Just a reminder.....

Shannon, MenD and Jennifer...... and anyone else that wants in on my superduper good graces You have ONE WEEK to provide baked good featuring the aliens from Toy Story, preferrably with their cute little green mouths forming the "oooooh" as in "Ooooooh, the claw!" Shannon might get a pass until MI get away that's coming up. I'm thinking she can make me my requested (ok, demanded, I demanded it) birthday meal while we're in Michigan. but the rest of you...... gets to bakin'

Mish mosh

What's on my desk, that probably shouldn't be:

• Two crocheted Zombies, Zoe and Zeb.
• One Zombie Surfer key chain.
• One Donnie Wahlberg NKOTB world tour doll.
• Two Hello Kitty figures.
• One elephant mini squirt gun
• One alien in a space ship top
• One bottle MAC Fix+ mist

Yes, I do think I'm a grown up.

My computer is fixed. For the low low price of $100. Well, it was actually going to be $60, but they offered to install a new (and WORKING!) Norton anti-virus, so that was $40 more. Eldest StepBro wrote "I'm insulted" on my fb. I wrote back " You don't get to be". I didn't even know he was back from wedding#2 in Hong Kong, so whatever.

I am not pleased with my gd shuffle feature today. Kinda hate everything it's spitting at me today. Except the Muppet Show theme song, because that's AWESOME

I've finally done it, I cut my nails on my left hand only, leaving the right hand loooong. Know why? That's right, little troopers, because that's what guitar players do. And I'm a guitar player!

Speaking of guitar. Graduation is this Saturday. We're either playing "I've just seen a face" or "Champagne Supernova". I HATE Oasis, so I really don't want to so probably won't be practicing that one, and keeping my fingers crossed that we'll play the Beatles instead. One can only hope.

My knee is about 68% better. As in I can almost walk down a flight of stairs without looking like a 90 year old.

And that's what you get for today, a bunch of things rolling around in my head.

Crazy busy

Friday night, I volunteered at the 10pm Patty Loveless show at Old Town. Normally, I would NEVER work a late show, but man, I just love her. So, I worked it. I was not disappointed, she sang all of my favorites: "Blame it on Your Heart", "Here I Am", etc. And as the coolest place ever did not let me down. I was out in the foyer or office for a lot of the show because I was head vol. Bummed to be hearing but not seeing Patty Loveless was tempered by the fact that I kept running into MeShell Ndgeocello. Like a lot. Like we got to the point of laughing about it. MeShell was in for two shows and Old Town on Saturday and was pretty much just hanging out there. Awesome. So, needless to say, I got to bed really really late on Friday. Or early Saturday. Saturday: Leave at 8am for knee doc appointment. Knee doc stuff. Massage/heat/electro-shock therapy*/ultrasound therapy Grab a quick breakfast. Drop off laptop for repair. Guitar class. Head to Lakeview to watch Nebraska v Texas game. To VonParents to drop off borrowed chairs. Pick up dinner. Home, a little over 12 hours after I left. Was hoping for a nice QUIET night at home,with much sleeping. Didn't happen due to very very loud very very inconsiderate neighbors. They were in our yard, not their yard, until very very late. IT was loud and horrible and evil and now I hate them. *I'm supposed to say it's "muscle stim", but I prefer electro-shock therapy. That's what it feels like, and it sounds soooo much cooler.

Also broken?

Laptop. Was downloading the new version of iTunes, and computer froze up. iTunes icon disappeared. All songs are still on the computer, but I can't get to them. I tried to re-download iTunes upgrade, no such luck. Awesome. what.next.

Today I feel like this song, Broken:

Between my knee, my car, my finances, and my heart.....this song has been on repeat in my head oh, all week now.

A sign?

