i hate everything.
no offense to my blogmate and mb (mbm & mb...) but today i hate bicycles and the people who ride them.
after spending the better part of last week wallowing in congested, vomiting misery on my couch i was finally forced to pull myself together and go to work today... but from the second i left my apartment it was all wrong. i was pulling out of the driveway before i realized that my nice hot cup of coffee was still sitting on the kitchen counter, and on the road less than 3 minutes before everything went to hell. i was specifically aware that bike the drive (the yearly cyclist love fest where they close off LSD to cars for some good, old-fashioned two-wheeled fun) was happening this weekend, but specifically thought that it was happening yesterday. i'm still way too chicago-dumb to attempt an efficient maneuver through city streets without any help from mapquest, and proceded to work my way south in a slow, disorganized way that was anything but sexy... and that landed me at work a good 20 minutes late.
things might have moved a little faster had it not been for all the wholesome, happy, bike-helmeted families that were meandering their way westward, obstructing not only my usual route to work but also clogging every intersection between me and my destination.
i'd like to think that my irrational rage was born from my own, inner outdoorsy-ness and my sadness that i couldn't join in on the fun. but really i'm just a bitter girl who hates everything.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
yours in hating everything,
as i've previously mentioned, i've recently picked up the habit of serially text-paging my blogmate messages that only say "i hate everything" or some variant thereof.
please add weather to the list of things that i hate.
as my blogmate recently pointed out, i compulsively check my email every morning when i wake up. what my blogmate probably doesn't know is that like clockwork, when i'm done checking my email i check the weather forecast.
but there's no point. in addition to never having any email at 5:30 in the morning (unless my blogmate was up late and desperately needing to tell me something), the weather has absolutely no bearing on my life.
though i resent, in theory, the fact that it's late may and still consistently darned cold outside, neither rain, nor sleet nor hail change things for me at all. nice weather, nasty weather, either way i go to work and come home and only experience the weather for the duration of my drive down lakeshore. ok, i'm occasionally inconvenienced when it's raining as i walk the 12 yards between the parking lot and the door, but that's about it.
in fact, the impact the weather has had on me lately me is to 1) make me extremely resentful when people tell me how nice it is outside and 2) make me miserably sick for the last 6 days. not sick enough to keep me home from work. just enough to give me that crappy, death-warmed-over feeling.
my miserable allergy-attack-cold thing led me to walgreens today, where the guy behind the counter wouldn't sell me any generic sudafed because i didn't have ID. i'm two weeks from turning 29 and i'm getting carded for cold medicine.
i also hate cold medicine, my need for it, and my lack of ability to buy any.
please add weather to the list of things that i hate.
as my blogmate recently pointed out, i compulsively check my email every morning when i wake up. what my blogmate probably doesn't know is that like clockwork, when i'm done checking my email i check the weather forecast.
but there's no point. in addition to never having any email at 5:30 in the morning (unless my blogmate was up late and desperately needing to tell me something), the weather has absolutely no bearing on my life.
though i resent, in theory, the fact that it's late may and still consistently darned cold outside, neither rain, nor sleet nor hail change things for me at all. nice weather, nasty weather, either way i go to work and come home and only experience the weather for the duration of my drive down lakeshore. ok, i'm occasionally inconvenienced when it's raining as i walk the 12 yards between the parking lot and the door, but that's about it.
in fact, the impact the weather has had on me lately me is to 1) make me extremely resentful when people tell me how nice it is outside and 2) make me miserably sick for the last 6 days. not sick enough to keep me home from work. just enough to give me that crappy, death-warmed-over feeling.
my miserable allergy-attack-cold thing led me to walgreens today, where the guy behind the counter wouldn't sell me any generic sudafed because i didn't have ID. i'm two weeks from turning 29 and i'm getting carded for cold medicine.
i also hate cold medicine, my need for it, and my lack of ability to buy any.
to our very good and guilt-ridden friends...
