Good News on the Von Front

Back, huh, stronger than ever You think I'd sever? Never I'm too clever To be taken on down by your ignorant state of mind..... OK That's enough of that!! It's a rap by a group that I am far far too embarrassed to mention. Please, please remember my musical tastes are eclectic, and I once was a teen aged girl. So, how are you? Oh, me? Good. About 95% better, I'd say. Docs gave me a cleanish bill of health. Well, not so much. But they did cancel my chest x-ray at my follow up on Thursday since they both thought my lungs were clear. Finished with my antibiotics. Now on a nasal spray steroid so I don't blow out my ear drums. Good times, the good times never stop!! But, they did green light my vacation to the lovely and breweryish town of New Glarus this coming weekend. That's all I was hoping for really. So, back to work, back to blogging, back to all of it..... Back to life

back to reality

Back to the here and now.....

No fun

Where have I been, you ask? Well Your hostess with the mostess has gone and gotten sick again. As in. Pneumonia sick. Awesome. I couldn't be more upset about being sick again so soon, missing so much work, being stuck at home. Coughing up a lung every few minutes is less than awesome. Chapped lips that bleed and make me look leperous, not cool. I'm stuck at home until Tuesday. So, I've got nothing.

Fun at the Dentist

Oh, but I wish I was kidding. So, I had to get a mouth guard. Because, you see, I clench my teeth at night, thus causing some damage. Who, me? Clenching my teeth, much like my fists, even while I sleep? Anyway. Went to the dentist to pick up my new $175 piece of plastic. We spent some time practicing the art of shoving in the thing and yanking it off. shoving and yanking, shoving and yanking, yep - insert dirty joke here..... Dentist: Do you have a dog? **giggle from Basia, dental assistant** Me: No. Well, not right now, I want one, so I think we'll get one soon but..... -thinking we're making conversation or something- D: Do NOT get a dog within the next month! -as he's holding my expensive piece of plastic up in the air - M: ? **giggles from Basia** D: Basia? What number mouth guard are you on? B: Number three!! Don't throw them in the washing machine.... D: No dogs! B: No dogs! D: So. Over the next month or so, you will wake up in the middle of the night, yank this thing out and throw it all over the place. The floor, the closet, behind the bed, under the night stand, trust me. You WILL wake up and throw it around. Dogs like to eat them when they find them lying around. Me: *Scoff* That's not going to happen to me! Look how hard it is to yank out! D: Uh huh - sure Von. Go, be free. Let me know how it goes. I leave. I scoff. I go to bed that night. Mouth guard very snugly in place. I wake up about 5:30 am, head to the bathroom. Sleepy. On my way back to bed, I realize that it's not in my face! Ah!! Get back to my room, see costlyplastic thing on my nightstand. Sometime during the night, I took yanked it out, and placed it lovingly on my nightstand. No clue. No recollection. None whatsoever. I'm on night four of this stupid thing. Lasted until 3am with it last night. **Fucking side note: This fucking post does not read right, because fucking blogger keeps changing how I want it to read!! So, fuck you blogger, thanks for fucking up my post. Sorry, reader(s), that it reads really shittily, but blogger thinks this is how it should read. fucking fuck fuck***

An easy one, I think

So, it's Friday. Time for a little fun. Name one song that no matter where you are, no matter what kind of mood you are in, what you are thinking about, it all goes away when you hear it? It brings you immediately to a place, an event, a season, a person? Backstory will earn you a delightful kiss on the cheek from your hostess. Just had one of these (thanks to the iPod currently being on shuffle). The song came on and I started grinning and teared up a little, and sang along in my head. Today, for me, that song was "I can't stop loving you" from the Balance album by Van Halen (or, if you are so inclined, Van Hagar). Happy Friday, my merry minions. Go out and do something awesome this weekend.

Fun with words

When VonMom and I are getting along, I can fully admit, she is FUNNY. Sure, it's a little oddball funny, but funny nonetheless. I know VonSis and I wit-spar, improving our own brand of funny, but the genesis is truly my mother. A text exchange between VonMom and VonSis. VM: Knut is dead VS: Yes, we were kinda keeping that from you VM: You buy me tshirts with dead things on them, and expect me to wear them. VS: I will buy you a tshirt with X and Y (two people that are the bane of VonSis' and kinda my existance) on it. VM: I like the way you think. Evil. Her humor is evil. A text I received from VonMom, yesterday: I got a new Cooling light! Yay! I call her on the phone, after 20 minutes of trying to figure out what a cooling light is. Something for her indoor plants? Some sort of kitchen appliance? A fridge bulb replacement? I had no clue. VM: What? V: Um, so yeah, what is a Cooling light? VM: ? V: cooling light, as in your text, I got a new cooling light today yay!? VM: hahahahahahahaaaaa I'm so funny! hahahahahaaaaa V:? VM: Cooking Light! The magazine! I got a new one today. V: Oh. *chuckle* VM: hahahahahaaa V: ha ha ha ha ...... VM: Ok bye. Also, being the children of an English-as-a-second-language, things come out that we cannot pronounce. I have always known mine: The words: Bull, bowl, pull, pole hurt me to say. Like physical pain in the back of my throat. So I just do not say them. Ever. I know my limits. VonSis is a little different. Her unsayables keep popping up like spring flowers - something new all the time. Her first (and best) is Sonoma - as in Williams Sonoma. So NO ma. Or, as VonSis says, sinimaaa. I like to buy her things from there and then ask where I got it. Good fun for me. This weekend, I told VonSis that I had learned the tab/bass line to "Sugar Pie Honey Bunch". She said "Oh, so you are a real muzzishhhhhan." I stared. VonSis cannot pronounce Musician. At all. She tried and tried again. Not to happen. Her brain has also decided that Knut (may his cute little polar butt rest in animal heaven) is a panda bear. Why, yes, I do find random shit like this funny. I do I do I do. Now, put the bull in a bowl and shove that pole up the........

Hazy and blurry

I'd love to tell you all about my weekend, but it's a little fuzzy. Been on a bender. Which I've renamed to a tear. I like tear better. So, I'm on a tear. No end in sight, either. I kinda like this current tear, I've been pretty f-ing funny. Or so I seem to recall. I can tell you I: - was asked if I made out with M (by M himself) on Friday night. He then said "Because it could happen". - then turned the brightest shade of red I've been in a long time. I have a big crush on M. - drank: Blue Moon, Guiness, Harp, Harp Shandy, Green Line (by Goose Island SO GOOD), Jameson, BBK, Bell's something yummy, some other shot, Guiness Black Lager and some other stuff* - was instructed not to return to work until I made out with someone. I returned to work today, but did not make out with someone. Alas. - invited myself to a wedding. Totally going. April 2nd. I could use a date, but that would probably be even more tacky than inviting myself in the first place. - have been hung-over every day since Thursday. - believe that the hair 'o the dog is the best remedy. - found out there is a lesbian karaoke bar practically across the street from DANK. - didn't go to said lesbian karaoke bar, it was already 2am when it was discussed. - spent too much $$ on comic trades this weekend. - can admit I was not 100% sober when I went to the comic book store. - made up my new band name, with the help of VonSis - Musical Panda. - went to guitar class with a hangover. - learned Little Lion Man at class (kinda not really) and relished getting to sing the word "fucked". - cried like a little girl when I found out Knut had died. - blamed my hang over for the stupid crying. - did say to myself at some point "This is good shit for the blog on Monday!" *When I go on a Tear, I go ON A TEAR

Sorry cats and kitten, so super busy.

So, life is crazy busy, and not in very many good ways. I give you this video, by my number one band to see live.

