Archives for June 2013

Maybe You Guys Can Figure Out What This Meant

So I was garage sailing this weekend and walked up to a house with a guy in his late 30’s-early 40’s. I did a quick lap and noticed all baby things, and was about to check out (as obviously, I don’t need any of those things), when the guy said to me, “You look like a Baby GAP person.”

I’m sorry…What?

This comment has resonated with me for 2 days now. Because I can’t seem to figure out what the hell he meant by that. I was wearing all Victoria’s Secret PINK clothing and Skechers gym shoes. What about that screamed GAP? Even more so, what about me screamed “baby?”

Was it an insult or a compliment? I didn’t examine the clothing closely, so I don’t know if he had a vast selection of Baby GAP crap or not. My response was just, “nope, no babies.”

What do you think blog friends? Compliment or Insult? Or just plain weird?

 

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Brian Shares Saturday: 3 Minutes of Pure Unadulterated Joy

Yes. But not like that you dirty birds. Oh just watch the video.

Brian also sent me this adorable piece of puppy love. In case you missed it, I used to play board games with my dog too.

Scrabble Dog

I am also a Scrabble genius.

And he couldn’t stop laughing when he watched this:

Cat scared by lizard

Like seriously. Could not. Stop. Laughing. He watched it for about 15 minutes…the cat stalks the first lizard and doesn’t even see the second…and then BWAM. Fuckin’ lizard.

Happy Saturday  Blog Friends!

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This Shit Seriously Just…Happens to Me

Pepperidge Farm Goldfish

I love the fishes ‘cuz they’re so delicious. Gotta go fishin’

Pepperidge Farm Goldfish

When we drove by this on Saturday afternoon, the conversation went like this, “BlahblahblahunrelatedHOLYCRAPTHATSAWESOME WEHAVETOTURNAROUND” And Brian turned around. And yes, I do talk that fast.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Lions and Tigers and Beers Oh MY!

Yes. Yes I did say beers. Not bears. Beers.  Saturday night was my goodbye to beer party. OK, really it was Living Social’s Beerfest at the Zoo…but what a way to say goodbye to my gluten-y beer. Amiright?  (Yes, I’m giving up gluten for the next several months [and possibly forever] to find out if I have gluten sensitivity. This is a decision my doctor and I discussed together–kids don’t try this at home…but anyways…more on that later) So we paid a bunch of money to go to the free zoo after hours, drink beer, listen to tunes, and eat snacks (OK, other people paid a bunch of money…Chrissy was frugal and got 3 of her pals to sign up so that she got it for free #lovelivingsocial). Aside from the ridiculous overcrowding and the less-than-worth-it VIP tickets, it was a great time with beer, friends and food trucks.

Of course, 3 days later and I still feel like crap–so maybe this gluten-free thing isn’t such a bad idea…Aaaaanyways.

Unfortunately, sleeping animals don’t photograph well at night with Smart Phones, otherwise you would totally have the cutest most ridiculously adorable pictures on the planet right now. Especially chimpanzees. OMG I love them so much right now. Because they sleep all cute and human like.

So you’ll have to settle for ridiculous pictures of my people.

Beer and Tigers. Yes.

Beer in the cat house? Okay!

Feed the animals beer!

She was brilliant. I copied her idea the rest of the night…feeding beer to the fake statues.

Stupider like a fox

Yep. 30 minutes in and I got in trouble for climbing on the display. It was a platform. Platforms are made to be stood on. I thought. The guy was so flabbergasted like he just couldn’t understand that this entire event was one giant photo op.

drunk ride on the carousel

Hello drunk ride on the carousel! I don’t know if there’s a happier place to be…Oh other than Disney World.

 

 

 

monkeys and beer

The last animals that I fed for the night. Right outside the ape house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See. She's brilliant.

See. She’s brilliant.

Living Social Beer Fest

Living Social Beer Fest 7

Living Social Beer Fest 6

Living Social Beer Fest 2

How was YOUR weekend, blog friends?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

I Got Bullied by the Intern

OK, so my plan has always been to keep my workplace shenanegins off the blog. You know, separate church and state.

Except that I just can’t keep the humor of the best job I’ve ever had away from you guys. Because you’re missing out and only getting the scraps of my life. And that’s not fair to you. Especially to those of you who braved two rounds of unemployment with me over the last year and a half.

Because my co-workers say things like: “I can’t get to hotlegsusa.com. What kind of workplace is this? I just want to look up pantyhose!”

Without further ado, welcome to my workplace.