you are all lovely people.
mb and i are very excited about the upcoming move, and have been talking about the various stages of packing, gas leaks, throwing things away, etc. with many of you. and like good friends, you have all been happy for us. we love you and are excited to welcome you to our new home in a week or so.
let us set the record straight to ease your collective conscience. we are hiring movers. i have never seen so many confused and vaguely guilty faces, ranging from the explicit "umm, i know it's my job as friend to offer to help you to move -- do you need me?" to the more subtle "yeah... ummm... so my sister? is also moving that day. sorry, would love to help you..." to the joyful "sweet! no more third-floor walk-up?"
we understand your reluctance to move our furniture -- you've already helped us so many times in the last three years, have lost toenails and watches on the steep wooden back staircase, have lost parts of your cement front driveways while i come careening through in a truck whose size exceeds my driving skills. we are also reluctant to move our own furniture. and to those who have regularly asked "you're HIRING? like paying MONEY? that doesn't seem like you," yes, even we think it's worth it this time.
so rest easy, thank you for three years of lifting, dragging, lending showers when ours stops working, laundry when ours stops working, etc. your next job will be to come admire the new place. there will be beer. we'll keep you posted.
mb and i are very excited about the upcoming move, and have been talking about the various stages of packing, gas leaks, throwing things away, etc. with many of you. and like good friends, you have all been happy for us. we love you and are excited to welcome you to our new home in a week or so.
let us set the record straight to ease your collective conscience. we are hiring movers. i have never seen so many confused and vaguely guilty faces, ranging from the explicit "umm, i know it's my job as friend to offer to help you to move -- do you need me?" to the more subtle "yeah... ummm... so my sister? is also moving that day. sorry, would love to help you..." to the joyful "sweet! no more third-floor walk-up?"
we understand your reluctance to move our furniture -- you've already helped us so many times in the last three years, have lost toenails and watches on the steep wooden back staircase, have lost parts of your cement front driveways while i come careening through in a truck whose size exceeds my driving skills. we are also reluctant to move our own furniture. and to those who have regularly asked "you're HIRING? like paying MONEY? that doesn't seem like you," yes, even we think it's worth it this time.
so rest easy, thank you for three years of lifting, dragging, lending showers when ours stops working, laundry when ours stops working, etc. your next job will be to come admire the new place. there will be beer. we'll keep you posted.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
self-subversive?
excellent. plan avoid-yuppie-lifestyle is well underway.
after a pleasant conversation with a co-worker about her husband and kids, and her laughing about how much more exciting the single life must be, i headed off for work saturday morning. when mb picked me up (raining, no car, etc.) we returned to casa hyde park, which had been brewing a huge gas leak all day. this seemed to explain mb's headache and nausea, i guess... so i called and argued with the building manager for awhile, who finally came up to check out the situation, decided that he personally did not smell any gas, and left. i called the gas company, who in 30 minutes showed up and validated our concerns by saying that they could smell it halfway up the stairs. now having a new connector of some sort, we opened all the windows, turned on the fans, and decided to have that single night on the town my friend had been mentioning. mb made the wise suggestion that since we're leaving hyde park in 2 short weeks, we owe it to the 'hood to spend our evening here. fish and chips at the very deserted pub were good, but memoirs of a geisha was not. that movie is pain heaped with awkwardness complicated by suffering and more pain. an hour in, i poked mb and mentioned that the movie was a little weird. he whispered back that he'd rather be sniffing gas fumes. so back we went, and spent the rest of our most awesome evening in a now gas-fume-free but freezing apartment.
so now things are well-ventilated and everything, and we're getting ready to move soon. (aside: we think the new place should have a name, like the kennedy's "wexford" or something. we're debating between "snootington" and "fancington." any votes?) lest i worry about our immediately fitting in to the new neighborhood and becoming the yuppies that we fear, the place won't look clean or conservative any time soon. when i mentioned that i'd picked up 20+ copies of a local lgbt paper, i didn't mean for packing gifts, i meant for packing our apartment. our granite counters and stainless steel appliances will easily be tempered by the million scantily clad men smiling from the pages of the chicago free press.