Nerdy McNerdinstein

I had been invited by one of my fave friends to an event Saturday night. I kept it on my radar, because it did sound like fun, but I didn't 100% commit until Saturday itself. So, I went. To Dark Tower comics, for an event put on by my friend's group, Comic Book Queers. So, me and a bunch of gay men, one other straight gal (or hag, whatevs) chatted, drank, snacked and talked comics. I know nothing letmerepeat NOTHING about comics. I was there to support my pal, SR. But this group was so super fun and into comics and knowledgeable, I couldn't help but get excited. I talked to the workerbee of the store a lot about what I like to read. He got all animated and walked me all around the store. I found myself taking out my notebook from my purse and...... writing down titles For future reference. Two "trades" were thrust into my hands with very strong urges to look them over. One trade was delivered unto me for winning round 2 of Comic Book Squeers. Ok ok ok ok ok So, I left there with three trades - The Unwritten, Sweet Tooth, Doom Patrol, and a plump list of other things to buy in the future: Buffy the Vampire Slayer IZombie* Locke and Key (by one son of one Stephen King) Pax Romana and The Walking Dead (of course) Got home, settled in, doing some laundry. And I pick up The Unwritten. And I devour it. And I crave trade 2. Ah, hell, this could get expensive. So, as I see some of my cool points flying out the window, I fully admit to jumping on the colorful, sexy, dirty and slightly bent world of comic books. *yes, my favorite Zombie, I sought out something awesome and undead and thought of you!

Friday fuuuuuuuucc um, fun day....

So, I'm crabby today. And a really silly thing started it all. See, in our work fridge (one of like four on the floor, by the way), I always put my lean cuisines in the same place. Same place for nearly two years now, same stupid place. I keep mine in the door of the freezer. Just like I keep my other stuff in the door of the fridge, on the top shelf thingy. So, this morning. I come in, go to put my frozen lunch in it's place. I had gone out to lunch yesterday, so the last frozen I had was on Wednesday. I knew I had to replenish my stock, but hey, it's Friday, so I just brought one. AND THE WHOLE DOOR WAS FULL of someone else's frozen dinners. Um, what? One day and you take over "my" space? And I know how these other people are. They bring in a bunch of frozen stuff and then never eat it. It sits there for three or four months. So I just whipped my frozen meal at the back of the freezer. I was pissed. So long story behind today's question: What seemingly little thing, behavior of others, etc just gets your blood to boiling?

40 days is a loooong time

Because I am someone's God-mother, I sometimes have to do things I would normally not do. Like go to church (ok, I've successfully avoided that for the 11 years of precious God-daughter's life, but I know it's coming). And answer questions about Catholicism (haha!! I bite my tongue a lot). And follow Lent. (for the most part). So That means as of today, I've given up the following for 40 days. Bagels (which I eat EVERY DAY) Burgers (don't eat those that often, but still) and Bad-mouthing strangers AND I'm not one of those Catholics who believe you get Sundays off, or that you can have what you've given up on Holy Thursday. This is on until the Monday after Easter. Ok, I'll likely get a bagel on Easter Sunday while the family is at church, but that's still up in the air. Like I said, it's going to be a looooong 40 days. And you thought I was cranky before.

In too deep

Dear Phil, You know I love you, but I just can't take this. Because You can't hurry love, you just have to wait. And Just say the word...oh....sususudieo Because Tonight, tonight tonight, wooohooo And I can't stoooop loving you.....no I won't stop loving you.... Even though you're f-ing retiring. I mean, aren't there supposed to be two hearts, living in just one mind? Against all Odds, Von

FrIdAy!!!

What time is it? Friday Funday TIME!!!!! Here's your query: You're stuck on a desert island. You can have ONE blogger there with you. Who?* and WHY? I'm still thinking about my answer....... *and it does not have to be me.....

Some clarification

Nope, it's not a political post, but more about how ignorant people post incorrect info on teh fb in their vitriolic rants. So. I feel the need to clarify. 1. Mayon Daley is STILL MAYOR until May 15. This means Rahm Emanuel takes office MAY 16. As in RAHM EMANUEL IS NOT YET MAYOR. Which means: When you write 'Why isn't Mayor Emanuel visiting the injured cop in the hospital?!?!? Asshole!!!! Doesn't care about the city or the police!!!' UM - Why would he? As he is quoted as saying: He's not going to park his car in front of Daley's. So, who should be visiting the cop who's in the hospital? DALEY. 2. Jody Weis had a CONTRACT as Chicago Police Superintendent that expired yesterday, 3/1/11. Which means that his job was actually completed and over and finished and ended on 3/1/11. When you write: 'Man! Look at Weis! He doesn't even have to give two weeks notice! Asshole!!!! Doesn't care about the city or the police!!!' Um, you are also an ignorant asshole. Lemme 'splain - a contract has a start date and an end date, which means that is the date that he is finished with the responsibilities of said contract. And guess what? We HAVE an interim Superintendent - Terry Hilliard, former Superintendent, called by da Mayor and asked to fill in for the two months until Mayor Emanuel puts someone else in the top cop slot. And from what I remember (and this will get all the feisty cop people all up my ass, but whatever) Hilliard was well liked and did a good job. So, nothing to bitch about!!! Nothing to see here people!! Moving on!!!! Also stuck in my craw this week: People who get off on being the first with new information. For the record - Yes, I did love @mayoremanuel on Twitter. It was awesome and hilarious and creative and all that good stuff. No, I do not care who wrote it. I would have been perfectly fine never knowing who did. But hey! Now we do! ANNNNDDD I still do not care. I don't a) live in Evanston b) go to Columbia c) give two shits who he is ***notice, I'm not even going to bother naming him here*** The only good part about knowing who he is is that the allegedly assholey, uncaring, callous, Mayor-elect, the actual Rahm Emanuel is still going to *gasp* keep his promise of donating $5,000 to the tweeter's charity of choice.

LAME

I wish I could give you a delightful recap of my weekend. I will try: Friday evening was ten shades of awesome, as I spent it at Jennifer's house. I tried to smuggle out Squirmy Dog and YL (who is also squirmy), but that didn't turn out so well. I did manage to leave with a copy of "Icebergs" by one TLB, so that was cool. We had a lovely time hanging out, chatting and being snarky. I think Jennifer only hit me two or three times with throw pillows, and I know Grizzled nearly spit beer twice. (He's catching on to me). Saturday was guitar class/graduation. VonParents came to see me graduate (aka play on the big stage). We played "Hide your love away". Not my first choice, but I was actually happy with how we did. Ok, with how I did. VonDad did say that I'm getting better. No discussion as to the ownership of his guitar (that I've had in my possesion for over a year now), but that will come in due time I guess. After graduation, I had lunch with VonParents at DBAG, my favorite Bar and Grille. Both our server and bartender are friends of mine, so it was a great experience for my parents. They really like it there, and they don't eat out that much, so I was happy they had a nice time. Post lunch I had to go to a wake. Thankfully as I was getting out of my car I ran into my OTSFM co-worker. We headed in together. My friend/boss (who's father's wake it was) cried because I had shown up. That made me tear up a little. I'm a sucker for tears. Spent some time there, then finally headed home. It was a loooonnnngggg day for me. Cancelled my Saturday night plans, and had zero plans on Sunday. I blame winter and h1n1. I have zero interest in leaving the house until a) It's not snowing b) There's no chance it's going to snow or icestorm c) I don't have to wear 18 layers of clothes. Sorry, but I'm a winter wimp, and I've had enough. My couch/books/ds are all the company I need until spring. Though, I'm having a huge hankering for some Olive Garden. That I would leave the house for in a blizzard. Did watch the Oscar's, kinda. I wasn't really interested, so I had it on while I read the latest book club book. Went to bed early, had to get up for work today. Why, yes, I am a wet noodle lately. Thanks for noticing.

