All Jenny, because you can never get too much.

It's something

2007-10-09T10:46:00.000-05:00

Handle

Stairs

Baby brother all grown up

2007-07-12T10:37:00.001-05:00

Today is my little brother's birthday. 24. 24! The idea that he is getting so old is a little bit scary to me, though I have no doubt he is prepared for it. In celebration of his day I thought I'd share some of the things that I like best about him/most impress me about him/make me laugh at him.

He is a teacher. And a good one. He teaches a bunch of high school kids that could wear down Mother Teresa's patience and he never even blinks. He is realistic about their futures, yet hopeful and encouraging all along. He even took his kids to visit his Alma mater, resulting in an acceptance to the school. I'm amazed at this, because more profoundly, I am amazed he hasn't thrown any of them out the window. I surely would have.
He does the best imitations of people I have ever seen or heard.

David immitating a really annoyed brother whose sister will not stop taking pictures of him. Perfection.

He is an artist. An amazing artist. He has given me several pieces which I love to display. He has an eye for detail that makes his work unique and hard not to stare at for hours.
He wears his emotions on his face. When David is pissed, you know it. When David doesn't like you, he doesn't hide it. While I don't particularly love this, I can appreciate it because you always know where he is coming from. More than that, I love that when he is happy because he has the best laugh and smile in the entire world.

Mostly likely cracking up due to a fart joke.

He krumps. Seriously. And with gusto. Some of my favorite memories are dancing with my brother in the house and in the car. And not just a gentle swaying. I'm talking full throttle, balls to the wall gyrations and spasms. I'm not saying that either one of us are particularly good, but that doesn't mean we don't give 100% every time.
He is a bleeding heart liberal. He loves politics and can out argue just about anyone, even when he is wrong. He has some serious convictions and he will fight you to the death to get his point across. He has a soft spot for the most vulnerable and underprivileged among us and has proven he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty in helping tackle those issues. I love all this leftist enthusiasm even more because I knew him way back when he was in 9th grade and was a staunch Republican.

If this isn't the portrait of a budding political mind, I don't know what is.

His hands look like paws on a puppy.

He has hands like this, only more hairy. Also, there was another picture here, but SOME people found it offensive. Prudes.

We both get Franken-neck pretty regularly. Genetics.
As we get older we start to look more and more alike. While he complains that in pictures we always look like boyfriend and girlfriend (it is creepy, we know. It's been discussed and we aren't proud of it), hopefully soon we will look similar enough that people will either assume we are just happy siblings or from Appalachia.

Loving brother or sister or future parents of a very inbred child? Ew..I'm sorry. That was too much.

David can have some foul moods. I mean, seriously foul. But the nice thing is, no matter how mean he gets, or whatever nastiness comes out of his mouth, he will always apologize when he knows he's really hurt your feelings. I have a million little notes somewhere saved from when we lived under the same roof that say the sweetest, most heartwarming things.
When we were little kids and we wanted to get our mom's attention we would pool our annoyingness together and I would yell, "MOMM-" and then he would yell, "-MMY" over and over until she would come to us. While I'm sure my mother would remember this as one of our less charming attributes, I think it was pretty adorable. Go Teamwork.

I have a lot more things I like/think are funny about my brother, but from here on out, the stories/opinions I have fall into the category of things my brother would kill me for sharing. But I think you can get the gist of him through what I have disclosed. Starting in high school he began evolving into Dave. Dave is how his friends know him. David is the hip guy who dresses smart and listens to kick ass music. I like Dave. But really, to me, he will always be David, who danced our choreography while lip-syncing to "Master of the House" from Les Miserables with me around our family room. So Happy 24 Dave and David! I hope the next 24 will bring you more success and happiness than your bleeding liberal heart could ever imagine.

No family vacation is complete without...ME!

2007-07-10T10:53:00.000-05:00

As I mentioned before, this June ruled. I've had one more weekend to add to a fantastic month. The last weekend in June happened to be my parent's 30th anniversary. Wow. That means my mom has been married more years than she was single and my dad is getting close. That just blows my mind. Personally, I think my parents are an excellent example of how a marriage should work. They don't always (or ever) get along, per se, but they both have a lot of love and respect for the other that keeps it going. Most likely, they each have pretty detailed, well thought out plans of how to get rid of the other and make it look like an accident. But not once in 30 years have either one of them reverted to those plans and I think that takes guts and should be commended. My parents were planning on going to New York to visit my brother that weekend and my brother had the brilliant idea that I should fly out there secretly and surprise them for their anniversary. That's David, always thinking. So that is what I did. (I realize this plan/anniversary present all hinges on the assumption that someone (my parents) would want to "receive" me or time with me as a gift. In fact, in this case, it goes so far as to assume someone would not only like to "receive" me, but pay for all my meals, cabs and lodging on top of it. I'm pretty awesome, so I'm going to say it is a pretty safe assumption.)