even better, mb reminded me that some of our new neighbors are mormons. he's planning the welcoming statement now: "hi, i'm mb and this is my live-in girlfriend. it's great to meet you! hey, would you mind giving me a hand carrying this crate of booze wrapped in soft gay porn?"
we're going to fit right in.
after a pleasant conversation with a co-worker about her husband and kids, and her laughing about how much more exciting the single life must be, i headed off for work saturday morning. when mb picked me up (raining, no car, etc.) we returned to casa hyde park, which had been brewing a huge gas leak all day. this seemed to explain mb's headache and nausea, i guess... so i called and argued with the building manager for awhile, who finally came up to check out the situation, decided that he personally did not smell any gas, and left. i called the gas company, who in 30 minutes showed up and validated our concerns by saying that they could smell it halfway up the stairs. now having a new connector of some sort, we opened all the windows, turned on the fans, and decided to have that single night on the town my friend had been mentioning. mb made the wise suggestion that since we're leaving hyde park in 2 short weeks, we owe it to the 'hood to spend our evening here. fish and chips at the very deserted pub were good, but memoirs of a geisha was not. that movie is pain heaped with awkwardness complicated by suffering and more pain. an hour in, i poked mb and mentioned that the movie was a little weird. he whispered back that he'd rather be sniffing gas fumes. so back we went, and spent the rest of our most awesome evening in a now gas-fume-free but freezing apartment.
so now things are well-ventilated and everything, and we're getting ready to move soon. (aside: we think the new place should have a name, like the kennedy's "wexford" or something. we're debating between "snootington" and "fancington." any votes?) lest i worry about our immediately fitting in to the new neighborhood and becoming the yuppies that we fear, the place won't look clean or conservative any time soon. when i mentioned that i'd picked up 20+ copies of a local lgbt paper, i didn't mean for packing gifts, i meant for packing our apartment. our granite counters and stainless steel appliances will easily be tempered by the million scantily clad men smiling from the pages of the chicago free press.
even better, mb reminded me that some of our new neighbors are mormons. he's planning the welcoming statement now: "hi, i'm mb and this is my live-in girlfriend. it's great to meet you! hey, would you mind giving me a hand carrying this crate of booze wrapped in soft gay porn?"
we're going to fit right in.
Friday, May 12, 2006
help a girl out
why didn't someone tell me that chicago free press was a gay men's newspaper before i picked up 20 copies of it for packing filler?
material girl? a flight of ideas.
i am rapidly but anxiously reaching the conclusion that stuff is good.
after months of mocking my blogmate's dental hygiene preferences, i recently purchased one of those new battery-operated auto-rotating toothbrushes. i can honestly say that my teeth haven't felt this clean since, well, since i last saw dentists regularly. (i'm sorry, but on the south side the only dentists i've found who take my insurance are named rufus, and i can't get past it.) so i'm pleased with the new discovery (and mb is super jealous), but added to my increasing love of pedicures and accessories... it's becoming a problem. we're also moving in a few weeks, leaving behind our undergrad-style walk-up where the floors slant and the lights dim when the microwave comes on, in favor of a newer place with extras like washer-dryer, central heat and air, shower that (hopefully) works on demand.
so here i am, feeling a little guilty and trying to avoid the slippery slope, feeling good for the decision not to replace stella right away and share mb's car for awhile, and who is trying to interfere? my parents. they think it's completely unreasonable that i not have my own car and are calling every other day to find out if i've bought another yet. their reasons thus far:
"but you need one"
"but then you won't come visit us"
"don't you work?"