Friday Funday

Baseball predictions: Go: And yes, this is totally going to be used to make my fantasy team WINNERS. P.S. I'm going to hang out with Jennifer, Grizzled, EL and YL tonight. So so so excited. Guessing you might be so so so jealous. * and yes, you will likely be discussed*

Ha has from the hospital

A few times last week, while in the hospital, certain things were said or done and I thought to myself - Damn, that would make some good blog fodder. So, here's what I can remember: In the ER: ER Nurse: Is there any chance you are pregnant? Me: Nooooo. -she walks away and quickly comes back- ER Nurse: Are you not pregnant because of any surgery or condition that prevents pregnancy? Me: *sigh* No. I just haven't gotten any in about a year. ER Nurse walks away, quickly, but didn't get far enough before she busted out in laughter. I think I made her night. Day 1: Indian Med student asks many many questions. He walks away, remembers to ask something, comes back...... IMS: Do you have any other STDs? Me: Nooooo IMS: Ok and turns to leave Me: Excuse me? IMS: ? Me: You should be careful how you word things..... IMS: ? Me: Well, you said any other STDs. This indicates that I have a STD, which I do NOT have. IMS: Sorry, my English is not so good. Me: Well, for future reference..... IMS: Thank you. I will remember that. I'll bet he will. *ring ring* Lady: Food service? Me: I'd like some food? Lady: Of course! What do you want? Me: x y z..... Lady: Don't you want some dessert? Our ice cream is very good! Me: Oh, and some chocolate ice cream! **I then realized I kinda liked this part of the stay** The missing Gibb brother was my Transport dude. Not once, not twice, but three times. I wanted to ask him about his delightful hair style and very 70s clothes each time, but I realized my very sick self was in his hands. He could have totally dumped me on the floor at any point. So I left it alone. But I swear, he was the missing Gibb. My NCT (nursing care tech) was TOTALLY hitting on me. Though married, he dug me. And my h1n1 self. He was chatting with me while I was waiting to get the final heave-ho. He came over, gave me a half-hearted kinda awkward hug, and said "Maybe I'll see you at Walmart some time." Um....Walmart? Not likely. I'm a classy, refined Target kind of girl, mister.

Friday Funday

So, I began talking to my toaster today. I think it's time for me to get back out there and interact with humans. I did have a nice visit with StepSis1 yesterday. She brought me orange juice, and pop chips, and nail polish. AND she came inside and visited for a bit. No one else has done that this week. IT was soooo nice. ANYWAY Friday Funday. So, I had me some H1N1. Aka Swine Flu. What would you re-name it to? TO better suit me? Or, if you were to get it, what would you call it? aaaaannnndd scene.

I can post Rush Video Too

Update

And the results are in: H1N1. Go me! I mean, go big or go home, right? Thankfully, all of the other things have resolved - blood pressure and oxygen back to good, fever gone. I'M HOME Still under quarantine for the next few days, no work, no human interaction. I'm still contagious. But, I'M HOME! And clean, and in clean clothes, and warm, and doing laundry, and reading magazines, and sitting, not lying, down. Man, I'd love a good coloring book right about now. :) I'll be taking the rest of the week off, as being in the hospital and now in quarantine it's pretty boring, so not a whole lot of inspiration, but I'll be back next week. Thanks again friends!!

FYI

SO, what's worse than being alone on Valentine's Day? Being in the hospital, alone, on Valentine's Day. That's right friends, I'm in the hospital. Likely the flu & pneumonia, no confirmation yet, still waiting. I've been here since about 1am Sunday morning. Blood pressure and oxygen level need to go up, fever needs to go down. I'm 10 shades of miserable. Hope to go home tomorrow, but there are a lot oaf ifs and maybes around that. I'll keep you posted.

Friday Funday!!!

Today's topic? Words and the spelling of them. There are certain words I avoid using when blogging, mostly because my spell checker is a fickle bitch and only works when it feels like it. And, as we all know, there are a few grammar/spelling police around the place, so..... My word that I avoid most is: definitely I can never ever spell it properly, and YES I did go to dictionary.com and look it up before writing it here. Today question - ok, well, two questions - What word(s) can you absolutely definitely not spell correctly every freaking time you use it? OR What word(s) are you convinced you've spelled incorrectly every time you use it, but it's actually correct and it just looks funny to you? Extra points for profanity - you know how I roll. Have at it, frenz.

mah luma lumma lums

When I was a little girl, a little younger than my precious God-daughter is now, there was only one person I wanted to be. My favorite show was Kids, Incorporated. I wanted to sing! I wanted to dance! I wanted to kiss cute boys! I wanted to work in this magical place that was all kids and no silly grown ups! I wanted to be Stacey Ferguson. Oh, did she have pretty curly blonde hair! And a great singing voice! And look at that hair! Man, she had the bestest clothes and jewelry, all neon and slouchy and awesome! Flash forward a number of years Sunday night, watching the Super Bowl with J & T, two of my most favorite people on Earth. I found myself saying it again. I want to be H E R. Fergie = Stacey Ferguson (in case you lived under a rock or something) Or do her. I can admit it -she's top of my If-I-was-I-would list. Me: I want to be her. T: Me too. Me: But I'd totally divorce her man, Josh. T: No, he's hot. Me: Agreed, but there are hotter men out there, and as her, I could schtup ALL of them. Being married would just be a road block to that. T: Agreed. Me: I'd do her. J: ? Me: I would. She's that hot. T: Me too. J: This. This is why I like hanging out with you two. But GOD FORBID when precious God-daughter told me a couple of years ago that she "loved and wanted to be like that lady". Me: Which lady, precious? GD: The one that sings and dances and wears the clothes. Me: ? You gotta help me out here. What does she sing? GD: Mah lums! Mah luma laalie lumms!! Me: Oh, hell NO!! Sorry kid, over my dead body! GD: pout and stamp feet. Sorry, but the Stacey Ferguson of today is NOT the Stacey Ferguson of yesterday.

Another multi-topic post.....or a Mish Mash

Dear Troll: Just so we're clear, and you aren't all confused: I am indeed a woman. A woman through and through. So we don't need your kind around these parts. Scurry back to where you came from now, as your comments will be deleted. I don't play nicely with needy pitiful things like you. KTHXBAI Von My favorite Super Bowl commercials? Toss up: I LOVED the Volkswagen mini-Darth one. Super cute. Strong second was the Chrysler/Detriot commercial featuring Eminem. I've always had a thing for drrrrty badddd Eminem, but he almost seemed like a grown up in this spot. Sure, an angry grown up, but that's ok. My least favorites: The one with the fake baby smashed against the glass for whatever reason, and the doritos finger licking one. BLECH. I don't think Omar Epps is too upset he lost the Super Bowl. I think I saw him say "It's cool, I'll just go back to that whole acting thing. Once I shave off this weird beard/mustache thing." Had a weird experience in guitar class on Saturday. Right away as we were warming up to "Our House", all of the fingers on my left hand went numb. I couldn't even form a C chord. Tom (teacher) looked at me quizically, as I kept trying. I didn't feel like interrupting the class, but for real, about 20 minutes this week and last, right out of the gate, my fingers went numb. I'm guessing it's some sort of nerve thing. Must investigate. I play a mean "I want you to want me" now, just so you know. Over the weekend, I added a shit ton of Heart to my iPod. Why I had never added these CDs before is beyond me. I've had a Heart craving for a while now. A little Barracuda never hurt anyone. And since I was adding CDs, I grabbed some Guster and threw it on there too. I don't know why it's taking me so long to get my CDs on the iPod. I think I'm still skeptical. It's an ongoing project. I also bought some songs on iTunes. Some Linkin Park, Seether, Genesis, Rush and Sting. (I'm nothing if not eclectic). Stumbled upon a fantastic documentary on Saturday. It's called "Don't you forget about me." and it's about four Canadian film makers who are travelling to Chicago to try to meet with John Hughes and talk to him about his films. Of course, they did NOT get an interview, but they did get a surprising number of Hughes film cast members to chat on camera, as well as people that worked with him, and even Kevin Smith (who I sometimes like, and sometimes don't) who was very respectful and honest about his thoughts on all things John Hughes. I highly recommend this movie. Of course, also on on Saturday was "Road House" and y'all know how I feel about that. I dedicated some time to RH (ok, the Sam Elliot scenes), but was pretty committed to the documentary. Received a notice from Netflix today that "Human Centipede, the director's cut" is on its way to me. I've been told by many many male friends that I will not be able to watch this whole thing start to finish - well, um, have you met me?!?! That challenge alone, to prove them wrong, is about all the motivation I need!! Not going to lie, though, I'm a little nervous about it. But I'm so intrigued as to how he breaks the legs to make them look like they do in the preview.....stay tuned on that, my friends.

