Wicked Pissah

The tricycle of awesome - aka me, Shannon and TheMarty are heading out to Boston tomorrow. At noon they're going to pick me up at work, and off we go. We're driving - again. It's fun. Admittedly it's not something everyone can do, nor do I recommend to just anyone, but the three of us can do it, and pretty well. Of course, I'm packing two books, iPod, and my ds - I will need some alone time along the way. We're heading there for a wedding. Wishing us pleasant traveling weather. Wishing Dave and Hil a gorgeous day for a wedding on Sunday. Wishing you all a great weekend. See you on the flip side.

200.2

Here it is, finally, the 200th post. I was not entirely sure that I would make it to this point, or that I would care when I did. I did, and I do. When I first thought about writing my own blog, I was intimidated by the whole thing. What would I write about? Who would give a shit if I did write? Would I be able to write? Should I have a theme? Who would find this blog that I didn't want to? Well - let me address each of these. I write about whatever. Whatever comes to mind in a moment, or something that hangs on, churning in my brainz until I let it out. I think some people DO give a shit that I do write. I know I've been given a little grief, or a nudge when I've been negleting VFN, so I guess that means you do care. I am able to write. Sometimes. It's still difficult, but I do still love it, and it's made me practice. VFN has no theme. Yes, admittedly it IS a ranting/humor thing, but overall that's not a theme in my mind. Many people have found this blog. Co-workers, bosses, exs, ex-friends who should just move on as they are no longer welcome....but I blame this on me. Sometimes I'm very excited about what I've written, and I open my big stupid mouth and tell people. I love this process. I love VFN. It's harder than I thought it would be, and I am not as good of a writer as I thought I was. I get a little stressed when I have no topic, as I do aim to provide some entertainment. I had originally intended to write 3 posts a week. Time flies, and I am a busy grrrl, so that does not always happen. I admit it, and am sorry for it. I regret that I feel like I have to filter VFN. I may stop doing that. Of course, I will never divulge where I work or what exactly I do (that would be stupid). What I will do is think less about backlash and write more what I want. This means that very soon you'll be reading a post about the horrible "date" I had this weekend - screw it if he finds it. I'm over it. The upside of this blog is way way bigger than the downside. Every person on my blogroll over there --------> is a great writer, and they inspire me to be better, do more, push harder. These people are also my friends - or that's how I view them. I know that should I have a troll they will handle it. I also know that when bad things happen and I share them that I will get support from them. They take the time to stop by and leave a comment or two. I consider them my people. They make this blog better. They matter to me. Over these 199 (or so) posts I've given a lot of myself. Whenever something awesome - hello Carlos Zambrano! ; or terrible - still missing my little beagle Charlie; or HIlarious - fight on a bus? yep that's me!; I give all of these things to you. It helps me remember them, but I hope it also provides you with a quick read, a break from your day. Thank you to Shannon for asking me to guest-post on her blog, getting me interested. Thank you to TheMarty for encouraging me to comment around the blogosphere, getting my feet wet, and introducing me to many of the people on my blog roll. Thank you to my blogroll - see above - I dig you all the most. Thank you to my friends and family for providing me a LOT of fodder for VFN. I vow to try harder and be better moving forward.

An update

So, I sent the bus fight post to the RedEye - an offshoot of the Chicago Tribune. Guess who's been posted in their blog about public trans? Here's the link - I'm pretty sure it's identical to my post below - I'm just putting it out there. http://www.chicagonow.com/blogs/redeye/2009/08/a-cta-bus-argument-blow-by-blow.html I'm interested to see if anyone leaves any comments. Hey, y'all - I'm in the newspaper! (Ok, KINDA, but whatever) It's still cool I think. The lady that writes the Going Public column and maitains the Going Public blog was pretty awesome - so thanks to her for re-posting my post. p.s. - this does NOT count as post 200 - still working on that. Thought you'd just be interested in the updated.

Big milestone

Soooo My next post will be #2oo. Please let me know what you'd like me to write about. Leave your comments, and may the best suggestion win. That is all - back to your regularly scheduled Monday.

