I’ve Got Friends in Low Places…

Friends come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

I’m blessed to have found all of the above. Yes, even the seasonal friends. Sure, they didn’t have some BIG part of me becoming me, but I sure enjoyed the ride.

For Day 13 of the 25 Songs in 25 Days, we’re asked to share a song that reminds us of a former friend.

With my chosen song, I think of many former friends all at once. Back when my parents owned a bar and I was an Irish princess. Everyone’s your friend when you own the bar. It’s when you stop owning the bar that you discover your true friends. The lifetime friends. And even the reason friends. The rest were just there for a season. And that’s okay.

When I was a little girl, dancing around the bar after my daddy’s softball games, playing with the other kids, we’d listen to the old-school jukebox and rock out to the 80’s music we loved. Of course, we weren’t the only ones plugging money into the machine (money we got from nice bar patrons who would hand us dollars to play whatever we wanted). And more often that I would have liked at the ripe old age of 8, Garth Brooks would croon about his friends in low places. And you know what?

He was right.

I may have hated that song when I was 8, but by the time I was an adult, consuming my own legal beverages at the bar, I was singing along to the tune with the best of them. I had friends in low places, where the whiskey drowned and the beer chased my blues away…From Peoria to Lombard I had friends at bars across the state. And that was my world for a spell. An intoxicated, swaying world. But it was fun. And I still have some of those friends. But not all. And such is life.

What songs remind you of old friends?

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A Conversation About Fairies

Brian: If I were to create a D&D character for you, what would you want to be?
Me: Do you just want to create more characters?
Brian: No, we’re going to play.
Me: Umm…what are my options?
Brian lists a bunch of general things like controllers, defenders, strikers…and explains them
Me: Can I be a fairy?
Brian: Umm, you could be a gnome.
Me: That’s not a fairy.
Brian: They’re fae.
Me: But gnomes live in trees and fairies have wings.
Brian: You could be x,y, or z.
Me: Can I see pictures?
Brian pulls up pictures.
Brian: These are gnomes.
Me: Where are their hats?
Brian: They’re not garden gnomes.
Me: But David the Gnome wears a pointy hat.
Brian: Not. That. Kind. Of. Gnome.
Brian runs through a few of the pictures, explaining the characters.
Me: Okay, I’ll be a fancy elf.
Brian: Eladrin.
Me: Yeah, that.

Did you ever play D&D? (Dungeons and Dragons in case you didn’t know). Would you?

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!

Real Jungle Harmony…Just the Bare Necessities Around Here…

Day 9 of the 25 Days of 25 songs really sung to me (puntended).

A song that gives you hope.

I knew it had to be a Disney song, because nothing makes me happier than Disney music.

And while I was getting my lunch ready with my pal, CC, we were talking about my incessant need to dig my back/shoulder into the corner of the wall to get the knots out…and she told me I was just like Baloo…

And Brian and Baloo ARE buddies…

Brian and Baloo

Then she started singing The Bare Necessities…

Done.

“Forget about your worries and your strife!”

“You’re workin’ too hard!”

Blog Friends, what songs give you hope?

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!

That One Time My Life Was Like Breaking Bad

You guys. You will not BELIEVE what happened. I FINALLY got permission to write about this little sitch-something about statute of limitations or something?

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So, a friend of mine owns a rental condo. A sweet little condo in a quiet little suburb. And the most recent tenants left in quite a hurry. We’re talking furniture, clothes, garbage all up in that place. It was a disaster. Broke their lease and rolled the fuck out. Leaving a few new additions to the place as well (read: almost all of their earthly possessions were left behind)…including a wall safe, a full-on security system, an extra fan in the kitchen, and a gun locker.

Drugs. Definitely drugs.

Of course this was just a little bit of educated guessing…

Well, my brother and I helped with the final clear out after our pal had spent hours and hours cleaning this place up. All that remained by the time we showed up were a few pieces of furniture and the gun locker.