so i think the material line is jagged. i'm completely willing to justify a much more frivolous though inexpensive option like electric toothbrush (mmmm...) but getting more stubborn by the phone call about not replacing stella, which i could probably put to better use than a crest uber-kleen or whatever. i'm not sure where the line is; i'm currently planning to save money by taking a wine-making class down in beverly, but then buy a big wine rack to house the case of cheap wine that will then come home with me.
so i'm inconsistent. or maybe i'm doing just fine, and the electric toothbrush and wine rack are just fine as long as i don't have gold chains for my palm pilot holster like guido. that's the best thing about guido. all of the rest of our idiosyncrasies smooth right over.
after months of mocking my blogmate's dental hygiene preferences, i recently purchased one of those new battery-operated auto-rotating toothbrushes. i can honestly say that my teeth haven't felt this clean since, well, since i last saw dentists regularly. (i'm sorry, but on the south side the only dentists i've found who take my insurance are named rufus, and i can't get past it.) so i'm pleased with the new discovery (and mb is super jealous), but added to my increasing love of pedicures and accessories... it's becoming a problem. we're also moving in a few weeks, leaving behind our undergrad-style walk-up where the floors slant and the lights dim when the microwave comes on, in favor of a newer place with extras like washer-dryer, central heat and air, shower that (hopefully) works on demand.
so here i am, feeling a little guilty and trying to avoid the slippery slope, feeling good for the decision not to replace stella right away and share mb's car for awhile, and who is trying to interfere? my parents. they think it's completely unreasonable that i not have my own car and are calling every other day to find out if i've bought another yet. their reasons thus far:
"but you need one"
"but then you won't come visit us"
"don't you work?"
so i think the material line is jagged. i'm completely willing to justify a much more frivolous though inexpensive option like electric toothbrush (mmmm...) but getting more stubborn by the phone call about not replacing stella, which i could probably put to better use than a crest uber-kleen or whatever. i'm not sure where the line is; i'm currently planning to save money by taking a wine-making class down in beverly, but then buy a big wine rack to house the case of cheap wine that will then come home with me.
so i'm inconsistent. or maybe i'm doing just fine, and the electric toothbrush and wine rack are just fine as long as i don't have gold chains for my palm pilot holster like guido. that's the best thing about guido. all of the rest of our idiosyncrasies smooth right over.
Monday, May 08, 2006
goodbye guido, bye-bye beefcake
at 2:30 AM this morning i found myself lying wide awake in bed, completely unable to fall back asleep, trying to sort out which unpleasant factoids about my ex-boyfriend were actually true (yes, he did get married to someone else uncomfortably close to the time we broke up, no, he i and did not get married and divorced in october of 2003). i fell back asleep just in time for my alarm to go off at which point i dragged myself out of bed and actually managed to get myself to work a few minutes early, giving me just enough time to enjoy a nice bowl of oatmeal before getting started on my day. but a leisurely breakfast wasn't really in the cards for me, and no sooner than i had walked in the door i found myself bombarded by angry phone calls from angry people who had me convinced that i was a blind, incompetent moron.
i was feeling pretty lousy about the way the day was going until i looked around and noticed the conspicuous absence of our visiting intern guido (or at least that should have been his name - he also went by beefcake or "that body builder guy")...
then things started looking up.
working with guido was a double whammy of awfulness. for starters, he was possibly the most useless rotator we've ever had. i'll never know if he was actually as thick-headed as he seemed to be, but i've never seen anyone demonstrate such an astounding lack of work ethic. getting him to do anything was like hitting your head against a wall.
for all his uselessness, he might have gotten away with it had he made a little less of an aesthetic spectacle of himself. he was completely ridiculous. he was about as thick as he was tall, with a shiny bald head and perpetually red face. not his fault, except that one could only become so muscle-y by spending all one's waking hours at the gym (possibly with the help of anabolic steroids). and he wasn't just huge and thuggish. he wore horrible clothes - baggy pants with pleats in weird colors with tight shirts and shoes and belts that always perfectly matched and were always just a bit too ornate. he would then adorn these belts with various gadgets, all held in holsters with little gold chains. palm pilot, cell phone, beeper, stethoscope. he even had holsters for his ridiculous pens. i realize that it sounds silly to hate someone for their choice of writing instrument, but every day he would show up with a different, big, shiny, obnoxious fountain pen. you'd think with such a flashy pen he'd write something down occasionally, but you'd be wrong.