Sometimes

sigh Sometimes, blogging is hard. I mean, anyone can post pictures and you tubes of songs, this takes very little thought. Which is why I don't do that. I try to come up with things that are not so boring, and not so dull to entertain. And sometimes, that's just h a r d. So, for today, a mish mash of what is in mah brainz Yesterday, Book Club, the awesome that is TLB. Not only did she rock book club's world, she's been invited to join, as she was unanimously found to be one cool chick we want to hang out with. She's accepted the offer. This is a delightful development. Saturday night, I re-made friends with Jameson. Good ole Jameson and I had a *ahem* falling out right about oh, Shannon and TheMarty's rehearsal dinner, when Jameson and I were so much in love that I *cough cough* might have over-indulged by about seven shots......Any who, new year, new friends. We're taking it slow, only enjoying each other's company for two shot's worth of time. Looks like it could be a lasting friendship. Oh the heals of Saturday night, you might want to know that Burger King breakfast can fix just about anything. For realz. I worry about little things a little too much. Like how I don't feel my guitar callouses are developing at the rate they should be. People (strangers) often find me staring at, nay, inspecting my fingers tips on my left hand.... If I had a shot of Jameson for every teh fb post/status/comment about the impending snow storms, I could probably be in an alcohol induced coma until the spring thaw.

Friday Funday is Baaacccckkk

After last week's solemn hiatus, Friday Funday makes its return!! Woo to the hoo..... Now, for today's question: What is your favorite remade song, and remade by who? (Whom? I'm bad at this one) And why? Have at it mah frenz.....

Wordless?

Woke up with at start at 1:00 am today. Sure, 90% of it had to do with the increasingly evil/awful people that live in the building that share walls with me, and the fact that they LOVE doing laundry and fucking around in their closet at that time, but the other 10%.... I'm hosting book club (Not Your Momma's Book Club, to be exact) this Sunday, with our very special guest - TLB . Now, I've hosted probably five or six times over the course of the Club, but this is going to be different. See, we've read TLB's most recent book, "The Countess" for this meeting, and she is doing me a solid by coming to the meeting. Um, yeah, so it's her book. (If you don't know me, authors are about 1 million times cooler than "celebrities" all the way.) And she's awesome. And I'm wantin' to be friends with her. So the questions I have for her so far: So, um, how soon until we're like friends? When do you want to hang out next? What's Brando really like? Where'd you get that cute top? None of which are book related, or conversation worthy, and all of which will get me super-strange looks from the fantastic ladies of NYMBC. What they might get me is a restraining order. Normally, I prepare with some good insightful questions for the club about the book. Now, when I put pen to paper to jot down questions, I just: squeeee!!! Becky's coming to book club!! This is the coolest book club ever!!! Who else gets the gosh darn AUTHOR to come discuss their book?!?!?!? And it's Becky, and she's kinda awesome..... So, you see my dilemma. Never at a loss for words, I'm wordless. I have 3 days and 4 hours (give or take) to figure something out. In the mean time, I should probably go email the members and ask for some help.

And another thing

Another thing I don't really write about? Sports. I leave that to Brando. BUT Guess who showed up and decided to play some actual football yesterday? The Greebay Packers did. The Bears did not. Like VonMom says, it's all about who wants it. Who really really wants it. I guess the Bears didn't really want it, when the only one playing the actual game was my main squeeze, Brian Urlacher. I did want the Jets to win, though, then. I hear the Jets not only knock you down, but they break your legs doing it. The Packers could use a few broken legs. So, on Super Bowl Sunday I'll likely be at home with some chili/cheese dip and the commercials. Eagerly awaiting the special Glee episode. Yesterday's loss means nothing to my life, not really. I still had to wake up and come to work this morning, so things are pretty much the same. Besides, it's mere weeks 'til spring training!

So I say

In case you weren't already aware.... Cancer is an evil, evil bitch, and she's being particularly evil in 2011. Just one week ago I attended the (emotional, moving) memorial for a friend of a dear friend who lost her battle to cancer at the far too young age of 40. Now this week I am very sad to say that my cousin, Michael, has lost his battle as well. He passed away on Sunday at the also too young age of 57. Michael was an incredibly talented musician, husband, and father. He was also the person that my mom felt closest to in her family. At only three years her junior, they grew up together more like brother and sister than aunt and nephew. I shake my angry fist at cancer, for taking Michael away before we could build a relationship, before I could learn many musical things from him. I give cancer the finger for devastating my mom. Michael and Chris - may angels lead you in. There's a special place in heaven for those who had to suffer so much on Earth. To see just how awesome Michael Becker was musically, please visit his IMDb page. But please do not comment on his IMBd, as it's not yet public knowledge that he has passed away.

Who's ready for another Frida Funday topic!?!?

Friday Funday #2. Recap, for those of you with bad memories: I give you question. You go to comments, you answer question. Ok, here we go: What song, or if you feel very strongly about it, what artist/band do you wish had never existed ever and I mean forever this song/person/band never polluted the air-waves, or ear-wormed anyone, ever. For me, that would be Taylor Swift. She's brought nothing of value at all to this world ever. Her smooshed barbie face should just disappear and the world would be better for it. Ok.......have at it. Looking forward to your answers!

To compromise

So, I'm not thin. I'm not now, nor ever have I ever been thin.* This is a fact, something I've never tried to hide, here on the blog or anywhere else. Most people in my life love and accept me for who I am. Others........don't. So, to keep the peace, I promised VonMom I would go see a nutritionist. (Or in VonMom speak, nutritionalist) So, I saw one last night. During a snow storm. Not close to my house. Had to leave work early to get there. But.I.Went. Poor, poor nutritionist. Didn't know what hit her. I'm fully confident she went home and drank a few (likely calorie laden) drinks after our meeting. I was......myself. Before she could get to her spiel, I had to ask if she is a registered dietician. She is. Ok, not getting up and walking out yet. Mid-spiel, I said. "Please. Please stop reading from your script. I am me. This is me. I want you and I to have a conversation. You need to know about me before you can tell me what are some tips that are likely to work best for me." Well, she stopped reading from her script. We talked. She went all deer-in-the-headlights when I said: "You should probably know that I promote fat acceptance, am dabbling in fat activism, and am about to read Healthy at Every Size. You should read Healthy at Every Size too." and "You should also know that I tweet, and blog, and will most likely write about this is some form of social media in the very near future." This is the point where we started to compromise. She agreed to look into HAES, and I agreed to eat oatmeal two days a week. She agreed to put away the rubber food and the this-is-what-a-pound-of-fat looks like props, and I agreed to go to the gym on Sundays. I can work with compromise. Seeing that I am.....vocal......100% of the time, and I was also defensive and (admittedly a little on the offense) honest and......vocal.....during the meeting, she gets props for keeping me there the full hour. She may be a little afraid of me. This is fine, I will not lose sleep over this. If our compromises work and I become a healthier me, then that's ok by me. If they do not, at least I can say 'well, I gave it the ole college try' and continue living my life. A life that I love, and I feel is very complete, and interesting, and waaaay better than a lot of other people's lives. I wanted to state, here and now, that I've given a lot of thought to sharing this with you. Also, thought has gone into my new acceptance/activism and whether or not it will affect this blog. I've decided it will not. Much like politics, there are many many many out there who are doing a very good job blogging about these topics, and I'm going to leave it to them. I stand by my original idea/theme - which is to not have a theme. Or, to just continue to be the misanthropic ranter you know me to be. This post is simply the same as every other post I write - based on something that is on my mind right now, that I think I can witty-up a little and entertain you for a few moments. *I am of the pleasingly plump / charmingly chubby variety of life.

