the sun is down
and your down,
When the silence is scared
and your scared,
When it is dark
and you feel dark,
Smile

It's a long road home,
But I've got to take it
My friends are on
a distant street
as I travel on.
This is the way
to feeling strong
the way to feeling good, and the place
to do my deed.
I've been on this road.

captiv(at)e(d)

I'm spending too much time at my parents' house. Monday night was dinner with my cousin whose wife is currently in New Hampshire with his parents and siblings (he has to work until later this week when he can join them). Then I'd promised to spend more quality time cleaning out my old room, so I was back on Tuesday. My Tuesday night plans got a migraine (poor E...I am well aware of how much that sucks), and with my brother's first day of school Wednesday and my dad still out of town (he drove my sister back to school and then stayed in LA for work crap) I figured I'd be a good daughter and spend the night. Then Wednesday I ended up spending many more hours trying to clean out my room. There's just so much shit, what with 12 years of living there and accumulating junk, plus another 6 years of it being mainly storage for my sister and me. Some time mid-afternoon I took a break and passed out and woke up with a surprise headache. Coffee and naproxen and a few hours of TV made it tolerable, so I went back to cleaning shit out until my brother got home from soccer practice (my mom was out to dinner and wanted me to do dinner with him if I could...so I waited). I didn't end up leaving until 9 PM, which was bad because I was supposed to meat one of my improv classmates and his girlfriend at 10 for the improv show.

The show itself was fabulous. Really, really, really incredible. It's just these two guys but they create a bunch of different characters and trade off playing them incredibly well. The whole thing is brilliant and hilarious and they are just completely and totally fabulous.

I found lots of my old writings stashed around my old room, including my first journals from when I was 6-years-old. Too cute. Did make me wonder how I ever thought I was anything but a writer.

My stupid computer's stupid powercord won't stay in, so it keeps dying. Not good. I have many things to do on here today.

No, officer, it was only a few drinks

Random craving of the moment: cinnamon raisin bagel or toast.
Random song in my head of the moment: Yellow Submarine
Random thought of the moment: boys are like stupid computer games, taking up way more time and mental energy than you know they should, but they're too addictive and enjoyable to completely rid from your system.

I love my mother but she stresses me out. And requires even more energy than boys. And since when do I have a full social calendar? It's pretty crazy. It was like one minute I was staring at my dog and/or the television every night for lack of anything better to do, and the next I had to remember how to say "no" to social events when money and general looking for a job shit should be more important.

Why is my sense of smell all super hyped up? Am I getting a migraine? Because it's the wrong time of the month for my regular super-smell. Either that or my apartment really stinks.

Why am I still writing and not just in bed? I will answer and fix that one RIGHT NOW.

what a waste

Annoyed with myself. I just watched two hours of unbelievably bad (and not in the good fun way) television. Cold Case and Without a Trace. Bad bad bad. I want those two hours back. I could have read a book or something. I could have played Word Racer the entire time and it would have been better. Blech. I feel dirty. Get me out of this apartment. That's it, the dog and I are going for ice cream.

Impecial

Yesterday my improv class was excellent. We did a lot of "good work," concentrating on "heightening" our stories/scenes and "giving." One classmate reaffirmed himself as deadweight in everything he's a part of and another still annoys the hell out of me, but we all seemed to be listening better and that was very nice. I'm still quite self-critical, especially since I can look at everything I do three minutes later and come up with half a dozen ways I could have done it better, but I suppose in time I'll be able to come up with the half a dozen improvements before the scene ends and be a half a dozen times better. Example: annoying girl was playing the same hyperactive scared upset character she always plays. During the scene, I kept trying to calm her down (mostly because I was trying to get her to change her emotion and actually have some sort of realistic character...silly me), but it would have been much better had I decided to fuck with her and calmly give her more reasons to be scared. Hindsight, my friends, hindsight. Need to see it faster.
I also think the class may have been so good because of the absence of one of our members. Which is too bad, because he's actually quite good and funny and I like him a lot*, but he's fairly loud and changes the tenor of the class. Hmm...