Manhattan, as seen from Brooklyn.

I planned to arrive the same day as them, just a little later so I would meet them at their hotel after dinner. Possible revelation scenarios included me already in the room, yelling surprise when they entered, a bell boy knocking on the door saying, "Delivery" and then the delivery was me or me randomly walking up to them in the lobby asking for the time. All my good intentions flew out the window when it stormed for three days in Chicago, prior to my departure.

Their flight was delayed. My flight was delayed even more. I ended up arriving at their hotel at 1:30 am. David had informed the front desk of my pending arrival and they had a key for me. David was pretty sick and took a Tylenol PM, so he said I should just let myself in if he didn't answer his phone. The only problem with that plan was the chain lock on the door. So after calling David about 15 times, he finally answered and let me in. We snuck into my parent's room where David woke them saying, "I have surprise for you." I snuck out from behind the door and said, "Surprise!" My dad barely rolled over. My mom picked her head up and looked at me (without glasses or contacts) and said, "What?" I said, "It's your daughter, Jenny!" My mom said, "What?" Dad said, "Jennnnnnny. Hello. " and then went back to sleep. My mother was pretty confused, understandably. The most she could spit out that night was, "What? I don't understand. But how did you get here? I don't understand. Where were you? How are you here? What? I don't understand." It was pretty cute. There was a pull-out couch that David was sleeping on, but he was very, very sick and contagious. So my parent's 30th anniversary ended just like every couple imagines theirs will end. In bed, with their 26 year old child in bed with them. Now that's what I call romance.

Little do they know this scene will be repeating itself 26 years from now, minus the contented smiles.

The weekend was great. David was really sick, and I felt pretty bad for him. But he hang in their like a trooper. He recently moved to his first apartment where he will have no roommates and I think he is just going to love it. He has a pretty sweet set up there. The apartment seems nice, it has cool people in the building and it is very close to a lot of fun.

It worries me that my brother just continues to get more good looking. Soon I'm going to have to stop uglying myself up so as to make him feel better. I hate him thinking I got all the good looking genes in the family.

We ate at some pretty incredible restaurants in Brooklyn, went to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, went to the MoMA, walked along the river and just had a great time. Brooklyn is pretty kick ass. The more I go there, the more I really enjoy it. My parents were happy with my presence and were glad to have the whole family together. So overall, Operation Surprise Anniversary was a success. Even with the co-sleeping.

Weekend in Review

2007-06-27T10:56:00.000-05:00

If my entire life were like this month of June, I'd be the luckiest woman alive. To continue on the nuptials theme, I attended an engagement party weekend for my dear friend Ben and his lovely and gracious fiance, Kristin. The whole crew of us who lived together my junior year of college were all in attendance. Both Rud and Tina have eloquently described this weekend's activities, but I will give an update as well. Following Rud's example, I will take the bullet point approach, elaborating when necessary (or interesting).

Wednesday, June 20 to Thursday, June 21.
-Quality time with Tina.

Tina says I made her eat hair. I think she enjoyed it.

Friday, June 22.
-Tina made delicious food for the road.
- Food consumed in first 20 minutes on the road.
- A four hour drive took 6 and 1/2 hours.
- Aforementioned delay was due to a truck "dropping its load" on 80-90, thus shutting down the highway. 3 miles in 2 hours. One display of dexterity, flexibility and just plain bravery in the backseat on my part. If any of you know my bladder, then you can imagine what this refers to.
-Arrival at Devil's Lake VERY late in the evening. Entire E2 contingent (my roomies, Didi, Andrew, Nemo and Ben) awake and drinking, awaiting our arrival.
-Catching up around the bonfire.
-Spooning with Tina.

