Relish

Back in action (for a bit)

2009-09-22T23:04:00.004-05:00

Wellllll I’m back. Momentarily, at least. These last 6 weeks have been totally bananas. As in straight up B-A-N-A-N-A-S. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this busy in my entire life, and it doesn’t show signs of stopping (wow, I just quoted a Gwen Stefani song AND a Christmas carol in one paragraph. Nice.)

Here’s a Cliff’s Notes version of what’s been happening in my life since I last wrote. And that includes comments on my pop culture life. Hm, let’s call it Pam’s Notes. Rather fitting, eh?

• I moved home. Weeeeee. So now my cute little 15-minute bus right to work is a crazy, long 2 hour ordeal involving a car, train and a boat—each way. Thank goodness for good books.

• Did I say car? Why, yes I did. I bought a car! For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you already know that. So anyway, I bought a bright, shiny red 2007 Honda CR-V and it’s my new love. His name is Santiago—partly because he’s like a little chili pepper and Santiago is the capital of Chile, and partly because he’s red…like Santa. And I like to call him “Santy” for short.

• I have a ridiculously long lasting case of bronchitis/asthma/plague/black lung. It’s going on about 15 days now, and my cough keeps getting worse. And apparently Z-packs and inhalers can’t do a thing to stop it. So if you’re in Chicago and hear someone coughing a lung out, chances are it’s me. Feel free to say hi!

• Oprah had a block party on Michigan Avenue, directly under my office. That flash mob dance thing was probably the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. And watching it all happen from 33 floors up was even cooler.

• R.I.P. Patrick Swayze. The world is now a little less thrusty. And seriously, who the heck is going to rescue Baby from the corner?! Oh wait, am I mixing fiction and reality again? Yes, I am.

• John Krasinski is engaged. Sigh. There goes my not-so-secret fantasy of being a real life Jim and Pam. Well, he’d have to change his name…but it could have happened, right?

• Jimmy Buffett is my silver fox. Oh man, he is such a stud and I have a crazy big crush on him.

• Glee makes me giddy. I think Wednesday is my new favorite day because it’s Glee Day!

• I’m making a triumphant return to the Northwoods of Wisconsin this weekend and I couldn’t be more excited. Hello Minocqua! J and I are going for Beef-A-Rama, a beef festival. Apparently there will be a parade of meat. It’s going to be awesome.

• At Gap, regular length pants are too long for flats and ankle length pants are just a tiny bit too short. What the heck? I thought 5'5 was a normal height. Guess not.

...and that's all I can think of off the top of my head. I hope to be back on a much more regular basis, but I guess we'll see where life takes me! Have a great night!

Goodbye for just a little while

2009-08-03T22:30:00.002-05:00

Well, it's summer. And as I expected, my life has been changing/moving/morphing at warp speed. So many things are on the horizon right now and it's all just a tiny bit overwhelming.

Yikes. Bikes.

I haven't told you much about everything that is happening, and I still probably won't. Not for awhile at least. Sorry for being all sneaky and secretive. I just want to wait until things are a bit more solid. Unfortunately all the stress/excitement/anxiety I'm feeling has clouded my mind a bit, making it nearly impossible for me to write meaningful posts. Which would explain the lack of them in recent weeks.

All the changes are very, very good, though unfortunately, they're not happening as quickly as I'd hoped. Meaning I've had to change plans a bit. And if you know me at all, you know I do NOT deal well with change.

Did you know I'm moving home at the end of August? Because I am. Yep, I'm packing up my cute little studio in Lakeview and moving back to the suburb I grew up in and back into my parent's house. At first I was a little terrified of admitting to other people—and myself—that I was moving home. Being the approval-oriented girl that I am, I was terrified of what people would think. And what about those kids I grew up with who (gasp) never, ever left the town. What if I run into them again? How embarrassing.

But then I remember that A) I love my parents and we get along fabulously, B) My Dad loves ice cream runs as much as I do, C) I will be close to 4 different big, beautiful, clean, friendly grocery stores, D) Being home means FREE LAUNDRY, E) I'll get to see my dogs every day and F) I might get to finally buy myself a car. EEK!! Exciting! Sure, my morning commute will now consist of a 10-minute drive to the train, an hour and ten minute train ride, and then a 15-minute water taxi ride, but hey, nothing beats free laundry, right?

It will all work out eventually. But I just know when I pack my final box and lock my apartment door for the last time, I'll shed a few tears. Even though I'm still working in the city and will be there every day, my little world is changing. I know it's for the better, but still. I'm going to miss it.

So in conclusion, if my posts are few and far between for a little while, please be patient. Once I'm settled in at home, I'll be back in tip-top shape. But for now, so long. I'll catch you on the flip side.

Milk jug lids and other daily obstacles

2009-07-20T19:32:00.005-05:00

The other morning, while attempting to twist the cap back on my milk for the millionth time (see first bullet), I started wondering why it was just so darn difficult for me. Surely if the milk jug manufacturers keep producing the jugs the same way year after year, they must not be that impossible to figure out.

So then I started thinking about other simple things that I have trouble with. You know, the everyday things that seem impossible to me (and probably only me).

• Screwing the lid back on a milk jug. Seriously, why is it so difficult? Why won't the little nooks and crannies fit together in perfect twisted harmony? I swear, I stand there in the morning trying to screw it back on for a full 4 minutes before I give up and put it back in the fridge—with the lid halfway on. Whoops. Oddly enough, I have the same troubles with peanut butter jars. But only peanut butter jars. It boggles my mind.

• Typing the word "license". And yes, it just took me about 3 tries to get it right there. It's just so darn tricky! And since I'm a copywriter and spend a good chunk of my day proofreading, it's a bit embarrassing. You'd be surprised how many times that word pops up on a daily basis. I guess I'm just sensitive about it. It's like a lisp for my finger. License, license, license!

• Watching a full movie on DVD. If it's on TV, yes, I'll watch the whole thing (commercials and all). But if I own the movie and physically put it in my DVD player to watch, my attention span shoots straight out the window. I either fall asleep, start playing online or leave the room. Kind of strange, really. Apparently turning on a movie turns me off.

• Saying the word "parenthesis". That "h" trips me up every time. I always pronounced it as "pa-renT-uh-sees", and thought it was totally normal. But then my friends caught on and started poking fun at me for skipping the "h", and now I'm all paranoid about how I say it.

• Dealing with people talking on cell phones on the bus. Yep, that's me shooting you evil looks. I have very, very low cell-phone-talker tolerance. Especially if I'm really engrossed in a book and you sit right behind me and proceed to talk loudly in my ear. Hey, lady, that's great you're going to buy a $1,200 bag (what a sin!), but I don't want to hear about it.

• Not saying the word "like". Totally my verbal crutch. I hobble around on that sucker all the time. Pretty much every sentence I say has one of those bad boys thrown in. I, like, really can't help it. And I'm definitely not a Valley Girl.

• Standing up straight. Ugh. I know I slouch, I wish I didn't, but it's just so darn hard to fix. I'll sit/stand up straight for a few minutes, but then I'll forget and BAM! Slouchy McSloucherson returns. I think I'm getting a tiny bit better...eh, maybe not. I'm just more aware of it now.

• Not getting giddy when I hear Irish accents. I can't help it. Whenever I hear my favorite little accent, I get all excited—even when it's a girl. I have to fight the urge to run over and talk to them. I'm pretty sure that would make me a huge creep.

So what about you guys—any easy, everyday things you just can't seem to do? Have any tips on how the heck to screw lids back on or secrets to standing up straight?

Hope you all had wonderful weekends! I know I did—seeing Rascal Flatts at Wrigley Field was a blast!

Summer camp stories: My scandalous little art project

2009-07-16T18:56:00.003-05:00

When I was between the ages of 7 and 9, I went to art camp in my hometown. It was a few weeks every summer and it was held at an old mansion with tons of crazy rooms, hidden closets and coach houses. I absolutely loved it. We got to do tons of fun artsy things like sketching, drawing, tracing, painting, calligraphy, etc. It was perfect for a shy girl like me who had an overactive imagination and a flair for everything colorful.

One day, when I was 8, our counselors took us into the coach house to escape a sudden rainstorm. It was quite clear they had nothing really planned for us, until they stumbled upon a box of random chunks of wood. It wasn't long before they concocted the clever assignment—to make ANYTHING out of the wood. They even offered their glue gun services to help foster our creativity.

Most kids has no clue what to do. Wood was something we had never worked with before so everyone was kind of confused. But me? I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to make.

I quickly searched for two perfect pieces of wood, had the counselors glue them together in just the right spot, painted it with the best shade of purple I could find, and sprinkled it with tiny hot pink painted hearts. When that was done, I dug through the scrap box in the corner, desperately looking for the perfect swatch of red felt and fancy gold beads. After all, I needed to make the perfect curtain. Yes, curtain. To me, this wasn't just a silly project; this was art.

When I was all finished, I proudly ran to my counselors show off my exquisite masterpiece:

A kissing booth.

My counselors (probably 17 or 18 at the time) took one look at it and burst out laughing. At first I laughed with them. Surely, my brilliant work of art brought about such happiness. But then they asked me to explain it to them. They wanted to know why I created a kissing booth.

Well I just thought it was such a romantic idea. People could go sit on the purple bench, behind the red beaded curtain, and kiss in private. It was so obvious to me, and it was such a lovely thought in my little head.

Needless to say, the counselors couldn't get enough of it. They marched me all across the camp, showing off my kissing booth to every other counselor. It was met with laughter every single time. I was thrilled because I thought it was just that great. Clearly I didn't understand the fact that it was quite funny for a shy 8-year-old to create a snazzy little kissing booth and not get what was so funny. At that age, I didn't even know there was more than kissing. Geesh.

I came across the kissing booth not too long ago and it made me laugh out loud. It was pretty darn scandalous. I still wonder where the heck I came up with the kissing booth idea...I mean, I was pretty sheltered. I wasn't even allowed to watch R-rated movies until I was 16!

I just want my damn pretzels.

2009-07-13T21:27:00.003-05:00

As most of you know, I just got back from a trip to Florida and for some reason I got really annoyed by the whole flying thing this time. No wait, more like I got really annoyed with American Airlines. It started with the bag fee and only got more frustrating from there. (Warning: I'm unnecessarily fired up about this, so watch out.)

First of all, I had to pay $15 to check my bag. Annoying. I'm sorry, but aren't I doing you a favor by helping you add weight to the plane? I'm sorry that I a) can't pack for a week long vacation in a teeny tiny suitcase and b) have suntan lotion bottles that don't fit the 3 oz. limit. I NEED my SPF and I like my large liquids, thank you very much. So frustrating. Call me crazy, but I'd rather that fee be tacked on to my ticket price then have to pay it when I check in. That way, it's like an invisible fee. Maybe I know about it, but I just don't see it. Like Santa. And I sure as hell don't have to whip out my credit card to deal with it in a crowded airport.

So then after that, I finally got on the plane and was ready to relax. But wait—did you know that American Airlines gives you a full can of Coke (I refuse to use the words pop or soda)? I don't want a full can. I like just a little cup of it, enough to wet my whistle while I'm flying high in the sky. See, when you have a drink, that means you have to have your little tray table down so your drink can sit nicely in its shallow little nook. But that means your legs can't be crossed, you can't access the seat pocket in front of you, and your mobility practically disappears. In other words, you're stuck.

With a cup of ginger ale (my usual drink of choice), it's already challenging enough to finish it before my body cramps up. But then when you add in the flight attendants who come around with the darn garbage bag right after you get your drink, it gets way too stressful. You don't want to be the jerk who throws half of a drink away, creating an inevitably leaky garbage bag. And you also don't want to be stuck with a sticky cup of ice for ages and ages, with nowhere to put it except the tray table. And then you're still stuck in your seat. And that's the worst.

So last week when they gave me the full can of ginger ale, I went into a frenzy. I found myself chugging it like I was in some kind of drinking contest. I was unhappily knocking back the ginger ale like there was no tomorrow, a little ticked off that I had to do "work" on the start of my vacation.

And then I found out that there were no complimentary snacks on the flight. I'm sorry, but I live for that tiny bag of pretzels. I need it to get me through. Don't they know that I have the munchies ALL the time? What airline doesn't even serve that weird ranch "party mix"? You know the one, it has a weird zesty flavor and is something you would never normally eat, but you do anyway because you're on a plane and that's all you have. Ugh.

Oh wait, I get it. The full can of ginger ale was suppose to make up for the fact that we didn't get a snack, right? Because you can totally replace salty snacks with sugary beverages.

THAT IS RIDICULOUS.

I was outraged. I just sat there in my window seat going on and on about how I'd much rather sacrifice the full can for a nice little snack. By the end, I was ready to launch a crusade (spirited songs were definitely involved) and I had pretty much mentally drafted an angry letter to the airline. (J pretended to be asleep through all of it.)

I long for the days of Delta. Back when I flew to Aruba, they gave out not one, but TWO of those yummy ginger cookie packets AND the flight attendant mixed me a delicious beverage in a cup—Fresca with a splash of Cran-apple juice. It was a life-changing experience. And I got to relive it on all 4 flights involved. Amazing.

I'm heading out to Boston and the Cape in about 2 weeks (whoa, that's soon!) and I'm flying United. Oh boy, I don't think that's any better than American. At least this time I know to pack some pretzels. Hmph.

Sidenote: I just informed J I was writing a post about this. His response? "You're still all fired up about this? That was almost two weeks ago. Get over it." Yes. I. Am.

Ok, done ranting. Happy flying, everyone.

Tales from the happiest place on Earth

2009-07-10T20:25:00.014-05:00

I'm back! After an action-packed trip to Disney World, I've been tossed back into the real world and it's been a bit of a difficult adjustment. I had such an amazing time! From wonderful meals at world-class restaurants (California Grill) and tasty breakfasts on Main Street USA to lounging by the Grand Floridian pool and getting a pedicure at the spa, it was a fabulous trip. J's family was a blast and I loved that I got to spend almost an entire week with J, since that never happens anymore with the whole long distance thing.

And yes, I was there for the tragic monorail accident. It was so sad and pretty eerie because we had no idea anything happened until late the next afternoon. We knew the monorail was down, but no one know why. It wasn't until we were getting pedicures that the girls told us...but only after we pried. We were told that Disney didn't want any sadness at the happiest place on earth.

We were on the purple train only a couple hours before the accident, and I remember seeing the driver (who was later killed) and thinking how young he looked. It was so sad. But it was very interesting to see how quickly Disney mobilized and managed to get buses and extra hands to keep things running smoothly. And the day after the crash, they had to leave the two trains at the station because of the investigation—but a wall "magically" appeared around the site of impact so no one would see it. Definitely eerie.

But on a happier note, I really did have a super duper time and I think it can best be summed up in a list. So I now present to you what I learned on this trip to Disney World:

• Strollers can be used as weapons. And the same can be said for motorized scooters. One of the funniest moments of the trip was when a large man on a scooter ran over the foot of an older woman. They started screaming at each other in the middle of the Magic Kingdom. She wasn't hurt, and it was absolutely hysterical.

• Mickey ice cream bars are pretty much the best things ever.

• California Grill at the top of the Contemporary Resort is phenomenal. Delicious food, fantastic service, and so romantic. We got a table right in front of the windows overlooking Magic Kingdom, just in time for the fireworks. It was amazing.

• It's impossible to walk from the Magic Kingdom to the Grand Floridian, despite their close proximity. Trust me. After a couple drinks and a bottle of wine, J and I thought we could...and proceeded to follow an insanely long path to nowhere. We did get to see some deer frolicking in the trees. That's exciting, right?

• I am convinced Blizzard Beach and the corresponding Winter Summerland mini-golf course were made with me in mind. It's all tropical and Christmas-y AND they play Christmas music and Jimmy Buffett all the time. It's like my own personal dream world.

• Stilt walkers can kind of be creepy.

• Most little girls look adorable in princess makeup and princess dresses. But some poor little girls get the makeup artist and hair stylist that make them look like a hooker-in-training.

• You can see the same fireworks every night for a week and still be completely amazed by them. (Wishes!)

• Speaking of which, the Disney World 4th of July fireworks are by far the most amazing ones I've ever seen.

• I think I like the Hall of Presidents a little too much.

• Water rides are fun. Except when you get sopping wet and have to walk around Animal Kingdom like that the rest of the day.

• The French girls working in France at Epcot are not very nice. I'm sorry, but if you sign up to work at Disney World, you should A) learn how to smile, and B) not look at us like every American is such an idiot.

• The revamped Spaceship Earth at Epcot is awesome.

• I can't get enough of Splash Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Haunted Mansion, Tower of Terror and Rockin' Rollercoaster.

• For some reason, the Peter Pan ride always has a ridiculously long wait, even at midnight. Go figure. I never did get to go on it...

• I know that Disneyland is Sleeping Beauty's place and Disney World is all about Cinderella, but they rarely even acknowledge Princess Aurora at Disney World. Kind of bummer since she's my favorite...I just hope she gets lots of love in CA.

• Minnie is a pretty cool mouse. However, I think it's time she got a new "To Do" list for the day in her house. It currently has 3 mentions of calling Mickey, one about making him dinner and another one about baking him a cake, and absolutely no mention of having a job or doing anything for herself. Basically her day revolves around her beau, Mickey. Is that what we really want to teach little girls? Sidenote: Mickey's house has a bed, Minnie's does not. Guess we know where she's shackin' it up.

• I never get tired of hearing the Spectromagic Parade theme song.

• I love Disney World. A lot.

Me and J at Magic Kingdom

Mini palm tree!

Crazy storm over Epcot

We travel in style

I love Tower of Terror

Happy people

A giraffe and flamingos hanging out at the Animal Kingdom

Loving (and feeling) the pineapple drinks at Ohana

The gorgeous Grand Floridian

The beach

Ok, I'll admit it. It's good to be back...sort of. But it's definitely good to be back in the blogging world! Hope you all had a wonderful holiday. Have a great weekend!

Getting goofy in Disney World

2009-07-01T23:50:00.004-05:00

I had a fun little Disney World send-off post planned in my head, and I couldn't wait to write it. But then life stepped in and I had a million little things to deal with tonight. And right now, it's midnight and I have barely started packing, haven't done my dishes yet and haven't cleaned my apartment yet. Argh. So really, I don't even have time to write this post, but I couldn't leave you hanging all week, wondering where in the world I am.

Soon I need to head to bed and gear up for a whirlwind tour of Disney World. Because that's exactly what it will be—a whirlwind. As I mentioned before, I'm going with J and his parents. And they LOVE Disney World. It's so fun going with them because they love hitting up everything, even Blizzard Beach water park, which is pretty much my favorite thing ever. It's funny because J and his mom aren't too keen about crazy water-slides, but his dad and I love them. So we like to run around hitting up the big slides, while they relax in the lazy river.

And this trip I'm extra excited because we're staying at the Grand Floridian, which is absolutely gorgeous. Plus, that means I get to ride the monorail everywhere, which the 4-year-old inside me gets ridiculously giddy about.

I can't wait to get there and ride Splash Mountain, Tower of Terror, Expedition Everest and Rockin' Rollercoaster. Unfortunately, Space Mountain is closed for renovations. Bummer. But on the plus side, this weekend is President Obama's big debut as an official member of the Hall of Presidents in the Magic Kingdom. Is it weird that I'm kind of excited to see it? Perhaps, but oh well. I'm not ashamed.

So anyway, now that I've rambled on and on, it's time for me to head out. I'll be sure to post fun stories, awkward moments and plenty o' pictures when I get back. In the mean time, I hope you all have a wonderful weekend and a very Happy Fourth of July! Yay America!

I heart awkward moments

2009-06-30T23:20:00.001-05:00

Last weekend was a total blast. I was here, there and everywhere from Chicago to Milwaukee, and back again. It was tons of fun, nice and relaxing, and chock full of awkward moments, which always make for great stories.

Moment 1: Friday night I was out in the suburbs with my parents for my uncle's concert. A little back story: My uncle is a friar and also a bit of a musical genius. He can play tons of instruments (harp is his favorite) and he composes absolutely beautiful music. (Oddly enough, NO ONE else in my family got his talents. Total bummer.)

So we were at his concert in the theater of a nearby university, and I was standing with my parents waiting to be seated, when the usher came over to us. She was an older lady and leaned over me to get a closer look at my Mom's ticket. Suddenly, I felt her hand take a swipe at my bum. Not just an accidental graze—it was an intentional feel.

I was a teeny bit creeped out, but decided to ignore it.

At intermission, I walked out to the lobby and realized the same usher was staring at me. Our eyes met and she immediately walked right over to me.

"May I rub your dress?" she asked, smiling up at me.

Uh. What?

Before I could respond, she reached down and forcibly petted—no wait, more like rubbed—my thigh.

"Oh wow! That's real madras! All those squares are actually sewn together!" she exclaimed out loud.

Of course, I blushed and nodded and my Mom, who caught the rub down, laughed awkwardly and steered me away from her. Yikes. Who knew madras could get such a rise out of old people? Guess I better rethink my plans to wear my madras dress any time soon.

Moment 2: Saturday night I drove up to Milwaukee to pick up J at the airport. He was coming back from a school trip to Germany, which involved him taking a handful of 15-year-olds to mix, mingle and learn history with German students of the same age. It was a very cool opportunity.

I was so excited to pick him up, so I thought I'd get there early and run in to meet him at the terminal. Unfortunately, I was running a little late and he was running a little early. I pretty much threw my Mom's car (I don't have one. Sad.) into the parking garage and ran into the airport.

So I practically skipped in, not really looking where I'm going, and found myself smack dab in the middle of a HUGE celebration for World War II vets who went to D.C. for the first time. I had no clue what was going on—I just saw hundreds and hundreds of people dressed head to toe in red, white and blue, waving American flags like their lives depended on it. And there I was, running through the crowd in my bright purple dress, not even realizing there's an intense display of patriotism going on around me. I obliviously marched right down the ceremonial walkway the families had created, still not noticing what I was doing. And when I finally realized where I was, it was a bit too late. I felt very, very purple, very naive and very anti-American. I almost wanted to scream out "I'm Canadian!" or something. It was super awkward. And the glares I got from people? YIKES. I felt like I should grovel at the feet of a bald eagle to make it up to them.

Moment 3: I had a good time at a wake. Er, wait, that sounds bad. More like I didn't have a bad time at a wake. And it made me feel really inappropriate. Long story short, my old grade school music teacher/musical theater director passed away last week. She was a lovely woman, so lively and full of positive energy. Everyone absolutely loved her.

On Sunday, I went to the wake with my Mom. Right off the bat, she ran into her old students, including the daughters of the woman whose wake it was. So it was fun to see how they all interacted after more than 30 years, and it made me see a whole new side of my Mom.

And then we spotted the husband of one of the daughters. He's an actor who played a pretty important role (the groom) in a certain 90s movie I LOVE about a reluctant father getting ready for his daughter's wedding. He looked exactly the same as he did back then and it made me all giddy. And then I felt weird for feeling giddy and it was vicious cycle in my head the whole time. But anyway, it really was a lovely wake...and very touching, too.

Sidenote: I seriously need to stop listening to "Will You Be There" by Michael Jackson, from the Free Willy soundtrack. It used to be my FAVORITE song when I was 7, and now it's hitting me all over again. And I keep waiting for a whale to jump over my head or something.

Moonwalkin' outta here

2009-06-25T22:28:00.011-05:00

I'm gearing up for a super crazy, high energy, hella hectic week. Because in exactly one week, I'll be jetting off to Disney World with J and his parents!

His parents took us there in 2007 for our graduation. It took me about 10 minutes to convince him this would be a cute picture. He was right—it's not. But it does make me laugh.

I'm so excited to go. I've always loved Disney World. But what's even better is how much J and his parents love it. They're so much fun to go with because they love to do everything. And I mean everything. Last time we hit up 4 parks in one day (even though we were there for almost a week). Yes, it is possible. And the best part is that this year, we're staying at the Grand Floridian. That in itself has me giddy with excitement. Throw in Splash Mountain, a little Rockin' Rollercoaster and some Goofy love, and it's perfection (well...minus the screaming kids and blazing heat).

Before I even think about packing, I have a TON to do. I've got a portfolio to whip up, a wake to attend, a boyfriend to pick up from Germany (ha, sounds so sketchy), a huge classical concert to go to, a brother and sister to say goodbye to (they're going to Africa), a volleyball game to play, tons of work to finish, dinner with friends, laundry, a million errands to run etc, etc. The list goes on and on.

It's always so hectic before vacation, isn't it? It's like the universe really makes you work for those days off. But it's definitely worth it. I can't even wait...

And in other news, well really the only news, what a sad day in the world of entertainment. First Farrah and now Michael Jackson? Yikes. And let's not forget about Ed McMahon earlier in the week. Bad things really do come in 3s! I feel like I jinxed it a bit. Just this morning, my coworker and I were discussing Farrah's death and I wondered out loud who would be next because of the rule of 3s. Whoops.

I'm not going to lie, I've been sitting here all night watching MJ videos on YouTube. I just can't get enough of "Black and White" and "Will You Be There". Even though he was a tad creepy in recent years, he was an amazing performer and he will surely be missed.

And in other not-so-pressing news, did anyone see Shia LaBeouf on The Today Show? He was so sweet with one of his fans. It's so cute! He looks into her eyes and even just watching it makes my heart melt a little bit.

Just call me Cookie Monster

2009-06-23T21:34:00.000-05:00

That's me, only not just about cookies.

I have a dear friend who sometimes forgets to eat. She seriously just straight up forgets. And she's not the only friend I have that does that, which completely boggles my mind. Don't they get low on energy? Aren't they dragging? Aren't their stomachs growling loudly?