Today, I WORKED! For MONEY! I handed out about 1500 free samples to people at the air and water show near the beach. It was remarkably easy and reasonably fun. The other people who do the promo work seem to mostly be the unintelligent/no marketable skills end of the frat boy and sorority girl types, but whatever. Many of them were perfectly nice, I don't need to make best friends, and I can be smiley and friendly to anyone (if I have to be) for a short amount of time with extremely limited conversation/interaction. Besides, the weather was beautiful and we finished in about two hours, even though we were scheduled to work for four. I just need more of these gigs until I get a real job or start school again.

I wrote a pitch for my phone sex article and sent it to three men's magazines last night. It would be very nice if something came** of that, even if just to justify my "research." Sure, fame and fortune would be good, too, but it's hard to prove my motivations without a tangible product. I also have to figure out how to juggle all of my names and alter-egos and such, now that I have my phone sex name, my pen name, and my legal name all floating around. Why am I so good at overcomplicating things for myself? Oh, right, because it makes me feel important and special. Impecial.

*no, not like him like him.
**hehehe

Canceled, sorted, met, and loved

Tonight I tried to go to my friend's recital, but when I got there (it took me a solid 50 minutes to drive it, catching the end of rush "hour") I was informed the recital had been canceled because he'd had emergency surgery a few days ago.

?!?!?

Hopefully he's ok. He's supposed to be heading off to grad school in the next week or so.

Fortunately my parents were home and my mom was cooking dinner, so the drive turned out not to be a waste after all. Unfortunately, the drive home SUCKED. It was pouring rain and foggy and the inside of my car wouldn't stop fogging up even with the defogger on full blast and the windows as far down as I could stand with the rain gushing in. Very scary, sloshing around on a Friday night, unable to see, with cabs and drunk yuppies on foot darting in and out of traffic.

I spent much of the rest of my day sorting through all the papers in my life. My apartment doesn't look much better, but I certainly feel more organized. I have three large and one small accordion files now, and really all but one of them can be stuffed downstairs in my storage space and ignored until I have to move or reference a phone bill from two years ago. My desk is neater but you can't really tell because there's still other random crap on it and most of my papers were just in random stacks shoved into corners. But I'm trying here, people. I'd like it if my psycho dog was my only embarrassment when I invite people over. I may not have a great hang-out apartment, but I'm fighting my hermit tendencies and making this place presentable is a good first step.

Yesterday I finally met my New Best Friend in person. We went to Jazzin' at the Shedd and Giordanos. The Shedd thing was pretty fabulous. Vastly less crowded than during the day, plus all the lights are dimmed, cocktail tables are set up everywhere with strategically placed bars inside and out, and a jazz trio inside and a larger jazz combo out on the vestibule thing. Very swanky, lots of people on dates, but with fish and lizards and such. The beluga exhibit is still closed off because apparently the baby beluga (sing it, Raffi) is still surviving but not yet ready to be introduced to bazillions of visitors. But even more exciting than jazz, aquarium, and Chicago stuffed pizza: my New Best Friend is actually fun to hang out with! Yay. I trust Birdie's taste in people, but she's much more tolerant than I am. But NBF passes my Acceptable Human Being standards (which are much higher than they sound, as many of you already know).

When the hell did I get all these friends and social engagements and such? It's a little crazy. Good, but crazy. And expensive. That part's not so good. Even if I go do cheap things, I'm not bringing in any money and a few drinks or a ticket to this or that show or a bite to eat really adds up. I'm almost tempted to do the phone sex thing again just to make money, though that's a line I'm terrified to cross. It's one thing to do it "for the sake of my art." It's quite another to do it for the money. That's doing it for real. That's way creepier. Hopefully I'll start getting more of these "promotions" gigs. $17 an hour to hand out samples. I like that.

Let me know if you want to see my oh so exciting pictures from the other day. I can't really post them on here and maintain my guise of anonymity.

Ok, weird, I just got this email:

I'm at Dell headquarters in Austin, TX and I came across your blog posting in which you mentioned that you needed the power supply and motherboard in your system to be replaced. I wanted to check and make sure that the parts have been swapped out and the system is up and running. If there is still an issue please contact me and I'll do whatever I can to help. If you have any questions or suggestions for us do leave the subject line in place when replying so it will be routed to me.

I feel strangely powerful. I know I've been getting a lot more hits than can be justified by my friends (even HDS, E and me accounting for more than our share) but I am once again taken by surprise at the random strangers reading and responding to random things.