Somehow, this large gun safe made it to the outside of my family’s home (and by somehow, I mean we loaded it in a truck and carted it to my parents’ place)…because, you know…visions of random DIY shit danced in my head…until I noticed that the gun locker had a key broken off inside of it.

Someone broke that key off on purpose.

Curiosity, it appears, runs in my family. Little Brother decided that it was absolutely necessary to get this locker opened. So he grabbed a hammer and a flathead screwdriver and went to work.

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Of course, at this point, my dad came out and saw what was going down…he looked at my brother’s efforts, and his response was something along the lines of a laugh and, “No, son, you’re doing it wrong.”

Dad walked to the garage and grabbed a crowbar. I didn’t even know we HAD a crowbar. I almost thought for a second that he was going to go in for the kill, but then he handed the crowbar off to my brother in some primitive man-to-son thing. My brother got back to work while the fam looked on in wonder? Curiosity? Fear? Excitement? One of these, I’m sure of it.

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And within minutes, we’d broken into the gun locker. Recap: if you want to break into a gun locker, lay it on its side, get a crowbar and pop that bitch open.

Inside the abandoned gun locker with a key broken off in the lock we found all sorts of crazy shit.

Aside from the visible golf tees(someone explain this to me. Is this a drug thing? My only real experience with the drugs was with The Drug Addict. Googlepedia only told me that drug addicts play golf), most of it was packed into grocery bags. Some of us less-than-wisely decided to reach in and see what was in the bags…

Of course, being a gun safe, there was all sorts of ammo for Winchester rifles and God only knows what else inside, including a giant fucking bullet or shell or whatever you call it…

Inside some of the bags, on first look, was garbage…but upon further investigation, we discovered used(?) hypodermic needles and melted/burned/cut-in-half pop cans (apparently, this is common drug paraphernalia for crack cocaine? Thanks, Google) and a bottle of methadone (cooking crystal meth, were they?).

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At this point, we called our friend to explain that we had popped the safe open, discovered a world of not-so-awesome shit and maybe we should call the police. Our buddy came over, assessed the situation, took the gun case back to the condo…and tossed it in the dumpster near the unit.

Terrifying visions of retaliation from crazy drug lords danced in our heads…getting rid of it in the quickest and dirtiest way seemed like the least likely route to get killed.

For the record, the police WERE notified…and while my friend offered to show them the dumpster full of used drug paraphernalia and ammo, they said it was no big deal. This is not the outcome any of us expected, but when the popo say it’s all good, it’s all good, amiright?

Blog Friends, what’s the craziest thing that’s randomly happened to you? What would you have done in this sitch?

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!

Two Hours in the Life of Me. A Typical Atypical Day.

The other day my morning progressed in the following fashion:

7:00 AM: Woke up. Late.

Got dressed. In the dark.

Packed some snacks for work and yogurt for breakfast.

Waited on Brian. (This is unusual as he is typically waiting on me.)

Gave Brian my gigantic umbrella. Used a tiny substitute.

7:42 AM Missed my train. By a millisecond.

Thought to self, So this is how the day is going to go.

8:25 AM Got to the city.

Walking to work, I looked down at my shirt. Inside out.

Got to the elevator.

Thought to self, If the ‘vator is empty…

Then people jumped on. Got to the 16th floor.

Realized I didn’t push the 13.

Thought to self, So this is how the day is going to go.

Pushed 13. Flipped shirt outside in.

Elevator opened.

8:45 AM Got to desk.

9:00 AM Looked for yogurt. Left bag at home.

Thought to self, So this is how the day is going to go.

And the day pretty much continued like that.

Sometimes, I feel like this is the norm moreso than it is unusual for me. Inside out shirts, forgetting things at home, not paying attention to where I’m going, fixing the problem in the most inappropriate way ever…I mean, if anyone had gotten on the elevator between floors 15 and 14, they would have gotten a much better view. Also, I think there’s a camera in the elevator. Whatever.

If you don’t believe me, here are a few additional examples.

That one morning when all hell broke loose with the broken glasses and the freezing and the ugh right before vacation.