Much like my dear friend Cookies Monster, I practically plan my days around eating. In the morning, I have a nice complete breakfast (it's silly and unhealthy to skip it!), then I pack a mid-morning snack (always fruit), a lunch (most of the time) and a mid-afternoon snack (usually a Kashi granola bar). I can honestly say, I have NEVER forgotten to eat. My stomach would be roaring if I let it go too long, anyway. It's very vocal like that.

I love my meals, and I'm all about snacking. Even when I'm not eating, I'm counting down to the next snack or meal. Who knows, maybe I have some odd oral fixation (wow, that doesn't sound good), because I always love to chew gum or have hard candy between meals, too. Maybe it stems back to all those years I used to suck my fingers as a kid...

And when I don't eat? Not a pretty sight. I become a snarling, raging, crabby, angry grump monster who snaps at anyone and everyone, and practically swats planes out of the sky. So I try not to let that happen. It's not like I need huge meals. All it has to be is a bowl of cereal or a granola bar and I perk up like a daisy in the sunlight. Happy and snappy with a nice full tummy.

So moral of the story, if you ever see me being crabby, throw me a piece of gum or a cookie or something.

Wow, I guess I'm like a dog—I respond well to treats. That's a bit sad...

And now I want a cookie.

This indecisiveness is killing me.

2009-06-21T22:22:00.003-05:00

So, it's time to get personal. And a little serious. Because if I don't address what's bugging me, I might snap a little bit.

Lately, I've been completely incapable of making a decision. And I mean any decision. From choosing an outfit for work to what drink I want at Starbucks, everything has been an impossible choice. I can barely stick to blogging topics anymore, hence the lack of posting. I couldn't even choose the place for my family birthday dinner last week. And last night, the thought of choosing which bar to go with my friends nearly made me skip out on the whole night. At the sound of "It's up to you", I completely panicked. My heart started thumping, I began to sweat and I just kept saying, " I don't care, I don't care, " which was a lie.

I don't know what is wrong with me. I've always been indecisive about little stuff, but this is getting out of control. Lately, when I'm faced with a decision, it's like my mind shuts down. I get defensive, grumpy and really panicky. And I get really anxious and terrified that if I make the wrong choice, someone will get mad or be unhappy with me. It's like I've laid out a path of eggshells all around me, and I'm scared to make even one small move.

I know I'm feeling this way because I've got big, big changes on the horizon and I feel like my life is spinning out of my control. I'm really, really excited about the future, but I'm scared to death to put myself out there. And therefore, I feel like I have no right to make any choices, even if it's only about what food to eat. Time is flying by and I feel like I'm desperately clinging to anything I can to keep up. It's really starting to weigh on me. I've been sick, I'm not sleeping well, I'm not eating well and my emotions have been on an insane roller coaster ride. One minute I'm in a funk, wondering why everyone hates me, and the next I'm giddy as a school girl.

Ugh, what the heck is up with me? I don't get why I'm feeling so....lost. And out of control. Even now, I'm sitting here wondering if I should even post this or not. My mind just changed itself about 7 times in the last minute. This is ridiculous.

Anyway, on a happier note, I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend and had a chance to get out and enjoy the gorgeous weather (well, here in Chicago at least). I know I did...and I have the lovely splotchy sunburn to prove it.

Two dozen years old today

2009-06-16T00:06:00.002-05:00

It's my birthday! Hooray!

If you can't tell, that's me with the pigtails. This was taken right around my 4th birthday.

Twenty-four years ago today I came bouncing into this world. It was Father's Day (awww) and I arrived just in time for lunch, much to my Mom's delight. Apparently, she was really hungry.

But surprise! I was supposed to be a boy. So when I arrived and my parents realized the name Michael wouldn't really fly for me, they were stumped. The girl names my parents did have—Emily and Marie—just didn't fit. And so for a few hours, I was just known as Peanut. How my parents decided on Pamela, I'm not quite sure. And once my sister stopped pouting because she didn't like the name (she had a "mean" babysitter named Pam), it stuck. And the rest is history.

So here I am. 24. Ah! How did I get to be 24? That seems kind of old to me. 23 was just kind of silly...but 24 means responsibility. And being grown up. Yikes. There are 24 hours in a day. And 24 years in my life. Not sure where I'm going with that, but whoa.

Today is only the second birthday EVER that I haven't gotten to play all day. The last two years I took the day off. And before that, I was always on summer break...except the one summer I was working in a bank vault. Eek. This year, I chose to save my days for real vacation. I guess we'll see if I regret it...

But on the plus side, I'm using this opportunity to finally live out one of my childhood fantasies: To bring in treats on my birthday. I've never, ever been able to do it, so I'm really pumped. I made Rice Krispie treats and I couldn't be more excited about them.

The rest of the day should be good, too. I bought myself a special breakfast of blueberry Eggo waffles (love them!), my coworkers are taking me to an Irish pub for lunch (yum!) and then my family is taking me out to dinner (still not sure where). Sounds like a perfect day to me (minus the whole working thing).

I'd like to give a shout out to my fellow June 16th birthday buddies: Tupac (RIP), Ben Kweller, Diana DeGarmo and Ann Shoket (of magazine and ANTM fame). Ok yeah, I definitely had to do some digging to find any names I actually recognized.

Oh and fun fact: I can sing "Happy Birthday" in Swedish. Guess that's what happens when you have a super Swedish first grade teacher. I have no idea how to spell it, but you can bet it's playing on repeat in my head right now.

Back in action and feeling good

2009-06-14T21:00:00.001-05:00

If you follow me on Twitter, you know I was sick last week. Really sick. I hadn't been sick in ages, but lately I've just been really feeling rundown due to lack of sleep and an all-Cheerios diet (yeah, I know, not healthy).

I don't really know what I had. It started with a headache that lasted three days. When it finally went away, I developed this weird cough. A few hours later, I was hit by the fever train. I had the aches, the chills, the loss of appetite—everything. Last Tuesday I woke up and I felt AWFUL, but I somehow managed to drag myself to work, trying hard to keep myself propped up on the bus. I was at work a total of 25 minutes before I asked my boss to go home. Then I went home, slept and watched daytime TV (I love reruns of The O.C.).

I managed to get back to work on Wednesday, but I should have stayed home. All I could do was sit slumped over at my desk and will myself not to pass out. I finally felt better by Friday, but still had no appetite. And thankfully by now, I'm almost as good as new, minus my pretty gross chest cough.

Luckily, I pulled myself from my sick bed just in time to head up to Wisconsin for the weekend. I hit up Milwaukee on Friday night and was greeted by J and the sweetest/cleverest/most thoughtful birthday gifts ever.

Oh yeah, did I mention Tuesday is my birthday? Because it is! I LOVE my birthday. Well, I love birthdays in general, so naturally mine falls under that category.

Anyway, more on that tomorrow.

So then early Saturday morning, J and I got up and drove to the high school where he teaches. He had to attend graduation so he dropped me off at a nearby Starbucks for a couple hours. That way, I didn't look like the random creepy girl sitting alone at a high school graduation.

When it was over, J took me to Madison to continue the birthday festivities. I had only been there once when I was 9, so I didn't remember much. Which is a shame...I love it there! We just meandered all over town, making quick stops for ice cream (of course), drinks and a quick moment at the lake. It was so relaxing and it was the perfect escape we both needed. After taking a quick nap back at the hotel (I still wasn't feeling 100%), we went out for some margaritas and dinner. It was perfect.

And now I'm back in Chicago, in my very messy apartment, getting excited for the week ahead. I was sad to say goodbye to J today, but I'm also so excited for him. He's jetting off to Germany this week with some of his students as part of a high school exchange program. He'll only be gone 10 days, but I know he's going to have an amazing time. I only wish they needed an extra chaperone. I would have volunteered in an instant.

I hope you all had wonderful weekends! Anyone do anything fun? Gosh, it's good to be back in the blogging world. I missed it last week!

A cautionary tale of identity crisis (x3)

2009-06-08T18:57:00.009-05:00

Normally I'm quite the perky, happy, "I love everything!" blogger. But tonight I might have to be a bit more serious. (gasp)

You see, after spending 45 minutes on the phone with an IRS agent today and finding out that once again my tax refund is being withheld due to identity theft, I'm a bit irate. Last year was literal hell on my credit and identity, and I'm not happy at all to see that I have to deal with it again this year. Apparently I have so many red flags in my file that I will probably be dealing with this for years and years to come. AWESOME.

This post is not intended to get sympathy or anything of the sort. I'm hoping it will just kind of show you how important it is to take care of your credit. You have to keep an eye on it at all times because you never know who can get their hands on it. I never, ever thought anything would happen to me, but I was wrong (dun dun dun)

December 1, 2007. The day my troubles began. I was at a bar watching the Marquette vs.Madison basketball game at a bar here in Chicago, when my phone rang. It wasn't a number I recognized, so I let it go to voicemail and then walked outside to check it right away. I had an inkling something was wrong and boy, was I right. It was my credit card company letting me know there had been suspicious activity on my card.

I quickly called back and the customer service rep asked me to verify charges—almost $900 at a cell phone store in Montreal. I practically screamed, "What?! That's not mine!" into the phone, in a very panicky, high-pitched voice.

Turns out someone got my credit card number and was using it to their heart's content up in Canada. It was an awful feeling. I had to cancel my credit card, file a police report, report identity theft, etc. It took months to figure out and get everything back on track. What a pain. And just when I finally had the charges cleared and got my new card...

March 2008. One day when my brother, sister and I were home, my Dad mentioned that our family accountant had filed all our tax returns. Except mine. There was a "glitch" when he tried to submit it electronically, so he had to mail it in.

The glitch? Someone had already filed taxes under my social security number.

The accountant swore it wasn't a big deal. He said someone must have mistyped their own social security number, and that it would all get figured out. Right.

April rolled around and my brother and sister got their nice little tax refunds. Me? Not so much. Then it was May...then June...then July. Finally our accountant had an update: I was being investigated. I was given about 10 different numbers to call, affidavits to sign, more police reports to file and various people to check up with. It was a disaster. I sat on the phone for hours almost every day for weeks trying to figure it all out. I went through so many automated systems, I was ready to flip.

Long story short, I didn't get my tax refund until late October, when they finally realized I was the REAL Pam. Turns out, someone was pretending to be me. Sounds cool...or not. But it all worked out and I was happy, until...

November 22, 2009. After watching the holiday lighting on Michigan Avenue, my friends and I went to a nearby bar in the Loop. I was sitting at a high top table, with my purse hanging next to me, against my arm and under my coat. We were enjoying our drinks when all of a sudden the waiting area (right by my seat) got really crowded. My chair got bumped a few times and then I felt a sharp tug on my purse. I immediately knew something was wrong.

Sure enough, I opened my purse and my wallet wasn't there. My debit card, my credit card, my drivers license—everything—was gone. Luckily, the manager of the bar (a very nice Irish man), let me use his computer to cancel everything immediately. And thank God he did, because I later found out that only minutes after I cancelled my cards, there were failed purchases totaling $900 at Target, numerous ATM attempts, charges at gas stations, etc. The list went on and on. I have never felt so violated in my entire life, but I was so lucky I caught it quickly.

And now I'm dealing with the IRS for the second year in a row. They even called my CFO at work to check up on me and confirm my identity. I suppose I'm glad, but really? It's me. I wouldn't ever touch a fly, let alone commit tax fraud. And now all this checking up makes me feel like a criminal...

So please be careful. Trust me, you never, ever want to deal with this. It's completely unnerving and so unnecessarily stressful. Check your credit reports (listen to those lame commercials and visit freecreditreport.com), keep your personal info safe and NEVER say your credit card numbers out loud in public places—especially if you're on a very crowded city bus (I've heard it more than once, which is absolutely ridiculous).

In the immortal words of Charlie Brown, "Good grief."

Creepy guy in a bar

2009-06-07T01:22:00.005-05:00

I just got home from a night out celebrating my brother's birthday and despite the fact that I am exhausted and a wee bit tipsy, I felt the need to post. I'm that creeped out.

You know the standard creepy guy in a bar? You have to—everyone does. There's always one at every bar you go to, no matter where you are. They're never there with anyone else, and they always stare a bit too long, let their eyes travel a bit too far and look a bit too content.

As soon as I saw Creepy Fonzie (his nickname for the evening), I know he was the creepy guy in the bar:

Obviously, it's the guy in the white t-shirt. I snapped this really quickly, before he saw me.

This guy randomly snuck into our group—my brother, sister, cousins and friends—to order a drink. Initially, we thought he was with the group next to us. But when he kept sneaking in and lingering a bit too long, we knew he was a creep.

And for some reason, he kept focusing on me. I wouldn't even look at him, but I could sense that his gaze was on me. Like he was staring at me, urging me to look at him. Everyone else in the group noticed. My brother's friend and I even came up with the code word "burrito" to yell so I would know when he came up close behind me...because he kept doing it.

They all thought he looked like a slicked back, older Fonzie. But that's not who he really looked like. In my opinion, he looked EXACTLY like the bad guy from Kindergarten Cop:

So finally my cousins and brother made enough rude comments in his vicinity for him to the the hint. We watched as he slowly walked away, then made a big circle around the bar, weaving in and out of all the girls. He seemed to stop on the other side of the bar, and I finally felt at ease.

And then, not 5 minutes later, I felt a hard squeeze on my shoulder. I whipped around quickly and saw him. He smiled, slowly dragged his nails across my back, and walked away without looking back.

I literally felt a shiver run up and down my spine. I felt so violated and so creeped out. And when I left the bar, I practically ran home in case he was following me.

And now I'm writing this, wondering what happened to him. I hope he goes back to his home, which is far, far, far, far away from me. Ick. So weird.

My Life's Little To Do List

2009-06-03T23:00:00.003-05:00

In my one of my previous posts, I mentioned one of my "secret dreams"—to take a trip to the Ben & Jerry's Factory in Vermont. It's something totally random that I've always wanted to do. And recently, I've started filing away little "secret dreams" or "to do once-isms" in my mind. They're just little things I'd like to experience once in my life, no matter how small or silly they are.

Perhaps some would refer to it as a Bucket List, but I think that's pretty darn morbid. So I'll just call it My Life's Little To Do List. This list doesn't include all my crazy travel dreams to go to Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, China, South Africa, Italy, Greece, Spain, back to Ireland, etc or my dream of writing some sassy chick lit one day. And it definitely doesn't touch on getting married, having kids, getting a dog or owning a lake house (hey, I dream big). Those are part of My Life's Big To Do List.

This list is all about the everyday trips I want to take or little things I want to see or do in order to experience new things, whether it's tapping into musical talent or not stressing over laundry for the first time ever. Please note: These are definitely not in any special order, other than the way they came spouting out of my head.

1. Visit the Ben & Jerry's Factory

2. Go on a "bar crawl" around all the countries at Epcot

3. Learn to play the violin

4. Ride in a hot air balloon

5. Be an extra in a movie

6. Be able to do a handstand

7. Go sky diving

8. See a grand slam while in attendance at a Cubs game

9. Visit/tour a vineyard

10. Go to Cedar Point

11. Learn to like exercising (ha)

12. Be a bridesmaid (yes, that's right, a bridesmaid)

13. Live in an apartment with in-unit washer and dryer

14. Meet Jimmy Fallon

15. Find a bar in the U.S. with a name as cool as Boo Radley's

16. See a live taping of talk show/sitcom/late night show (I'm looking at you, Fallon)

17. Visit the West Coast (San Diego, LA, Portland, Seattle...)

18. Finally finish a scrapbook

19. Get my tonsils out (bizarre, yes, but these monstrosities need to get out NOW)

20. Learn a ballroom dance

21. Go to and/or volunteer at the Olympics (Woo, Chicago 2016!)

22. Find out where in the world Carmen San Diego is

23. See the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in person

24. Go to a state fair

25. Learn a second language

26. Go to In-N-Out Burger

27. Find a real sand dollar

28. Teach myself to like peppers and tomatoes

29. See Monsters, Inc. so a certain friend doesn't kick me to the curb

30. Learn to go to bed at a decent hour

Yikes, I guess I have a lot to do. And these are only the things I can think of off the top of my head. I better get started now...too bad I already missed out on number 30 for tonight.

What about you guys...do you have a "to do" list for life? If so, what's on it? Or maybe I'm the only one that keeps a running tally in my head. Hey, sometimes you get bored on the bus and have too much time to think.

Tales from the pissed off +1

2009-06-01T19:43:00.007-05:00

Ok, my writer's block is officially dissolved because now I'm a wee bit ticked off. And when my feathers are ruffled, I like to rant.

So where should I begin? Hm, I think I'll start at the very beginning (it's a very good place to start). I'm going to have to use fake names to protect the innocent. Sort of.

In college, J (my boyfriend) was good friends with a guy, let's call him Ron. So J and Ron had a lot of classes together and used to hang out all the time. Then Ron met a girl, we'll call her Beth, and he was one smitten kitten. He fell head over heels, only none of Ron's friends liked Beth. During senior year, he started spending all his time with her, ignoring J and his other friends. And not long after he graduated, he proposed.

Ron and I always got along well. J didn't like Beth very much, but I tried to be nice. I was excited for them when they got engaged, plus I was pumped for the wedding. We were all friends, so I knew it would be fun.

Though J and Ron have grown apart, we still hang out occasionally. And the last two times have been WEIRD. He's barely acknowledges me. The last time we hung out, he introduced his other friends to everyone but J and I. He hugged everyone but J and I. And besides a "hi", I got nothing. When we had to talk, he was very short with me. I had always thought we got along well, but he was acting as if I had done something to personally offend him, and to be honest, I was a little hurt.

And then the Save the Dates were sent out. J didn't get one, but his parents did. And it was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. J, J and his dog. Yes, his family DOG. WTF. J was really offended at not getting one personally (I don't blame him) and I was offended that his dog was included, but not me. At that point J and I had been dating 3 years. I mean, really? What the hell?

So a bit of time went by, and I forgot about it. Until today. J just got his invitation to the wedding in the mail. And it was addressed to Mr. J...and guest. Are you kidding me? Maybe I'm nuts, but I'm really offended. It's not like I'm a stranger. I know both the bride and the groom. Ron knows we're a serious couple, so why wouldn't he include me? I mean, seriously, J was invited to his coworkers' wedding and though I've only met them a couple times, they addressed their invitation to both of us. Hmph.

I feel like I somehow pissed Ron off. At least, that's how he's acting. But for the life of me, I can't figure out what I would have done. And he's being really weird to J now, too. It's completely bizarre.

Perhaps I'm a little crazy, but for some reason this really, really gets under my skin. It's not like we can go to the wedding anyway because J will be back in Massachusetts for his dad's birthday. But maybe I will go...and bring his dog. I'd be proud to be a weiner dog's +1.

And in other news, I seriously need to stop watching the New Moon trailer. Why am I so addicted? I just can't seem to get enough.

Big fat writer's block and my teeny bopper junk drawer

2009-05-31T22:17:00.010-05:00

So I've been suffering from a ginormous case of writer's block over the last few days and it's not a lot of fun, let me tell you. I have about 5 different starts to posts from last week that just kind of fizzled out. (sigh) I promise to be better soon.

Anyway, I had a great weekend. I got to sleep in for the first time in months, went to Target, had a blast out on the town last night (which I definitely paid for this morning) and got some much needed relaxation time. And today I finally got the peanut butter chip ice cream I've been craving for weeks when I met up with Jessica from The Everyday Adventures of Me in the City. It was a ton of fun. It's so nice to meet someone who enjoys a good ice cream run as much as I do.

In order to catch up on some of my random thoughts, I've decided to collect them into another one of my junk drawers. I'm calling this one my "teeny bopper junk drawer" because I'm still a little giddy after seeing the New Moon trailer and so my mind is in an "OMG!" kind of place.

• Could Kristen Stewart be any more awkward? My God, she made it seem like the biggest pain to be at the MTV Movie Awards. Sure, it's not the Oscars, but at least pretend to be appreciative. But she definitely got brownie points when she dropped her award and said, "Yep, I'm just about as awkward as you thought I'd be," or something like that. I'm glad she realizes how she comes across.

• I swooned at the trailer for New Moon. Why is Edward so attractive? I guess Robert Pattinson is, too...but still. Real life Rob is an odd duck.

• Loved the clip from the new Harry Potter. I can't wait to see it in July. Nerd alert: I might even go to the midnight showing because I'm that excited. Did I say might? I mean I definitely will. I did it for the last 5, so why stop now?

• Pixar's new movie "Up" is amazing. I laughed, I cried (no, more like sobbed) and then laughed some more. It not only made me appreciate the adventure in every day, but also really made me want a talking dog. It could happen. If you haven't seen it, go!

• I made pasta for dinner tonight and the directions on the back ever-so-kindly said, "Please do not overcook." I find it refreshing that the pasta company cares so much about my dining experience that they nicely tell me not to overcook the noodles. I couldn't let the packaging down, so I sat and watched those darn things cook so they came out just right.

• I feel like everyone is getting engaged lately. Yikes. Do I feel pressure? Perhaps. Does that excite me? Yes. But then again, I'm only 23 (almost 24!). I guess I better live in the same city as J before we discuss wedding bells. It sure is fun to think about though...

• My laptop gets hot. Really, really hot. As in, it literally almost burns my legs. Hm. What would cause that? It can't be good.

Ok I'm off to bed to dream about hot vampires and ice cream and pleasant things like that. And seriously, if I don't get this darn computer off my legs in about 2 seconds, it's going to burn a hole through my pants. Happy almost June, everyone! (Woohoo, birthday month!)

My junk drawer (and an award!)

2009-05-26T21:27:00.006-05:00

I'm really random, I'll be the first to admit it. At any given moment, my mind is jumbled with a million different thoughts about a million different things. Some make sense, but most are completely out of the blue, which can be a problem when it comes to talking with friends, telling a story or writing a post.

So I've decided to start a feature on my blog called "My Junk Drawer." Why the name? Well, because junk drawers are filled with random odds and ends, crumbly bits, hot pink Post-Its (or maybe that's just me?), misplaced birthday candles, capless pens and a dirty old rubber band or two. Who doesn't love a junk drawer? You just never know what treasures you may find. And just like the contents of a good junk drawer, this feature is going to be completely random. Much like the thoughts fluttering about in my brain all the time.

So off we go:

• At a fabulous Memorial Day mimosa brunch, WG2 found the way to my boyfriend's heart. Apparently, all it takes to win him over is baked French toast. (Note to self: Learn to make baked French toast. OR hire WG2 to be personal Sunday morning chef.)

• If you go to a Northwoods-themed bar that has posters plastered on EVERY wall advertising the special Leinenkugel's drink of the month, you would expect the bartender to know what it is. Apparently not. He claimed not to know what a "Honey Bear" was, even though there was a sign with the "recipe" right above his head. When I told him what was in it, he said they were out of Berry Weiss, one of the two ingredients in the drink. Hm. Maybe they should take the posters down so as not to frustrate overly excited girls who fell in love with Leinenkugel's concoctions while living in Wisconsin.

• I have way, way, way too many friends/siblings/boyfriends (well, only one of those) that are teachers. I'm so glad you only have 4/7/13/9.75 days of school left, but seriously, for the kids like me who are stuck in a 9-5 job, wilting away in a tiny cubicle, ignorance is bliss. My "school year" never ends. But if you'd like to hear how I have to account for every 15 minutes of my work day, I'd be happy to tell you all about it. It's riveting stuff.

• The season premiere of Jon and Kate + 8 was devastating. I definitely shed a tear or two. I know people have some strong opinions about the whole situation, but I don't know what to think. I literally felt like I was losing a friend when I watched last night. Yes, Kate is not very nice, especially to Jon, but I still like her. And when she started crying while talking about the future of her marriage, my heart broke for her. Though I think they are both very much share the blame, I think Jon seems to be going through some kind of midlife crisis (did you see his car? yikes). I don't know. This whole time I had been hoping that all the tabloids were lying and when the show came back, they'd be one little happy family again. Jon would get a new job, Kate would stay home more and the kids would be cute as ever. But last night it became very apparent just how bad it all is. Those poor kids...they are seriously adorable. Aaden and Alexis might be my favorite kids ever. I feel so sad for them.

• My phone doesn't work in my apartment when it's windy or raining. What a wuss.

• One of my "secret dreams" (I have a lot of them) is to take a trip to the Ben & Jerry's factory in Vermont. Ice cream is pretty much my favorite food.

• Doing laundry is one of the most stressful things ever. Especially if it involves using washers/dryers from 1978 in the dark and creepy basement of your building. It seriously looks like the set of a horror movie and smells like a skunk (shudder). But it sure feels good when you get it all done...and come out alive.

• And last but certainly not least, I was recently given The Splash Award by the fabulous Ali from The Way I See It (thank you!) It's given to alluring, amusing, bewitching, impressive and inspiring blogs. When you receive this award, you must:

-Put the logo on your blog/post.
-Nominate up to 9 blogs which allure, amuse, bewitch, impress or inspire you.
-Be sure to link to your nominees within your post. Let them know that they have been splashed by commenting on their blog. Remember to link to the person from whom you received your Splash Award.

-So I nominate:

The Everyday Adventures of Me in the City

And Her Heart It is in Ireland

Zenfully Me

RachieAnn.com

Working Girl

Gorgeous Footsteps in the Sand

So there you go, I'm spreading the blogging love. Hope you all have a great night!

It's a small world after all

2009-05-21T23:01:00.004-05:00

I almost didn't write tonight. Almost. Because I'm exhausted, had a grueling day at work and just had a fabulous evening filled with great people, great causes and great wine.

But I feel the need to point something out And that would be just how gosh darn small our world is.

For example (hopefully you can follow me on this one): Vacay Boy (see last post) is engaged to Girl 1. Girl 1 is best friends with Girl 2. Girl 2 not only went to college with me, but was also my sorority sister AND ran for president of student government. And who was her campaign manager? Why, that would be J, of course. And they were pretty good friends, too. Isn't that odd? It's like it all came full circle...