Sweeeeet...

I love when real news sounds like an Onion article:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/5264566.stm?ls

45 Bulgarian dromedaries

I drank more than I intended to tonight. Not that I'm "drunk" by any stretch of the imagination, but I am fuzzy enough to think that maybe I should order pizza. Pizza sounds really good. But I'm full. Such a difficult decision. The decision is mostly being made by my lack of money.

Today I:

• randomly woke up at 6 AM and didn't go back to bed
• had a girly day with my mom and sister at Marshal Fields and spent too much of my parents' money on makeup and tea at the Walnut Room (all of which was necessary before Marshal Fields becomes Macys. Stupid Macys.)
• got officially hired/invited to a "promotional event" on Sunday that pays $17 an hour! Yay for $17 an hour and WORK and all of that.
• Went to the IO show with people from my improv class
• drank more than I intended, as I did not intend to drink
• wanted pizza very badly but knew it was a bad idea to order it and found the strength to go to bed with my belly full of beer but empty of pizza.

It is so bedtime.

I'll be the judge of that...

Fill out my survey about your judgmentality*. Please. It's really short. Like me.

I am pleased with my haircut. I even got bangs (nothing drastic...a bit of long and swoopy) for the first time since I was 4. I had to wait 2 1/2 hours and then the haircut itself was another hour, but Mario Tricoci himself was there. Apparently his office is at that Tricoci University location. He didn't do anything to my hair, but he was watching the girl who was cutting me and you could tell she was trying to show off a bit. Not bad for $9 ($12 minus my 25% off coupon).
There will be pictures as soon as Him is done "processing" them. We spent the afternoon/evening taking pictures. I dolled myself up and stood in front of his wall while he arranged and rearranged the lights and stood on things and said, "laugh, dammit!" many, many times. My on-purpose smile looks stupid. The only way to get a decent picture of me is for me to laugh. Laughing on cue is difficult. When someone is telling you to laugh, it is even more difficult. Now add bright lights and a camera in your face. I guess some people thrive under these conditions, but I am no such thriver. "Modeling is hard work."
After we gave up on the headshots, we wandered around his neighborhood looking for "textures" for me to stand in front of for my full body shot. This is the crap I know nothing about. We also argued over whether or not me crossing my arms looked too unfriendly. The job website thing emphasized that they didn't care if your pics were professional, they were mostly looking to see your "friendly, open, outgoing personality." To me, this means no crossing my arms in front of myself because that's like body language 101. Him thought it just made me look "confident." I look forward to other opinions once he's done with the photos.

*Judgmentality is now a word.

Picture day

Today I am getting my hair cut, dolling myself up, and having Him take pictures of me for this jobs website. They do product promotion stuff so they want pictures. Right now my best pictures are four years old and suck. My improv class friend who's a model is being helpful, too; she offered to go through and tell me which shots to use. I hated my last haircut, so I'm glad to be getting it re-chopped, anyway, but I do hope this helps me get work. Mmmm...work...

some people

I fixed my parents' computers and home network thing finally. Took another two hours on the phone and lots of frustration. This is why I refuse to work with computers professionally. While I was doing that, there was a meeting on their neighbor's lawn to plan an upcoming block party; it looked like a diversity add. I grew up on an amazing block. Starting from the corner on our side of the street it was Indian (non-Hindu or Muslim but I don't remember what they are), Jew, Catholic, Indian Hindu, three white Christian of some form houses in a row, African (as in the parents were from Africa...Malawi, I think...but the kids were all born here), and black. Other side of the street had a few more Jews (including one interfaith-marriage with an adopted kid), one strict Catholic family, a cranky really old white lady who never left her house, maybe two other white families, and two more black families. No Hispanics and the only far-east Asian was an adopted Chinese girl, but not bad for a single suburban block.

And while we're on the subject, the daughter in the Indian Hindu family has been one of my sister's best friends since they were little and we've been family friends (or at least family friendly) for at least 15 years, but we'd never done a read dinner with just the two families. Until last night. The cousin (who's three years older than me and lived with them since he was 14 until just a few years ago) and his wife came, too, which was nice because I really like them and it meant I had peers. We went to a tapas restaurant (I think it was my sister and/or her friend's idea) because the parents and the cousin-in-law are vegetarians. Everything was delicious and I went home so stuffed I was still too full to eat anything this morning before my class.