Saturday, June 23.
-Breakfast with my roommates!
-Tubing
- I've always been a little afraid of tubing, but I think I might have picked up an addiction. On the first go, it was Me, Didi and Ben. There was treachery. There were heroics. There was lots of maniacal laughter. It was awesome. The second round was with Tina and Carrie. Less treachery, same amount of fun. I came away with only Franken-neck (how I will forever more refer to my neck stiffness) and a skinned elbow. The following morning I was so unbelievably sore. It felt awesome.

Ben tried to overthrow, but Didi's and my collective strength denied him every time.

-Institution of the 2 put up's for every put down. Let's just say Nemo was giving me put up's all night.
- Cornhole, a game I have always scoffed at. There is nothing more annoying than frat boys throwing bean bags on the sidewalk on a beautiful, sunny day. However, after participating, I can really see the appeal. Still, the frat boys should take it to their back yard.
- BBQ!
- Incredible nap on the dock in the sun with my roommates. Perfect.

What else was perfect? Our E2 pyramidal formation, that's what.

- Caribbean Band!! And they played Sweat! There was dancing. Much much dancing.
- Catered dinner. Coconut rice, chicken and beef that melted in your mouth. Corn with vanilla butter! Cake! It was to die for. It fit the theme and satisfied everyone's palate.
- Fireworks off the dock. One of the most impressive displays I have ever seen on the amateur circuit.
-Bonfire with...wait for it...S'MORES!!! and the introduction of Harper Pies (bread, pizza sauce, meat, cheese, all in the fire. Delicious.).
- There is no better food on earth than s'mores. Well, a few, but let's just say I if I combined s'mores with my other favorites, it would be a meal fit for Zeus himself.

Sunday, June 24.
-Early departure.
-Sad goodbyes
-Traffic
-Street closure due to Gay Pride Parade.
-Excellent sushi dinner.

All in all, it was a perfect weekend, though it was way too short. There is obviously a lot more information, but it is mostly inside jokes, so I spared you. This group of friends hadn't all been together since 2005 and it was fantastic to remember how much fun we used to have, and to witness how much fun we still have (as evidence by the over abundance of exclamation points in this post). I think E2 get togethers are going to have to become a yearly thing. I just can't wait til there are babies at these events. Ok, I take that back. I can wait cause that will mean crying and tending to them, and smelly diapers and distractions, and possibly Barney. I'm just fine with no babies for another 5 years. But when they all start having babies, I will be ready. Just so long as I get out of diaper duty.

The sunset, metaphor for life, love, the end of the weekend and the completion of this entry.

Joys of summer

2007-06-18T10:05:00.000-05:00

There are many things to look forward to as summer envelopes us. Sun tans, BBQ's, vacations, long weekends, ice cream, etc. One major disappointment of the summer for me has always been the lack of new tv shows. All my favorites were in reruns. Last year, however, I discovered something that would save me from watching Lifetime originals all summer long (and subsequently plunging into a weeping mess covered in hagaan daz because really, women have it so hard. You don't know the pain that can come with ovaries) and over the last couple of weeks this something has made me excited about life all over again. That's right. Season 3 of So You Think You Can Dance (or for those in the know, SYTYCD) is BACK!

I just love this show. It has a quality that draws me in where shows like American Idol, America's Got Talent, Dancing with the Stars and Survivor turn me off. To be honest, I don't watch a lot of "reality tv" save for this and Charm School and its various incarnations (it hurts so good). I can't even watch Real World or Real World/Road Rules Challenge, and those used to be staples in my TV diet. I think it is the combination of lots of dancing with lots of dancing. Also, the people are young and quirky and fun. I love how they pair people up, because often times the chemistry between them is so squirm-worthy that that you are sure they are doing the do backstage afterwards (more on this later). I even enjoy watching the boring styles, like the waltz. The right couple can make me re-live their dance over and over again thanks to tivo and youtube. Also, the music rules. I usually end up trying some move they did during the course of the evening, and I usually butcher it pretty substantially(and often end up with a Franken-neck). Good thing I watch it alone.

This season started off strong with an impressive top 20 (10 guys, 10 girls). Obviously there were some standouts. Here are my favorites.

Jessi and Pasha
I like them both, but I love Jessi (and love looking at Pasha). Theirs was one of the typically boring to watch waltz' that I actually enjoyed. Mostly I know I like Jessi from the auditions and I expect big things from her.