Let me remind you

Once, again: VFN is not about politics. I don't write about politics because, well, I just don't. There are enough bloggers that do, and do it very well, so I don't need to. That's their thing, and that's awesome, and I learn a lot from them. BUT I will tell (warn?) y'all that due to a sinus headache (that I still have now, day 3) I ended up cancelling my plans and curled up on the couch pretty much all afternoon and evening Saturday, and a good part of Sunday evening too. And I was watching ONLY news. CNN, MSNBC, and for some giggles, Fox (ok, the last was about 30 seconds, before I felt the bile well up in my throat and I had to turn it off). So, one might say, and one might be correct, that I have not only opinions (strong ones) but also the facts and knowledge to back them up regarding the tragedies in Arizona on Saturday. That being said, God help the headline spewers who think they can hold a conversation with me on this topic. I hope certain people/politicians can spell culpable, and define it. And that's all I'm going to say about that......

My new blog thing:

Going to try this out, see how it goes. New!!! HERE!!! For 2011!!!! Friday Fun Day!!!! Which means..... I ask a question, you answer it. And this will entertain me. Friday Fun Day #1 Question: What do you think I look like? And for those of you who already know......do I look like what you thought I would look like before you met me? Unfortunately, this leaves Shannon and TheMarty out of the game for this week, because I'm sure they never mulled over what I looked like before they met me.......Maybe they could write what do they wish I look like? HA hahahaaaaa... Have at it, mah frenz.....and make me proud.

and finally

I'd love to tell you that my New Years Eve was filled with drinking, drugs, and wild abandon.* But I'd be lying. After searching out and trying on my super awesome scandelous black dress (think corseted top with eye-hooks, and red polka-dotted mesh under skirt) and determining that it.still.fits (go me!) I started thinking about how I wanted to spend my last night of 2010. cue the dramatic music And I stopped thinking about it. I've come to believe that the people who go out out on NYE are either younger than me or coupled up. Sure, I could have gone to DANK and drank and whooped it up with a bunch of people I get along ok with, and polka-ed with a bigger bunch of total strangers. I've done this in years past. It was fun. I've had fun there. But, ultimately, I didn't think that was the best place for me. Options, I had many. I opted for very close to home without being actually home. The daytime hours were LOVELY. I visited with Sil1x, her kids, and her bestie (love her!) for a couple of hours. While Sil1x was trying to coax me to spend a few more hours with them, I had to move on. Went and spent a couple of hours with Chris and precious God-daughter. Because when it comes down to it, precious God-daughter is The most important person to me. Has been for the last 10 years and 356 days. Again, while I wanted to stay with her for much longer, I had to move on. My hangover from the night before (see below) required, nay, demanded that I go home and nap for a few hours before going out time. I took a 2 1/2 hour nap. I'm very, very good at napping. First stop of the evening, VonStepBro1's house. He of the 8million course Asian wedding dinner. He throws good parties. He makes really really good drinks. Bits and pieces of my extra-ordinarily large immediate family were there. VonOtherBrother and his girlfriend **I make smelly face here. I don't like her. Not ONE BIT**, VonStepSis1 and husband and son **I remind you who her kid is - the 24 year old who acted like a baby when he opened his gift**, VonStepSis2 and husband, new sister-in-law's brother, the family accountant **no, I'm not kidding. but he brought cup cakes, so it was ok I guess** and some random friends of the hosts. Good time. I drank a little and watched t.v. VonSis and the LandOverlord were in NYC, so I was watching the Times Square crowd to see if they were there. I love wasting time. Midnight - drink Champagne, throw some confetti, tell people I love/like them very much. 12:15 head over to hang out with some friends from high school. They are twins. One of them is married with kids and lives 9 houses down from me. Had a few beers, had even more laughs, was home in bed about 3:45am. It was a good night. I didn't feel lonely. So that was a good thing. There you have the recaps. I may or may not at some point tell you alllll about my first Umphrey's McGee show. But you might have to sign a confidentiality agreement first. *The drinking, drugs, and wild abandon night was on 12/30. When I went to see Umphrey's McGee for the first time. FUCK, they were face-meltingly AWESOME. At least, from what I can remember.....

Recap #2

Warning: This post contains a filthy little secret. I share because I love. You may mock me, but know that I am who I am. Christmas day. Of course, I didn't sleep hardly at all. Had spent the night at VonParents', as I do every year. I slept in VonSis's room, because it has the bigger bed, and some actual heat. Alas, VonRoom has a small bed and no heat. Sob, the story of my childhood. VonMom forgot to put sheets on the bed, and I had no clue where to find any, so I slept on the mattress pad. Not awesome. She had also just laid the pillow cases on the pillows, likely was planning to get back to that task at some later time (maybe after she found and put on the sheets?), so I just left them off. Bare bed, bare pillows. The only person who had it worse than me was baby Jesus in his straw manger. We went to breakfast at some crappy place. Couldn't go to the regular place, nooooo, because VonSis had said this place was good. It wasn't, not by a long shot. Eating soap might have been better. Spent some quality alone time (aka taking a loooong shower to rid myself of the cigarette smell I was sure was just everywhere. Because it was. Blech. I have become that kind of ex-smoker). Headed to Chris' to spend the day with God-daughter. Had an AMAZING time. Watched "Despicable Me" which GD had gotten as a gift. Played some games. Ate some food. And had our gift exchange. Chris really pulled one over on me. She and GD kept handing me envelopes.....pictures, pictures, calendar, gift certificate. I think we're done. Ok! Chris stands up and pulls another envelope out of her back pocket. "Oh, yeah. Here." and hands it to me. I open it. And inside is a ticket for a very good seat to the NKOTBSB concert! I tackle Chris. Like for real. Like we went flying, so did the couch, so did a bunch of things. Laughing laughin laughing "I told you she would like it" Chris said to Victor (her boyfriend and GD's dad) Oh yeah, I'm going to NKOTBSB. And I really don't care that you know that I am. I may be revealing my age (somewhat), but that's my youth, specifically, my teenage years. That's who I liked. Along with The Cure, Morrissey, The Cult, The Church, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Depeche Mode, Metallica...... Catch my drift, while I was mostly cool in the music department, I was still into New Kids. So Chris and I will go, and scream and sing along and have visions of Donnie Wahlberg professing his love for me (or just an offer to make the tour bus rock), and it'll be awesome. And that's how Christmas day went....... These recaps keep rolling, step by step, ooooh baby, gonna get to you girrrrlllll.......