Which brings us to my improv class. I wish I could get better faster. I'm very critical (I know, big shocker) of everyone but even more critical of myself. Like the scenes I was in that crashed and burned. We were supposed to be working on focus and making it obvious where it should be and taking and giving it and stuff. The first exercise that bombed was largely because I thought the focus was supposed to be on the person instead of the situation so I was trying really hard to do the wrong things and just wound up confusing myself and everybody. But the other big problem in both of them was another member of my class. She was really annoying me, particularly in the scene where she just wouldn't give up the focus and was just being loud and dumb and making noise without anything behind it. I came up with ways I could have helped her out or maybe forced certain controls over the scene, but not until after the whole thing was over. There really are just a few people who are like black holes, sucking the life out of whatever scene they are in. Sometimes the people in the class who are really good can compensate for them and I want to be able to do that, too, and to be a "really good person," but I think I'm firmly in the averages. I mean, I tend to do well in games that require coming up with words and stories or anything where you have to mirror and mimic someone else's actions, but I feel hyper-cerebral and tragically unfunny much of the time.

After class we went to a food and drink establishment with amazing salads. I'm not a salad person, but this thing was truly awesome. Avocado, artichoke hearts, fresh mozzarella, hearts of palm, cucumber, tomato, and romaine (which there was less of than probably any other ingredient) tossed with a yummy dressing. I ate half and was stuffed, leaving the other half for leftovers. It was wonderful.
BB requested $3 back from what he put into the bill. We all tend to be very casual about a few bucks here and there and frequently share dishes and buy eachother drinks. And BB stood there and waited while we went searching for the last dollar change.

I was going to meet up with people later on tonight but instead I crashed and watched tv and snuggled the dog and filled out another employment thingy online. I think it was the right choice, especially since the festivities were going to happen out in the suburbs so I would have had to have driven all the way out and then not partake in the potables.

For being unemployed, I am way too busy.

Possibility

Found a possible blogging job on Craigslist. One that actually pays and doesn't sound sketchy. How perfect would that be? No health insurance, but it would writing and something I enjoy and I could theoretically continue it and go back to school. I gave them this blog address (with a disclaimer, of course) to show my blogginess. I'm not sure if that was a great idea, as this thing is rather personal and yet simultaneously asinine, but I might as well advertise myself honestly. Maybe I should photoshop a few random images on here just to show off...

Now, I go waste many hours of my life trying to finish making my parents' computers happy. But I did all the phone calls and things that I much prefer to do from home and I'll bring my computer and maybe (yeah friggin' right) get some stuff done while I'm there. We're going out to dinner tonight with neighbor family friend people so I have to drive out there, anyway. It's a compromise. Now what are the odds my parents don't still assume I'm a selfish ungrateful child? That's ok, I'm finally starting to accept that them thinking I'm selfish doesn't mean I'm actually selfish. Stupid parents.

Impressionist portrait of today's happenings

Today I made a major emotional step in becoming an adult and almost killed my parents in the process. At least my dad now understands, leaving me with the advice to not listen to his advice except for the things he told me earlier. I pointed out the illogic and, after a moment of consideration, he smiled and said "exactly."

busy busy

Looooooong days. Three in a row.

Saturday morning I had to drop off my rent check at the leasing agent's office downtown before my improv class. No big deal, except the bus that was supposed to run every 7-10 minutes and take me from the office to class didn't show up for 40 minutes and then had to detour around many blocks of street fair. It should have taken at most 20 minutes from the time I showed up to the bus stop until when I'd arrive at class. I budgeted half an hour to be safe. It took almost an hour.

I was pretty off and out of it all class, but we did play this one game that involved jumping from one scene to another. The class split in half and coincidentally all the crappy people* ended up in one group. They crashed and burned and our new teacher actually called them on it and made suggestions as to why they had so much trouble. I like it when a teacher teaches proactively. Then the group I was in had our turn and we basically kicked ass. It was much fun. After class we went for food as usual, but since it was hot and everybody was tired we agreed to meet up later that night for karaoke.