And then there was tonight. Not only did I run into a guy I knew from college, I also ran into a guy that sat at my table at a destination wedding I went to last year.

But neither of those compared to when my friend introduced me to a girl she knew from college (in the bathroom, of course, we keep it classy.) She immediately looked familiar to me, but I kind of brushed it aside.

A little while later, we ran into her again and I suddenly knew exactly how I knew her:

Her: Pam, do you remember Kate O?

Me: Oh my gosh yeah, we were friends in grade school.

Her: You want to Camp Ondessonk right?

Me: Yes! I knew you looked familiar! This is crazy! (pause) God, I hated that camp.

Her: Yeah, you were miserable. We all knew it.

Me: (a little uncomfortably) Yeah, sorry about that. Remember when we had to crawl on our stomachs through the mud in that claustrophobic cave?

Her: Oh yeah, definitely.

She then quickly flashed me her phone, said she had to take a call and left. Not sure if the phone call was legit, but still. How bizarre is that? I went to camp with her in 5th grade. She was a friend of my friend from St. Louis and we had only ever been together that one week at Camp Ondessonk.

I was a bit embarrassed that after all these years she still remembered how much I hated camp, but I couldn't help it. It was my first time away from home and on the very first night, I found a 5-inch long cave cricket on the "roof" of my bottom bunk, which I discovered only after his long antennas brushed against my forehead. It didn't help at all that the next day we were taken on a "nature" walk and had to slide on our stomachs through mud and squeeze through a horrendously narrow passage nicknamed "Augustine's Agony"...after a cow that got stuck between the rocks and died. Throw in the 1 latrine for 60 girls and the 3-walled treehouses we slept in and you have my personal hell.

Plus, all of our treehouses were named after Beatles' albums, which I didnt know at the time. So when I first saw that I'd be living in the "Magical Mystery Tour" for a week, I was really creeped out. Thank goodness I wasn't in Revolver or Sgt. Pepper (they were our next door neighbors).

Wow, now that I've revisited that experience, I have a lot more to say on the matter. And on summer camps on general, but I'll save that for another day. I went to another camp a few years later and absolutely loved it. I think it was just that camp I wasn't a big fan of.

But anyway, how random to run into that girl after such a long time. It must have been almost 13 years! And we both recognized each other. Very strange.

Ok, I'm off to bed. Sorry I've been a tad negligent lately. I can't even being to tell you how busy I've been....yikes. I should finally have some free time soon, though. Yay!

Whoa. This news makes me feel funny.

2009-05-18T23:31:00.007-05:00

This is a short one. It has to be...it's late, I've been out playing pub trivia all night and to be honest, I'm freaking out a little bit.

Remember that story about my vacation movie moment? The one where Vacay Boy sang me my favorite song in the talent show? Yeah, that one.

Some of you asked what happened to him. I didn't 'fess up to it because it's very anti-climactic. We had our little fling until I left for Ireland at the end of August. We kept in touch until New Year's Eve, when I was between my Irish boy and J. We made plans to get together, but somehow they fell through, I was a little ticked off and that was that. We talked once in awhile after that...but it wasn't the same. I started dating J, he started dating a new girl. End of story.

And now, literally 3 minutes ago, I logged on to Facebook and saw that he is engaged. ENGAGED. Oh.My.Gosh. My jaw literally just dropped to the floor.

Now I feel all weird. Is it because at one point in time I was so smitten with him? Is it because he's been dating his girlfriend (now fiancee) for a shorter time than I've been dating J? Is it because some part of me is still hanging on to that amazing vacation moment? I guess he's my first "ex" (but I wouldn't recall him that...more like ex-crush) that is engaged? Maybe...

And while I'm really happy for him, I just feel funny. I don't know what it is, but I felt the need to blog about it. It can be so therapeutic sometimes. Yikes.

Chaperoning makes it okay to be a creep

2009-05-17T13:33:00.008-05:00

Last night at prom, I felt like I was smack dab in the middle of an MTV show. It was a little bit of Made, a whole lot of High School Stories and definitely a touch of True Life: I Live for Prom. The night was surprisingly drama-free—only one girl cried (boyfriend troubles, naturally), one couple got caught making out in the curtains, and there was an incident when a boy was spending way too much hanging out in the bathroom. Sketchy.

My night started with the following exchange:

HS Principal: You Catholic, Pam?

Me: Yeah.

HS Principal: Good. You're going to need to go to confession after seeing these kids dance.

And for some odd reason, that got me really excited. Is that wrong? A comment like that meant there would be great stories to tell, and I was not disappointed.

The Attire—I've never seen so much orange in my entire life. Orange dresses, orange skin (Everyone was tan...totally normal for Wisconsin in May. Ha.), orange vests and orange bow-ties. I didn't know tangerine was the color of the season until last night, but now I'm very aware. Throw in all the bright yellow, hot pink, vivid purple and neon blue dresses and you've got yourself a party. I only saw one black dress and 3, yes 3, wedding dresses. A white ball gown? Might as well start playing "Here Comes the Bride". I'd say about 95% of the dresses were exactly like this:

Most of them were more than a little scandalous. Everywhere I looked there was cleavage. Yikes. Very, very different from my own prom experience 6 years ago. We were all about A-line and princess dresses. Luckily, most of the girls could totally pull it off...until they started pulling up the bottoms and tying them up to their thighs with rubber-bands. Oh dear. For a girl who grew up in a very sheltered environment, I felt like I needed to cover my eyes at times.

The guys seemed to be loving white tuxes, which I found interesting. There must have been at least 30 guys rockin' the all white ensemble, with vests and bow-ties to match their dates' dresses. So the guys were running around in pink, purple, green, orange, yellow and turquoise vests, looking like they came straight from their shifts working at Disney World. I kept trying to find the little Mickey Mouse lanyards around their necks.

The Music—Apparently, it "sucked". Why? I have no clue. I didn't think it was so bad. I was totally grooving to the beat on the "sidelines". There were a few too many of those "is it a slow dance or fast dance" songs. And at one point they played K-Ci and JoJo's "All My Life" which made me and J laugh out loud. I used to love that song in 7th grade. But it's definitely not cool in 2009.

At one point one of J's students came over to complain about the music and I tried to help:

HS Girl: Ugh. This music seriously sucks.

Me: Really? Why?

HS Girl: We can't dance to this. It's all jumping. I don't want to jump. I want hip-hop.

Me: Is there a specific song you would want? Maybe you could request it.

HS Girl: (blank stare) No. This music sucks.

Me: Oh, ok then.

But then again, this very drugged-out kid ran over and starting yelling, "I almost puked 3 times because I was dancing so hard! I love this music!" So apparently at least one kid liked it.

The Dancing—Ohhh my goodness. I didn't realize that being a chaperone required you to literally stand/sit on the side of the dance floor and watch the kids up close. I felt like a super creep as I watched all the guys grind up on the girls. So awkward. When watching it from behind, it seriously looked like the guys are doing a series of very off-rhythm squats. Almost like a drunken ballet dancer doing a plie while trying to cop a feel. The best part was when the kids discovered the mirror behind the djs and started watching themselves dance. J and I couldn't stop laughing.

The kids went nuts when the djs played "Get Buck in Here", apparently a "good" song. Being the old lady I am, I didn't know it, but it's probably one of the dirtiest songs I've ever heard. So naturally, the kids loved it. I've never seen so many thrusts, hip sways and off-beat hip shakes in my entire life.

I had a total blast at prom. It was so fun to see everyone all dressed up and so excited. The kids were great. I especially loved when J's students came over to meet me. They all shook my hand and said they'd heard so much about me. A few guys even asked if I was, "the famous Pam". It was so cute. And it was so fun to see J in a school setting with his students, who so clearly look up to him.

As soon as prom was over and the kids were out of the ballroom (but not even on the buses yet), J, me and few other chaperones went straight to the bars. We proceeded to gush about the night and drink delicious martinis until bar close. It was a total blast. And while we were out, I was determined to run into Jimmy Fallon (love him) who was in Milwaukee last night. But after the most amazing flirtini ever, I forgot all about my mission. Whoops.

Oh and sorry, I didn't take any pictures. I'm pretty sure I would have been arrested if I whipped out my camera to snap a pic. It was creepy enough sitting there close and watching them dance. But I wore the black dress and it worked out perfectly. Thanks again everyone!. Woo. Prom 2009!

Whoever said orange was the new pink was seriously disturbed

2009-05-15T21:03:00.008-05:00

I love Legally Blonde. Always have, always will. And while I know it's not quite the deepest of movies, I don't care. It's one of my favorite feel-good things to watch. My Mom and I are always quoting it to each other randomly, like "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't shoot their husbands. They just don't!" and "I'm takin' the dog, dumbass!"

So when I found out a couple years ago that Legally Blonde the Musical was coming out, I was thrilled. Though I never got to see it on Broadway, I was hooked to last summer's MTV Show "The Search for the Next Elle Woods" to replace Laura Bell Bundy. Now that was definitely quality TV.

And then I learned that they were putting together a national tour and some of my favorites from the show (Rhiannon and Lauren) were in it. I watched the tour schedule for months, hoping they'd come to Chicago. Good news! They were coming here for 3 1/2 weeks. As soon as dates were announced, I made it my goal to get tickets.

So after months of waiting, Legally Blonde finally set up shop in Chicago and I went to see it last night. I LOVED it. It's pink, sparkly, hilarious, cute, energetic and romantic. What's not to love? And when you throw in the sexy UPS guy and two adorable dogs, you've got perfection. Plus, some of the lyrics are hysterical, like:

Gay or European?
So stylish and relaxed.
Is he gay or European?
I think his chest is waxed.

Probably one of the funniest songs ever. Plus, there is a whole song about Ireland. I'm really not sure where the heck the Ireland spin came from, but I don't mind. A musical with lots of pink, catchy songs and Irish love? It's my heaven.

Wow. I am such a girl.

But anyway, if you're in Chicago or on one of the tour stops, go see it!

In other news, prom is tomorrow. I just got a call from J, who is out with his fellow teachers drinking the night away, and he informed me that I get to set up the women's bathroom at the hotel. Translation: I have to arrange a huge box of tampons in a "pretty" way for the girls. A pretty way? Really? I think I love this job already.

Also, I was recently given a very exciting award from Ali at The Way I See It. Thank you so much! I promise to write more about it and spread the love when I have more than 2 minutes to write. These last couple weeks have been insane!

Ok off to paint my tootsies hot pink. Have a wonderful weekend!

P.S. Any thoughts on the Grey's finale last night? Oh.My.Gosh. I was SHOCKED. I literally sat here with my mouth hanging open for about 5 minutes. So sad.

Staying classy

2009-05-13T23:35:00.002-05:00

Thanks for all the input, everyone! I really appreciate it. And of course, the winner is definitely the black dress. I was hoping you all would choose that one! I'll try to sneak a prom pic of me and J to show you the final ensemble. I hope we can get one in front of an awesome balloon arch or something.

I'm getting kind of excited for prom. But honestly, it's going to be really weird to be at a nice event and not be able to drink. For the last 5+ years, I've been able to have a glass of wine, beer, etc (though not always legally) to loosen up and kick up my heels and dance. I kind of associate dressing up with drinking. Not heavily, of course, but still. I like to feel classy with high heels and a glass of wine. I guess they just go together in my head—which became apparent to me when I asked J if there would be an open bar. Whoops.

Ok, this is going to be a short post. I had my fiction writing class tonight and then had to race home through the crazy thunderstorms to watch the finale of America's Next Top Model. Tomorrow night is going to be nuts. I'm going to see Legally Blonde the Musical (SO EXCITED!) and then I have to come home and watch the season finales of The Office and Grey's Anatomy. Normally I wouldn't stay up so late to watch TV, but I just know someone will totally spoil the endings for me on Friday if I don't watch them. And that would be heartbreaking.

I better make sure I have a fresh box of Kleenex handy for Grey's. If it's anything like last week, I'll probably be crying myself to sleep.

Help me pick my "prom dress"!

2009-05-11T22:10:00.007-05:00

As many of you already know, this coming weekend I'm chaperoning prom. Well technically, I'm not the chaperon, I'm just the date. My boyfriend's the one in charge—I just get to watch the high school kids dance (in a non-creepy way) and wonder if I was ever that awkward/skanky/funny/trendy/dorky/young.

Now I know the kids really won't care what the heck I'm wearing, but J keeps telling me how all the kids judge him and his clothes on a daily basis. And I know when I was in high school, my friends and I used to rate our hot chemistry teacher's clothes (he was so dreamy). So I don't want to look like some could-pass-for-middle-age, frumpily-dressed chaperon—I want to look cute.

I didn't know what the heck to wear. J asked fellow teachers and was told I could wear anything from black pants and a sweater to wedding attire. My choice? A dress...because I love them.

Now normally I would try on a bunch of dresses and ask my roommate for an opinion, but my current roommate—a teeny tiny zinia plant—doesn't have a lot to say on the matter. So being the approval-oriented girl that I am, I thought I'd ask you all for fashion advice. Do you mind? I hope not!

Here are my two dress options:

Dress #1

You can't tell, but it has a satin ribbon around the waist and it covered in large black polka dots. This is what I originally planned on, but I didn't know if the strapless was a bit too "scandalous". Also, when I tried this on in the store, a girl asked me if I was going to the turnabout dance at the local high school....how embarrassing. But I loved the dress anyway and had to have it.

Dress #2

This one is a little summery and a bit more casual. It's a lightweight cotton (definitely a sun dress) and could probably be dressed up with the right accessories. I'm worried it might be a bit too short with heels, but I love the print.

So what do you think? Any suggestions would be a huge help!

Once I tally up the votes, I'll move on to accessories. Now those will be a challenge. Shoes? Jewery? Cardigan? (I'm always cold). YIKES. I freeze up when it comes to the extra things. It's hard enough to pick out the dress.

Thanks for your help!

Real life movie moments

2009-05-07T23:16:00.004-05:00

Last Monday, my friend WG2 and I were recapping our weekends on Gchat, as we do every Monday morning. She asked what my boyfriend and I did in Milwaukee and I gave her a rundown, including our Saturday morning trip to the airport.

You see, ever since we started dating, J and I have loved to go to the Milwaukee airport to watch planes. It's our time to relax together. And I love it because he knows a ton about planes, so he can always tell me what type each one is, when they were made, etc. Usually we get breakfast and sit there watching the runway and trying to guess where the planes are headed. It's our little Saturday morning routine.

So I was describing this to WG2 and she said it sounded like something straight out of a romantic comedy. I suppose I could see it, it's something quirky that we bond over and enjoy together.

It got me thinking about other times in my life when I've had a "movie moment." A time, a place, an event—anything—which struck me as a scene straight out of a movie. So dramatic or emotional or sweet that it seemed as if someone thoughtfully wrote it down on paper, and I was simply acting it out.

I'm lucky enough to have a few, mostly jumping straight out of the chick flick genre. The one that sticks out in my mind most took place almost 3 years ago, during my annual family vacation at a resort in Rhinelander, WI.

The same people went back to the same resort year after year, so we all became close. And as luck would have it, I was the only girl my age amid a sea of cute guys. There was one in particular I had a huge crush on and as we had met up a few times during that summer prior to vacation, I knew that was the year we'd have our fling. I couldn't have been more excited.

So vacation rolled around and we spent most of the week together. We square danced, we kissed, we snuck into the kitchen, we had a bonfire—we had a blast. One night, as always, there was a talent show at our resort (sort of like Dirty Dancing, only on a smaller scale). He was all excited to perform in it and had been practicing a song on his guitar for the big show. He told me he was going to play "The Scientist" and as a huge Coldplay fan, I was excited to hear it.

On the night of the talent show, I took my seat in the audience, next to my cousins and my sister. After a few rather lame acts, my guy was called up to perform. He sat down in his chair, looked right at me and smiled, and then began to play.

My jaw dropped in shock as I heard the first few notes. He wasn't playing "The Scientist." He was playing "Green Eyes", one of my very favorite songs. I had mentioned it to him ages before, during a whole conversation about there not being enough songs for girls with green eyes (like me).

As he started to sing, chills ran up my spine and all time seemed to freeze. There were tons of other people in the room, but it was as if he was only singing to me. My sister squeezed my arm and my cousins poked me, knowing that the performance was for me. I was literally swooning in my seat. My heart was fluttering, my cheeks were blazing red and I hung on ever word he sang. At the time, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.

So that was one of my movie moments. How about you guys? Ever had a heart-stopping, earth-shattering, OMG moment that seemed like it was straight out of a movie?

Animated characters get me all hot and bothered

2009-05-06T23:24:00.009-05:00

It's time I spiced this blog up a bit.

Recently, a friend and I discussed which Disney character we found most attractive, AKA who we would say yes to if they propositioned us (ooooh so spicy).

My answer? I'm all about Prince Eric. I'd go under the sea with him any day of the week.

Oh God, I just blushed.

Who would you pick? Do you want to make a man out of the guy from Mulan? Have a thing for passed out princesses like Sleeping Beauty? Ready to explore a whole new world with Aladdin? You know you've thought of this before, so 'fess up.

I'm a musical head case

2009-05-04T22:13:00.006-05:00

I almost always have a song stuck in my head. I can't help it—it's like my mind can't deal with silence or something. Or else it just likes to keep me entertained all the time, which I definitely appreciate.

But the strangest part is that I never get current songs in my head...they're always songs from my childhood. Really, really random songs I haven't actually heard in years.

A few weeks ago, I couldn't get "Rhythym is a Dancer" out of my head. Two days later, "Don't Turn Around" by Ace of Base kept popping up. Every time I went to concentrate on my work, I started humming it. I haven't heard that song since about 1993, but apparently it made quite an an impression on me. Another favorite seems to be "Another Night" by Real McCoy. What a great song. It makes me want to tease my bangs, throw on shredded jeans and grungy flannel and dance...or not.

But oddly enough, the songs that really stick out in my head are cartoon themes from when I was little. I'll randomly start singing the Tale Spin them (Friends for life through thick and thing with another tale to spin!) and then suddenly launch in to Duck Tales (Life is like a hurricane, here in Duckburg...) and Rescue Rangers (Sometimes, some crimes go slippin' through the cracks...). Those three shows must have been in an afternoon lineup together because they are permanently linked together in my mind. I also think Darkwing Duck and Gargoyles were there somewhere, too, but I didn't watch those. They were boys' shows.

And often times, my mind reverts back to the days when I was obsessed with pink and purple (guess not much has changed) and refused to wear anything but "pretty dresses". Those are the days I'm all about My Little Pony (Something is starting right now, something is starting, oh wow!) Boy, did I love those cute, colorful little ponies...

But there is one theme that gets stuck in my head more than any other. The one I still know every word to, even after all these years:

Yep, Gummi Bears. I don't know why it has such staying power since it wasn't really one of my favorite shows, but it's always there. One moment of silence and BAM! Gummi Bears are bouncing here and there and everywhere right through my head. I really do wonder what is in Gummi Berry juice. Lots of sugar? Flubber? Alcohol? Red Bull? I guess we'll never know. And I love how the song mentions, "They take pride in knowing they'll fight for what's right in whatever they do." What a nice little not-so-secret message to teach kids. I know I sure took it to heart.

Shoot. Now it's stuck in my head again. Oh well. I can't say I mind it...I could think of worse songs, like "Rhythm is a Dancer".

And dear readers, please always remember, when you need help just call Ch-Ch-Ch-Chip and Dale—Rescue Rangers!

I hate poopin' pigeons

2009-05-03T20:55:00.005-05:00

A bird pooped on me today.

Ew.

But it wasn't just any bird...it was a big, fat bacteria-infested city pigeon.

Double ew.

In an attempt to describe my hatred for surprise spills/messes made on or around me, I wanted to reference back to a post I wrote earlier about a pregnant woman throwing up on me on a plane a few years ago. I could have sworn such a post existed, but I can't find it anywhere. It's a good/disgusting/overly-dramatic story, so I hope I can find it. Otherwise, I'll just have to retell it one of these days.

So after spending a wonderful derby-filled, mini-golftastic weekend visiting my boyfriend in Milwaukee and a lovely day with him and my parents at the Chicago Botanic Gardens, I hopped on the Metra and headed to the city.

Once I got downtown, I opted to take the L (or is it El? I should know this...) back to my apartment. Unfortunately, that involved walking down a street that doubles as a pigeon hotspot. They are always hanging out in the gutters, curbs, sidewalks, overhangs, steps, etc taking up space and pooping up a storm. I practically tip-toed through it because my biggest fear is having those damn birds get spooked and fly up in my face. (shudder)

So I made it safely to the covered stairs that took me to the train. But as I approached the stairs, I noticed an extremely fat pigeon sitting backward on the ledge over the entrance of the stairs. His dirty, feathery little bum stuck out, just waiting for someone to walk by.

I knew he would poop on me, but I heard the train coming and decided to risk it. I held my breath (not sure why) and ran to the stairs.

Immediately, I felt something hot and wet plop onto my right cheek. Sick.

I swore loudly and as I kept walking up the stairs, I wiped it off my face. It smelled AWFUL. When I got on the train, I finally assessed the damage. It had landed on my face, on my jacket, on my springy scarf and all over my new purse. Ew, ew, ew.

I thought I wiped it all off, but when I got home, I realized that I had a huge brown splotch streaked across my cheek. GROSS. I gagged a little bit.

So I heard getting pooped on is a sign of good luck. Any truth to that? I've never had it happen before, but it's a nice thought to have. It kind of takes away the grossness of the actual poop. And I can definitely say that when I came home, I was able to run downstairs and throw 3 loads of laundry in at one time, which NEVER happens. It was pretty amazing because laundry usually causes me hours of stress. Was it good luck? Sure, I'll call it that.

I also just found a long lost memory card from when I first got my digital camera. It has hilarious pictures from my first week in Ireland that I forgot I had. Aww, such good memories.

Ok, off to unpack and put away laundry. Hope you all had wonderful bird poop-free weekends!

The Toasty Posty

2009-05-01T13:22:00.003-05:00

That's the ingenious title I came up with while WG2 and I chatted it up over a couple beers at the Cubs game last night. Our conversation had nothing to do with blogging, but I suddenly blurted out my urge to write a post. About what? I don't know. But I sure liked the title.

So I got home after the game, ran up to my apartment and flipped open my computer to write. About what? I still didn't know.

But alas, my internet was not working. Again. And no matter how many times I plugged and unplugged the ethernet cord, it just wasn't mean to be. (sigh)

So I gave up and packed for my trip to Milwaukee this weekend instead. I'm headed up after work to see my boyfriend. And this trip should be very interesting because as of 11am today, his school closed due to swine flu. Apparently 3 of the students might have it, so they closed the school for a week. A week! Can you believe it? All over the flu? Ridiculous.

Apparently he's not allowed to be in public now in case he's been exposed. Please. I'm still going up and we're still going to carry on our weekend like we normally would. I think this swine flu is out of control. It's just the flu, right? Yes, a mutated form of it, but still. All this hype is making people nutty.

And if I do end up getting the swine flu, then so be it. At least me and the people in my office will get a few days off, right?

Have a great weekend everyone!

Google's creepiness makes me laugh

2009-04-28T21:38:00.004-05:00

I love Google. And I especially love his cute little kids Gmail and Gchat. I think they're pretty much the bees knees. How else would I get through the long days at work? They're just so much fun to play with.

But my love comes with an acceptance of the darker side of Google. Do you ever notice the sponsored links in the Gmail window? They always correspond exactly to the specific subjects of your emails. And I have to admit, I find that a little bit creepy. It's like some little Google man is watching you on your computer to see exactly what you type, and then throws some links in there that relate to your topic. Weird.

Though some of the links kind of pertain to the email, some of them are just downright random. And hilarious.

In an email chain with my boyfriend asking what I should wear to chaperone his high school prom, (Oh wait, that sounded bad. He's a teacher there and I'm his date. I'm not a cougar, no worries. He is legal, I am legal, we're all good.) the sponsored links include Pretty Dress with Sleeves and Ghetto Prom Dresses. So if I want to dress like J.Lo in the 80s, I know where to go. Thank God.

In an email informing me of a comment on my last post "Will Walk for Cupcakes", one of the links was for Chocolate Whoopie Pies. Yum. For some reason it reminds me of old people hooking up and that just isn't a pleasant thought.

An email from a friend asking for my t-shirt size came with a link for an I am McLovin T-Shirt. Sweet.

Another link in an email from my boyfriend suggested I find out Why Is My Baby Crying? The email said "Good morning" and asked how my day was going...and it was a good day. Random.

And though some links are funny, some are little disturbing, too.

In an email from my mom asking me about my plans, I got a nice little link to Jump Into the Spirit World. No thanks.

In the same prom email with J, I got a link for Human Interaction Design. Doesn't that remind you of a geeky kid who needs to find a date to prom and instead of asking a real girl, he creates a female robot to bring with him? Yeah, I watched too much TV as a kid.

Another email notifying me of a comment on my last post had a link for Quality Walk-In Ovens. A walk-in oven? Really? That sounds horrifying. Why would someone need to walk into an oven?

And finally, in an email from Facebook letting me know I had been tagged in a photo, Google suggested I look at a Female Anatomy Photo. Great. Google thinks I'm a pervert. I'll pass, thanks.

So thank you Google for keeping me entertained...and constantly wondering where the little man is who's watching me type.

Will walk for cupcakes

2009-04-27T18:38:00.016-05:00

Oh cupcake, how I love thee. You're so sweet and delicious, I could

just eat you up.