Recap #1

Ever have one of those day/nights that you just cannot get drunk, no matter how very hard you try? That was my Christmas Eve. I drank, and drank, and drank some more. I didn't eat very much, as is my new practice around VonMom. (I don't want to hear her comments on my eating habits) And still, I remained sober. Well, way too sober for that occassion. Blissfully tanked is how I get through my Christmas Eves. Christmas Eve 2009 was one of the best on record, when I lost abou 45 minutes of the night. Anyway. Sober me was trying to be all nice and festive. Then time to open presents happened. Hm. I actually got a couple of presents. This is new. And they were good presents. This is even newer. But then the person I had in the grab-bag opened my present. I thought I was in the clear, as I had purchased off his Amazon list. Now, I too have an Amazon wish list. And I know it's my responsibility to keep that list updated, as I know people go to it for gift ideas. If I get something off the list, I take it off. Easy peasy. Apparently eldest nephew is not hip to the concept of list updating. And was a total child about it. He's 24, by the way. He made a mini-scene upon opening gift. Which would have been bad enough. But he kept at it. I told him I didn't feel badly because I got it off of his list. He said he felt bad because he didn't update his list. I said, well, that's on you. Because it is. And I didn't and do not feel bad about it. He was still complaining about it as they were packing up to go home, hours later. GROW UP. On the flip side - next youngest nephew loved loved loved his gift from me, the awesome aunt. Over the summer he told me how when he runs and trains (he plays varsity baseball at his high school) he falls down because his shoes are old. I filed this info away. And I bought him new shoes. Here in Chicago, we call them gym shoes (regardless of if you wear them in a gym). You may call them sneakers. Whatevs. They were Nike running shoes, and they cost me a pretty penny. But he deserved them. He's a good kid all the way around. I love picking on him, and that he takes it so well. As he looked at the largish (he's a size 13) wrapped box in front of him, he looked at me and said: "It's from you, Aunt Von" "Yup. What do you think it is?" "$0.50 taped to the bottom of an empty box?" (he can dish it out as well as he can take it) "Open it and see" And then he loved them. And tried them on. And they fit. I even got a follow up email thanking me for the shoes. He said he also got new basketball shoes, which will be his every day shoes, but he's planning on wearing the ones I gave him for training and running. (which is why I bought them) The best gift I received that evening was a Dalek key chain. And when you turn it over, it's a bottle opener. I love this gift the best because VonBrother#2 bought it for me. A) he never has bought me a Christmas gift before 2) he bought it after I mentioned how much I'd love something like that when he told me he was going to a Dr. Who convention the day after Thanksgiving. And he remembered I said that. That is the best gift giving there is. Not at all the dollar amount, more of the thought behind it. It was interesting (though I guess it was supposed to be endearing?) when VonMom told me to "Go to bed, so Santa can come." I translated it to "Go to bed, I have nothing further to say to you today, and don't you need some beauty sleep? Those bags under your eyes aren't getting you a boyfriend." And this was just Christmas Eve.... So much more to tell you.......

Merry Happy

I had been thinking all week about how I wanted to write today's post. Did I just want to write Fridge Note: Merry Christmas Bitches? Did I want to get sappy Auld Lang Syne-ish? Did I want to quote lyrics from the Sister Hazel Christmas album? Then last night happened, and to me, retelling that story is the best gift I can give you. By now you all know that VonDad is my most favorite human being ever. And VonMom can be difficult. So last night I was at VonParents' house. We had some chicken soup (awww. because I've been sick). We were talking for a bit. VonMom: "I have this song I want you to hear!!" Me: "Ok. NO!!! I want to hear MY song. Really really really loud!" VM: "Ok, after you hear my song...." Me: "NOOOO!!!! MY SONG RIGHT NOW!!!" Of course, I lost. VM is now in the dining room, trying to get her CD to play. She's got a shiny new CD player hooked up to her stereo system from 1976 (not kidding, it's really from 1976). Her stereo system kicks major ass. The whole house shakes when you get that thing cranking. VM: "!!!! How do I make this work! This fucking thing won't work! BOB!!!" ***ahhhh, the holidays***** Finally, she gets "her song" to play. It's some song called "Christmas in Chicago", from the Yule show put on by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Meh. Trite and trilly. Song over. Me: "Play my song N O W!!!!!" (Probably should fill you in right about here.....my favorite Christmas song is "Do They Know it's Christmas". We used to sing in in choir, I had the Boy George solo. Also, my dad used to play it really loudly on Christmas day to wake VonSis and me up. Soooo the memories make it my favorite. VonParents own this song on vinyl.) VonDad gets up, goes into the dining room, and finds the record. VonDad: "You're lucky we still have this." Me: "No, mister, you're lucky you still have this!!" .......dunn....dunn.....dunn...duun.....(I can't really do the intro to that song justice, but y'all know what it sounds like) The house is shaking. VonMom and I are dancing and singing around the dining room and front room. VonDad is sitting in the kitchen, laughing, watching the whole mess. I grab a stuffed elephant off the piano and start dancing around with it. Singing at the top of my lungs. VonDad is laughing and shaking his head. VonMom is singing and kinda dancing while also taking dead leaves off of her plants. Me: "Get in here mister!" Didn't think he would, but he did. Sure, he didn't sing or dance, but he bopped his head, it's more than I expected. While this was happening, my brain whispered to me: 'Remember this. Soak it all in. It's going to be one of your favorite holiday memories of all time. Just you and your parents, dancing around like fools.' .....and in our world.....of plenty.....we can spread a smile of joy.....throw your arms around the world......at Christmas time!!!...... Merry Happy to you.....my friends. No matter where you are, or what you celebrate, you'll be in my thoughts.

Hating the hoarders

The other night, I was on the phone with Sil1x. As is usually the case, we ended up talking about at least a dozen different topics. One that we landed on was that show, "Hoarders." I have never, ever watched "Hoarders". Sure, it's gross, and they find dead animals, and there's some b.s. therapy and some crying, and a nasty-assed yard sale - "HI!!! This table was under 54 pounds of garbage!! Wanna buy it for $10?", and I guess all of that can be entertaining to some people. Not to me. But not for the reasons you'd think. Here's my thing. I get mad (jealous?) at the people for one simple, silly reason. Those bastards have HOUSES. AND THEY MESS THEM UP AND MAKE THEM UNLIVABLE. Um, yeah. Let me remind the reader, I live in Chicago. This means that my apartment is so small, I have to choose one thing every day to throw away. I mean, if I let it go a week, I'd probably be a borderline hoarder. Closets? I have ONE. So for me it's more like one new article of clothing in? Six old ones must be given away. Immediately, like same day. None of this building a bag to donate, NO ROOM for that. The only place I do not feel cluttered is my fridge. Because it's huge and new and pretty. I could jam more and more cheese, produce, beer, whipped cream all the time. And I can KEEP things. Like condiments. I have some. I don't have to throw those away. Sad thing is, I don't cook. Freezer full of Lean Cuisine's and caramel Drumstiks, fridge full of cheese, salsa, milk and beer. Just writing this post makes me want to make a list of what I should go through, clean out, throw away today. There may be something under my bed that lies there mocking me. Back to my point. I want a house. I want a house more than I want anything, more than I've ever wanted anything. And I know this is NOT going to happen if I choose to continue to live in my major metropolitan city. At best, I'll get a condo. Which will just mean what? Maybe another closet, but likely not much more space? And yet there's Mabel, or Billy Bob, or BettySue on Hoarders with these old, big, once lovely HOUSES. Real houses, with yards, and stairs, and stuff. And they fucked it up. And it'll probably have to be torn down. Or if not, the cameras will go away and the asshole will go back to hoarding more crap all over again. Much better to watch "Married to Rock", I told Sil1x. There's nothing at all to get mad at that show about!!

Here they are!

These mah kidz.

Vince, Erica, Andrew, Angela.

My kids

I get attached to people very, very easily. Sure, I'm a venom-spewing, people-hating misanthrope most of the time, but when I like people, I really like them. So, there's my kids. I've written about them here before, but it's been a while, so humor me. Plus, I'm on cold meds, so humor me more. My kids. Ok, not really kids anymore. The youngest is 22. They can drink. They plan on drinking tonight, when I see them. Tonight.When.I.See.Them. See, I had let my kids go. Or so I thought. It's been over three years since I stopped working at the Teen Center. While I don't miss the place, I always miss what good we were doing there. I'm proud of my seven years there, even though some days were the hardest days of my life. But my kids made that job easy. There is a core four of them, and an extended pile of about a dozen or more all together. I saw the core four last year. Probably around Christmas. We agreed we'd see each other over the summer. Didn't happen. So, I let them go. They are all my friends on teh fb now, so I just figured I'd keep up with them there, and that would be enough for me. They are growing up, they have lives, and more important things to do than to catch up with me. Then, one day early November, I got an email from one of them. He wanted us all to get together at Thanksgiving. We made plans - that I eventually and unfortunately had to break. They sent more emails. December 20th was agreed on, and even my kid who now lives in Los Angeles would be able to go. Today is December 20th. These kids have family and friends to see, and they are all coming downtown to have dinner with me. We'll eat and *sigh* drink and be very merry. We have years and years of memories to recall, and they have loads and loads of new stories for me, with their college lives, and real lives and all. And I will smile like I haven't smiled in a while. And I will hug them all, because even the boys (men?) let me hug them. And I will tear up a little on my train home. Because I know, now, that no matter how old my kids get, and however far they travel, and whatever they end up doing, I will always occupy a little corner in their brains, a part of their good memories from their high school days. Because I am theirs' and they are mine. Hopefully for many many years to come.