Back at the ranch** I took a nap until my sister showed up. A few days ago, my sister met some guy who knew one of her friends back in elementary school and he got her number. Friday, he called her and asked her on a date. She'd never been on a real date, so she proceeded to freak out for the 36 hours before they were scheduled to meet up. He lives not far from my apartment so I suggested she come over first and leave her car and crash at my place overnight so she wouldn't have to worry about the how and the when of returning to our parents' house. Ever since my dog nipped her elbow when she was in "his spot" she's made me lock him up if she's around. I hate it, but sister is supposed to trump dog, and it's not like she fits in his crate.

She got to my place early so we went to this coffee/ice cream shop I like by me and then sat outside and got eaten by mosquitoes while we waited for the boy to arrive. She wouldn't let me meet him or even see him. Dork. Once she was gone I got myself ready to go out and headed to the karaoke bar.

Karaoke with improv people: so much fun! I was too sober when I went up and did Like a Prayer, but The Model absolutely rocked Led Zepplin (which was really funny since she's shaped like a waif) and drinks and fun were both had in large quantities. Drink I asked for because the combination was good and now I think if no one else has I should patent it and make a bazillion dollars: Stoli blueberry in cranberry juice. It was delicious. The bar itself was this funny dive bar in an otherwise very upscale and touristy neighborhood. Most of the other karaoke-ists were borderline painful to listen to. Made me miss being surrounded by musicians, but then again, it's often funnier when the people can't sing.

I wandered home around two. My sister was already asleep in my bed, but I was craving the shitty pizza they sell at this all-night place around the corner from me. I poked the sister to ask her if she wanted any and she said yes, so I took the dog and went. The line was crazy and long and consisted entirely of drunk and stoned white kids ages 16-29(ish). They were really obnoxious and some tried to bargain for more pizza than their $5 would buy and, even in my own besotted state, I wanted to apologize on behalf of the White Young Adults of America. Luckily I was sober enough to keep my mouth shut. I woke my sister up again with her pizza and she scarffed the whole thing down still in my bed, only half-conscious, before handing me the empty box and telling me to shut up so she could sleep. I was still wired but I fell asleep anyway.
Sunday was my mother's birthday, so my sister drove the dog and myself out to my parents' house where I was supposed to fix their computer (again!) and go through my old room. The computer defeated me in the end (though it turns out the cable modem was shot and none of it was my fault) and ended up playing Taboo with the family until it was time to do presents and head out to dinner. My mom loved the Kate Spade bag very much and the siblings and I made her cards from a kit we got at the Paper Source. My card ended up extremely cute and my brother and sister were all annoyed that mine looked by far the best, but my message was the most boring so it all evened out in the end.

Dinner was excellent. We went to this restaurant downtown (bucktown/wicker park, actually) that specialized in "country kitchen food" done really well. My meatloaf thing was fantastic, as were the sides of mac & cheese and my brother's shmancy grilled cheese. My mom got fried chicken and waffles. We were all too stuffed for dessert.

I'd originally planned to go home after dinner, but since the computer still wasn't fixed and I'd barely touched my room, they held me captive for the night. I barely slept. The bed is terrible and somebody is up at all hours (my brother and sister late, my mom and dad early) and the dog and I aren't used to sharing a twin so every time he flips over I wake up. I was very cranky all day Monday as I called the cable people and got the internet running and let the Dell guy in to replace one of the computer's power source (which continued not to work as the entire motherboard was apparently fried by the lightning) and cleaned out tons of crap from my old room. Nine bags went to the Salvation Army before dinner and next week they're picking up some of the old furniture. Dinner was delicious but I almost fell asleep on my plate and my mom and sister finally took me home around 9:30.

During dinner my brother called from his first night at his first real job: delivering pizzas for a local restaurant. He was extremely upset and frustrated because no one was telling him what to do or where to go or anything and he tried asking and they still didn't tell him. It was pretty funny (from the outside). Then on the drive back to my apartment he called to say "This job kicks ass!" Apparently he finally found out what to do and where to go and he gets to make his own schedule and he got almost $50 for the evening's 4 1/2 hours of work. I would totally deliver pizzas were I not small, blonde, female, and living in the city.