Last Saturday after walking/dodging raindrops at the American Brain Tumor Association 5k with my friends, we went on a mini cupcake crawl around Chicago. We overeagerly planned to walk to our destinations...all 5 of them. Unfortunately, none of us took into account how much our legs/ankles/hip flexors (in my case) would HATE us for all the walking we did (guess we forgot about that 5k earlier in the day). By the time we got to our third stop, we were literally crawling.

But despite the minor pain and cramping, the cupcakes were AMAZING. And I think the only way to describe my euphoric frosting-topped tour would be through photos. Yikes, I might start drooling a little...

Sidenote: I am going to try my hardest to describe these cupcakes without using my least favorite words (moist, creamy, gooey). Unfortunately, those words often apply in this case.

Stop 1: Swirlz

A delicious peanut butter crunch cupcake. Yes, the photo is a little off, but I was just so darn excited to eat it, I couldn't waste time with my silly camera. It was SO good. The perfect blend of chocolatey cake and peanut butter frosting. It tasted like a giant Reese's Peanut Butter Cup...only better.

So excited to eat cupcakes. This was the exact moment I wished I could pull a Zack Morris and call a time out to freeze the scene. I would have jumped over the counter and stuffed as many of those cupcakes into my bag as I could. Sometimes I really wish TV "special" effects applied to real life. (Please excuse the hair...it was raining and gross that day)

Stop 2: Sweet Mandy B's

The sun made a brief appearance when we got here. It was a sign that we were about to experience a little piece of cupcake heaven.

A hastily taken photo of the display case. I got one of those white ones—the Snickerdoodle cupcake. The frosting was a bit too...creamy (ugh, I had to say it) for me, but I loved the cake part of it. It was the pinnacle of cinammony deliciousness.

Stop 3: Molly's Cupcakes

Best. thing. ever. I love sprinkles. I think they present a great philosophy for life: Sometimes all you need is a little color to make life sweeter.

A glamour shot of my mixed berry cupcake. I think I fell in love with it a little bit before I ate it. It was filled with blueberry and raspberry compote and was topped with blueberry frosting. It was amazing. The frosting was so light and whippy (yes, that's a word) and it complemented the cake perfectly.

From there, we were supposed to go to Southport Grocery and Dinkel's, but we were all way too tired. Plus, we were all spiraling into sugar-induced comas at that point. But it was so worth it. My favorite? Probably Molly's. But Swirlz was a very, very close second. And so was Sweet Mandy B's. I loved them all.

Before we went home, we made a quick stop at Pocket Puppies, a pet store that specializes in teeny tiny dogs. The dogs were adorable, yet freakishly tiny. I was afraid I was going to break them.

Cutest. dog. ever. This was a 9-week-old Yorkie. Normally I'm not a fan of pet store puppies (the thought of puppy mills makes me so sad), but we couldn't resist holding some of these little guys. They were so cute. I hope they all get good, loving homes soon.

So then I went home and passed out. I literally took a 3 hour nap, woke up and got ready to go out, found out my plans were cancelled due to exhaustion, and went back to bed. All that walking and sugar killed me a little bit. But I loved every sugar-coated second of it.

Hmm...now I want a cupcake.

Why yes, I was named after Pamela Anderson. How did you ever guess?

2009-04-23T23:00:00.006-05:00

In case you just started reading my blog or learned to read recently or something, please allow me to introduce myself:

Hi! My name is Pam. Nice to meet you.

Ok, technically my name is Pamela. Pamela Lynn actually if you want to throw in my middle name. My Mom thought it sounded musical...I think it sounds like a stellar hooker name.

No one has ever really called me Pamela. Maybe my parents once in awhile, but I've always been Pam. This guy I very, very briefly dated in college decided he wanted to only call me Pamela. But the way he said it seemed so condescending or something. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it bugged the heck out of me.

This guy at a bar last week told me I should go my Pamela instead of Pam. He said Pam was the ugly name for an ugly girl. What an ass. The sad thing is, I've gotten that a few times. Not exactly in those terms, but one guy in a business meeting told me his daughter Pamela HATED the name Pam because it wasn't pretty. Gee, thanks a lot. Psssh, I love my name, thankyouverymuch.

Yet I find that most people usually have something to say about my name. When I introduce myself (especially in social settings), one of three comments inevitably follows:

Question 1: Oh, like Pamela Anderson?

Answer in my head: Yes, JUST like that. My parents foresaw the success of Baywatch before it was created and wanted to name me after a skankalicious, big-boobed blonde with questionable morals before she was even a "star". Really, how did you guess? It was supposed to be our little family secret...

Real answer: Uh, no. Not at all. Haven't heard that one before.

Question 2: Is your real name Pamela?

Answer in my head: Yes, it's my real name. Where else would you get the name Pam? From Pamantha? Pamricia? Pamelamadingdong? Why would I give a fake name? And if I used Pam as my fake name, I guess I'm not very clever then. No no, when I go by an alias I prefer to go by something fun and random, like Gretchen.

Real answer: (pause) Yeah, it's my real name.

Question 3: That's my mom's name.

Answer in my head: (When I started college, it seemed like everyone's mom's name was Pam. I got this pretty much on a daily basis) Awesome. Just like every other middle-aged woman in America it seems. My mom's name is Kay. Want to talk about it?

Real answer: Cool. It's a great name. (awkward laugh)

A lot of people often mishear my name as "Kim" which is always interesting to me. Hm. And in college, when everyone was drinking and trying to meet people, I introduced myself as "Pam. Like the cooking spray" so they would remember me. Yeah, I was pretty cool.

I love my name. It's different and I think that's why I like it. Plus, it's spawned some pretty random nicknames that make me laugh: Pamcakes, Pamcat, Pamelama (short for Pamelamadingdong), PamelamaPinkPajama, Pamella, Pammers, etc. They're definitely a step up from Spam, which was my nickname growing up. I despised it.

So, that's "Pam" in a nutshell. Anyone have any fun/interesting stories about their name?

Time for bed. This is "cooking spray" signing off!

PS: Great news—no cavities! And I got an A+ for my flossing efforts. Woohoo.

This post makes my teeth hurt

2009-04-21T21:49:00.004-05:00

I am forcing myself to go to bed early tonight because I was a total zombie this morning. A really, really grumpy, crabby zombie. Every night I have the best intentions of going to bed at a semi-decent hour, but then I get hooked on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon or an old episode of Friends. Why is all the good TV on late at night?

Tomorrow I have to leave work early to go to the dentist. Yuck. I used to be terrified of the dentist when I was little. I would literally shake the entire day before an appointment and beg my Mom not to make me go. I HATED the dentist with my whole heart.

I'm much better now, but this time I am almost positive I have a cavity. Womp womp. I hope I'm wrong. I just hope she doesn't have to poke at my teeth too much with that awful metal poking scraper stick thing. You know, the really sharp one? It digs into your gums with alarming precision. I despise that and the sound it makes against your teeth...

Ok, I'll stop. I'm making my teeth hurt writing about it. Oh no wait, that might be the cavity. Argh.

I'm also going to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat tomorrow night at a small theater near my parent's house. I haven't seen it in years, so I'm kind of excited. In the height of it's popularity when I was 10, I think I saw it about 5 times in the theater. And I had the biggest crush ever on Donny Osmond. Yes, I was a bit of an odd duck. But his voice was just so dreamy...

Alright, I better tear myself away from Susan Boyle (can't stop watching that darn video) and Blogger and force myself into bed now. Goodnight!

"It's like I have ESPN or something"

2009-04-20T21:10:00.013-05:00

Ah yes, Mean Girls. So many amazing lines to quote from that movie. Everything from "Boo, you whore" and "Oh my God, Danny Devito! I love your work!" to "I wish I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy..." and "On Wednesdays, we were pink" (which I recently said to my boyfriend...he looked at me like I was nuts.)

But the one that popped into my head after I had a very weird incident at work last Friday was Karen's brilliant line, "It's like I have ESPN or something." It just seemed to fit.

First, a quick back story: My Mac laptop at work is older than dirt. It takes about an hour to start up, it gets temperamental when it doesn't get enough sleep, and it lives on a couple second delay...meaning, when I type a letter on the keyboard, it shows up on the screen 2 seconds later. So annoying. It can barely load my Gmail, let alone play videos. And since I work in an office where Youtube and Hulu are all the rage, I feel a little left out.

So Friday afternoon, I was sitting in the kitchen at work filling out the RedEye crossword and eating lunch with my coworker. She mentioned some YouTube video I should watch when I got back to my desk. Bummer. So of course, I complained and said, "I can't watch anything on my computer. I hate it. I wish it would just give up and die already. I keep waiting for it to shut off and never turn on again."

[dun dun dun]

A few minutes later, I finished my lunch and went back to my desk. My laptop was sleeping, so I hit the mouse to revive it. But something was very wrong. My normal desktop popped up, but it was completely frozen. Even the clock was frozen on 12:59pm. Almost exactly the time I sent my computer a death wish.

[cue Twilight Zone theme song]

I had to manually shut it down and stood waiting for it to reboot. A gray screen appeared...and then it started clicking really, really loudly. It was coming from inside the computer. The screen went black again, but the clicking continued. Loudly.

I ran to get the IT guy and after only a few short minutes, he called it. Time of death: 1:28pm. Cause of death: The tiny laser reader arm thingy (technical term of course) fell out of whack. So essentially, the computer was unfixable. And very much dead.

Creepy, huh? Be careful what you wish for, I guess. Because the "new" computer I now have is another Mac laptop that has already died multiple times, can't play videos and has keys that can't be used without the help of an external keyboard. Womp womp.

I lost everything on my other computer. Luckily, the only project that wasn't backed up was one I had recently started, so I didn't miss much. Thank goodness.

Oh! And Erin tagged me in the Surprise Picture Post!

Here are the rules:

•Take a picture of yourself right now.

•No primping or preparing.

•Just snap a picture.

•Load the picture onto your blog.

•Tag some people to play along.

Yep, that's me and my frizzy hair (thank you, rain). Oh look! There's even some Christmas wrapping paper, a photo album and my drying rack thrown in to add some interest. Very exciting, I know.

I think I'll tag just a couple people:

RachieAnn.Com

Zenfully Me

"That is so fetch."

Goodnight everyone!

Dirty pizza, teenybopper movies and internet troubles

2009-04-19T22:42:00.004-05:00

I wrote 95% of a post earlier today and was going to come home tonight to finish it. Buuut I just went to find it and realized that due to my ridiculously bad internet connection, it didn't save. So the entire post was erased. Bummer.

In the mean time, I'll try to do a quick weekend recap in bullets:

• I went out Friday with two of my roommates from Ireland. It was a blast. By the time the night was over, my name had been changed to Gretchen, I ate pizza off the floor (hey, it was REALLY good pizza and it was 3am) and we had a great time reliving our glory days...or at least attempting to.

• J came down early Saturday and we spent the day out and about enjoying the gorgeous weather. When spring rears its cute little head in Chicago, it's pretty much the best thing ever.

• We went out to Joe's on Weed Street Saturday night to meet up with friends and to see some band. Unfortunately, we didn't realize it was some big UFC fight night. I never knew that people actually cared about that stuff. It's totally barbaric. Who likes watching two men air-kicking, punching and straddling each other while they gush blood all over the place? Yikes.

• I went to the good grocery store today, thanks to my fabulous friend who drove me there so I didn't have to walk block and blocks through the pouring rain. Thanks Alice!

• This afternoon, I made the very wet trek to the movie theater to see Seventeen Again AND Hannah Montana (hey, I was curious). I now have a bit of a crush on Zan Efron...and I can't get the Hannah Montana Hoedown song out of my head.

• Watching the Natalee Holloway Lifetome movie late at night is creepy. Even creepier is that those Dutch boys left her passed out on the beach...while I was in Aruba a few weeks ago we had multiple people warn us not to be on the beaches at night. Apparently they are very, very dangerous. Gives me the chills.

So that's that. Anyone have any good stories from the weekend?

Don't pet the cactus

2009-04-15T22:13:00.006-05:00

I'm one of those people who has a really difficult time following the "look but don't touch" rule. That stove is hot? Hmm, I better test it. That ice is slippery? Let me give it a whirl. Keep fingers away from the cage? Let's see how close I can get...

So it's a bit surprising that I'm still like that, even after I had to learn my lesson the very hard (and very painful) way as a kid.

I was 5 and in Palm Springs, CA with my family. We were out on nature walk in the desert (sounds like a riveting trip) with a big group of people, when we stopped to admire some cacti along the path. As soon as the guide explained that it was called a "Teddy Bear Cactus", I was hooked. It just looked so darn cute and cuddly sitting in the dirt, I had to touch it. I knew a cactus had painful pricklers, but I just knew the Teddy Bear one didn't have them—it looked way too soft.

I reached out to touch it, but before I could connect, the guide stopped me and pulled my hand back. She laughed as she said, "Nope you won't want to touch those. They may look soft, but the spines are sharp. You'll get hurt."

The adults all laughed and started to walk away. I hung back a little bit and looked at my beloved cactus again. I still had to touch it.

In one swift movement, I lowered my hand down and started petting the cactus. I didn't care that it felt a little prickly, I was just excited to touch it. When I heard my Mom call my name, I quickly jumped up. My mission was complete.

And then my hand started throbbing.

As I looked down and saw tons and tons and tons of tiny spines sticking out my hand, I screamed bloody murder. The guide ran back over to me, knowing exactly what I had done. I was sobbing uncontrollably as she stopped the tour (sorry to everyone else, by the way) and picked every single spine out with a pair of tweezers. I screamed and screamed and screamed some more. It was excruciating. But at least I got to pet my precious cactus. Was it worth it? You bet.

And because of that, I have a weird respect and fascination with cacti...though I'll probably never, ever touch one again. Damn you Teddy Bear Cactus, damn you.

A haiku for Tuesday

2009-04-14T21:35:00.003-05:00

Because it has nothing else going for it. It was just another Tuesday-ish Tuesday here in my world.

Tuesday is over

Though it dragged by so slowly

Like a drunken sloth

Poetic genius, right there. A little secret...I love writing weird poems. Maybe it was all the dirty poems I used to write about *NSYNC in high school (go ahead and laugh) or the 3-page paper I once wrote as one long poem (my teacher loved it), but I've always loved a good rhyming...or haiku...challenge.

Hmm...more to come soon. Including the top secret one I'm working on now. Muhaha.

A run-in with Debbie Downer

2009-04-13T19:49:00.003-05:00

Last weekend, I ran to the grocery store with my Mom to pick up a few things. We were ready to make a quick run through the store...until we ran in to my Mom's cousin. AKA Debbie Downer. And that meant a very long, very depressing conversation was inevitable.

Though we're close with the rest of our family, we've never been very close to my Mom's cousins We know them well enough, but probably only see them every few years. In this case, it has been a couple years since any of us have caught up. And the thing is, Debbie has quite the reputation for dropping the most tragic, depressing, heart-wrenching drama bombs every time you talk to her. Everything is just sad, sad, sad. And this time was no exception.

It started off light with "how are yous" and a quick comment about her daughter getting into the college of her choice. And then BAM! twenty (yes twenty) long minutes of everything that has gone wrong over the last couple of years...

After hearing in detail about crystal meth addictions, abused children injuries, guns, accidents, witness protection stints, hospital trips and arrests, we thought it was over.

But wait, that was only about ONE person in her life. Let's not forget the bouts with cancer, more addiction, oxygen tanks, homelessness, etc affecting the rest of her relatives.

It's horrible, it really is. She has had so much sadness and tragedy in her family and we're there to support her. But really? In the grocery store? We were standing next to the little smiley lamb cakes for goodness sakes. There is a time and a place for those conversations and the bakery section of the grocery store certainly isn't it. As she was talking, people kept walking by and you could tell by their shocked faces that they definitely overheard her story. I nearly laughed...but I'm not completely heartless, so I didn't.

It was nice to see her and catch up. But after we said goodbye, my Mom and I both looked at each other, said a silent "Oh my God" and walked away very quickly. It kind of put a damper on our excited Easter moods. Thanks Debbie!

Oh and silly question, everyone...how do you get more friends on Twitter? Do I just randomly start following people? Just wondering...I love Twitter so far!

Easter love and leaky eyes

2009-04-12T18:52:00.008-05:00

Happy Easter, everyone! Hope you all had wonderful days! I did for the most part. I just got back from a very interesting time at my Grandma's house...

I had a lovely little Easter morning with my immediate family, looking through our Easter baskets (yep, we still get them), eating blueberry muffins and getting ready for church. Church was a bit long...we had to stand in the back the whole time, which is good for people watching, but not good for paying attention. Then we headed to my Grandma's, where my leaky eyes got the best of me.

Yes, leaky eyes. You know when you start to cry and then stop, but feel as if you're on the verge of tears for a while after the fact? Well maybe that's not common, but for me, it's a regular occurrence. And it is SO annoying.

It started over brunch, when my brother unintentionally insulted me in front of a bunch of my very impressionable cousins. I was so embarrassed. While everyone else laughed it off, I felt really uncomfortable as I tried to nurse my hurt feelings.

So I got up and mingled around for a bit, then came back and tried to shake it off. But then my Mom started motioning to me from the other room, telling me to come join her conversation with my uncle. So I ran over to see what was up and realized that they were talking about my upcoming job search/move to Milwaukee.

And that was when I started panicking. I've never had a panic attack or an anxiety attack or whatever, and maybe that wasn't what it was, but all of a sudden I got really hot and clammy, felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest and felt tears well up in my eyes.

I quietly listened and fought back tears while my uncle, in a very stern, matter-of-fact voice told me I should be prepared to be unemployed, anger my current coworkers and boss, and have an impossible time finding a job.

It got to be too much for me. In one crazy moment, I bolted from my chair, ran upstairs and burst into tears in my Grandma's bathroom. Totally uncalled for, but I just couldn't help it.

After a few minutes, I composed myself and went back downstairs. I couldn't look my uncle in the eyes, but my Mom turned around and asked if I was okay. And that set me off again. I ran back upstairs, tears welling up again.

When I came down again, my cousin asked if I was ok...and it set me off again. (Don't you know you're NEVER supposed to ask someone if they're ok if look like they've just been crying??) It literally happened 6 times. I begged my sister to go since she was driving me home and luckily she agreed. I just couldn't stop crying. And I wasn't even upset, my eyes just had a mine of their own. I was completely mortified.

And it wasn't really what my uncle said, it was how he said it. I think I was more shocked than anything because he's a really nice guy. I guess he felt really bad, but I didn't talk to him before I left. Between my convo with him and my brother's unkind words, I had had enough.

I feel really bad that I let it all get to me, but I just felt so overwhelmed. Apparently my upcoming move is a much touchier subject than I realized. Yikes.

So now I'm curled up on my couch, watching The Sound of Music and trying to get over my embarrassment. At least it was just family, right? Ugh. It's still bad.

I took the plunge.

2009-04-10T21:23:00.004-05:00

I am now officially on Twitter. And for some reason, I'm really nervous about it. Kind of like when I started this blog, actually.

I know I have a lot to learn...like what all the "@ username" means (I'm assuming it's how you talk to people?) or what "rt" stands for. Yes, I'm a newbie. Please don't laugh too hard.

But after being super creepy and following celebrities on it all week like Justin Timerlake (of course), Ashton Kutcher and Jimmy Fallon (love him), I just had to give it a whirl. And though I'm nervous, I'm pretty darn excited, too.

Thank you to everyone for all the comments/advice/suggestions. You guys are the best!

So now it's time to hop on the fun train and follow me!

Birds tweet. I don't...yet.

2009-04-08T21:21:00.000-05:00

Can someone please explain Twitter to me? I mean I get the idea of it, but what is the point? I think I might be one of the only people in the world that isn't on it right now and I'm beginning to feel a bit left out.

I really hadn't heard of Twitter until last summer. One of my friends got really into it and urged me to sign up. So I did. But I didn't really know anyone on it besides her and it kind of creeped me out because people kept asking to follow me, even though I didn't know them. It was semi-entertaining for about a day, and then I got bored with it. I still have my account, but I haven't "tweeted" (is that the lingo?) since July.

Last week, I was proofreading (surprise, surprise) and saw that the other copywriter had included copy about Twitter into a piece we created for our wireless client. I was pretty surprised. And then suddenly, I saw mentions of Twitter everywhere. On TV, in the newspaper, online, on every blog, etc. Whoa. And then I found out that some celebrities are apparently really into it (gotta love celeb gossip) and now I'm even more intrigued.

So I'm rethinking the whole Twitter thing. Maybe I should give it another shot. Hmm. Anyone have any good advice/tips/tricks/opinions/ideas they can give me? Are the celeb tweets real? And how the heck do you know who to follow, etc? And what does following even mean? I think I have a lot to learn...

I ate a bug today. Ew.

2009-04-07T21:09:00.002-05:00

Tuesday. Ugh. I very strongly dislike Tuesday. It really doesn't have much going for it, does it? I mean Monday is Monday, so that's an excuse in itself. Wednesday is Hump Day and halfway through the week. Thursday is almost Friday (plus great TV) and Friday is Friday and the weekend. So what does Tuesday have? Nothing.

In my experience, Tuesdays generally tend to be not the best days. Bummer, since my birthday falls on a Tuesday this year (woot woot June 16th). And today was an exceptionally Tuesdayish Tuesday. Here's why:

• I had to spend the first 4.5 hours of my day proofreading. Now I know I'm a copywriter and I know a certain amount of proofing is expected, but it's been out of control the last few days. So much so, that I can't even finish my regular work. As in the writing. As in my job. I used to not mind proofreading things, but now when I read the same 8 page piece for the 10th time in two days, I am ready to scream. I literally wanted to pull my hair out. I haven't even taken a lunch (something I always do) since I've been back from vacation because I haven't had time. Ok sorry, I'll quit complaining.

• Today I brought some of my deliciously fresh looking blackberries I picked up at Trader Joe's last night. I washed them in the kitchen at work and then went back to proofread. Of course. So I was sitting there, not looking at my berries and reading the same line of copy for the 67th time, when I noticed my berry tasted funny. So I looked down at the plate of plump blackberries and to my horror saw tiny little bugs crawling on them. I jumped up from my chair, let out a screech and pushed my plate away. By then I had already eaten half the berries, surely covered in bugs too, and that was enough to make my stomach churn and my skin crawl. Sick. I ran straight to the kitchen and dumped the rest. And now I might be ruined on blackberries for a long time...

• It was cold and windy. Not as bad as yesterday, but still. It's April!

• The end of my day was spent editing stories about people suffering from nervous breakdowns and bouts of depression. It was seriously so...depressing.

But, on the plus side, I did get to go to Pilates (yay!) and I got my copy of New Moon back so I can reread the Twilight series (hey, after all the proofing, I need something mindless to read).

And tomorrow I definitely want to write about my love for Chicago 2016. I really, really, really hope Chicago gets the 2016 Olympics! But for now, I'm off to veg out some more.

The real world and the dream world

2009-04-05T20:54:00.004-05:00

This weekend I was up in Milwaukee visiting my boyfriend. Milwaukee, as in the place I'll be moving to within the next 6 months. Eek!

Back in September when I made the decision to move up there, it seemed so far away. But suddenly the whole thing is becoming very, very real. I'm at the point where I need to start pumping up my resume, freshening up my portfolio and beginning the job hunt. Though I can't make the move until the end of the summer because of my current lease and the fact that Chicago is AMAZING in the summer, it's time I start getting serious. Yikes.

It really hit me last night when J and I were out on a double date with his two teacher friends, who are getting married in July. We went out for a couple of drinks after dinner and at one point, J's friend raised his glass and made a toast to me and my move to Milwaukee. He toasted to "new friends" and while it was very flattering, it scared the crap out of me, too. It was an "Oh my God, I'm really going to do this" moment.

I'm excited to move there, I really am. Not because I like the city (ehh...), but because I'm excited to be close to J and after doing the long distance thing for 2 years, it will be really, really nice to get to see him on a daily basis. But I'm really going to miss Chicago. I'm going to miss living close to all my friends, the newly-established book club I'm in, being close to my brother and sister, working down on Michigan Avenue, Berry Chill, the water taxi, my Pilates place, etc, etc. I love Chicago. So while I'm excited to make the move, I can guarantee I'll shed a few tears as I pack up my apartment. Gosh, I'm already getting sad thinking about it...thank goodness Milwaukee is only an hour and a half away.

And by the way, I really need to stop watching Twilight. I bought it at Target so it came with a free iTunes download. So naturally, I downloaded it, put it on my iPhone and watched it on my way to and from Milwaukee this weekend. Not to mention the fact that I watched it a few times last week...I'm addicted to it.

So that would probably explain the crazy dream I had in which I became a vampire. I was at a family cook out and someone casually mentioned they were a vampire...and yeah, I just magically became one. So weird.

Speaking of weird dreams, I also had a dream that I met Justin Timberlake (eek) and then he had the stomach flu and gave me the stomach flu and I was psyched that I could tell people I got it from him. Gross. I also had a dream that I met the Gosselins (of John and Kate + 8), but it was 6 years in the future and all the kids were like morbidly obese. Sad.

Yeah I guess my mind was busy last night...and now I'm off to watch Twilight again. I need to stop.

Nice to meet you. Now let's date.

2009-04-02T23:00:00.003-05:00

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about past and current relationships I've had with guys. I've heard my friends and my sister talking about the right place to meet them, and I'm not sure such a place exists. In my personal experience, I've met the guys I've dated totally randomly.

So I thought I'd share some of my stories. I left a couple guys out because my post would probably be about 20 pages long, but I kept in the good ones. And I changed the names to protect the innocent...and to give myself a laugh.