so although i keep emailing and text-ing my blogmate messages that only say, "i hate everything," i at least have the solace of knowing that i never have to see guido again.
i was feeling pretty lousy about the way the day was going until i looked around and noticed the conspicuous absence of our visiting intern guido (or at least that should have been his name - he also went by beefcake or "that body builder guy")...
then things started looking up.
working with guido was a double whammy of awfulness. for starters, he was possibly the most useless rotator we've ever had. i'll never know if he was actually as thick-headed as he seemed to be, but i've never seen anyone demonstrate such an astounding lack of work ethic. getting him to do anything was like hitting your head against a wall.
for all his uselessness, he might have gotten away with it had he made a little less of an aesthetic spectacle of himself. he was completely ridiculous. he was about as thick as he was tall, with a shiny bald head and perpetually red face. not his fault, except that one could only become so muscle-y by spending all one's waking hours at the gym (possibly with the help of anabolic steroids). and he wasn't just huge and thuggish. he wore horrible clothes - baggy pants with pleats in weird colors with tight shirts and shoes and belts that always perfectly matched and were always just a bit too ornate. he would then adorn these belts with various gadgets, all held in holsters with little gold chains. palm pilot, cell phone, beeper, stethoscope. he even had holsters for his ridiculous pens. i realize that it sounds silly to hate someone for their choice of writing instrument, but every day he would show up with a different, big, shiny, obnoxious fountain pen. you'd think with such a flashy pen he'd write something down occasionally, but you'd be wrong.
so although i keep emailing and text-ing my blogmate messages that only say, "i hate everything," i at least have the solace of knowing that i never have to see guido again.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
freak show
ok. now, i understand that 1) i have no love life at all and am in no position to casually wave off potential suitors and 2) that i am not infrequently guilty of the crime of randomly and inappropriately becoming infatuated with people i don't know and cannot have. seriously- farbeit from me to criticize someone for their romantic whimsy. but the following scenarios have occurred this weekend and i take this constellation of events as a bad sign.
1) at the uber-trendy vida lounge on cinco de mayo some 22-year-old guy in a sox jersey and big (stupid) sombrero actually groped my chest under the thinly veiled guise of examining my blinky corona necklace party favor.
2) at a random dive bar on milwaukee and addison a greasy pony-tailed man in one of those baja hoodies that were so popular in 1993 approached ck and i to see if either one of us gave a good massage, because he had just beaten up his friend and his friend could sure use a good massage.
and finally
3) roy the cable guy came knocking yesterday afternoon (interrupting my transfixtion on my mind-numbing, error-ridden spread sheets) and after craning his neck around the door to see the inside of my apartment tried to strike up a conversation about my listening to boy dylan and how much he loves bob dylan and what's your name and you should call me.
really???
1) at the uber-trendy vida lounge on cinco de mayo some 22-year-old guy in a sox jersey and big (stupid) sombrero actually groped my chest under the thinly veiled guise of examining my blinky corona necklace party favor.
2) at a random dive bar on milwaukee and addison a greasy pony-tailed man in one of those baja hoodies that were so popular in 1993 approached ck and i to see if either one of us gave a good massage, because he had just beaten up his friend and his friend could sure use a good massage.
and finally
3) roy the cable guy came knocking yesterday afternoon (interrupting my transfixtion on my mind-numbing, error-ridden spread sheets) and after craning his neck around the door to see the inside of my apartment tried to strike up a conversation about my listening to boy dylan and how much he loves bob dylan and what's your name and you should call me.
really???
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