That other morning when I was a little late to work because I forgot my keys

That time I got a concussion because of a no parking sign and the Willy Wonka of meat candy.

That other time I almost died because of an invisible wire.

I mean, at least it’s spread out over the course of several months, right?

Me on a good commuter day (okay, fine...this was on my way home.)

Me on a good commuter day (okay, fine…this was on my way home.)

Why do we rush around so much? What’s your rushed morning look like.

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!

Every Two Seconds Someone Punches Someone Else in the Arm-And That’s Why We Can’t Have Nice Things…or World Peace

A conversation Brian and I had this morning had me in tears I was laughing so hard. I had every intention of getting on the train and typing it in my phone so that I didn’t forget it. And then I got on the train and got all chatty…and boom. It was lost.

So when I went to write the post at lunch, I was all, SHIT! I forgot what we were laughing about. Or rather, what I was laughing about. Luckily, when you have a boyfriend as cool as mine, he’ll text you a little reminder. And then you win at life.

Brian: What do you want for your birthday?

Me (thinking): I hate this question
Me (talking): I don’t know. World peace.
Brian: Okay. I will give you world peace. Two whole seconds of it.
Me: That’s impossible. The whole world is never asleep for the same two seconds.
Brian: No one has to be asleep. I will give you two seconds of world peace. You don’t have to trust me.
Me: You’re not going to give me world peace.
Brian: Yes I am. I’ll give you two seconds of world peace. It’ll be good. You’ll love it.
Me: It’s not even possible. Something bad happens in every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of…
Brian: No. I’ll give you two seconds.
Me: I don’t believe you.
Brian: You’ll get two seconds of peace. I swear. And I will tell you ahead of time so that it’s an actual prediction, but it’s up to you to confirm it. But you will probably punch me in the shoulder during that time out of spite like a typical human.
Me: I don’t have to punch you in the arm. It’s not going to be two seconds of world peace.
Brian: You’re going to punch me in the arm in those two seconds aren’t you?
Me: Yes.
birthday dessert

This. I want this for my birthday. Cheese in my dessert.

I hate it when people ask what I want for my birthday. So the next time someone asks, I want something really clever to say. Any ideas? What do you want for YOUR birthday?

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 May Not Have Won a Bloggie, but I did Win a Dance Off and That’s Good Enough for Me.

So, y’all remember how I’m an elite Yelper, right? The other night, I attended a sweet Elite event at my favorite breakfast restaurant, which happens to conveniently live across the street from me…for 17 more days.

At this delightful event, we were served mimosas, crepes and French toast…in our pajamas. And you know how I feel about breakfast. I love me a pajama jammy jam if there ever was one, and any opportunity to wear my sparkle camo slippers in public is a big win.

There are sequins on them, I swear. Also, don’t judge my Polish cankles.

Anyways, so I found out at about 7 that the Bloggies went and lied, saying they were tweeting the winners on March 31, but really they did it on the 30th. Whatevs. I was over it with three swigs of my mimosa. (I was honored to be nominated for THREE flippin’ categories, and it makes my heart happy that y’all supported me in this endeavor. So thank you!)

But THEN the Yelpy community manager, Candice was all, “Hey there’s a dance off!”

And I was all, “Pants on dance off, right? No public pants off dance offs, right?” Because sometimes you have to confirm that shit.

My pal, V, was chanting like “Do it! Do it! Do it!”

And I’m thinking to myself, Fuck. I’m not wearing a bra…

And then I thought…But I have mad dance skillz. 

OBVIOUSLY, I danced anyway…

And tied for first place. It was a great honor for sure, because my dance moves were rocking (not). I did the running man, the twist, the Chrissy (basically bounce around like a fool until someone tells you to sit down before you hurt yourself) and many more. And I looked like an ass. But people think I’m funny…or they feel sorry for me and I got a gift card to go back and get me some corned beef hash bennies (it’s the best corned beef hash ever. Even better than my own corned beef hash recipe!) *drool*

And here’s a video created by one of my favorite Yelpvendors Andres D., photographer/videographer extraordinaire!