Everybody was kung fu fightin'

I got in a fight today On the bus. Ah, public transportation. So, every day I get on the bus at the train station to get to the new office. There are quite a few people that take the same bus as I do, every day. A few of these people are gigantic assholes. There's really no other way to describe them. Here's what happened: We were sitting on the bus, still at the station, waiting to head out. Another #120 bus comes around from somewhere behind us in the line with maybe 3 people on it and heads out on the route. This dude starts yelling at the bus driver. "Where is that bus going!?! Why are they going first!?!? Why isn't anyone on that bus?!?! What time do you leave?!?!?" Well, this last question got an answer from the bus driver: "Sir, I leave at 7:48." (It was 7:45) This did not calm the dude down. He kept yelling and berating the driver, and making empty threats about his brother, who works for the CTA, and blah blah blah. He had a little peanut gallery, specifically this trashy women who is also another regular on this bus. She starts nodding, and saying stupid things as well. By this time, the bus is packed and we are on our way. Need to mention here that the dude was sitting down ranting and raving. Standing directly in front of him was an elderly woman. Standing.In.Front.Of.Him. Did he offer her his seat? Oh, hell no. Anyway. The bus driver politely tried to explain things to the irate dude, to no avail. The dude kept interrupting with more rant and drivel. At one point, the bus driver said: "Sir. I leave when I am supposed to leave. I don't know what else to tell you..." At which point the pinhead said "I can't hear you. It's like you're not even speaking English." I was sitting nearby, stewing at all of this crap. Finally (you knew it was coming, if you've ever read this blog, even once, you knew it was coming) I got mad. (my comments in bold - as they should be) "Enough. I've had enough. Stop talking." "Um. What?" "Take a cab. Walk. Plan your day better. Leave earlier. I'm tired of you. Stop talking." "What?" "Every day. You do this every day, and I'm tired of it. I'm sick of hearing you." "No one wants to hear your opinion." (this is one of my favorite statements he made) "REALLY!? Because why, then, do I have to hear yours?!?" (Yep, I'm pissed) "Bu bu bu my brother works for the CTA!" "Great. Do us all a favor - ask him to drive you to work." This went on and on for a while. Trashy-lady just sat there tsking and making faces at me. He and I argued until we got to their stop. At one point, after I said "It's not his fault. Leave the driver alone." I heard behind me "Yeah! Leave him alone!" and it wasn't just one person either. So, dude and trashy and a whole bunch of others get ready to get off at their stop. Trashy says: "F&#K you bi&$H!" and practically runs off the bus. Before she can exit the bus, I say: "Really?" I mean - really? I'm firing off valid points left and right without ANY profanity - and this is her witty retort?! Oh, no, she didn't. But she did. She is now invisible to me. I mean, if that's the best she's got, she's no longer on my radar. She's like those puffy white things that dandelions turn into - they're there, and they bother you a little, but you blow on them and they go away. Once the angry mob was off the bus, the woman next to me said "Are they really always like that?" As I'm about to respond, another rider says "Yes. They're really bad. It's annoying." "I'm bad?" I say "No, no. Them. You're right - they do this all the time." "Hey, in this day and age, I think we're all lucky to have jobs, and shouldn't be complaining about how we get there." (I can be calm and sane sometimes) The rest of the ride was uneventful. I stood up the block before my stop and went to the front. I was pretty much the last person on the bus. "Thanks for having my back." said the bus driver. "Oh! Of course! He was wrong, and you don't deserve that." "Well, thanks." The best part of the whole thing? I get to see them again. Tomorrow. And Friday. And Monday. And Tuesday......... (evil laugh, wringing of evil hands.....)