Fridge Note:

I'm sick. Like porcupine in my throat sick. I hate sore throats, they can lead to other bad things. So, I have nothing witty nor bitchy to say. Who wants to bring me a venti vanilla roobois tea latte? This seems to be the only thing that helps me...... boo hiss, I say.

Gack

Words I don't like at this time of year: Wintery Mix Feels Like Measurable Snowfall Wind Chill Is-it-cold-enough-for-you-? Sleet Ok, sleet is a very cool word, just when it happens not in Chicago.

MAN!

Wow. That last post was sooo much better in my head. Sorry about that lords and ladies. I'll try better next time. F*ck me for trying to write a decent post while I'm pretty busy at work. On a totally unrelated note: Welcoming Consider the Source to my blogroll. Because, you see, he's HIlarious, and an all around good guy.

By perspective

For no reason in particular, I've had a few conversations with women I went to high school with, and still am friends with. The topic of popularity came up each time. I find it really hard to define popularity in our school, as it was a Catholic, all girls school. So, not the norm, I think. Interestingly enough, I had not one, not two, but four different thoughts on who the popular girls were. My hairdresser went so far as to point to herself and say "We were". I gave her a blank stare. "Well, we were the athletes." Um, no - athletes did not equal popular at a smallish all girls school. I had to tell her no, they weren't. Also, that no one I had talked to about it had named her group as the popular ones. There was one group that was mentioned that back in high school I might have deemed popular simply based on a few criteria - they were cool, they were beautiful, they were fashion forward, and they had the hottest boyfriend. But in hind-sight, they weren't actually popular. I think the best answer I got was the simplest. Chris looked at me, paused, and said "Well, we were. You and I." I was about to correct her, but then I paused. We then discussed that even though she was all skater girl, and I was all black converse high tops and new wave music, and we were in plays and no we didn't play sports, and yes we got into trouble - lots and lots and lots of trouble we got along with just about everyone. The one thing that made Chris' statement true is that we knew and were friends with everyone. I mean everyone. And if I didn't like someone, Chris might and vice versa. So that being said, we really did know EVERYONE in our class. And the classes above and below us. The main point is who cares? Who cares now? Does this affect any of us in any way shape or form? Does the fact that I field and deny many friend requests on teh fb on a regular basis make me any more of a person? Probably because I don't care now, and I never cared then is why I was popular. I have no idea why I even wrote about this - it was just on my mind. Sorry for the rant.

Aftermath and carnage

So I guess whatever happens at the cookie party stays at the cookie party. Wow. Those ladies can drink. And party. Here's some of the numbers of the party: About 20ish - number of ladies that attended 10 - bottles of wine consumed 1.5 - bottles of vodka consumed 14ish - beers consumed 6 - two liters of raspberry ginger ale used as mixer 22orsoish - lbs of food consumed. 21orsoish - lbs of said food that was cheese related 1millionty - dozens of cookies brought, redistributed and left with 18ish - ornaments swapped 1 - very intoxicated friend. But that's cool. We've all been there 0 - pictures taken by me. By the time I realized I could take pictures with my phone, it was too late. Nothing but carnage and aftermath 0 - male friends who showed up in drag. Maybe next year. I tried to get Shannon to sleep on my couch, but then it got all snowy and she said "no I has to go snow snow snow blah blah blah" It took me two days to clean up and recover. Good.Times.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

You get a post today because tomorrow I'm outy 5000. I'm having my kinda-annual Cookie and Ornament swap. Also known as: Let's us ladies sit around eating carbs, drinking too much, and being snarky bitches. Tomorrow, 6:30 to whenever. I love my party. Generally. This year it has outgrown my 418 square feet, and has been moved upstairs to VonSis's place. This means tonight and tomorrow I get to lug food/drinks/cookies/decorations upstairs and set up a space that isn't mine. I have at least three friends coming who have never been to my place. This means I'll have to schlep downstairs to show them my place. This means, I have two locations to clean pre and post party. VonSis upsides:

• Dishwasher
• Space. Lots and lots of space. As in: we can do drinks in this room, cookies in this room, food in this room.
• Decor. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure she's been decorating.
• Did I mention space? She's got lots of it.

VonSis downsides:

• I fear VonBroInLaw/Landoverlord will show up and not leave. And there's nothing I can do about it, as it's his house.
• Not very cozy. Maybe I'll just sit on different people's laps, make it cozier.
• Not my space, so I'll be a little nervous.
• Stairs.

My knees have been getting better lately, and I'm down to seeing AwesomeKneeDoc once every three weeks now. But damn, I'm still no good at stairs.

I am going to try try I said, to take some photos of the shin-dig, as I know some of you like to say "pictures or it didn't happen".

And you'd all be invited, except that it's ladies only. And I just now realized that most of my readership is men. Huh. Who wants to wear a skirt and some lipstick and show up anyway?

Fridge Note:

No one I know completed NaPoBloMo this year. Way to go, mah individualz!! Love ya, V

I've got nothin'

I don't want to write about what I thought I wanted to write about. I wrote a whole post, and then deleted it. Then I stared at my screen for about five minutes, waiting for some inspiration. None came. I'm stumped. See what happens when it snows?!?!?!

Was that supposed to be a long weekend?

And people wonder why I am tired. Here's a recap of what should have been a restful long weekend. Thursday: Up early. Watch the parade on t.v. Turn on the wrong channel, get confused as to why this sucks. Why isn't there any singers and dancers and Broadway numbers? Oh, I'm on the wrong channel. I'm an ass. 12:30 head over to eldest step-sister. Bite tongue (repeat/repeat/repeat) tweet all of the things I cannot say out loud. Overload twitter with all of the things I cannot say out loud. Get in fight with he-thinks-his-shit-doesn't-stink elder step-bro. 4:00 head over to Chris' aka home of delightful God-child. Eat, drink, hug and kiss delightful God-child again and again and again...... Head home at 10:30. Fall asleep on couch like the old lady I'm turning into. Friday: Up at dawn (ok, 8ish). Head to dad's favorite diner to meet VonParents for breakfast. Recap of Thanksgiving, I get snarky, I get shot down. blah blah. Go to VonParents' house for some stuff. 11am: home and time to decorate. 11am - 4:30pm decorate non-stop. OhmyGod I have a lot of crap. Holy shit, I have a million ornaments. This is dumb. I can't keep doing this all by myself. Lug seven rubbermaids back down to storage. Curse them. Wish Christmas was more than a month away, because a month seems like a very short amount of time for all of this gosh darn work I had to do. 6:00 Meet John and Toni for dinner at das BrauHaus. Beer. German food. Time with two of my most favorite people ever. Awesome. 9:00. Home. Cannot move. All joints have locked up from overdoing of the manual labor all day. Fall asleep in chair, sitting up, for two hours. 11:30 Debate continuing to sleep in chair all night long, to avoid getting up. 11:35 Decide my crappy decorations might start a fire, so I might as well get up and unplug them, then I might as well go to bed. ouch. Saturday: Guitar class. Felt picked on. Not so happy this week. Pinky actually starts to bleed due to f-ing up some chord changes. Reconsider my musical calling. Recommit to musical calling. Music is pain. Run errands. Dollar store, grocery store, pharmacy, bank. Begin work on holiday cards. 9:00: OH MY GOD I CANNOT SIT IN THIS HOUSE ANYMORE NO MATTER HOW CUTE IT IS. Run out the door to meet Jessica and her bf and parents for a drink. Or three. Or four. Get home a little later than I expected. Sunday: Stroz brings breakfast. I'm pissed, as I have to put a bra on, which was not part of my plan for the day. Entertain Stroz. 11:35: Start being mean to Stroz so he'll leave. I have a plan for the day, and this is no longer part of it! 11:37 - 3:00ish: bake. bake. bake. Bake some more. Oh, and do laundry and take out trash while all this baking is going on. 3:01ish. Tell myself I'm an awesome baker. Because I am. 3:30: Out the door to Jon and Teresa's with some cookies. Hang out til half time of the Bears game. Half time (I no longer know what actual time it is): run to VonParents' with cookies. How long is halftime? This is as much time as I'm allowed to visit. She's that die-hard. 1st minute of third quarter of Bears game: Drive home. Shit, I have 1/2 of my holiday cards to write out! 9:00 cards done, yet strewn all over living room floor. Fall asleep to the news. 9:55: Damn it. I have to do that 'get into the actual bed and set the actual alarm thing' So, how well rested are you?