Today I mostly took it easy and slept and sorted through the random albums and boxes of photos I found in my room at my parents' house. They're all sorted and labeled now, but I need albums to actually put them in so I can determine what pictures are unnecessary and throw them out. I feel strange throwing out photos, but I'm trying to tell myself they are just the ones that would have been deleted anyway had I/we owned a digital camera.
Yeesh. Why am I still so effing tired?


*Yes, this is horribly bitchy and snobby of me, but there are some people in the class who suck at following directions and/or listening and/or thinking of things, and they all went in the first group.
**and by "ranch" I mean "my apartment"

after booze and kareoke, nothing beats pizza. nothing.

I'm awake. Still. 5:36 AM. And I'm not being productive or anything. Just awake. Need to clean my apartment in case my sister crashes here tomorrow night. Would rather play stupid Yahoo! games and poke myself in the face.

linky post

Just watched L.A. Confidential. Fabulous. I love Netflix. I'm feeling a bit torn, though, as Blockbuster is offering a free trial of their version of Netflix. Their database seems to have everything on my Netflix queue (random sampling of some of the more obscure ones) and the prices are the exact same except Blockbuster also offers one free in-store rental per week on top of their mail-order stuff. But I do prefer Netflix's site and I have the sense that Blockbuster is evil; is that worth a free weekly in-store rental? Such difficult decisions plague my life.

Starbucks won't be hiring for at least another week or two, but they still want me, but I need a job NOW. My mom found out about this temp agency that offers health insurance, but I have to send them a resume as an MS Word document, and I currently do not have MS Word because I am cheap and use Works Word. Very annoying.

My sister and I went shopping for my mother's birthday (which will be Sunday) today and got her an absolutely fabulous Kate Spade purse from Norstrom Rack. I also got five pairs of underwear: two $2 thongs and three of the super-cute Honeydew boy shorts. They sell lots of Honeydew stuff at a lingerie/sex shop by me and I always want it but they tend to be $10-$18 a pop and I refuse to spend more than $5 on a pair of undies. But there they were in all their glory at Nordstrom Rack for $3.97 each! I got green/papaya, teal/green, and mocha/lime.

Ok, while searching for a picture of the bag we got my mom, I ran into this, a Kate Spade handbag named after the town I grew up in. Weird. Note, Oak Park is west, not north of Chicago.

I'm on my post-migraine mania/high thing again/still. I like /slashes/ too much. My brain is thinking about boys and it's very distracting.

Blah.

Blah. I spent last night at my parents' largely because the migraine was being cranky, but the rain finally came and broke the pressure and I am human again. I had tickets to this improv show thing last night, too, but had to miss it because I just wasn't up to going. On the plus side, we rented A Fish Called Wanda, which was absolutely fantastic. One of the best, funniest comedies I've seen in my entire life. Kevin Kline is insane and amazing and the whole cast rocked my socks. Rent it.

The storm last night was quite impressive. The lightning was constant and seems to have hit the house, though the only thing that actually blew (the computer) was the one thing plugged into a surge protector. Not good. Especially after all the friggin' time I spent fixing that thing the other week. At least it means everybody backed up all there stuff.

NBF called today to say the fax I sent his potential future landlord was never received. I have the fax receipt, which I plan on faxing with everything again so that they have proof I didn't just flake out. As for NBF in general, I don't know if Birdie warned him or if he's just a high quality human being, but he's been extremely cautious and grateful with everything I've done and sees them all as me doing him big favors. I really appreciate that sort of thing. Like, I'm happy to do things for people, but considering how obligated I personally feel to do whatever I can, it's nice when the other person doesn't act like I'm obligated to do it.

I love my sister but I don't always like her. Funny how that works.

Thank you, HDS, for encouraging my blog art. I just feel like I'm so damn verbose that anyone reading this should get to look at pictures along the way and/or use them to decide what sections to actually bother reading.

Sufficiently better-ish.

Dangerous

Now that I have a Dremel, I could totally drill a hole in my head. Right now I want two holes, actually: one in my standard top left ouchy migraine place, and one just above my right eyebrow. I hate being useless like this. My mom is making steak tonight for dinner. She got it thinking I was coming over. Right now, I can't handle noise or even a shower. I think it will be more cereal for me.