Dairy King—My high school boyfriend, AKA my first boyfriend. Our relationship can pretty much be summed up by cars, Dairy Queen, cheating (on his end), drama, drama, drama and gas stations. Yes, gas stations. Because that's where I met him. On that fateful February evening of 2002, a love connection was made at a Mobile station in the suburbs. My friend and I were at pump 6 and he and his friends were at pump 9 (can't believe I remember that). I was a junior and desperate to find a date for my junior prom because I went to an all-girls high school and boys were quite scarce. So my friend and I had actually been on the prowl that night, driving around town looking for cute boys. Ok yeah, probably not the coolest thing to admit, but whatever.

So while we were pumping gas, the guys noticed us and came over to say hi. Boys were actually talking to us. Amazing. We ended up making random small talk and then they invited us with them to Taco Bell to go get food. And I can honestly say, I've never been more excited to go get mediocre and somewhat questionable Mexican fast food. I was giddy the whole time. We ended up hanging out the whole night and then talked on the phone the next day and despite a small mix up with the guys (I liked Dairy King, but he liked my friend and my friend liked the guy that liked me), it all worked out. Dairy King and I started dating and the rest is a whole long teenage drama-filled story.

Sligo—My Irish guy. The only guy I've actually met while at a bar. It was September of 2005 and I was studying abroad in Galway. It was like a Monday night or something (we went out pretty much every night of the week there) and my three roommates and I were at our favorite pub, Hole In The Wall. We went out just to have a few drinks, maybe meet some cute guys and have some fun, but we didn't realize that Irish kids didn't go out during the week. The pub was dead.

So we sat there at a table in a corner, drinking our double red bull vodkas (yikes) and looking like total lushes, when we noticed a group of people sit down at the table next to us. The group was made up of two guys and two girls (all Irish) and they were being pretty loud. And the girls wouldn't stop looking at us. After already having a few drinks, I was getting super annoyed. That is, until the good-looking, dark-haired guy got up and started chatting with us. He asked if he could buy us drinks, ALL of us (though apparently my dear friend A missed out...sorry). I later learned that apparently if an Irish guy likes you, he'll buy drinks for you and everyone you're with. Not sure if that's true, but whatever.

So after he bought the drinks, he slid into the seat next to me, introduced himself as Sligo, told me I had lovely green eyes and then asked for a kiss. Well of course I giggled and asked why, to which he explained that it was his 21st birthday and at that pub it was customary to get a kiss from every girl (or guy) at the pub on your birthday. So what did I do? I kissed him. Within 5 minutes of meeting him. Though I was a bit drunk, it was good and I was totally hooked. We texted the entire next day, went to a movie (Goal!) the next week and dated until I left in December. We actually never "broke up", we just said goodbye to each other and left it at that.

I later found out that it was actually his 23rd birthday the night we met, but he thought 21 sounded like a more interesting age to an American girl. Actually, I didn't find that out until a year and a half after I got home. He sent me a confession e-mail. Hilarious.

J—The peanut butter to my jelly. My dear, sweet boyfriend, and the guy I'm moving up to Milwaukee (eek!) for at the end of the summer. When people ask us how we met, we tell them it was through mutual friends. We lived in the same dorm sophomore year when we met and we do have mutual friends, so it seems totally legit.

The truth? That's a bit more embarrassing. I actually had a rather large crush on his roommate, before I even knew who J was. One night, I went out with my friends and we ran into the roommate at a party. We ended up all hanging out together and I drunkenly (ok yikes, I sound like I drink all the time...I really don't) followed him back to the dorm. Well, he clearly didn't want to be anything more than friends, but I made some excuse about watching TV and went up to his room with him. We sat on his futon, flipped on the TV and I passed out. Nothing happened at all, and I didn't expect it to...I was totally not that type of girl. So I guess the roommate got up and went to his bed, leaving me sound asleep on his futon.

J was working late that night and got home to find me, a girl he didn't know, sleeping curled up, shivering in a little skirt and tank top. So he very kindly covered me in a blanket so I wouldn't freeze. The next morning I woke up, not knowing where I was and got up quickly to flee the room. J was laying on his lofted bed, looking down at me. He asked me if I was alright, but I freaked out, grabbed my purse and ran out the door without saying a word. Really classy, I know.

I later found out through mutual friends (see they do tie in somewhere), that J kept asking about me. We became close friends and even went on a few dates, but it wasn't until I got back from Ireland and after I'd said goodbye to Sligo that I started dating J. And we've been dating ever since.

Talking about the guys I've dated opens up a whole can of worms. Yikes. I saw Sligo last summer for the first time in almost 3 years, which was....I don't know how to describe it. Bittersweet, I think. I haven't seen Dairy King since summer 2003, though my mom runs into his mom occasionally. Hmm, perhaps I'll have to share more guy stories sometime soon, now that this got me thinking...

I heart Easter candy

2009-04-01T21:46:00.003-05:00

Whoppers Robin Eggs are soooo good. I can't stop eating them. And those little sugary chocolatey Cadbury eggs? My favorite. I don't know what it is about Easter candy but I just love it.

Ok yes, totally random post but a) my internet is being ridiculously annoying right now and keeps cutting out, b) I had to proofread for 4 and a 1/2 hours straight today and my eyes can't seem to focus and c) I need to go to bed early because I stayed up way too late last night watching Twilight. Oops.

In the mean time, I'm whipping up a couple of good posts, so stay tuned!

One happy island.

2009-03-30T19:08:00.024-05:00

I am now officially obsessed with the Caribbean. Before my trip to Aruba, I had never actually seen white sand beaches or turquoise water. And once I realized how amazing it all is, I couldn't get enough. I felt like I was living in a postcard the whole time.

Beautiful.

I wanted to hug the palm trees, but I was afraid a lizard would jump out and eat me.

My sister, Mom and I out on the town

Enjoying a delicious dinner at Madame Janette's (so good!)

So in order to squeeze a week's worth of travel tales in one neat little (ok not so little) post, I thought I'd highlight the important parts in a segment I'd like to call "Happy Learnings from One Happy Island":• Going on vacation with my Mom and sister means lots of sun time, lots of reading time and lots of relaxing time. Exactly what I needed.

• Snorkeling is fun. And sometimes dangerous, especially when you jump off the side of a sailboat into the middle of the ocean on a cloudy day, in a sea of very, very choppy water. When you're trying to stay afloat with 30 other snorkel-happy people, you might collide with someone. Head on. And end up with a cute little cut and egg-sized lump on your forehead. Thank goodness the crew onboard thought to douse my head in vodka to clean the cut. Vodka buuuurns. (And I walked around smelling like a dirty bar the rest of the day.)

• Playing the "guess what I am singing under the water" game never gets old...no matter how old you are.

• The sound of waves crashing on the beach is so much better than an iPod.

• If I ever get a pet iguana, I'm naming it Bob because iguanas love to bob their heads. There are oodles of head-bobbing iguanas all over Aruba and they love to lounge in the sun. Hence, the "lounge lizard" phrase.

• If a 73-year-old couple suggests a fun outing, they mean you'll end up at a "street festival" in the backyard of a cultural center watching little kids jazz dance and old people getting their kicks from an off-tune organ. And if you find yourself in such a place, it's not okay to burst out laughing (whoops), but it is okay to quickly sneak out the back.

• If you tend to talk wildly with your hands and feel the need to give a passionate speech about the Aruban economy in response to someone simply saying, "Aruba is beautiful", perhaps you shouldn't be a cab driver. It could result in very swervy driving, very wrong turns and very scared passengers.

• Thong swimsuits are never appropriate. Especially on men. (shudder)

• I adore Aruba Aribas. Almost as much as I adore Strawberry Daqoladas, a hybrid of a Strawberry Daquiri and a Piña Colada. Mmm so good.

• Happy hour is so much better when tropical drinks are involved.

• It is a little creepy to see a huge missing persons case centered in Aruba resurface all over headline news when you're actually in Aruba.

• The Aruban airport is like a funhouse. Only not a fun funhouse. And it's important to remain patient while you wait in line 2 hours to even get to the check-in counter. And then while you wait in line another 2 hours to go through Aruban customs, one security check point, another security check point, a huge room full of luggage to pick up your screened luggage, a trip through U.S. customs, and yet another room to drag your luggage to the plane. It just makes leaving vacation that much more difficult...

• Don't try to smuggle a parrot home in your suitcase. It might have the bird flu (and that's clearly the only reason why it's a bad idea). The Aruban airport feels the need to tell passengers that with brightly colored posters hanging on EVERY wall.

• It's possible to take 3 million pictures of sunsets and only about 5 of actual people. See below:

Amazing. If you haven't been to Aruba, you should definitely go. It's warm, sunny and picture perfect every single day. I can't wait to go back...

From sand and sun to snow and sludge

2009-03-29T23:06:00.004-05:00

I'm baaaaaaaack. And just in time for a springtime snow storm! Ew. I'm just glad I got back...yesterday's flights were ridiculously rough.

Oh well! It was a wonderful vacation. I love, love, love Aruba. I had to practically be dragged off the beach yesterday morning to go to the airport. Bummer. And the Aruba airport was a trip in itself. Yikes. But more on that another time.

I'm working on a post with pics and stories of my travels, so check back soon! Here's a little preview:

I want to go back...

If your cat is on drugs, that's not a good thing.

2009-03-25T18:00:00.002-05:00

Last week, my coworker was telling me how she will be catsitting for her neighbor while she is out of town for a few weeks. To be completely honest, I'm not a big cat person, so I usually tune people out when they start going on about their precious kitty cats. Sorry, but I've never met a nice cat before...

Well anyway, the night before her neighbor left, my coworker had to go to her apartment to get trained on how to take care of the cats. Yes, trained. Apparently both cats are like 412-years-old and basically on life support. She has to give the cats a mixture of 7, yes 7, different prescriptions, 2 different kinds of shots, an IV and special mashed-up food.

Are you kidding me? First of all, I think it's crazy that the girl would leave her seriously ill cats with a neighbor and ask her to give her cat shots twice a day. I would vomit if I had to do that. Second of all, why are those cats even alive? I mean really, they sound sick! The girl even told my coworker that she wouldn't be surprised if one of the cats died while she was out of town. What?!

I don't mean to sound heartless. I love animals. Ok correction, I love dogs. And it's horrible to see them when they're suffering. Growing up, my family had an English Springer Spaniel named Chelsea. When she was 12 we noticed bumps on her skin, took her to the vet and found out that she had very aggressive skin cancer. After a couple of days, we realized how much pain she was in and put her to sleep. It was so sad, but it would have been worse to keep her alive and in pain.

After Chelsea, we had Maisy, a Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier. She was essentially my dog. We got her my sophomore year in high school and I absolutely adored her. But during my senior year of college, my Mom called to tell me that Maisy had been acting very lethargic, so she took her to the vet for tests. The results were devastating (ok I might cry as I type this, why the hell am I telling this story?) Her kidneys were almost completely diseased and quickly failing. The vet said we could put her on dialysis and keep her alive for another year or so, but that would be it. It was heartbreaking. As we saw our little Maisy getting slower and weaker every day, we decided to put her to sleep. And it turned out the day she went down was her 6th birthday. Yeah, she was only 6...

Ok wow, now I'm all teared up over here. Anyway, the point is that I can't imagine watching your beloved pets suffer. The girl's cats are basically on life support and now my coworker is responsible for keeping them alive. She was given an 8 page guide for the cats, including lengthy descriptions of their personalities. One was described as weak, grouchy and old; the other is rickety, skinny and doesn't eat. Hmm...sounds like my coworker is in for a fun time!

But who am I to judge, right? She must be very attached to them. I only hope they aren't suffering too much...

And on a happier note, my parents do have two happy, healthy little misfit mutts right now that keep us all quite entertained. Aww Rufus and Nellie. So cute.

Also, this reminds me that I really need to tell you all the story of how I was asked to proofread a 3-page cat obituary once at work...it was probably one of the funniest moments of my life.

Why Cream of Wheat makes me cringe

2009-03-23T17:00:00.004-05:00

Apparently I've been obliviously saying dirty things since I was little. I was recently (and ever so kindly) reminded that my pineapple chicken and frozen lemonade slip-ups were definitely not the first times I've blurted out something wildly inappropriate in a very public setting.

When I was growing up, I went to Northern Wisconsin on vacation with my whole family (cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc). Every single summer we all packed up our cars and headed up north for a week at this wonderfully run-down resort (kind of like a rustic version of Dirty Dancing). My Mom and her family had been going since she was 12, so the place was pretty much in our blood. We LOVED it there. Sadly, the place shut down two years ago and we were all devastated.

The resort was known for having handsome college-aged waiters. And when girls vacationing there were in high school and college, it was their turn to party with the waiters—sneak up to their cabin at night, steal food from the kitchen, drink on the tennis courts—AKA be a total badass (ha). I definitely had my days, but that's a story for another time.

So when I was 10, my sister was at the "party with the waiters" stage and I thought she was SO lucky. Our waiter that year, Pete, was SO cute and I had the biggest crush on him. I'd blush (of course) every time he talked to me. And I desperately wanted to grow up faster so I could be cool like my sister and hang out with him.

One morning, Pete came over to take my breakfast order and I wasn't prepared. I was too lost in a daydream starring me and him to think about food. So I quickly blurted out:

"I want some Cream of Pete"

He immediately burst out laughing. I quickly became embarrassed, but I didn't know why. And unfortunately, the whole table heard what I said. Everyone was laughing hysterically, but no one would explain to me what was so funny. So being the total crybaby I was, I burst into tears and ran out of the dining hall. I was totally mortified.

After that day, Cream of Wheat officially became known as "Cream of Pete" in our family. And every year we vacationed there, the story was repeated over and over again. Even to this day, if I'm out with my siblings and see it on a menu, I'll always get a "Look, Pam! Want some Cream of Pete?"

The saddest part? I didn't get what the heck "Cream of Pete" meant for another 6 or 7 years (I was very sheltered), even after being tormented by the story every summer. I couldn't figure out for the life of me what was so funny about my tiny verbal slip-up.

No worries. I get it now. What a dirty kid I was...

Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I want to take you...

2009-03-19T22:15:00.003-05:00

Get those tropical drinks and sunbeams ready, Aruba. Here I come!

Tomorrow is my last day of work for a whole glorious week. Then I'm heading up to my parents' house in the 'burbs tomorrow night to see my Dad (who will just be getting back from Shanghai), see my dogs and do my final preparations for the big trip.

My Mom, sister and I will head to the airport bright and early Saturday morning to begin our "spring break" in Aruba. Woooo spring break! It's going to get rowdy!! Or not. All I really want to do is lay on the beach, squish my toes in the sand, and sip an icy piña colada with a little umbrella in it. Oh and maybe hug a palm tree or two (bad habit of mine). I've never been to the Caribbean before, so I'm really excited.

I've been listening to Jimmy Buffett and Bob Marley all week to put me in the mood and boy, has it worked. Probably a little too much. I'm pretty sure my coworkers are ready to shoot me since I've had a huge smile on my face since yesterday. Whoops.

And tonight I've been scrambling to do my last minute preparations. I did all my dishes, sobbed as a I watched Grey's Anatomy and wrote this lovely little post. I still have to update my iPod, have a little summer clothes fashion show with myself and figure out which bag to use as my carry on. Yikes! So much to do. I already know I'll over-pack by a ton (I always do), but I'm okay with that. You just never know what you'll want to wear, right? Last night I got so excited about unearthing my summer clothes that I literally threw every sundress, short-sleeved shirt, tank top, etc in my suitcase. So I guess I kind of need to do a little unpacking now...

But anyway, I'll be in Aruba for a week. Don't worry though, I won't leave you hanging. I wrote a couple of posts to you keep entertained while I'm away. And I think they're pretty good, if I do say so myself. Oh and never fear, I promise not to go follow any Dutch boys into the sea or whatever (it's a little creepy how many people have warned me of that...)

Oh well. Have a wonderful week everyone!

I'm obsessed with green

2009-03-17T20:14:00.007-05:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

In honor of my second favorite holiday, I thought I'd post some of my very favorite pictures featuring the star of the day: Ireland (well, kind of...sorry, St. Patrick)

Second trip to the Cliffs of Moher

View from the Rock of Cashel in County Tipperary

View from the side of the road near Dingle

Sheep. Lots and lots of sheep everywhere you go.

I miss Ireland. I can't wait to go back one day. Everything is just so green and vibrant and lovely...

Ok wow, sorry, got all nostalgic there.

So now I have a question for all of you. Since I'm heading on vacation on Saturday, I need some good books to read. While I normally love reading Jodi Picoult and Phillipa Gregory books, I'm looking for something a little bit lighter and and a whole lot funnier this time (not that I don't love balling my eyes out on the beach). Maybe chick lit (love Shopaholic) or maybe not...I just want an easy, fun beach read that keeps me entertained.

So if anyone has any good suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Thanks a million!

I need the world's largest stress ball

2009-03-16T22:25:00.005-05:00

I'm just going to apologize in advance for being completely MIA this week.

I leave for Aruba on Saturday. And usually the whole week before I go on vacation, I'm completely checked out. Head in the clouds, day dreaming of palm trees, just floating through the days.

This week? Not so much. Work has been insane. Like literally, it has never been this busy before. Ever. On top of that, the senior copywriter (who I work a ton with) is out starting Wednesday and won't be back until the follow Wednesday. And since I'm out all next week, our vacation time overlaps. Meaning....I have to get EVERYTHING done by 5pm Friday. On top of it all, everyone else from the creative team, my boss included, will be out Wednesday, the same day we have about 5 projects due.

So my coworker and I sat down to map out everything we need to do and I was feeling good. But as soon as I walked away from our meeting, my other coworker informed me that we had 2 new jobs (with multiple parts) due by Friday. I was ready to scream.

Ok yes, yes I'm rambling. Sorry. I'm just like a giant ball of anxiety right now. I know it will get done and I'm happy to be busy, but yikes. I guess I really have to work for my time off, right?

Anyway, please excuse me while I scream into my pillow. I need to let off a bit of steam.

Green beer is magically delicious

2009-03-15T20:56:00.006-05:00

Have I mentioned how much I love St. Patrick's Day? I absolutely adore it. Next to Christmas, it's my favorite holiday. It's all green and Irishy and lively—what's not to love?

Yesterday was the big day of festivities in Chicago and it was a total blast. I started my morning with Starbucks, eggs, bacon and beer at 10am. And I didn't get home until about 1:15am. After consuming my body weight in green beer, I'm not even sure how I made it. But it was a beautiful day, everyone was in festive spirits and I soaked up every minute. Plus, the midday drunk food run to McDonald's helped out a bit, too. It gave me the push I needed to go to the Gaelic Storm concert at House of Blues last night. The band just kept playing and playing and playing for almost 3 hours. Amazing. And now I really, really want to play the fiddle.

Anyway, I'll be sure to share more stories tomorrow...maybe about the horrible fashion I witnessed yesterday (thigh high socks are never good, especially not with white booty shorts) or about the Indiana Jones-wannabe at the concert who kept trying to do an Irish jig. But for now I need to head to bed. I've been a waste of space all day. Actually, I was very productive because I had to run a million errands, but my head was in the clouds all day long. It was kind of like I was just floating through the day like a little space cadet.

I'll leave you with a picture that pretty much sums up my day yesterday:

That would be me and my boyfriend trying to recreate the weird statues at the Rock and Roll McDonald's. Wow, that female statue's jeans sure aren't flattering at all, if you know what I mean. Yikes.

What the hell is Willis Tower?

2009-03-12T21:30:00.008-05:00

Well, that would be the new name of the Sears Tower.

Are you kidding me?! They are renaming one of the most identifiable buildings in the world and THE icon of Chicago? When I think of the Sears Tower, it doesn't even occur to me that it was once named after Sears department store. It's like Wrigley Field—the name just fits. And for most Chicagoans, I doubt they think about sticks of gum before setting foot inside to see a Cubs game.

So some British company called Willis Holdings managed to get their hands on the naming rights and BAM! we now have Willis Tower. Damn you, Brits, why did you have to do that? You just stole a piece of Chicago. I love your accents, your princes (the young, studly ones) and your tea, but that's it. Now I'm a bit mad at you for swooping in and taking our beloved Sears Tower.

I'd rather think of it as being named after the older brother on Different Strokes. And Chicagoans, I guess we better prepare ourselves to hear a whole lot of people say, "What you talkin' about Willis?" I've already heard that about 16 times over the last 24 hours. Oh well, I'm sure everyone will still call it the Sears Tower. I know I will. Willis just doesn't seem like a name that will stick. At all.

This morning as Starbucks I was discussing the name change with my coworker. As we were waiting for our drinks, I said loudly, "Those damn Brits make themselves look like asses by swooping in and changing the name..."

Before I could finish my sentence, the guy standing next to me leaned over to get something from the counter. He grabbed his drink, turned to look at me and said, "Excuse me, that's my drink". In a VERY thick British accent. The way he looked at me, I knew he heard what I said. Whoops. But really, out of all the people in Chicago, the guy standing next to me had to be British? I have very interesting luck.

And speaking of luck, tomorrow is the big day o' St. Patrick's Day fun in the city. I can't even wait. I'm getting up bright and early to go see the bright green river (love it), watch the parade, listen to fun music, drink endless amounts of green beer and soak up all the amazing Irishness. It's finally a day (well weekend in this case) where everyone shares my intense love of all things Irish. And then tomorrow night I'm heading down to House of Blues to see Gaelic Storm. Amaaaazing.

My thoughts exactly. Happy early St. Patrick's Day everyone!

Not-so-Kodak moments, European style

2009-03-11T21:11:00.014-05:00

The other day I was feeling all nostalgic and decided to look through the pictures I took while I studied abroad in Galway, Ireland in fall 2005. And they made me laugh out loud. So I thought I'd share some of my favorite bizarre pictures, since everyone likes looking at pictures, right? If not, just pretend.

Please note: These were taken over 3 years ago. My hair was frizzy and terrible (hey, it rains A LOT in Ireland) and I gained about 20 pounds over the course of my 4 months there, which you might notice in the pictures. Sick, I know, but we ate and drank to our heart's content, so I'm surprised it wasn't more.

Pretending to sleep at an ancient burial ground in the Burren. We were trying to be peaceful, but I couldn't stop laughing. And now I'm afraid my mockery earned me a one-way ticket to hell. Whoops. Next time I'll just stick to snapping pictures of the painted sheep.

This was taken at Dropkick Murphy's pub in Edinburgh. We saw the "craic" sign (a gaelic word for "fun", pronounced like "crack") and thought it would be fun to pose with it. But apparentlyI didn't get the memo to flash rockstar fists. Instead, I mimed snorting crack. As in the drug. Can you even snort crack? I don't know, I'm super anti-drug, which is why this picture was extra bizarre.

This little beauty was taken at the Gravity Bar at the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin. We thought we'd look cool and snap a pic of us taking our first sip. Only, that was the first time I'd ever tried Guinness and clearly you can tell by my face how much I liked it. I look like I might vomit into my glass.

After pleading with my brother to take this very touristy shot in Leuven, Belgium (where he lived at the time), he finally agreed. That right there is an actual grilled cheese vending machine. I kid you not. Is that not the coolest thing you've ever seen? I was amazed. And it pops one out in 60 seconds! I was dragged away before I could actually buy one (I was told they were sketchy). Bummer.

Oh how I miss the scary European cigarettes packages. Not that I've ever smoked before, but they always amused me...until I came across this one in London. It was a bit depressing for me and after a long night of drinking, I just had to have a picture with it. It says, "Smoking can cause a slow and painful death." Yikes. Just say no, kids.

Munich was full of these crazy painted lions. Each one had a theme (the Santa one was my fav), but when we found this one, we couldn't figure it out. It was wearing makeup, a belt, daisy flip flops, rings, a bitten chocolate heart necklace that says "I love Munich", a checkered bib and it's holding a liter of beer.

And as I typed that, I think I finally realized what it's supposed to be. An American. No wait...a trashy American woman. Hmm...

A totally classic pose in Paris. Being the cheeseballs we are, we had to take this pic. But it was only later that I realized we might have chosen one of the worst spots to do this. How nice that we thought to frame the lovely graffiti in the background. I think I might be one of the first people ever to make the Eiffel Tower look ghetto. Nice work.

There were oodles more, but I'll spare you tonight. Maybe one day I'll put up my favorite good pictures from Ireland and beyond. Or not. You'll just have to wait and see.

Have a great night everyone!

Betrayed by the blush

2009-03-10T21:59:00.004-05:00

My cheeks have a flair for the dramatics.

No, no, not those cheeks. I mean the ones that everyone sees, right on my face. The ones that are always a bright, rosy red from my constant blushing.

You see, I blush really, really easily. Normal people usually just blush when in the presence of a cute guy or when giving a speech in school. Lucky ducks. I blush when my boss asks me a question, when my Pilates instructor corrects my form, when the guy working at Panera calls my name to give me my sandwich, when someone asks me for directions on the street, when the bus driver asks me to re-swipe my bus card...the list goes on and on.

And if that's not bad enough, when I realize I'm blushing, I only get more embarrassed. Which of course, leads to a more intense blush. So by the time the interaction is finished, my face is beet red. No, worse than that. It's like the color of an embarrassed, sunburnt tomato suffering from scarlet fever and dressed head to toe in a beet red Snuggie.

And of course, with my mix of German, Irish and Norwegian ancestry, I'm about as pale as they come. Oh wait, sorry, I'm porcelain. That sounds much prettier...like a little doll that sits on a shelf for years collecting dust and secretly scaring the children of the house. Or not. But anyway, my nice white skin provides the perfect blushing canvas. So there's really no escaping it.

It's amazing to me that they sell blush as make up. People actually want to look like they're constantly blushing? Hmm, yeah okay, I own some. And I wear it, too, but you probably couldn't tell. My natural blush tends to override the effect of the make up blush. Sad.

Oh and in the latest installment of "Pam Says the Darndest Things", I had a bit of an awkward and very blush-worthy moment today.