Hok and Jaime
ruled) but I love Hok. I can't stand Jaime. And I swear to god, if she brings him down, I will personally go after her and pull out her big, curly hair one strand at a time. Their performance this week wasn't great (Jaime's fault, Hokworked it.) Hok's audition footage was pretty bad ass. He is adorable.

Lacey and Kameron
I'll be honest. I really didn't like either of these two before last week's show. And I usually can't stand watching modern dance. But this little number was pretty freaking awesome. Also, I can tell that despite her being Mormon, Lacey and Kameron will be boning at some point, if they haven't already, and if he isn't gay. I got a little hot and bothered just watching them. Which is nice. I like interactive tv.

Cedric and Faina
Hate Faina. I hope she goes home next week. Heart Cedric. Big time. He reminds me of Stretch Armstrong, but cuter. And less white.

Anya and Danny
Hate Danny. I'm aflutter about Anya. I want to reach through the TV and make out with her. They had excellent chemistry but mostly, this week they kicked ass because she's got legs that go on for days.

Sara and Jesus
Sara is a B girl. Jesus is the son of God. What more can you ask for. I hope they both stay the entire show and I hope Sara wins because she brought it.

In addition to SYTYCD, summer also bring swimsuits. Fun for some, unbearable for others. Last year I believe I retold the story of trying to buy a swimsuit and ending up with a maternity suit that looked pretty damn good on me. I'd say that experience goes firmly in the unbearable swimsuit experience column. But there IS something we can all look forward to. White swimsuits that magically turn see-thru with water! Or wait, can we? I have been doing a little swimming lately and there is always the same old woman there. She is probably in her upper 70's and looks every day of it. While she is technically excersizing, I wouldn't go so far as to say what she does could be considered swimming by any stretch of the imagination. More like floating, standing and occasionally walking very, very slowly. The other day she was getting out of the pool at her usual turtle pace when I saw it. By "it" I am referring to her old ass nipple right around where her belly button is. She had a swim suit that was half black and half white and the white part was not padded so as to hide areola. And if there is any areola I REALLY don't want to be seeing, it is the saggy, wrinkly areola of a woman in the winter of her life. She is either oblivious, or actually a saucy tart who is trying to seduce the gentleman that usually swims in her lane and chats her up. Though I'm pretty sure for him to actually see nip while she is standing in the pool, he would have to be laying on the bottom. Old age is a mother fucker.

While that's not her, that pretty much sums it up. Yikes.

So on that note, keep your nips under wraps and always wear sunblock.

The Wedding Issue

2007-06-12T15:44:00.000-05:00

It's spring time and that can only mean one thing. Weddings. Lots and lots of weddings. In the past month I have been to two beautiful weddings of college friends and I would like to take a moment and reflect.

The Bongiovanni-Strandness Wedding

The weekend before memorial day, two of my friends from the Northwestern Alpine Ski Racing Team were married.

NU Alpine Ski Racing Team Represents. Really, are we not the picture of Division I athletes?

Kate and Tom met on ski team, so I was able to witness this relationship from its inception. The wedding took place at Lake Geneva on a perfect day. Kate looked stunning and seemed as natural on the alter as if she was ordering some fries with her cheeseburger. Tom, equally as dapper, seemed happy as hell and there were even some tears on his part, which meant there were tears on my part. Nothing makes me cry like a choked up groom. Well done. I hadn't seen most of my friends from ski team for a good 3-4 years, so this was a perfect opportunity to get re-acquainted. And nothing helps the re-acquainting like copious amounts of booze.

Really, I was just holding her up. No one wants to see the bride drunkenly face plant.

There were some funny moments, like the limo getting lost, Vee and Jay in general, and the Wayne Newton impersonator DJ. But mostly it was just fun. There was lots and lots of dancing, which I whole-heartedly support. Also, it made me realize I don't see this group of friends nearly enough.

The Raap-Donnelly Wedding

One of my roommates from my senior year at Northwestern married. Matt met and dated Liz throughout that year we were living together, so again, it is fun to see a relationship that I witnessed the beginnings of end in marriage and not tears and restraining orders.

All together now, "Awwww." Now you can barf in your mouth.