Grateful is Great

Turning off the bitch, and turning on the schmoop: This year, my list is long. Some things are the same, some things are new, and some have dropped off. Most currently, I'm grateful that my Metra stop is also an El stop. Thus getting me home when many many people were stuck on the Metra for over an hour Monday night due to weather. I'm grateful for my job. I more than love it. I'm treated better than I've ever been treated in my working life. I have fun every day. I work for and with some of the brightest, nicest, best people in the world. I'm grateful for Old Town. I've met some of the most interesting people there. Plus, I'm beginning to actually consider myself a musician, a life long goal of mine. I realized on Saturday (smack dab in the middle of butchering "Imagine") that my happiest moments, my best me, is when I'm sitting in guitar class. Not only am I actually improving, but my singing voice has gotten even more awesome. I'm grateful for my apartment. It's my warm, cozy little sanctuary where I can let everything go, and just be. I'm not there as often as I'd like, but when I am there I feel safe and like I can recharge. And, truthfully, I'm grateful that my sister is my landlord. When she's in a good mood. I love when she'll just come downstairs and hang out with me. Even if we're just watching tv together. I'm so glad I decided to move in there, and she's the main reason I have no desire to leave. I'm grateful for this grande decaf non-fat cinnamon dolce with whip that I'm chugging down right now. Sipping. I mean sipping. Yum. I'm grateful for my family. Those that I know, and those that I don't. I'm grateful to teh fb for helping me to better know those that I don't. I love that I can tell my little (ok, she's 26 now, but to me, she's little J) cousin Pinz (ok, her real name is Lindsay Jaye, but I call her little J or Pinz. Little J because her mom stole my middle name, spelled it differently and gave it to her. So I'm big J, she's little J, and that's enough of this parenthesis) any way, I can tell Pinz that I love her, and she tells me the same. Just because we're family. I love the family that is wholly mine, and mine via a step. My family is nothing if not unique. And that uniqueness makes us interesting, entertaining, and fun. I'm so so so grateful for my friends. Stealing from a cool chick I know, friends are the family you choose. That couldn't be more true.

• Laura, though we're going through some bumps right now, is still my number 1 go to whenever something happens, good or bad. I love that she just knows who everyone is, because she's been there for almost 22 years.
• Shannon is my friend that I should have known my whole life, and plan to know until the end of time. She's that which was missing and I didn't even know it. First to pick me up when I'm down, there's nothing we wouldn't do for each other.
• And now, by extension TheMarty. Same deal. He's more of a brother than a friend. He's the person I want to talk to for hours and hours and hours about Phil Collins' merits and a sundry of other topics.
• Chris is the light to my dark, and the only person who has ever been my roommate, and the only person I could imagine being my roommate. She's given me the greatest gift I've ever gotten - my god-daughter Lizzie. Chris is my Thanksgiving hostess with the mostest who gives the best hugs.
• SIL1X is one of my favorite friends. She's my go to for Olive Garden indulging, or Scene It playing, or just sitting around chatting having a blast. She's so easy to be friends with. The moment I met her I knew that she and I were going to be good friends. She gives me confidence and makes me feel good about myself. She's another one on the short list when I need advice.
• Jessica has come strong out of the gate of awesome, and I feel so lucky to have her as a friend. She's honest, caring and an all around good human all of the time.
• The Boston 5. I have never, never, never been in such a situation where I've met 5 of the best people in the world. And they like me! They really like me!! When I crave going to Boston, it's really to the 5 of you that I want to travel. I know that you're my friends, and that makes me all smiley.
• Everyone else. I'm one of the lucky ones in that I have the very best people around me.

I'm also grateful for you, my reading audience (all two of you). My blog roll. My friends. Those of you that I've met - Jennifer, ZRM, MenD, Snag, Chuckles, Brando, TLB - you people are now my friends, and you're stuck with me!! :) All kidding aside - I feel like some of you know, or at least get, me better than people I've known for years. The support and honesty you give to me is such a gift. You pick me up, way up, when I'm down. I feel I can be totally honest with you here, and that you won't mock me. Ok, you'll mock me, but in a nice good-natured way. Please always be yourselves, and let me know how you feel. Even when we don't agree, we'll still be friends. K-Unit, B4, Mikey, Fish, and the rest of you motley crew - you mean the world to me. It's my privilege to get to know you, and call you friends.

I'm grateful that I have awesome hair. Because I do. And an awesome wit and good comedic timing.

I'm grateful that I can spell and use grammar properly. Clearly, this is a honed skill that not many people have.

And now that the snark has crept its way back into the post, I'll end it here.

Know that I'll be thinking of you tomorrow, wishing you a very Happy Thanksgiving, and being thankful for you.

Change is a sucky thing

The more things change, the more they change. I remember my first Christmas Eve morning that I didn't live at home. I woke up and started crying because things were changing, and even though (at the time) I thought they were changing for the better, they were indeed changing. I wanted to be in my old bed, in my parents house, not in my room in my apartment. The bf (at the time) was there, and tried to comfort me and told me that every Christmas from then on would be him and me, and that would be all happy happy and wonderful. And I (at the time) believed him. Here I am, a number of years later, and things are changing again, and not for the better, again. Every year for the past 21 years, I have spent Christmas day with Laura's family. Her mom would make this fantastic meal, and it was my tradition. Sure, there were little changes over the years, people would come and go, but there was always dinner at Laura's parents' house. My favorite memory is one from the years that Laura was married. Laura had to do double duty, so the plan was for her to eat dinner at her parents' house, then head over to her (at the time) hubby's family for dessert and then come back. I stayed at her parents' house. It was just me and Laura's parents. I went in to the living room. Her dad followed. We chatted for a few minutes. He fell asleep, her mom came in to the room, we chatted for a few minutes. She fell asleep. I fell asleep. It's being that comfortable with people that makes them family too. I just found out last night that Laura's mom is not cooking this year. These days, Laura lives pretty far away now. These days, Laura is pregnant, and will be very very pregnant on Christmas. Plus Laura's son will be with his dad. So, no Christmas day for me. Sure, I knew it was coming, but I wasn't ready for it to be now. And I've got no Plan B. I really don't think I'll be staying at my parents' house all day. I spend the night there Christmas Eve (our tradition. Well, tradition and I'm traditionally pretty sloppy drunk and can't drive home) and we have Christmas morning and go out to breakfast. That's about all the time I can take with them. I know that it would be very very bad for me to just sit at home by myself. Are pizza joints even open on Christmas day? I have to come up with something, and fast. Just thinking about it makes me all sick and sad. I know, I knew change it was a comin'. It doesn't mean I have to just take it in the gut and smile about it. This post brought to you by the phrases "at the time" and "these days"