I work at a pretty huge company. In one of their boutique satellite offices in the city. I am a part of a small, but growing team and this summer we have the pleasure of hosting an adorable intern. It’s like in college when you hosted a scooter (wow, never wrote about that…give me time friends. A scooter is a high school senior that spends a weekend in the dorms and you “scoot” them around and get them to do fun things) only with less peer pressure. Well sort of.

Although I think it’s supposed to be the other way around. You see, this morning, I purchased a pair of these:

wheelie sneaks

Shoes. For grown ups. With wheels. (Source: 6PM)

And it’s ALL BECAUSE OF THE INTERN.

We were talking about shoes with lights and wheelie sneaks and I found these shoes on sale. And the intern was all, “Monday morning. You better be rolling in on those babies.” And I told her, “It’s going to hurt…” And she said, “I feel like this is going to be some high quality entertainment. Mostly because you’re probably going to fall…and I want to be there…to catch you, of course.”

And with that logic, I couldn’t say no. Because you guys love a good falling story, you sick little sadists, you.

Brian’s response (he doesn’t know I have already bought them yet…): “That just… seems like a bad idea for you…”

So…Blog Friends. I’m taking bets. What do you think will happen when I roll through the city on my new wheelie kicks?

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Wordless Wednesday: What Season is it Today in Chicago?

The Crazy Seasons in Chicago

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

OK, Try to Suffocate Me!

Last Friday was date night. It was rather fantastic. Brian and I ordered pizza from this little pizza joint in Chicago suburbia (Aurelio’s). Then we ate on a bench in the cute little downtown area of our hometown. Afterwards, we meandered into the classic theater to watch Gatsby (LOVED Gatsby). When I say classic theater, I mean one of those historic relic theaters that has curtains and an organ player…It’s where we saw The Wallflowers a few months back.

After the movie we made our way to the homefront, laughing, happy…overall just enjoying each others’ company. We plopped down into our delightful squish bed chat chat chatting away. We were snugglin’ (don’t hate on our adorableness, yo) and I felt like I was upside down, so I told Brian he needed a pillow. I put it half on his arm and half on his face, and propped my head on top. “You okay?” I asked him.

“I’m fine” he mumbled through the pillow.

So I moved the pillow over his whole head. “How ’bout now?”

“Still great!” (I think that’s what he said…it was a little hard to decipher because of the pillow.)

So I pushed down with my head. “How ’bout now?”

“Maybe not so good.” So I let go.

And then Brian went off on one of his Brian rants about how weird it is that in the movies people always suffocate others with pillows. Like that would really work. And he looked at me dead serious, “Seriously, it is impossible to kill someone with a pillow.”

So OF COURSE I looked at him, and said, “OK great. Try to suffocate me!”

He looked at me for a second and then apparently though, what the hell…because moments later I was on my back and Brian was ready to cover me with a pillow. “Wait!” he called out…”We need like a code. Tap twice on my leg if you really can’t breath.”

“You got it dude.”

And then he pillow suffocated me. And I was laughing so hard. “How you doing?”

“I’m fine. Try harder.” And I kept laughing. And then I started flailing my arms around yelling, “Heeeelp! Ahhh!” in between laughter.

So Brian’s all, “That wasn’t the code. Are you alright?” And I just kept on laughing hysterically through the pillow. “Can you breath?”

“Of course. It’s getting hot in here though.”

And then he removed the pillow. And we laughed for another 10 minutes. Reading this through, it doesn’t sound as funny so much as a sexual adventure gone wrong…but it really was just good clean fun, you dirty birds.

 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

I Squish Skyscrapers With My Fingers

I’ve been participating in DeBie Hive’s 30 Day Photo Challenge. And at the end of the challenge, I’ll upload all of the images so that you can see 30 days in the life of a Chrissy. But for now, I’ll just keep you up to date with the most interesting photo shoots. Last week, one of the topics was hands. I had planned to go home after work and take a picture with all of the heirloom jewelry from the strong women in my family…

But then Brian missed the train and our plans homeward were delayed. So I was sitting outside the train station, enjoying the gorgeous Chicago weather (for once), and this idea came upon me. I looked up at the Sears Tower (Yes. SEARS. Mother. Fucking. Tower.) and thought to myself…wouldn’t it be cool?

And so I reached. I reached for the tower with my hand. It was tricky, but I managed it with some random weird looks from commuters.

Sears Tower

And then, after looking at the results, I got an even better idea… I bet I could grab that building…

Sears Tower

You’ll see that I can move skyscrapers with the palm of my hand. Because I am a boss. But another idea popped into my head. Because I had been thinking about perspective shots like this since I saw something awesome on A Clown on Fire…And so there I was…

Sears Tower

Squishing skyscrapers with my fingers. Like a boss.