My boss (who is very sarcastic, which always makes me nervous because I don't get sarcasm very easily) is going on vacation tomorrow so today was his last day at work for awhile. On my way out tonight, I stuck my head in his office to tell him to have a nice trip. He made some comment about how he can't wait to get sun because he's so pale. I was about to say, "Oh no you're not, your skin looks good," but then caught myself because that would sound borderline creepy. So instead, I giggled awkwardly, tripped over a couple of words and said way too excitedly (and with a kind of Popeye arm-swinging motion), "Oh you just gotta love that Vitamin D!" His response? A pity laugh. My response? A nice scarlet blush.

And I'm supposed to be a witty copywriter. Yikes. Thank goodness for erasers and backspace buttons, that's all I can say.

Barbie bites the dust

2009-03-08T19:43:00.008-05:00

After reading Cheryl's (of Confessions of a Twenty Something Year Old fame) post about a terrorizing Barbie story, it got me thinking about my own crazy doll-ridden past.

When I was little, I used to love dolls. I made up long, dramatic stories for them, played with their hair and picked out cute outfits. I used to sit in my bedroom and in the "Barbie Room" (my house had a music room (aka only a piano) and that's where all my Barbie stuff ended up, hence the name) for hours, talking out loud, making up stories and playing with myself.

Wow. Not like that. I was a good, innocent kid.

My first doll was my Pamela doll. In a creepy, high-pitched computerized voice she'd say things like "Do you want play with me?" and "You are my special friend."And when you pushed her stomach, she'd giggle hysterically. Ok wow, I just realized how incredibly creepy that sounds. No wonder I have an obliviously dirty mind if I was hearing things like that as a little kid. But for a girl named Pam, she was the obvious choice for me. Creepy doll or not, us Pams have to stick together. And I loved her until I painted her toes and fingers hot pink and tried to crimp her hair. What a disaster. She looked like white trash Pamela by the time I was finished with her. And her purple and green overalls sure didn't help...

After Pamela, I was all about Barbie dolls. I thought they were the greatest things ever. I had a huge pink and white Barbie mansion, complete with a huge front balcony, walk-in closets and pink windows, a silver Barbie Corvette convertible, and even a hot pink Barbie shower that pumped real water (that's just opening a whole can of weird-Barbie-play worms). I think at one time I had almost the whole gang—Barbie (including the super cool Rockstar Barbie with the pink hairspray), Skipper, Theresa, Stacey (she was my fav), Todd and Ken.

Alas, my poor Ken. Late one evening when I was in second grade, my brother (who was in 6th grade) needed to finish a diorama that was due the next day. Of course, it was last minute and he had to make something involving a mummy. When my Dad and brother couldn't find anything good to use as the actual mummy, they kindly asked me to use my Ken doll. I tearfully said no, but then had to sit through a whole lecture about what it means to be a family.

So that night, I watched through tears as my precious, hunky Ken doll was slathered up with glue and wrapped in cloth. It was a bit morbid actually. My brother promised he'd unwrap it when he got it back from the teacher so I could have him back, but he got an A+ on it (clearly due to Ken's good physique) and didn't want to destroy it. So sad. Luckily, my Mom let me pick out a new man doll and I soon became the proud owner of studly Prince Eric. Move over, Ariel. Barbie needs a new man.

I was all about my Barbie dolls for a long time. I used to sit up at night, thinking of wonderful stories of what Barbie could do the next day. It was a blast. And then one morning, I came downstairs early to play in my Barbie Room. I walked in the room, took one look at my precious Barbie dream house and screamed bloody murder.

My brother had taken 6 of my favorite Barbies and hung them all from the balcony and rafters of the dream house by little shoelace nooses.

I screamed and screamed and screamed some more. I really believed my beloved Barbies were dead. I woke up my whole family and threw a fit, while my brother just stood there laughing at me. Now he wasn't a morbid kid at all, but that was pretty dark. He got in big trouble and I was too afraid to play with my Barbies that day. Actually after that, I didn't play with them much at all. I was traumatized.

So then I moved on to American Girl dolls (the original Pleasant Company ones, thank you very much), which were way cooler by then. But that's a story for another day... Hope you all had a wonderful weekend!

P.S. RIP Samantha Parkington. She was my first and favorite American Girl doll and it's a shame they're "archiving" her. Who else will befriend Nellie and take a ride in handsome Uncle Gard's new car?!

The 100th. And my obliviously dirty mind.

2009-03-03T22:32:00.008-06:00

Well here we are. The one you've all been waiting for. The super duper 100th post. Can you believe it? I know I can't.

Cue Kool & The Gang's "Celebration" and cliche image of a celebratory cupcake:

I thought long and hard about how I could make this post "special". So I thought I'd share with you the funniest (in my opinion) story I have. Well, two short stories actually. I keep them locked tightly in my brain so as not to humiliate myself. But for you, dear readers, I'll gladly pull them out.

Both stories have one thing in common: my obliviously dirty mind. Without intending to, I say some really inappropriate things at really inappropriate times. If you look at me, you’d never expect it. I’m like a straight up prep monster (so, really preppy). I’m totally traditional, really shy about a lot of things and just a tiny bit naïve. So basically, I'm like a blonde-ish Charlotte York. And I think that’s why when people hear these stories, they're a bit shocked. And that's what probably makes them a bit more amusing, too.

A couple summers ago, I went out to stay with my boyfriend and his family at their home in Massachusetts. I was there for about a week and then my family was flying out for a week to vacation at the Cape. So on my last night with his family, his parents took us out for a really nice dinner. I had this amazing pineapple chicken meal that I was kind of obsessed with it. And I was determined to savor every last bit.

So as everyone finished eating, there was lull in the conversation. And in that quiet moment, I looked down and noticed I still had a piece of chicken left. My eyes lit up as I excitedly exclaimed,

“Oh, this little guy needs to come in my mouth right now!”

I kid you not. That is exactly what I said. Word for word. My boyfriend almost choked on his food. His kind, sweet, conservative parents pretended not to hear, but to this day, I think they wisely chose to ignore my outburst. I was so embarrassed. But at the same time, I was trying so hard not to laugh. I couldn’t even look at my boyfriend again for fear of causing a scene. So I sat staring down at the table, biting my lip and giggling quietly to myself. Yeah...I think his parents think I’m a bit of a head case.

So you would think after that embarrassing moment, I would learn to think before I speak. Not so much. 6 days later, I almost outdid myself.

By that time, my family has joined us out East and while we were all staying at the Cape, our families met up to go to a Red Sox game together. Unfortunately, it happened to be the hottest day of the year. The heat index was 112 that day and we were sitting in direct sunlight in the outfield. So needless to say, it felt like I was wrapped in tin foil and sitting in a sauna in a giant oven on the surface of the sun.

When the frozen lemonade vendor came around, I just had to have one. I didn’t even want to eat it, I just wanted to hold it. But of course, I cracked it open and shared it with my Dad. As we were eating it, my boyfriend leaned over and asked me how it was. I told him it was nice and cold and said,

“It feels so good, I just want to stick it between my legs.”

For a minute, I didn't realize what I had said. My Dad paused, gave me a funny look and then quickly decided to ignore my statement. He must have thought I was hallucinating in the heat or something. My boyfriend immediately burst out laughing, and once again, I wanted to die of embarrassment. I meant to say that the cold cup felt good against my skin…but yeah, there was no salvaging that one.

My lucky boyfriend got to witness both moments firsthand. He thinks they’re hilarious and LOVES to tell people. He regaled my cousins with the stories so now at every family gathering at least one person makes a hilarious joke about things coming in my mouth. Really classy, I know. My aunt and uncle had a field day with that one.

And he even told his coworkers. When I met some of them for the first time at a holiday party, one of them smiled and said, “I hear you really like pineapple chicken.” And then they ALL laughed. I was mortified. Not that I minded, it is quite funny. But still.

I'd like to say those are the only times I've made verbal slips, but that would be a lie. I won't even tell you about the time I commented out loud about the "huge pansies" in some city flower beds, only to notice (a bit too late) the gay men holding hands walking in front of me. I got a very dirty look for that one. Whoops!

So moral of the story: I need to think before I speak. And now I'm craving pineapple chicken again. Happy 100th everyone!

And in the most dramatic post in blogging history...

2009-03-02T18:08:00.008-06:00

The season finale of The Bachelor is on tonight and I'm ridiculously excited. Probably a little too excited. I mean, I've read all the spoilers and rumors already (yeah, I'm a cheater) and if those are correct, I already know what's going to happen. But I can't help it, I am a total sucker. Will he choose Molly? Will he break Melissa's heart? Will Jillian be the next Bachelorette? O.M.G. Way too much excitement.

I'm really not sure why I like this show so much. It's totally staged, the success rate of the couples is about 1.2% (love Trista and Ryan), and ABC edits it all so much that there's hardly anything left. Yet I still get sucked in every time. EVERY SINGLE show has "the most dramatic rose ceremony yet" or "the most romantic one-on-one date in Bachelor history" or the "most drawn out pre-commercial build up to ever appear on any show, anywhere in the world". It's amazing.

I wonder if the writers sit there with a giant Thesaurus next to them trying to think of new ways to say "dramatic" and "romantic". Oh wait, no they don't. That's how they describe every moment on the show. There really should be a drinking game for The Bachelor. Wow...that's actually a great idea. I bet I'd be passed out in my Snuggie before they even finished the "Here's what happened during the most dramatic season of The Bachelor ever" segment.

You just have to love Chris Harrison. He has the easiest and best job ever. Yes, he's the host of the show, but what does he really do besides those awesome, overly-dramatic, the-world-is-about-to-end voiceover previews? He stops in once in awhile just to say "hi" to The Bachelor and to of course kindly (and ever so dramatically) remind the girls that "this is the final rose". No kidding. Like those girls aren't staring at and obsessing over it as if their love lives depend on it.

Interestingly enough, my "prophesy" in my yearbook senior year in high school was that I am "most likely to be the next Bachelorette". While that didn't happen (they don't let 18-year-olds sign up. Lame.), I do wonder if I'd ever do it if I was older, single and dying to be on a reality TV show. I just think it would be kind of fascinating. Some of those dates are pretty cool. I'd love to jet off to New Zealand or fly over Las Vegas in a helicopter. Though I'm not sure I'd want all my family seeing me make out with handsome men in a hot tub on a nightly basis...hm.

Anyway, to anyone watching the show tonight, enjoy! And if you'd like to discuss it, I'm all for it. I'll just be sitting here with my glass of red wine, willing the endless number of commercials to end faster so I can get some more crazy drama on my plate.

P.S. Is anyone else really excited to see Late Night with Jimmy Fallon tonight? I love him...and his first guest, Justin Timberlake of course.

P.P.S. I don't get the Jonas Brothers. At all. They are no *NSYNC, I'll tell you that much.

P.P.S.S. What is Rihanna thinking?!

Damn you, lion.

2009-03-01T19:30:00.005-06:00

They say March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb. Apparently, this March is coming in like an angry, mean, windy, snowy, icy, frigid lion. I can only hope it will leave as a bright, sunny, green, springy, flowery, happy little lamb. Ha, not going to happen. You can't tame a crazy lion in only 31 days. At least not here.

This year, spring officially starts on March 20th. But here in Chicago, it doesn't actually feel like spring until mid-May. Sure the biting cold wind-chills die out in late March (hopefully), but we still get snow, freezing rain and pretty cold temps for another couple of months.

So you think I would know this after living in Chicago (and Milwaukee for college) my whole life. But yesterday, I found myself SO excited that today was March 1st. March is a sign of hope for me. It's a sign that the short, freezing days of winter are almost behind us and that spring is on its way.

This morning I woke up, jumped out of bed, ran to the window, threw open the shutters and peered into the depths of the early morning. Or more like...I crawled groggily out of bed, stumbled over to the window and tried to peek through the dusty blinds. And what did I see? A flippin' winter wonderland. Fluffy white snow swirling EVERYWHERE.

And of course, it was lake effect snow. Meaning it was coming straight off lake and only hitting small parts of the Chicagoland area. My boyfriend drove home and said that 10 minutes away from my apartment the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. My Mom up in the 'burbs couldn't believe it was snowing—she, too, was enjoying a nice, sunny day. I felt like I was in one of those cartoons where the little rain cloud sits over your head and follows you around all day. Bummer.

Oh well, at least it's already March. We've got to be at least a tiny bit closer to spring now, especially since Daylight Savings is next weekend. Isn't that crazy? It will be nice to have it stay lighter longer though. And it's definitely getting me excited for my vacation. I'm going in less than 3 weeks and I've already I've started to check out a bit. Whoops.

You ride that bike like a possessed gorilla

2009-02-26T19:22:00.006-06:00

I decided to hit up the gym after work today in my quest to get toned before I go to Aruba (23 days!) Since I've been under the spell of this ridiculously long lasting cold that seems to be going around, I decided to take it easy and go for a little ride on a stationary bike.

Despite my sore bum, I was having a nice time reading my book (which is so good by the way...it's "American Wife" by Curtis Sittenfeld) and enjoying the fact the no one was on the bikes around me.

And then this wannabe-exercise-guru guy sporting a sleeveless T-shirt (ew) came over and plopped down on the bike next to me. Now there were plenty of other bikes there, but he chose the one next to me...and the mirror (which I later realized).

So I was still pedaling away when I started to notice that this guy seemed to be going at it on his bike. He was jumping up and down, thrusting forward, grunting, breathing heavily etc.. It was really awkward. I tried to ignore him, but then I noticed him moving his arms about as if he was fist pumping. Oh yes, he was dancing. On his bike. At he gym. While looking in the mirror. And it wasn't long before he started singing along with his iPod out loud while smiling at his own reflection.

I didn't think it could get any better until he started flexing his muscles while he danced and gyrated on the bike. I burst out laughing. Luckily, I turned away before he noticed me looking (I didn't want to give him the attention he wanted). But then I could feel his sweaty little face turned toward mine, and could see that he was still going at it. I refused to look at him.

He started to sing louder and was practically flailing about on his bike, begging to be noticed. He looked like some kind of possessed beefed-up gorilla. I think he was about two seconds away from pounding his fists against his chest and letting out a Tarzan-like roar. Was he trying to mate with me? It sure seemed like it. (shudder)

As I was about to burst out laughing again, my bike beeped to let me know my time was up. I quickly hopped off and made a beeline for the mats in the back room before I could laugh in front of him.

Anyway, just had to share that. I love ridiculous people. Happy almost Friday, everyone!

Spread the love

2009-02-24T20:48:00.005-06:00

Last week, I was SO excited to see that I got my second award. And of course, I found out about this fabulous award during my sangria-induced haze (before passing out in the Snuggie), so I was extra excited. I believe I even gave a loud "whoop" when I read about it. James from On a Whim (love it!) gave me this little beauty:

So thank you, thank you, thank you a million times over. I love it! Getting these awards means so much to me. I love all my readers so much and the little comments you all leave always make my day. I still get so excited when I get the email telling me that someone has commented on a post. It's one of the best feelings in the world. So thank you. You guys are the best! (Yes, I know I seem excessively excited, but you'll have to excuse me. I've eaten my body weight in sugar today. Happy Fat Tuesday!)

So now I get to nominate ten blogs I love to receive the award. My ten (in no particular order) are:

and her heart it is in ireland

Confessions of a Twenty Something Year Old

The Everyday Adventures of Me in the City

I Love You More Than Carrots

Working Girl

So now it's your turn to spread the love. You must nominate ten blogs, link their blogs, and mention my blog in order to get this fabulous award.

Now on to a completely unrelated topic...I need your help. The other day I noticed my blog post count as I was looking through my blogger account and realized that I am almost to my 100th post. 100. Can you believe it? I know I can't.

So I feel like the 100th post is a big deal. When I started this blog, I thought I'd be lucky if I got to 20 before I gave up. But here I am, almost to 100. And I want to make it fun, exciting and a bit special. Now I'm not going to pop out my brother's blogger triplets like in the 100th episode of Friends, but I want to do something cool (for lack of a better word).

So my question to you is...what should I do? What do people do for their 100th? I'm still relatively new to the blogging world, so I just wanted to see what you guys think. Anything you want to know about me? Pictures you want to see? Funny stories you want to hear? Or something else entirely? Please let me know! I'd love to hear your suggestions. Thanks a million!

Hark! My beating heart hath no love for the opera.

2009-02-23T18:45:00.007-06:00

A few weeks ago, my friend and I decided on a whim to get tickets to the opera. We both had never been and had always wanted to go, so we decided to go to the show currently playing at the Lyric Opera House: Tristan und Isolde. Little did we know that it was a 5 hour show. Yes, 5 hours. And all in German (such a pretty language...or not).

Our big opera debut was last Friday night. I was excited, but also a bit scared. I was afraid I wouldn't like it and then be stuck there for the whole show. And my fears immediately came true as I quickly realized that opera is not for me. I was expecting it to be just like in Pretty Woman. I'd be Julia Roberts (minus the dazzling jewels, evening gown and studly date), and be caught up in the story, swept up in the beautiful words and bawl my eyes out over the power of the music. Yeah, not so much.

The story was...okay. The singing was nice, yes, but very boring. My friend and I laughed out loud a few times as we read the English subtitles that scrolled across the top of the stage. They were singing things like:

My beating heart is thumping in exaltation!

Hark! Heed the wary night which covers thou in its gentle, deceptive beauty.

My heart will perish without my beloved near my bosom

Ok so those weren't exactly what they said, but pretty darn close. It was hilarious. And the same things were said over and over and over again...they could have told that story in 20 minutes, did a little song and dance, and be done with it.

The first act was okay. But then the second act nearly did me in. As I sat there listening to Tristan and Isolde singing about how they would surely die if the other person died because the word "and" connects them forever, I really thought I was going to die of boredom. As I realized my friend fell asleep and I was alone in my suffering, I became fixated on the girl next to me who kept scratching her arm over and over and over again. It was sick. So I tried to tune her out by leaning my head back and counting the decorative vents over our seats (we were in the back, no worries).

As soon as the lights went on for the second intermission, my friend and I took one look at each other and decided we had to leave right then and there. So with two hours left in the show, we packed up our belongings and proudly strutted out of the opera house. I felt like a total dropout, but at least I was a dropout who could go home, get in her pjs and watch Good Will Hunting on TBS.

It's not that I don't appreciate the arts, I just don't think opera is my thing. I know eventually I'll go back and try again (maybe), but I think I need to try one that's like Opera for Dummies. Eh, we'll see.

Outside of my little burst opera bubble, I just had to share my experience from Saturday night. After a long night I climbed into my cab...and immediately discovered that my driver was singing. Loudly. And not in English. It's not like he was singing along to the radio. He was belting out a slow, soulful, spiritual song. I felt like I was intruding on a personal moment, so I tried to sit there as quietly as possible

Until I realized that my driver was on the phone. And the man on the other end of the bluetooth was harmonizing with him, singing just as loudly on his end. I nearly burst out laughing. (It reminded me of The Office when Andy had the guys from Here Comes Treble singing with him over the speakerphones.) But then he started singing in English and it really was a beautiful song. It was very soothing. When he dropped me off, I complimented him on his nice singing voice and he seemed shocked that I had heard him singing. I don't know how that surprised him since I was sitting about 8 inches from him, but oh well. Just another interesting cab ride here in Chicago!

Words from a One Drink Wonder

2009-02-19T21:23:00.006-06:00

Last night I went out for tapas and sangria with some of my friends. We had a fabulous time, but I accidentally drank a little too much. And by too much, I mean I had like 3 glasses of sangria. I am a total One Drink Wonder. One beer gets me buzzed. One glass of wine gets me drunk. One margarita makes me dance...A LOT (and not well). The only time I ever really had a decent tolerance was when I was in Ireland. Over there I drank Stella and Bulmers like they were going out of style.

So anyway, I got home last night around 9:15 and was completely zonked. I immediately felt inspired to write a blog post, so I sat down at my computer and started typing away. Except I really had no point and no idea where I was going with the post. So I decided to take a break, threw on my super comfy Snuggie, put on Top Chef...and passed out. I fell into a deep, deep, deep sleep.

I blame the Snuggie. It's just too damn snuggley and fuzzy. It's snuzzy.

So I woke up 4 hours later, rushed to get ready for bed and after chugging a gallon of water, I fell back to sleep. When I woke up this morning, I read over the attempted blog post and laughed out loud. I have no idea where I was going with it, but I thought I'd post it for you anyway:

Title: Sangria Tingles

After a lovely tapas dinner and two liters of fruitylicious sangria, my friend and I hit up the grocery store to pick up a few things. Corrrecton: She had to pick up a few things. I just stood there swaying in the breeze, giggling at the toilet paper and staring at the sparkly floor tiles. Did I mention that only two of us split the two liters of sangria? And that red wine gets me drunker than...ok well, really drunk. I can't even think of a metaphor right now. My mind keeps going to some kind of Dumbo/LSD reference, but that just doesn't seem right.

And besides, I'm super anti-drug. I mean, seriously, I was a finalist in the D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) essay contest at my grade school. How cool (and lame) am I? I got to read my super cool anti-drug essay in front of the whole school. Too bad 80% of my grade school classmates were/are addicted to drugs at some point. Way to go, kids. I actually don't talk to anyone from my grade school anymore...is that weird? I feel like I'm missing a chunk of my life sometimes.

Annnnnyway. As we were leaving out, this tall, skinny, bundled-up homeless man call out to us. He kept saying, "Miss, miss, please help me, I'm homeless."

Ok so yes, I felt bad, but we just kind of shuffled by him to the car. I get weird about that stuff...I just don't know what's real or not.

So as we walked by him, a guy came out of the store. The homeless man started chanting at him and the random man just said, "Oh man, the UFOs are going to get us! It's all the UFOs!"

The guy then walked by us, pointed right at us and said, "I hope you stay middle class."

Then he started mumbling about UFOs again and walked quickly toward his little Jetta. Yes, Jetta. How odd.

And that was where I stopped writing. I just found it amusing and thought you might, too. That grocery store thing really happened last night, but now it just feels like a dream. Weird.

Lying gets me all hot and bothered

2009-02-17T21:06:00.004-06:00

And not in a good way.

I cannot tell a lie. It's like I'm George Washington, only without the cherry tree. And the fancy powdered wig.

When I try to lie, my voice gets all high-pitched, I start to sweat, my eyes dart back and forth, and I tend to ramble on and on and one without making any sense at all.

Late yesterday morning I had a doctor's appointment in the suburbs. It was just an annual checkup, but one that I had to make 6 months in advance. She's like a celebrity doctor or something (Actually, she kind of is. A Chicago Bears player and his wife went into labor while I was there last time). You have to schedule appointments with her months and months in advance—it's crazy.

So my appointment was at 10:30am on a work day. I don't know what I was thinking when I scheduled it, but with really inconvenient train times back to the city, there was no way I was going to be able to make it in to work for even half a day. I had no personal days left and there was no way I was going to use a precious vacation day to sit in a waiting room...

I knew I had to take a sick day. I've never played hooky before, so I was pumped. I felt like such a badass. But as last week progressed, I got more and more nervous, especially after the dreaded layoffs. Starting on Tuesday afternoon, I had permanent knots in my stomach. I saw that I had projects due on Monday, I saw that everyone was super stressed and I kept trying to go over my "sick" excuse a million times.

Should I say I had food poisoning? A cold? Lack of sleep? Black lung? The plague? Ulcer? Ingrown toenail? Cramps? I was freaking out.

So when Friday rolled around, I was a wreck. I was SO nervous to tell a lie, especially to my boss. I felt like I was walking around with a huge dirty secret or something. My nerves kept building and building and building...

And before I knew was I was doing, I marched right into my boss's office late Friday afternoon and had an explosion of disgusting, nonsensical verbal vomit. In one long, run-on sentence, I told him that my doctor's office had just called to remind me of an appointment I had on Monday that I made 6 months ago and I just had to go to because I had to get something checked out and it's impossible to see her and I was going to call in sick and...

Yeah, that didn't sound sketchy at ALL. I was SO embarrassed. Luckily, he gave me the okay (along with a look that said, "why the hell didn't you just call in sick?") and I ran out of there like a scared little rabbit. And then I sat at my desk and hung my head in shame. Why the hell didn't I just tell a little white lie? It would have sounded better than the lame excuse (AKA the truth) that I came up with. God only knows what he thought I was really doing yesterday...

So I was out "sick" yesterday and when I came back today, every single person in my office asked how I was feeling. I forgot that people would notice my absence now that my office is tiny. And I didn't know what the heck to tell them. I told one girl I had to see my doctor, another guy I was too tired, a handful of people think I had a nasty cold and one guy is now wondering whether I had a run in with tainted peanut butter. Toward the end of the day, my reply was something like, "Oh you know...fine. Just one of those things, you know. Going around. Better now. Just the weekend, you know. Things like that." Completely vague. A total Michael Scott answer.

And that is why I completely suck at the game "Two Truths and a Lie".

Snuggie Love

2009-02-16T17:24:00.006-06:00

Ahh, sorry for being completely MIA for a while there. I spent all night Thursday making peanut butter bon-bons for my boyfriend, was up in Milwaukee all weekend and then was up at my parents' house last night and just got back a half hour ago....phew! I somehow managed to squeeze in two big shopping sprees (swimsuits, books, gym shoes, eek!), a trip to see Confessions of a Shopaholic, a Mariokart marathon, some quality time with the bf, another Marquette basketball game, a couple of crazy nights out, a plate of green eggs and ham, and a trip to the doctor. Yikes bikes.

And great news! As of this weekend, I am a very proud owner of a Snuggie (feel free to laugh). Yep, my boyfriend surprised me with a red Snuggie AND book light (free with purchase, of course) for Valentine's Day. He even bought himself one to match. Hilarious, right? I have to admit, they are ridiculously comfortable. I napped in mine on Saturday and it was probably the best nap of my life.