Sorry, not Charlie

VonSis is fostering a dog this week. He is a shepard-mix who is allegedly about two years old. He came to the Commune with the name Fulton's Harley Joe. He now answers to Stormy; we just couldn't handle that awful name. Even calling him Harley wasn't cutting it. Stormy came about when I asked where VonBrotherInLaw is right now. Turns out he's in Houston, so that didn't work. Then I called VonBrotherInLaw the StormChaser, so that's how FosterPup got his temporary moniker. I say temporary because we've decided not to adopt him. There are a few reasons for this, all of which are valid. He's super cute - when he's not peeing in my house, her house, the garage, the basement, etc. We're pretty sure that although he's very young that he already has some sort of hip and/or back problems. Dogs cost money. I have no extra cash these days, none. Certainly not the kind of money it takes to be a pet owner. The biggest reason, I think, is because he's not Charlie. I thought by now I'd be ready for a new dog. I also know that VonSis would rather have a dog than not after the break-in. Still, he's not Charlie, and I'm not ready I guess. But, that being said - I've also tried to keep my distance from him (I type on Tuesday night, while petting Stormy with my left hand while he paces around my house). I know that I'm a sucker for all dogs, and the longer he's here the more attached to him I will get. I know this is not good, as I know in my heart that he is not the dog for us. However, after the decision had been made - two days ago - that he would be leaving after his week of foster care was up, I teared up as I said goodnight to him and went downstairs. He's adorable and some other family will adopt him and love him very much. Another family that isn't us, that isn't thinking about Charlie all the time, and crying still when we do think about him. I think VonSis and I both want that moment when we meet some stray mutt or shepard that makes us instantly say "Awww" while smiling. The dog that'll mak us remember Charlie without getting sad. He's out there - we just need more time I guess. ***writer's note: this is NOT the post I wanted to present today....but we'll talk about that another day. Probably Friday....***

Looking back a few years......

I've been thinking about my senior prom today. It could have been a random thought that leaped into my head for no reason, but I'm pretty sure there's reason. A) I've started hanging out with D&D again aka TheTwins aka my former besties from H.S. (thanks FaceBooooook, for the reconnect!) We've been hanging out a lot, and doing the "remember when" thing. B) I watched "Prom Night", "High School Musical 3", and "Twilight" this weekend (Ok! Ok! You get to temporarily revoke my cool card for this admission!!) So, proms aplenty. My senior prom was AWFUL!!! I wore a white dress. MyGawd - I was that girl who's friends lied to her and told her the dress looked nice so I bought it but I totally looked like the "before" picture in a weight loss add and the dress had that longer-shorter-in-the-front awfulness that made it even more heinous yes I know this is an incredibly long run-on sentence but I had to keep typing this admission lest I delete it and you wouldn't be reading this tasty nugget of my past. Phew! Besides the horrible dress, I had my hair done in a french braid with two horrendous spiral curls (one on each side) and gold jewelry. I do not now nor do I ever remember liking gold jewelry!! I was also not pleased with my date. He was my boyfriend, but he was a freshman and I was a senior, so I knew I had to dump him sometime between prom and graduation. I think it may have been about 48 hours after prom. He was a dork, AND a very sloppy kisser. I also beat up Chris at our after-prom hotel room. Chris is many things to me to this day. She's a) the only roommate I've ever had. We lived together more than two years and only wanted to kill each other once or twice b) one of my very best friends from high school. She was the first girl at my new school sophomore year to talk to me, and we've been friends ever since c) the mother of my nine-year-old goddaughter whom I adore and love as my own So, the fact that I beat Chris up is not only something I can't ever forget but also something she likes to bring up, especially at family parties, or major holidays. The truth of the matter is I didn't beat her up - I merely pushed her out of my way to get into the bedroom and broke the door with her body. Whatever..... Anyway, not my finest moment. Our prom colors senior year were something like blue and silver - LAME. Who matches with that? Who looks good standing next to a big silver wall? Bleh. Our song wasn't even good. I know senior year I was all dark and angsty, and I totally wanted Depeche Mode or Morrissey or Big Head Todd and the Monsters, but NOOOOOO we had to have trite Peter Cetera/Cher song. "After All" I think it was. Really? Because "After All" is a big defining song for 17 year olds and their love lives. Why couldn't my prom have been like any of the movies I watched this weekend? Ok, sure "Prom Night" ended with a lot of dead people, but their prom was AWESOME - with a professional deejay and confetti and all. And sure, "Twilight" had some vampires and werewolves there, but they had really good tunes and a pretty gazebo that was all lit up. Sigh. I guess the grass is always greener on the celluloid side. At least I have my wine-glass favor that is filled with wax to look upon and and remember. Why is the glass filled with wax, you ask? Well, that was the fantastic idea our faculty came up with to try to prevent our drinking a-l-c-o-h-o-l on prom night. Snort. Yeah, that worked.