It was a great day. (And maybe Le Magnificent™ Le Clown will come squish sky scrapers with me one day…hint hint beg beg.)

Also, this:

I am squishing you with my mind

I am squishing you with my fingers

Happy Monday Blog Friends!

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Brian Shares Saturday: Did You Miss Him?

Brian’s had a busy few months. He just started a new job, so his sharing has been few and far between. Lucky for you, it seems like he may just be back. So without further ado, I give you…

Random Shit My Boyfriend Finds on the Internet

10 Things I Hate About You Health Ledger

There are several more of these sweet gifs if you click through to the imgur site linked on the pictures. I had to pick my favorites, and Heath Ledger tends to win. And who doesn’t love the stapler?   Have You Seen My Stapler

So, at work I’ve got a pretty small team. And they all know that Brian sometimes sends me random shit. And he hasn’t sent me much lately. So when he sends something, everyone gathers ’round my desk to check it out. And I didn’t pre-screen this one…So it basically went… ha ha ha WTF  ha ha ha…

You’ll see.

Disney  Movie AlternateTitlescute baby squirrel

Happy Saturday!

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Fiction Friday: Lost

The cup of coffee crashed to the ground with a shatter and a splash. She had done it again.  She looked around to see if anyone else had noticed, forgetting that the only other soul in the tiny apartment was her cat. She stared at the broken ceramic pieces that spanned from one end of the galley kitchen to the other, spraying out onto the living room carpet. She held her left hand close to her body, caressing it with her right, as if it would help.

Tears glided gently down her cheeks like the dew on an autumn leaf as she took in this morning’s damage. The last bit of coffee in her barren cabinets was now forming small brown puddles on her kitchen floor. Ben’s favorite coffee mug broken into a thousand tiny pieces, crumbs of colorful ceramic. Her left palm swollen and red from the burn, her fingertips blistering, as her right hand moved to clutch her wrist, isolating the pain from the rest of her body.

As if it would help.

In slow motion she reached into the fridge for a half bag of open corn from the freezer, hoping to cool the burning sensation in her palm. Her heart started racing. He mind dulled. She wanted the pain to disappear. She shuffled out of the kitchen, ignoring the debris on the floor, and sat down on her couch, corn spilling out into the cushion to her right. She looked at her hand. What had she been thinking?

Ben used to make her coffee in the morning.  They had one of those 12 cup pots that made mass quantities of liquid caffeine for the two of them. In any given day, they’d brew at least 2 pots. These days, Karen was lucky to heat one cup of instant coffee in the microwave. And now she was also out of coffee. She knew that there was a crack in the ceramic. But she couldn’t get rid of his mug.

The phone rang and Karen glared at it like an enemy crossing into her territory. In her mind, she kept willing it to hush itself, and in the end, she won. Her mother. Probably. Or her sister. The two of them tried to keep tabs on Karen. But it wasn’t easy. She never answered the phone, and avoided unlocking the door to her apartment on most days.

She wasn’t always like this, though.

Karen used to be bright and shiny. She used to smile. She would drop a scalding hot cup of coffee and clean it up immediately. Her cabinets were full of tasty treats and snacks for surprise guests. Her fridge stocked fresh fruits and vegetables. She did things. She did something. But over the course of time, things drooped. It didn’t happen over night. It was a gradual thing. A gray sky here, a few tears there. No big deal. Until it was a big deal. 

And she didn’t even know it was happening. 

Ben used to try to help. He offered a shoulder to cry on. He made her coffee. He brought her food, even when she wasn’t hungry. He hovered. And she didn’t mind. Because she knew he cared.

Karen looked down at her hand again. The blisters were red and raw. Only a few kernels of corn remained in the bag. Her hand was throbbing, though she wasn’t sure whether it was from the cold of the corn of the sting of the blisters. She dragged herself up and off the couch, walking blindly to the bathroom. She turned on the dimmed light and saw a lipstick note in big red script.

“Depression Lies. Depression Lies. Depression Lies.”

Karen closed her eyes. She squeezed them as tight as she could. And when she reopened them, she screamed as loud as she could, “THEN WHY DO I BELIEVE?!”

Why do I believe that nothing will get better? Why do I believe that I’m alone? Forever? Why do I believe that there’s nothing left? Why do I feel so lost?

And then she cried again.

This post is a part of Fiction Friday Friends and if you’re looking for more fiction, go visit these talented writers!

Fiction Friday June

 

Blog friends, have you ever struggled with depression?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!