Over the last few days I've realized that I am absolutely incapable of telling a lie (a story for another time), I'm developing some kind of food allergy (not sure what though), I'm terrible at Mariokart on the Wii and that you guys have really interesting stories. So thanks for sharing!

And is it sad that I love Mondays because of The Bachelor? It's such a terrible show, but I love

every single overly-dramatic second. I can't even wait...

UPDATE:

I suppose I couldn't write about the Snuggie without posting some pictures. Silly me. So I tried to show off just how true some of the claims from the Snuggie infomercial really are:

Oh my goodness, you really can read a book and still keep your arms warm! Thank God.

Yes, it's true. You can use your hands to talk on the phone, use the computer, eat a snack, brush your hair, whatever AND still stay warm. Is there anything you can't do in a Snuggie?

I think not.

If you haven't seen the infomercial, you need to watch it now:

You can even hold a baby? (gasp) It's a Snuggie miracle.

I'll show you mine if you show me yours

2009-02-11T21:27:00.005-06:00

So out of a little bit of tiredness, a pinch of laziness and a whole lot of writer's block, I'm all about an interactive post tonight. Sounds fun, right? Basically, I'll tell you something interesting/odd/bizarre about myself, if you tell me something interesting about yourself. It could be something funny, a random fact, a little story, a tasty tidbit...anything. I always read your comments at work and it keeps me entertained throughout the day. And this week, I could definitely use some entertainment.

With that said, I now present to you:

My Opposable (Man) Thumb Toes

Check out those monstrosities. Aren't they glorious? Eh, not so much. These little beauties are constantly getting noticed, as in "Wow, Pam, your toes are HUGE!" Yes, I'm well aware, thank you. I used to be embarrassed about them because they really look like men's thumbs, but now I embrace them. Freshman year of college I realized that I could pick up a pen with my toes and write with them (My roommate and I were always looking for ways to procrastinate.) I soon discovered that I could give a double "thumbs up" with them, pick up beer mugs and bottles with them, and type with them. It was pretty cool.

Sure, they sometimes make buying shoes a bit difficult...they even reshaped a pair of round-toe shoes. Yep, now they're square-toed. Fun, huh?

Oddly enough, I HATE feet. I get soooo grossed out by them. But for some reason, my own big toes really fascinate me. I know I don't have "pretty" feet, but at least I have them. And they provide a nice big canvas for bright pink nail polish. And hey, my opposable thumb toes make for an interesting "hidden talent".

Ok so there's my little tidbit. What's yours?

Lookin' on the bright side

2009-02-10T22:27:00.005-06:00

Today was rough. It was like someone sucked all the life out of my office. Everyone walked around, heads hanging low, trying not to look at the 5 now empty cubicles. A few of the people who were laid off came back late last night to clean out there desks, leaving only the random highlighters and stray papers strewn about. It's so depressing. And since my two cubicle neighbors are now gone, it's like working in a graveyard.

The office is silent, somber and altogether sucky. And after our company meeting this morning in which we were told how terrible our situation (tied together with the economy) really is, no one felt like doing anything.

So while I sat there completely unmotivated today, I started looking ahead to the fun things I have coming up to cheer myself up.

Valentine's Day—Though not my favorite holiday (sorry, Hallmark), I do love spending time with my boyfriend. And I finally get to see him again this weekend after a very long two weeks. Not only that, it's also our 3-year anniversary. Wow. 3 years. That's a long time...

The Opera—I'm looking forward to this out of sheer amusement and curiosity. My friend and I both wanted to get tickets to the opera since neither of us had ever been before. So she looked up and saw that Tristan and Isolde was playing in Chicago and went ahead and bought tickets...without realizing how long it was. It's 5 HOURS. 5! We both agreed if we get too bored/antsy/tired, we'll sneak out and go to a bar. Sounds like a plan to me.

St. Patrick's Day—I LOVE St. Paddy's Day. Next to Christmas, it's my absolute favorite holiday. It's an entire day dedicated to all things Irish, what's not to love? You get to wear lots of green (I do every day anyway), blast Irish music and drink green beer all day. It's the best. And usually, my office closes down that day and we all head to an Irish pub with clients to drink all day. Unfortunately, with the layoffs, it looks like that might not be happening this year. Such a bummer.

Aruba—We leave March 21st and I can't even wait. The beautiful weather today reminded me of how much I love being out in the warm sunshine. It's going to be amaaaazing. I can't stop looking at pictures of all the beaches and palm trees there...

Plus, I have a bunch of friends' birthday coming up, a visit from my boyfriend's parents, a high school reunion, a book/wine club meeting and some fantastic Marquette basketball games thrown in, too. All before April.

Despite the work situation, it looks like I'm finally crawling my way out of the winter slump and I couldn't be more excited about it. Must be all that sunshine I got today!

A big, fat reality check

2009-02-09T22:21:00.004-06:00

I know the economy is bad. Really bad. But it's never really affected me before. I watch the news and see how terrible things are and how high the unemployment rate is, but I thought I was safe in my little Chicago copywriting bubble.

Until today.

My company laid off 5 people this afternoon. For an office of only 22 people, that is a huge loss. Luckily, I was spared for now, but I feel completely shaken. This is the first time I've lived through a layoff and it's devastating. It was so sad saying goodbye to my coworkers. I felt guilty that I still had my job and so sad that I wouldn't get to see them on a daily basis anymore. I only really got to say goodbye to two of them—the others fled as soon as they heard the news.

I think I'm just in shock that this happened. I feel so lucky that I get to my keep my job, but it's so bittersweet. On one hand I'm relieved, but on the other hand I'm really unnerved. I still can't believe it. We have a company meeting first thing tomorrow to get the "official" word of what's going on. I'm not looking forward to it.

This is going to be a long week...but hey, at least it's going to be "hot" tomorrow—over 60 degrees!

If my life had a soundtrack, I hope this wouldn't be it.

2009-02-08T20:56:00.005-06:00

I had a pretty rough morning today, starting with my smoke detector alerting me that it had a low battery at 7am. It beeped once every minute and a woman's voice shouted "BATTERY LOW". It kept going off over and over and over again. With a headache from hell and very little sleep, I was ready to jump out the window. When I tried to turn it off, it went through a test and started beeping at warp speed and screaming, "WARNING! CARBON MONOXIDE! FIRE, FIRE! GET OUT NOW!" Yeah, it was awesome. I had to crawl out of my apartment and go to CVS to get a new flippin' battery. Ugh.

So I felt a bit off all day. And because of that, I'd love to do my weekend recap tomorrow, when I'm all happy Monday is over and I'm pumped to watch The Bachelor.

But for right now, I figured it was the perfect day to figure out my life soundtrack. I found it on zentiment and thought it might be fun. I had to start it a few times because I kept getting Christmas music and it was messing me up.

How it works:

Each “question” you have to answer with a song
1. Open your iPod/iPhone/iTunes music library
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For the first question, type the song that’s playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button twice

My Life Soundtrack

Opening Credits: "All The Things I've Done" The Killers
Waking Up: "Do You Want To" Franz Ferdinand
First Day at School: “Ruby" Kaiser Chiefs

Falling in Love: “Love and Memories" O.A.R.
Losing Virginity: “Senorita" Justin Timberlake
Fight Song:      “Romeo and Juliet" Dire Straits
Breaking Up: “Angel" Sarah Mclachlan
Matric farewell / Prom: “Ring of Fire" Johnny Cash
Life:   “Pencil Thin Mustache" Jimmy Buffett
Mental Breakdown:   “White Shadows" Coldplay
Driving:   "Kite" U2
Flashback:   “No One" Alicia Keys
Getting Back Together: “Dirt Off Your Shoulder" Jay-Z
Wedding:   "Push" Matchbox Twenty
Birth of Child:   “City of Blinding Lights" U2
Final Battle:   "Last Train Home" Ryan Star
Death Scene: “Single Ladies" Beyonce

Wow, I didn't even know I had half those songs on my iPod. Matchbox Twenty as my wedding song? Really? At least I'm going out with a bang. Dying to Beyonce? Yikes. This is a really depressing soundtrack...

I think my real theme song is "Piña Colada in a Pint Glass" by Gaelic Storm. It's so...me.

Exhibit A:
"She wants a piña colada in a pint glass...
She wants to be where the summer won’t stop,
She wants gin clear water and milk white sand,
A sunburned nose and a drink in her hand
With a pink umbrella on top."

They might as well have said "Pam" instead of "she". Plus, it's Irishy and beachy. Amazing.

I'm going to sparkle like the Cullens in the sun

2009-02-07T00:22:00.003-06:00

Tomorrow night I'm going to Snowball, an annual charity event for Children's Memorial Hospital. It's thrown by the Hospital's Junior Council, so it's basically a big party/dance for young professionals. I went last year and it was pretty fun. I just like getting dressed up...

So naturally, I want to look my best. I'm finally getting my hair cut tomorrow, I borrowed this amazing dress from my coworker and I'm even getting my makeup done with a friend (I need to stock up on stuff anyway...). The only minor hiccup is my almost-transparent skin. It hasn't seen the sun in months.

I'm not one to go tanning, especially in the winter, because it looks ridiculous to be tan in February in Chicago. But since my dress shows lots of skin, I thought I'd try out a self-tanner. So I headed to Sephora during my lunch today and quickly remembered why I hate that place. The salespeople are so rude!

I had to wait quite awhile until someone helped me. And even then, when I finally asked someone, she acted like I was disturbing her. Here is how our conversation went:

Me: Excuse me, do you have a minute?

Sephora Woman: (sigh) I'll have to make one.

Me: I'm looking for a good self-tanner. I'm pretty pale...

SW: (laughs) Honey, you're not just pale, you're porcelain.

Me: Yeah I guess, so I'd like one that could look natural.

(SW went on to explain how best to use it, etc.)

Me: Well, I'm planning to use this tomorr...

SW: Oh honey, don't do it! Don't.

Me: But I have an event...

SW: I'll tell you what will happen. You'll put in on all wrong, you'll totally mess it up, you'll get it on your clothes, you'll streak it all over the place and then you'll end up crying your eyes out and having your entire night ruined. It will be a disaster.

Me: (silently staring at her, completely taken aback, mouth hanging open)

SW: Don't do it. Your pale skin is fine.

Me: Ok...well...

(SW clearly sees that I'm a bit offended.)

SW: Well, wait I have something else that might work. (She starts to lead me across the store)

SW: Might I add that you have big green eyes?

Me: Eh...yeah, I do.

(SW glances down at my dry, chapped hands)

SW: Oh my! What happened to your hands? They look terrible. Don't you moisturize?

So long story short (ok, not really), the woman really frustrated me. First my skin (I know, porcelain skin isn't bad), then my ability to put lotion on myself, then my hands. I appreciate her advice about not getting a self-tanner, but she went about it the wrong way. Instead of being helpful, she insulted me.

But in the end, she ended up selling me this "tan enhancing lotion", AKA oil spray with tiny bronze glittery sparkles that gives my skin a nice glow.

So now my porcelain skin will sparkle in the light...just like the Cullens. I'm going for the vampire-sexy look tomorrow night. So fierce.

The Office is back.

2009-02-05T21:18:00.005-06:00

Thank goodness, I've really missed it.

Tonight's episode was hilarious. After a pretty lame season so far (seriously, what was with that horrible holiday episode?) , it was nice to laugh out loud again. I was dying when they showed Dwight's "It is your birthday."sign and the brown and black floppy balloons. And when Pam threw the Mounds Bars out during Michael's speech? So funny.

But what was really funny was the "winter" scenery in the background. Despite the piles of fake snow strategically placed on the ground and cars splashed with fake salt stains and mud, it was hard to miss the healthy green grass and the blooming, leafy trees. Everything looked so alive. Ha. I wish winter looked like that. If you live in a warm climate, you're so lucky.

But, big news! It's supposed to be 50 here this weekend. I can't even wait. I bet ten bucks I'll see someone in shorts. No joke. I'm just excited to put my down jacket away for a few days and bust out my "lighter" winter coat. It's a heat wave!

The day I trekked across Chicago...and back again

2009-02-04T19:48:00.005-06:00

I'm so glad today is over. I literally went all over the city searching for a special type of portfolio for a presentation. Did I know what I was looking for? Nope. It was like "Where's Waldo" without knowing what the hell Waldo looks like.

My day started like any other normal day. I got to work, went to my morning meeting and grabbed a Starbucks. As I walked back in from my coffee run, the art director was yelling my name from the associate creative director's office. I went straight in there and was informed that since I wasn't busy today (according to my boss), I was to run around the city doing errands for the big new business presentation that had to get finished today.

I was a bit annoyed. Perhaps if they would have asked me, I would have told them that I did in fact have a huge copy project due tomorrow that I had barely started on. But no, I couldn't say anything, so I put a little smile on my face, grabbed some petty cash, signed off of Gchat and set off on my adventure.

5 cab rides, 4 blank stares from salespeople, 3 calls to the art director and 2 hot flashes from running in and out of the cold with my heavy coat on later, I arrived back at work with four different options for the one type of portfolio I was supposed to find. No one had actually seen the type of thing I was looking for, they just thought they knew it existed.

And guess what? None of them worked.

So I was sent back out after I scarfed down a quick Lean Cuisine. I was told to try Staples and this time I decided to walk. I knew it would be a fruitless effort. No way would Staples carry it. But as I walked into the store and started to wander down the aisles, I had an idea. It was like one of those lightbulb over the head moments.

The art director had vaguely mentioned something about the portfolio I was looking for having something to do with photos. So I whipped out my iPhone (I'm obsessed), searched for camera stores and found one only a block from where I was. I quickly walked over there and found one of the shadiest buildings in Chicago. It was totally unmarked, the lobby was all torn up (not for a remodel), there were light fixtures and wires hanging from the ceiling and random puddles on the floor. It was straight out of a horror movie.

Needless to say, the camera shop I found nestled somewhere on the 5th floor of that building wasn't what I needed, but the guy did point me in the right direction...to a store about 6 blocks away.

So I finally found the real camera store and found what I needed instantly. It was exactly what the art director described. I hopped in a cab, raced back to the office and was welcomed back as a hero. Ok, not really. But they were pretty happy.

It was late afternoon by then and I still hadn't worked on my project. And today was a day I had to leave at 5 on the dot to make it to my haircut appointment at 6.

But 5 rolled around, things still needed to be proofread and the creative team (AKA my team) was busy finishing the new biz presentation. When it started getting later, I apologized to my coworkers, ignored their dirty looks, said I had to go get a haircut, put on my coat and left.

When I got outside, another lightbulb went off in my head. What the hell was I doing? I was totally cutting out early for a haircut (yikes, pun) and I felt really guilty. I didn't know what to do. So naturally, I called my Mom and asked for advice. After a 10-second debate, I called my hair place and rescheduled. (Sigh). My hair will have to wait until Saturday.

I ran back upstairs and though my coworkers surprised, I could tell that they were happy I hadn't bailed. And two hours later, the job was done and we all went home. I was really proud of myself for getting everything done today. But I don't know why I didn't think of rescheduling earlier. Yikes.

A loss for words

2009-02-03T22:12:00.004-06:00

I have no clue what to write about tonight.

Usually I can come up with something semi-interesting, but I have a serious case of writer's block. All day I was trying to think of something good to say. Actually, I've probably spent a little too much time blog-dreaming today.

For awhile, I thought I'd talk about my annoyances with public transportation, but everyone seems to write about that and I don't want to sound all whiney.

So then I thought I'd tell you more about myself. I even briefly considered doing the 25 Things list that is spreading like wildfire on Facebook, but I'm not sure I could think of 25 "interesting" things. Sure, I could tell you about my opposable thumb toes, the real reason I love green so much, or how my boyfriend and I REALLY met (not many people know the real story), but eh. Another time, another place.

When I got back from Pilates tonight, I was going to write about the engaged couple who didn't get to class on time and had to sit on separate mats across the room and then kept staring at each other in the mirror the whole class. Awkward. Or how I realized that I really must be the world's worst judge of age because I was convinced that this one girl I see every week was 16. But nope, today I finally noticed her big fat wedding ring. She must have been 12 when she got married, seriously.

Well, look at that! A whole post about nothing! Phew. Good cover, Pam.

I'll write about something real tomorrow...like maybe about my new haircut I'm getting after work tomorrow night. (Jagger bomb! Jagger bomb!) Wow, I just gave a shout out to a YouTube video. Oh boy.

You learn something new every day...and weekend

2009-02-02T18:35:00.008-06:00

I had a wonderfully busy weekend. I could probably write pages and pages on all I said, did, watched, drank, played, ate, etc, but I'll spare you that. Instead, I'll give you a nice little list of things I learned this weekend:

• Sleepovers with your grandma are a ton of fun, no matter how old you are.

• If your grandma tells you to stay awake through "The Glenn Miller Story" (a 1954 movie starring Jimmy Stewart), you better stay awake.

• Jimmy Stewart will always be George Bailey.

• Marquette basketball games are amazing. Especially when they win.

• Taking 6 shots in a row is only a good idea if they're all tasty...like Baby Guinesses, Love Triangles and Buttery Nipples. Yum.

• If it's 10pm, you've been out since 1pm and you need a change of scenery, hit up a 24/7 karaoke bar. It's sure to be classy.

• And at this karaoke bar, it's especially fun to belt out Bon Jovi like a total rockstar, even if the drag queens in the corner lean over and tell your boyfriend that you suck. (He laughed. I did not.)

• Don't pick fights with drag queens.

• Cooking burgers on the grill in the middle of winter is fantastic, as long as you don't let yourself forget that it's still 20 degrees outside.

• Sometimes it's so nice to kick back and relax at your parents' house.

• The Super Bowl commercials this year? Not that good. The Office? Hilarious.

So how was your weekend? Do anything fun? Any good stories? Feel free to entertain me with amusing anecdotes. Tuesdays are my least favorite day of the week so I appreciate any little bright spots that come my way.

Oh, and Happy Groundhog Day everyone! Thank goodness groundhogs are cute, because otherwise I'd like to dropkick those little suckers for always seeing their shadows. Damn you and your 6 more weeks of winter!

I kid, I kid...I love animals. I cry harder in movies when animals get injured/hurt/die than when humans do. Is that bad?

I love a good movie

2009-01-29T21:55:00.006-06:00

And Slumdog Millionaire is definitely one of those. I just got back from seeing it and I loved it! If you haven't seen it yet, you need to go. It's so good.

I think you guys may be right. I think I might have a touch of Seasonal Affective Disorder since I only ever feel this way during the long, cold, dark, grey, icy winter months. Ick. Bring on the sunlight! I'll read up on it for sure. And thanks for the kind words everyone, you definitely put some pep in my step today.

So tomorrow is finally Friday. Thank goodness. I'm really excited about this weekend.

Tomorrow night I'm going to my Grandma's house for a sleepover party with my brother and sister. My Grandma has never had an "official" sleepover before (even though we used to stay over all the time), so for Christmas, that's what we gave her. We're heading over to her house right after work and making her a big spaghetti dinner and then we're going to get into our pajamas, cuddle up on the couch and watch the movies of her choice. She was so excited about it that she even went out and bought new afghans so we can each have maximum coziness. It sounds so relaxing...I can't even wait.

Then Saturday morning I'm getting up bright and early and heading up to Milwaukee for the Marquette vs. Georgetown game with my two friends. So that will be fun...and I finally get to see my boyfriend again after 3 long weeks. Hooray!

And Sunday I'm heading to my parent's house to see them since they just got back from Barbados and we'll hang out and watch the Super Bowl. I really only care about the commercials. For a total advertising nerd like me, this is one of my favorite nights of the year. I could care less about the actual game (confession: I don't even know who is playing in it this year), I just love the fun ads.

Oh and sidenote, I am SO excited that they ousted Governor Blagojevich. What an embarassment to Illinois. I mean seriously, how the hell did he actually get in office? He's crazy. I certainly didn't vote for him, I can tell you that much...yikes.

Is it Friday yet?

2009-01-28T20:02:00.005-06:00

Nope, definitely not.

This week makes me want to scream. It's been frustrating, annoying and very stressful. It doesn't help that I'm run down, overtired and feel like I'm on pins and needles every second of every day.

And of course, I was pretty hungover this morning. Last night was a total blast though, so it was definitely worth it.

Work has been crazy lately, but usually I'm able to stay positive and tackle it head on with a smile on my face. But this week is different. It's like I'm completely checked out and I can't figure out why.

I feel like I'm having a mini quarter-life crisis—much like I've had the last few winters. For a couple of weeks at the end of January/beginning of February, I get really antsy. It's like I want to escape my life. I start questioning everything and all of a sudden I become obsessed with traveling and getting away. Last year I was determined to move to South Carolina or Florida...after I went on a 6-week trip to Australia and New Zealand, of course. And this year, I desperately want to move back to Ireland, vacation in Greece and spend a few weeks in Italy. (Apparently money doesn't factor into my daydreams.)

I feel really restless. Why? I have no idea. But I can't stop wondering about my life. Do I love my job? Am I good at my career? Do I want to move? Do I want to go to grad school? Could I actually make it on my own somewhere else? Would I miss Chicago? What do I want? Am I happy?

It's all been bugging me this week. And while I do question things sometimes, it's never as bad as this. If it's anything like the last few years, I know it will pass in a couple weeks. But right now, it's driving me crazy.

I'm sure I'll be back to my perky, enthusiastic self in a few days. In the mean time, I'll just load up on Starbucks and M&Ms and keep looking at pictures of Aruba (I can't wait!).

Drink away the blues

2009-01-28T00:56:00.002-06:00

I had a terrible day today. And while I think all Tuesdays in general are rough, this one was particularly bad. It was one of those days I found myself on the verge of tears, wondering why I was still in my profession.

And then I went out. My old coworkers from my internship in Milwaukee took me out. And we had a blast. Could this really be another drunken post in the span of a week? Absolutely. My apologies. I'm really normally not like this...buuuuuuut you know.

I thought the 7 of us were going out for a drink, but it turned into several drinks, then dinner and wine at a really nice Italian restaurant, then drinks and dancing at a nightclub (yeah, that's right, I actually went to a club). It was a blast. And I am so ready to pass out right now...

But there's one thing I have to say. As my terrible day progressed and I read all the comments about me being sweaty, I thought to myself, "Pam! Why the hell would you write that about yourself!?". God only know the mental image you all have of me now. It's probably quite funny, actually...but anyway, I think yesterday's post was a bit too graphic (no one wants to hear about hives), so I'm sorry for that.

Alright seriously, I need sleep. Tomorrow is a HUGE day for damage control at work. Ugggggh.

I'm as athletic as The Hills is real

2009-01-26T21:18:00.009-06:00

So, not so much.

As I was working my little bum off on the elliptical this evening, I contemplated why I didn't do it more often. And then I remembered that I don't like it.

I'm not one of those people who look "cute" when they work out. I don't think it's fun or feels good. It makes me feel gross—like a giant, sweaty, heavy-breathing exercise monster. And to top it off (and this is going to sound so sexy, I know), I'm allergic to my own sweat. So that means by the end, I'm covered head to toe (face included) in hives. It's SO hot, let me tell you.

So while I do love Pilates and can tolerate the occasional elliptical excursion, I do not like working out. My whole family LOVES to run. Not me. I'm pretty much the exercise-despising black sheep. Perhaps it's because my two years doing crew in high school nearly did me in or maybe it's because I've never been athletic. Ever.

Growing up, I tried pretty much every sport there is:

Crew—I loved crew. The feeling of being in the boat, cutting through the crisp, clean water ahead...amazing. But the land work on the erg? It was my hell. The second year I was on the team, we got a new coach who wouldn't let us stop running/erging/rowing until we all puked. Being on the team was no longer fun—it was like a punishment. I was sad when I decided not to stay on the team after my second year, but I know I made the right decision for me.

Tennis—Tried it when I was 7. I lied and said I was 8 to be with my best friend. We were kicked out of class repeatedly because we used to goof off and laugh too much. Yeah, I was a total badass. Too bad my Mom was really in to tennis at the time...I think she's still a bit ashamed of me for getting kicked out. Oops.

Basketball—I played 3rd grade through 6th grade. I was absolutely terrible. In 5th and 6th grade when we were finally "competitive", I probably played a total of 2 minutes for BOTH years. My friend and I used to be "bench buddies" and had a great time cheering for our team. Then the coach realized she was actually good and played her all the time. And I was alone and bored and still bad at basketball, so I stopped playing.

Soccer—I played when I was 5. I was the little girl who spaced out, sat in the grass and picked dandelions. I used to like it when people got hurt (terrible, I know) because that meant I got to sit down and resume my flower picking. How dare the ref blow his whistle and interrupt me! I was making necklaces, you jerk!

Indoor Soccer—Yep, I even tried this one year. I played in one game only and accidentally scored two goals. My crush at the time (and all through grade school actually) gave me a high five and I nearly melted. But in the immortal words of Clueless, I wasn't into activities where "balls fly at my nose", so I stopped after one season

Gymanstics—HA. I did it for a year when I was 6...and I still couldn't figure out how the hell to do a cartwheel. I just wanted to jump in the flippin' pit of foam blocks, like any other normal, uncoordinated kid.

Volleyball—I loved it. I played 6th through 8th grade and I really thought it was my sport. When I got to high school, I was so pumped to try out for it. I just knew I'd make the team. But when it came to the last day, I was cut. CUT. Out of all the girls who tried out, only two of us were cut. The other unfortunate girl was a chubby know-it-all who arrived late everyday clutching a greasy Burger King bag and would sit in the stands and eat it before she worked out. Needless to say, I was devastated.

So while I know running and working out numerous times a week is the "right" thing to do, it takes extra effort for me to get motivated. At least now that I love Pilates (and the occasional chunk of time on the elliptical), I'm more in shape than I was last year. And I'm hopefully one step closer to having my Aruba-ready beach bod. Ha.