Our last night in New York, we walked (pretty far) to dinner. I was walking with LB4, my super awesome rep from San Francisco. We were chatting, she has a beagle puppy named Cooper. I had told her about Charlie before, and she was making me laugh with awesome stories of Cooper's shenanigans. We were stopped at a red light at the corner of Central Park and something. LB4 grabbed my arm just as a little, tiny beagle puppy ran at us and jumped up at me. I looked at the owner and said "Can I pick him up?" she said yes, so I picked up the little ball of fluffy awesomeness. The little thing was all lovey on me, licking my face and making the same yelpy-whiny noises Charlie used to make. "What's his name?" I said, mid cuddle "Charlie" I damn near dropped the little guy. I teared up a little bit, kissed the little puppy head and put him down. I thanked the lady and we crossed the street. LB4 looked at me. "It's a sign" I didn't think much of it, but since that day, I've been yearning to pet every single dog that crosses my path, and I do, almost every day. Yesterday, I met Preston, a super sweet rescued greyhound. He loved me about as much as I loved him. To the point when it was time to part way, he just leaned on my legs and ignored his lady. It's time. It's past time, I think. Sure, thinking of my little perfect Charlie still can make me cry, but it's been three years, and I'm starting to think that if we don't act soon, we may never get another dog. I'm standing strong on our criteria: no puppies, male dog, rescue dog, hopefully mutt. Ok, truth be told, I really REALLY want a beagle or puggle or pug or bull dog, but I know getting a mutt is the best thing. Now, to convince VonSis and VonBroinLaw that we should do this. That's going to be the hard part.

Stupid is stupid

Saturday afternoon, I'm heading to my part time gig. It's way down in Lincoln Park, so I'm taking the El. The Brown line, to be specific. Normally, I park on the north side of the Rockwell stop, but the other day there wasn't any parking, so I headed over to the south side of the stop. I found a good spot, gathered my stuff and headed to the stop. Of course, right as I'm about to cross, the gates go down and the lights and bells start their thing. That's when I see Stupid Asshole (here after referred to as SA) in his stupid blue car. SA is on the other side of the crossing, but I notice him because he's in the wrong lane. As in the on-coming traffic lane. As in the lane that doesn't have a train gate. SA is thinking he's going to go around, beat the train. Shit. I look at him he looks at me I look at the train that's right there he looks straight ahead... I scream "DUDE!!!!" and throw my hands up in a very clearly STOP kind of way he decides to cross And gets hit by the El train. I would have been stunned except for the car bumper shrapnel that came flying under the el train at me and my legs. Thank God I was wearing jeans. I smell burningness. I see the car is not where I had been when it tried to cross, but on the other side of the road. I see the people on the train all going to that side to see what's up. I don't know if he's hurt or worse, or if anyone on the train is hurt. I'm kind of standing there, refusing to look down at my legs. I don't think I'm hurt, but I don't really want to know, so I'm not looking. All I'm thinking is 'I have to get to work' I start to walk back to my car, and I encounter a police officer. "Did you see what happened?" "Yes. Yes, I did" "Are you ok?" "Yes. Yes, I am. Some pieces of bumper came flying at my legs but.....I have to go to work." The cop asks me to go around to the other side, where the accident was. Ok, I'm not going anywhere anyway, as the trains are still held up. I get in my car and drive back around to the other side. Here, I can see that the driver - clearly not hurt - has run off, and left his car and his passenger behind. His car is 10 shades of messed up. The gate that he decided to go around ended up going through his back seat windows when the train spun the car 180. There's glass and car parts and burning stink everywhere. And people. There's lots of people. No one had been close by when the accident happened, thank God, because they might have been injured too. There are police and fire men, EMTs and reporters. I'm seeing all of this with the sparkly clarity of shell shock. I'm texting my boss. I'm going to be late. You are too. Trains aren't running. Car hit train. I saw the whole thing. I'm talking to the people, and I become The Girl That Saw the Whole Thing. The trains start moving, so I decide I'm going to get my stuff, and go to work. This is still all I'm thinking about. The cop who had first stopped me approached me again. He asked me for my statement. He said the passenger said some huge line of bull shit that made no sense. "Did that happen?" "No. No, this is what happened." I gave my statement. Now, I'm mad at SA for being such a SA. Really really mad. The cop thanks me for my statement, and now wants to address the bumper shrapnel that I'm pretending didn't happen. "Can you show me your legs?" I just sigh and lift up my jeans legs one at a time, expecting the worst. of all the gd days to not shave my gd legs.... Thankfully, there were no plastic shards sticking out of my legs, just a few scratches and scrapes. gd it, there are now some tears in my jeans, now I'm really mad!! The cops take some pictures of the scrapes and scratches, and thank me for my time. Nothing major on the injury front. And I go to work. Now, on to getting the sights/sounds/smells of the impact out of my brain. Think that might take some time. And for that, I'm really pissed. Stupid asshole.