Have you ever participated in or won a dance off? What did you win? Would you do it? What would you dooooo for a Klondike bar (or an ice cream sandwich cake)?

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!

Holy Crap, We’re Actually Moving.

Life update:

It’s hard to believe it’s been 18 months since we moved into our little Downers Grove apartment. Our first home together with just the two of us. The first non-college apartment I ever lived in. The first place I officially moved out of my parents’ house to live. There’s some serious nostalgia here.

But I’m excited. Because I’m pretty sure the apartment has been trying to kill me for 18 months. And because this means we’re legit looking for a house. Where we can build a secret passageway and a slide/staircase. And create the perfect quirky and unique home that is all ours forever. (I’m an optimist, kids).

Moving to a new home

Our bedroom hasn’t looked this perfect since that day we moved in. *facepalm*

Our move is scheduled for less than one month from today.  For the duration, 95% of our things are going to live in storage, and we, along with the other 5% of our crap, are going to live in Brian’s childhood home. We have a few weeks (and zero weekends) to pack up all of our things and decide what we absolutely need to keep with us and what we don’t. Obviously, I’m having a hard time with this.

But on the bright side, this adventure ends with a second move, from storage to a house.

I want to know, Blog Friends, what would you keep with you when most of your stuff has to live in a storage unit for an unknown duration of time.

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!

Three Years Later, and No One Can Make Me Laugh as Much as This Guy

Today is our third anniversary. We’ve now got 3 years of a laughter-foundation to build on. Last year on our anniversary, I wrote Brian a schmoopy and ridiculous letter and made him a super special card.

This year, I’ll spare you the schmoop and (hopefully) make you laugh.

Thanks to Daylight Savings Time, I’m still not in my normal sleep patterns. So Brian was ready to fall asleep the other night when I rolled into bed. I popped a melatonin (Dudes. The NatureMade Vitamelts taste like mint chocolate. #shamelessplug #noonepaidme) and tried to get sleepy.

Of course, I started rambling at Brian about him getting sleepy and hypnotizing him into loving Disney and wanting to go to all the Disney parks in the world. He picked up on my game and started saying we could go to Disney Antarctica (and that segwayed into tap-dancing penguins [because shouldn’t every conversation lead to tap-dancing penguins?] and flying puffins).

Eventually, though, he commented on my lack of sleepiness. And this is how that conversation went down.

Brian: You’re not tired at all, are you.
Me: Nope. But I’m trying to tone it down.
Brian: You’re melatonin it down, you mean?

At which point I started laughing like a hyena and giggling like it was the funniest thing on the planet. Even though it wasn’t really. And then he was totally awake. And trying to shush me. But I couldn’t. Stop. Laughing. And was thankful that our downstairs neighbors moved out because I was laughing REALLY loud. And I would have felt bad.

5 minutes later, I was out like a light.  I do that. All awake one minute; passed out the next.

Things like this happen. All. The. Time. Because he’s funny. But mostly, he’s funny to me.

To the best boyfriend on the entire planet-Happy Anniversary.

Do you and your person/boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/partner have weird inside jokes and make each other laugh with really bad jokes?

 

 

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!

Frozen Parody – Thanks for Making me Laugh Until I Cried WGN Chicago!

You guys!

I HAD to share this with you.

You know how much I swooned when I reviewed Frozen?

And you know how much I bitched when the Polar Vortex came to town?

And of course, how much I bragged when  I ran into Lake Michigan in winter (It was too cold this year, kids…I just. Couldn’t. Do. It.)?

And that one time I built a snow beach in my front yard?

Snow Beach

After the last Snomageddon in January 2011, I made myself a snow beach in subzero weather in order to win a trip to Mexico. I didn’t win. But this picture will live on forever.

Well, this video from a Chicago news guy pretty much says it all. Really, I am so jealous I didn’t come up with it, I can’t see straight!
Enjoy.

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!