And if you ever see me in the gym, please don't stare at the hives on my face. I already know how sexy they are.

Need my Starbucks fix

2009-01-23T22:14:00.007-06:00

Today was Starbucks Day. I love Starbucks Day.

Ok so I make it sound way more fun than it actually is. Starbucks Day is actually Friday in disguise.

Every Friday my coworkers and I head to the Starbucks downstairs to load up on our favorite drinks. It's our way to treat ourselves after a long work week. Sounds pretty lame, yes, but I get really excited about it every week.

When I first started working and realized that every day for the rest of my life I'd be forced to go to work (I had major post-graduation blues), Starbucks was my little retreat every morning. I didn't live in the city yet, so I had an hour and a half commute from my parents' house in the suburbs each day. I took cars, trains, buses and boats. Sounds like a blast, doesn't it? (Actually the boat was fun) So I used to go to Starbucks every morning and cradle my lovely, familiar caffeinated friend as I headed into the dreaded working world that awaited me.

And then I moved downtown. And I realized I had to pay for everything on my own. Groceries. Bills. Laundry. Lunches. And with all those expenses, Starbucks just couldn't make the cut. So like any addiction, I had to cut back slowly. From 5 a week to 4 to 3 to 2...and now to 1.

So every Friday at 9:15am I march right over to Starbucks, clutching my little Gold Card (Thanks Santa!) and order my Skinny Vanilla Latte (I miss PSLs and GingerSnap Lattes SO much). Oh and good news! The barista knows my name now. Thank goodness I have my identity back.

Alright wow, I just wrote a whole post about Starbucks (not that it's a bad thing, obviously). I think I need some new material to write about. Does anyone have any questions? Things you would like to know about me? Stories you'd like me to tell? I'll go do some brainstorming...

Oh look! An award!

2009-01-22T19:46:00.006-06:00

You like me! You really like me!

zentiment gave me my very first blog award yesterday and I couldn't be more excited. Thank you again! I feel like I've finally "arrived" in the blogging world. Hooray!

The rules of the award:

1) Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.

2) Show the 7 winners' names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with "Honest Scrap." Well, there's no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.

3) List at least 10 honest things about yourself.

So first, my 7 blogs (in no particular order) are:

Working Girl

Rachieann.com

And her heart it is in ireland

Golightly

The everyday adventures of me in the city

In good taste

Average20Something

And now I have to list 10 "honest" things about myself. I feel like I'm confessing my deepest secrets to the blog world...oh wait, I am.

1. I tell people I'm deathly allergic to seafood. I've even been known to request that my food not be prepared with/near/around seafood due to my "allergy". It's a lie. I just really, really, really hate seafood—ALL of it (especially shrimp and tuna). I can't stand the sight or smell of it. Who knows, maybe I am slightly allergic...my hatred started when I was 6 and was violently ill from eating shrimp. Eh, probably not.

2. I yelled at a pregnant woman once. Yes, I know, that's not very nice, but in my defense it was on an airplane after she had just THROWN UP all over me. She was sitting behind me, across, the aisle, yet somehow managed to aim right for my head, pants, neck, carry-on bag, etc. It put a bit of a damper on my high school spring break trip with my friends as I was COVERED in vomit. I overreacted a bit and started screaming and then turned around, looked at her and yelled, "THAT'S WHAT BARF BAGS ARE FOR!" The flight attendant quickly hauled me to the back of the plane and washed my hair in the airplane bathroom sink. Not my finest moment and now I feel very bad for getting mad when she really couldn't help it.

3. Yes, I'm a bit of a drama queen. Well, more like I'm a really big over-reactor.

4. I love the MTV show Made. And I would really love to be on it, despite the fact that I'm not socially awkward and in high school. I used to want to go on it for running (I'm the only one in my fam who doesn't like to run), but now I want to go on it to learn to play the violin. Playing the violin is my (not so) secret dream.

5. I have an older brother and sister who I'm very close to, but I've just recently realized that I've always done things differently than them. They went to the same summer camp, same college, moved to the same Chicago neighborhood, etc. Without realizing it (until now), I've always chosen a different path...different college, different camp, different 'hood. I always thought I'd do things just like them but when it comes down to it, I don't. And I'm not sure why.

6. I tend to be a jealous person. I'm really, really trying to work on it, but sometimes that little green envy monster jumps up and bites me. I need to learn to tame that little sucker.

7. I have a really warped body image.

8. To me, long conversations on public transportation are unforgivable, Yes, I understand checking in with home or saying you're running late, but catching up with a long lost friend or bitching about work is not okay. It's rude to everyone around you and it makes me really angry. Sometimes I am so tempted to grab the phone of their hand and throw it out the window. In the words of Stephanie Tanner, "How rude!"

9. I'm moving to Milwaukee in 6 months to be closer to my boyfriend. That's the first time I've officially admitted that to myself and it makes me really, really scared/nervous/anxious/excited. Ah!

10. I flirted with OCD as a kid. I used to go around my house every night obsessing over things being locked, unplugged, etc. It was bad. I kicked the habit eventually, but even now I get all quirky about making sure doors are locked at night, alarm clocks are set, etc.

11. I have irrational fears of people riding their bikes with no hands, jellyfish (even though I had never seen a real one before last summer), when airplanes turn (don't ask), fire and tornadoes.

Oh wow, 11!

Wine is divine

2009-01-21T22:30:00.005-06:00

So I had every intention of coming home tonight and whipping out a fabulous post. I received my first ever blog award today from zentiment and I couldn't be more excited about it. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

But I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit tipsy right now. My three friends and I want to Tango Sur, an amazing BYOB Argentinean restaurant here in Chicago, and we had a bottle of wine...but only two of us were drinking, so naturally we had to polish the bottle off. So yeah, I'm a wee bit tipsy.

And right now, I feel like I can't do my intended post, the award post, justice. It will be coming tomorrow, I promise. But for now, I'm going to finish up my DVR'd Top Chef, guzzle down some water, and head to bed. See you all tomorrow! And thank you again!

President Obama is the bee's knees

2009-01-20T20:54:00.010-06:00

Ok, it's official. I have a huge crush on the first family.

President Obama (woohoo) and the new First Lady are amazing. I loved watching them all day, from leaving their hotel first thing this morning, to taking the oath of office, to their dances at the inaugural balls. They just seem so in love, don't they?

And Malia and Sasha? So cute. I loved that Malia had her digital camera the whole time and was taking pictures of everything. Aww...it will be fun to have kids in the White House now.

I loved everything about today. I woke up SO excited that it was Inauguration Day. I watched the coverage this morning and had to unwillingly pry myself from my TV to go to work. As soon as I got there, I jumped on CNN to watch the live CNN/Facebook feed. (Facebook? Weird.) No one at work really mentioned much about the Inauguration (besides some of them making fun of the people standing out in the snow watching the big screen outside of the Tribune Tower...where I secretly wanted to be), so I was kind of bummed that I'd have to watch it alone.

At 10:30am, I went into the kitchen and noticed a few of my coworkers already sitting on the chairs and couches in front of the TV, watching all the coverage. I was shocked. But I plopped down next to them anyway and before I knew it, EVERY single person I work with (about 20 or so) was gathered in the kitchen to watch the Inauguration. It was a really cool experience. We all have very different views and opinions, yet we all bonded together to watch history being made. We laughed at Aretha Franklin's hat together (it was a bit much), giggled over the oath slip-up together, and sat in awed silenced together as we listened to Obama address the nation as President for the first time.

Definitely a thumbs up to you, Mr. President.

And while the Obamas are being whisked from ball to ball (tehehe), I am sitting here hooked to the TV, soaking up every moment. I love Michelle's ball gown. And Barack just looks so handsome. And their first dance? Swoon. I have to admit...I actually liked Beyonce for a minute or two.

But my favorite part of the evening? The headline on the CNN website:

"Obamas juggle inauguration balls"

The 6th grade girl in me can't stop giggling...

Congratulations, President Obama. I can't wait to see all the good things you'll bring to this country over the next four years!

Tiny icicles

2009-01-15T22:03:00.006-06:00

On my lovely, brisk 6 minute walk home from the bus stop this evening my eyes started feeling a bit heavy. And a bit sticky. And a bit clumpy.

What could it be?

Oh yes, my eyelashes had FROZEN together. Not all of them, but some of the longer ones in the middle. It got to the point where I couldn't really open my eyes all the way. Sure enough, when I got home and looked in the mirror, I had drops of ice on the ends of the lashes. Like teeny, tiny little icicles. It was precious. And a little frightening that it was that cold outside.

Despite my strong dislike of the cold and snow, I'm about to jump head first into a full-on winter wonderland. On Saturday morning, I'm driving up with three of my girlfriends to my friend's cottage in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. It's a lot farther north, a lot colder and a lot snowier (4 feet on the ground!).

My coworkers think I'm insane for voluntarily going to a colder climate in the middle of January. But I'm actually really excited about it. It's going to be fun to just veg out in sweats, curl up in front of a fire, drink wine, eat junk food and just hang out. Lately I've been feeling as though my life is going at warp speed and I have no free time anymore, so it will be nice to just relax and catch up with my good friends for the weekend.

I just have to get through tomorrow first. Thank goodness it's Starbucks Day. But oh how I miss my Pumpkin Spice Lattes and Gingersnap Lattes...

The Saskatchewan Screamer is gonna get ya!

2009-01-14T20:50:00.004-06:00

Sounds like the teaser to a cheesy horror movie, doesn't it?

Yeah, I wish.

That Saskatchewan Screamer is a low pressure system that dips in from Canada and is currently sitting pretty in the Midwest, blasting Chicago with little snowflakes, big snowflakes, crazy wind and a some cute little subzero temps thrown in for fun.

It's a nasty, ugly, freezing weather monster that is wrecking havoc here. The high for tomorrow?

-2

Wind chill?

-30

It's flippin' freezing.

Thank God it has a catchy name, right? Almost makes it sound fun. Or not.

65 days. 65 days. 65 days.

Repeating that helps me get through this frigid, face-numbing, frost-bite-inducing, stinging, biting cold. Because in 65 days, I'm going to Aruba. One sun-filled, fun-filled, pina colada-filled week of tropical bliss in the Caribbean. I can't even wait.

But for now, I'll just bury myself under 75 layers and brave the Saskatchewan Screamer. Bring it on!

When you're feeling down...

2009-01-13T21:44:00.003-06:00

Watch these videos.

These are by far my favorite happy YouTube videos. When I'm being a grump or annoyed with work, I just put one of these guys on and I feel better in no time.

Where the Hell is Matt?

I just recently discovered this and I'm obsessed. It's a lot better in HD, so if you have sec, mosey on over to YouTube and click on the little "watch in HD" button on the bottom right. Whether this is real or it's a hoax (which I don't think it is), this is definitely one of the greatest videos ever.

Schnappi Das Kleine Krokodil

As I post this video, I know everyone will finally realize how much of an odd duck I am. But this song/cartoon is just so cute. My brother showed this to me one day and I couldn't get the song out of my head for days, but I didn't mind. It's about a cute baby croc, what's not to love?

Look on the bright side

2009-01-12T20:58:00.002-06:00

Yep, you're in the right place.

Do you like the new look? I was a little sick of the green and brown. I needed something a bit brighter. A bit more fun. A bit more me. I had quite a difficult time choosing between shamrocks, palm trees, ice cream, etc. But the yellow flower stood out to me, so I went with it.

I appreciated everyone who offered to help me with a redesign—thank you. And I still definitely might be up for it. I have no clue how to change the layout or make it 3-column or any of that jazz. But since I'm in advertising and have studied design before, I was itching to try to design (AKA play around on InDesign) a little something myself. It's super basic, but I like it.

I'm sure over the next couple of days I'll be switching colors, etc. So stay tuned.

In the mean time, I'm going to finish whipping up my second crock pot meal (mandarin orange chicken) and head to bed a bit early. We're getting a blizzard tomorrow morning, just in time for the morning commute, so that means I have to leave super early to get to work on time. Oh how I love Chicago winters.

Weekend recap, Amish people, Golden Globes...oh my!

2009-01-11T21:47:00.005-06:00

This girl is tired. Very, very tired. After getting about 7 hours of sleep the whole weekend, I'm definitely ready to go to bed.

Friday night was the big (little) Galway reunion. I had a blast. We braved the cold, wet snow and trudged out on our Irish pub crawl. After a few pints of Smithwick's and Stella, some bottles of Magner's and a handful of Baby G's and Car Bombs, we were loudly and excitedly (mostly on my part) reminiscing about our favorites times abroad. Throw in a few awkward moments (like an almost-fight between strange men) and a heart-to-heart at the Rock n' Roll McDonald's at 3am and you've got one hell of a night.

The next day I had to brave the snow again (I am SO sick of winter) and made the trek to the train station. Thank God for my sweet black peace sign rain boots, which kept my feet nice and dry and relatively toasty. Let me just say that sitting on the floor of a super crowded train station with a hangover is not fun. What was fun though was when this really loud woman struck up a conversation with this sweet little Amish girl standing next to her. And please note this was right after the loud woman got pissed at someone in line and called her a snotty bitch. I believe the convo went something like this:

Loud Woman: Hey, wow, great cap! Are you like Amish?

Amish Girl: Yes, yes I am.

LW: Wow! That's so cool. I think all you Amish people are great, you know being away from society and stuff. That's awesome.

Amish Girl smiles and nods a bit.

LW: Is this your first time in the big city? Are you totally blown away?

Amish Girl: Yes, I am on my way to visit my boyfriend.

LW: You guys can date? No way! How is that possible?

Amish Girl: Yes, he is from Kentucky.

LW: Wow, really? Can you guys really do that? Go out and meet other people like that?

Amish Girl: Yes, yes.

LW: How did you meet? I just admire you all much. Amish people fascinate me.

And that's when I couldn't hold my laughter anymore and I had to walk away. That poor girl. It made me shudder a bit to think how naive and obnoxious that woman was. Yikes.

The rest of the weekend was great. I finally got on the train and went to Milwaukee to hang out with my boyfriend. We went to his teacher holiday party out in the middle of Wisconsin somewhere. Have I mentioned before that he is a teacher? So anyway, that was a blast. He works with some really fun people, so he's lucky.

Then today I came back to the 'burbs and hit up the mall with my sister. We ended up seeing Bride Wars. It was good...but not that good. I was a tad disappointed.

So now I'm sitting here watching the Golden Globes. Was anyone else a little sad when Heath Ledger won? He definitely deserved it, but it's so tragic... Ok and seriously, it has always REALLY annoyed me when people win awards and then aren't even there to accept it. All the other nominees could come out and wave their little hands and smile, but the dope that won couldn't even show up? Hey, I understand if there was a family emergency or something, but still. If I was one of those people that didn't win, I'd be a bit upset. But then again, if I was one of those people, I'd probably be freaking out because I was in the same room with all my favorite celebs.

I love how all those actors and actresses are so "hip" together. They all mingle and do the cheek-kisses and all that jazz. How chic. And fake. Do you ever wonder how things really are between all the celebrities? Like who really hates each other? Who is secretly in love with someone else? Who slept together in the past and tries to forget it? I do. I mean look at Angelina tonight, she looked pissed. And Steve Carrell always looks really sad at award shows. I wonder what it's all about. I bet it's crazy drama sometimes. But that might just be me.

What's the craic?

2009-01-08T22:08:00.007-06:00

When I say I love Ireland, it's a bit of an understatement.

I'm kind of obsessed with it. Irish accents, Irish people, Irish music, Irish holidays (or just one), Irish pubs, Irish beer, Irish shots (Baby Guiness!), even Irish food (ok not all of it). I hear someone mention it and my ears perk up. When I pass by the travel section in a book store, I have to browse through the Ireland books. If I'm bored at work sometimes, I look at pictures of Ireland. It's a bit sick, really.

My infatuation with the glorious Emerald Isle started back in Fall of 2005, when I studied abroad in Galway. When we first got there, I'll admit I wasn't too crazy about it. Perhaps it was after the disastrous first night in which we got ridiculously drunk on Red Bull vodkas with a handful of boys from Liverpool...right. Can't tell that story. I'd probably be shot.

But as the slight culture shock wore off, I fell in love with it. Classes didn't matter much there. My 3 "flatmates" (my high school friend A, a girl from my college I hadn't known previously, and a girl from NY) and I had a rule: If it was raining, we didn't have to go to class. And it rained a lot. We went out almost every night, met the cutest (and not so cute) Irish boys and traveled all over Europe on the weekends. And when I ended up dating a very cute Irish guy for a couple of months, it was the icing on the cake.

Though sometimes I grew tired of the constant rain, I loved every moment. When we had to leave and I had to say goodbye to everyone, especially my Irish guy, I was heartbroken. I literally cried the whole night before I left, the whole bus ride to the airport, the whole time at the airport and then the whole 7 hour flight back. I was a hot mess. No not even hot...I was a cold, tired, ugly, sniffly, snotty mess. Sick. The poor woman sitting next to me must have thought I was crazy.

I had the time of my life in Ireland. I could literally talk about it for hours on end. And every day, I wish I could go back. One day I do want to go back there...actually I want to go back now. But I know it won't be the same.

So luckily, I get the next best thing. Tomorrow night we're having a mini Galway reunion. Technially it's only me, A and our other roommate from the Niland House (where we lived over there), but it's the first time we've all been out together since we left Galway 3 years ago. I can't even wait. We're going on a little Irish pub crawl around Chicago. It should be a lot of fun. And hopefully it will be like having a tiny little piece of Ireland back again.

Sidenote: "Craic" is a Gaelic word for fun, good time, etc. They say it all the time over there.

At least I got a free poncho

2009-01-06T21:18:00.003-06:00

Weird stuff happens to me.

Today I took a little stroll over to the cafeteria in the building across the street to get some lunch. I was cutting through the nice little plaza next to the Tribune Tower, enjoying the "warmth" of the 30 degree day, when I saw this guy and girl calling for my attention. The girl was waving a camera, so I asked her if she wanted me to take a picture of them.

Nope. She wanted a picture of ME. I was really confused for a second and then she shoved a black bag in my hand (the freebie drawstring backpack kind) and mumbled something that sounded like "from espnradio.com" and told me to smile. When I still looked really confused, the guy told me it was just a nice picture in front of the Wrigley Building (which was across the street behind me).

Before I could protest, the girl snapped the picture and then sent me on my way. I tried to give the bag back, but they told me that it was my free gift for taking the picture. So I thanked them and continued to the cafeteria clutching my little black bag.

I swung that bag all through the cafeteria, all down Michigan Avenue back to work, all through the crowded lobbies and sidewalks, all the while wondering what fun little freebies and prizes were inside. If it was from ESPN, I was thinking I'd get a cool T-shirt, great coupons, and maybe even some free granola bars.

And then I got into the elevator to go to my office. And I finally took a look at the writing on the outside of the bag.

And there—in HUGE white letters—it practically screamed:

Maalox. For Advanced Relief.

For a split second, I was absolutely horrified. And then I burst out laughing. The other woman in the elevator thought I was nuts, but I just couldn't stop.

I can't believe I didn't look at the bag they made me pose with. Where the hell is that picture going to turn up? I can only imagine—me smiling, proudly showing off the huge Maalox logo. I'm sure the caption will read something like, "Chicago girls love fast relief" or "Maalox makes you smile" or "Chicago was a gas" or something like that.

How embarrassing...and funny. I wonder if it was for some kind of radio website gag or something because it seemed so random. I guess we'll find out soon enough.

The best part is what was inside the bag. There was one really sexy XXXL shirt that had the Maalox logo on it not once, but TWICE. So no matter which way you go, everyone will know you love Maalox. Plus, there was a fantastic black poncho with the logo plastered across the chest. The thing is so big you could probably fit 5 of me in the there. And thank God they included a handful of Maalox coupons. Who doesn't love those?

Now I'm sure Maalox is a wonderful product and as someone who has frequent stomach troubles, I can't be too harsh. But the situation is just too funny. And honestly, if it really is for Maalox, which I'm assuming it is considering the T-shirt and such, what kind of lame marketing ploy is that? Taking pictures with a Maalox bag? Bizarre.

I guess I can just be glad it wasn't Gas-X, right?

The best intentions...or something like that

2009-01-04T18:34:00.004-06:00

So as I kick off 2009, I've decided to make a few resolutions:

1. Drink more water. I'm TERRIBLE about drinking water. It's not that I drink a lot of soda or sugary drinks or anything, I just don't drink a lot of anything in general. Kind of weird.

2. Get on a regular Pilates/work out schedule ASAP so I can be fit and toned by March when I jet off to Aruba with my Mom and sister. (I'm already counting the days...)

3. After Santa left me with brand new cooking utensils, two cook books and a crock pot, I promised myself I'd cook more (I think he was hinting pretty strongly at that, too). So I'm going to try to cook myself dinner at least once a week, which is a big step for me.

4. Try to get to bed at a decent hour...or at least a bit earlier than I usually do.

5. Redesign my blog a bit. Not sure where to start on that, does anyone have any suggestions/ideas/tips? I'd really appreciate them!

So I started off today with the best intentions. I woke up, got ready and went to Pilates with my friend. I was really good about going over the summer, but when I moved and it started to get colder, I stopped going. So this morning was a bit rough. But I know it will only get better.

After Pilates, I stopped at the grocery store and picked up the last couple ingredients for my first ever crock pot meal. I was feeling very productive and very excited about "cooking". I decided to make a chicken and vegetable dish in which I could just throw everything into the pot all at once. Basically, it was just canned potatoes, canned water chestnuts, frozen green beans, garlic, pepper, a bottle of Italian dressing and 8 large chicken breast halves.

Yes, 8.

For some reason, I forgot that I was only "trying out" a recipe and therefore only I was going to be eating it. So I went and got my little chicken breasts and even though it was $15 ($15 for chicken?!), I decided it was a good investment because it would provide me meals for the next couple of days. Is chicken normally that much? Yikes. I have a lot of learning to do.

So I hurried home, threw it all together in the crock pot and set the timer. It smelled so good all day and I couldn't wait to eat it. When my little timer went off, I leapt off my couch and immediately went to try it out. It smelled good, it looked good...

It just didn't taste good.

I don't know if it was the canned potatoes (gross) or the canned water chestnuts (double gross), but I could barely eat it. The chicken was good, but the rest? Not so much. And now the smell is making me sick. And now I'm stuck with 7 more chicken breasts that I really don't want to eat. 7?! What was I thinking? Note to self: Check the serving size next time you make something. Sigh. I'm hoping it might taste better when it's cold...hmm.

I'm going to try not to let this discourage me from cooking more often. I'm just thinking it was a bad recipe...

And I had the best intentions to clean my apartment today and reorganize things. But then I started watching the ABC Family marathon of "The Secret Life of the American Teenager" and I'm hooked. I can't stop watching. These kids are so ridiculously trashy! When I was 15, I was obsessed with *NSYNC and trying to get through Biology labs, not thinking about when and how I could have sex. I meant really, the entire show is based on sex. I'm surprised ABC Family even airs it. But it's pretty good...and I can't stop watching. It's a very strange mix of characters. You've got the really slutty smart girl, the shy pregnant French horn player and the super super Christian girl. Kind of bizarre, but interesting nonetheless.

So if I want to keep watching and keep my resolution to go to bed earlier, I guess I'll just straighten up tomorrow. Happy New Year everyone!

What I learned in 2008

2008-12-30T12:39:00.009-06:00

2008 wasn't my best year. It also wasn't my worst, which is good, but I feel like I've learned a lot (in no particular order)...

1. Living alone is one of the best things ever. Roommates can be stressful. VERY stressful. (Not including a good friend who swooped in to save the day and lived with me for the remainder of my lease after my first roommate up and moved one day. Thank you again.)

2. DVR might be the second best thing ever. I really don't know how I ever lived without it.

3. Tyra Banks is crazy. Though I still watch ANTM, she seems to be getting crazier by the second.

4. It's fun to be in a magazine. Though it's a tiny shout out in Marie Claire, my family got all excited for me and it was a lot of fun. My Grandpa even showed every nurse in his Quincy nursing home...kind of embarrassing, actually, but still very cool.

5. Certain jellyfish glow. I camped out on an island on the Cape in August and those little glowing things were everywhere. They fascinated me, even though I have an unnatural fear of jellyfish. Until that day, I had never actually seen one "in the wild" before.

6. Irish accents still get me all giddy. And that's all I'll say about that. Sigh.

7. It's good to live by your best friends, even if it's only for the summer. And it's really fun when they move here from a faraway city and you actually get to see them face-to-face and not just via Gchat. Hooray for all of us being together again!

8. Speaking of Gchat, that is right up there with one of the best things ever.

9. I adore Starbucks from September to December. When they get rid of the fall and holiday drinks, a little piece of my heart cries.

10. It's ok to grow up. Some aspects of it are even pretty fun.

11. Blogging is a good time and it's definitely not as scary as I thought it would be. I love to write, but I have an odd fear of writing. Doesn't make sense, does it?

12. I spend more than half my time at work proofreading. And I now realize that I really don't like it.

13. I have an unhealthy obsession with the Olympics. And getting to try on a real 2008 Beijing Olympic gold swimming medal while playing flip cup at a house party was one of the coolest things ever:

I was SO excited, can you tell?

I really wanted to steal it...

14. Yes, the Cubs actually can break your heart a little more each year. It's so sad.

15. Apparently I love vampires sagas. And after reading them, I finally started to embrace my "porcelain" skin. Thank you Cullens for making it more attractive to be pale. Ha.

More to come, probably...

And on a side note, I just got back from seeing Seven Pounds. It's so good! I cried like a baby, but I really liked it. Two very enthusiastic thumbs up.