I was a bridesmaid in this celebration, and the benevolent Liz allowed her bridesmaids to pick our own dresses, just so long as they were below the knee and black. I was one of very few (frighteningly few, actually) single people at this affair. All of my roommates from senior year are now either married or engaged. WTF? Not only that, but they seem to have a lot of paired up friends. No matter. I scouted out the dateless so that there was never a slow song that I didn't dance (though I don't really understand the two slow song in a row rule. I mean, admittedly, sometimes it is awesome because you get to cling to someone who, under other circumstances would run like hell from you, for an extra song, but sometimes, you are the one wanting to run like hell. You need a fast song so you can escape from their kung foo grip, but it doesn't come. This is actually one of the few occasions were I wasn't afraid to start a second dance with a partner I had, so way to go with the wedding guest selection).

Matt, me and Greg, each blaming the post-rehearsal dinner gas on others.

There was also a margarita bar (Dangerous. Dangerously delicious.) the electric slide (which might be one of my favorite dances in the world), "I like big butts" (which might be my favorite song to dance to inappropriately at weddings), Air fiddle to "The Devil went down to Georgia (I think)," kick as food combo of chicken AND steak (which later contributed to some seriously noxious dance floor odors) and the groom serenading his bride with Meatloaf (the artist, not the food). I would really like to tell you some funny stories about the wedding, but I feel like they would all come off as inside jokes, much funnier had you been there.

Caleb, me and Nemo. We are so good looking, it is a felony. Thankfully, Caleb is a lawyer.

All I can say is Liz looked resplendent (you really rarely get the opportunity to use a word like resplendent but I don't think there is a more perfect word) and I don't think I have ever seen Matt happier. It was a terrific event and I am so happy I got to participate.

While it is strange seeing more and more friends end up with wedding rings on their hands, I am pretty ok with it. Sure, I had to sleep on the sofa bed so Nemo and Carrie, husband and wife, could have an actual bed. Sure, at breakfast I was the odd number chair with everyone else having a partner next to them. But, I do get to keep my dance card open, I do get a bed to myself to sleep drunkenly in and I rarely have to consult with anyone else before making plans. Plus, wedding rings seem like awkward things to get used to, and I'm ok putting off the anxiety of losing one for awhile. Also, seeing old friends from college makes me super nostalgic, and not the least bit sentimental. Not to get to emotional on your asses, but I am really lucky when it comes to my friends. I have a lot, and they are all kick ass. More importantly, they are the type of friends you can not see for years and years and yet when you see them, you can jump back in like you haven't skipped a beat. That is a rare thing in life, and I know I hit the jack pot. Ok. Too much of a love fest right there.

Let this wash out the mental image of me hugging the world and sneezing rainbows.

Get your nails did.

2007-05-22T12:56:00.001-05:00

Two weeks ago, my friend, Marianna treated me to my first ever manicure as a birthday present. I think she is trying to give me the hint that it is high time I start acting like a lady. Why haven't I said anything about it until now? Well, it took two full weeks to really process what went down.

We went to Pinky, a cutely named nail place on Southport. We'd been planning this trip for some time now and I'd been worrying about it all along. Things I worried about:
1. Infection. I'm not convinced of the sterility of the tools they use and I really don't need a nail fungus to add to my growing list of fungal infections. Trust me, it's impressive.
2. Cuticle pushing. Creeps. Me. Out. I don't like the idea of people pushing anything back into my skin.
3. Pink. Places that choose a pink color scheme (or name, even if it is a cute play on words) generally freak me out, or at the very least, make me wary.

4. Pedicures. I probably need a pedicure, but I was really nervous about getting roped into a pedicure inadvertently while I was there. I'm just not mentally ready. All those feet. Bleh. I just threw up a little in my mouth just now imagining it.

This is what's going on inside all those pointy toe shoes.

5. Solely non-native English speakers serving me. It just makes me uncomfortable. They probably make great money but I feel uncomfortable getting pampered in a place where not one of the practitioners is local. Don't get me wrong. I love multiculturalism and if there had been an even mix between Asian, White, Black and Latin, I would have loved any one of them to slave over my nails. There was one Latina in the sea of Asians, so that helped my concerns, but still, something seems not right (don't get me started on the idea of a swath of foreigners hunched over attending to the corns on your feet!).

So, I faced these fears and received a very nice manicure. Suki worked on my nails, and man, could this woman file. I picked a lovely shade of white/beige so as to look as natural as possible. One of the "perks" of Pinky's is the "massage" you get while they do your nails. I use the word massage very loosely here because apparently, massage means to be punched by a 101 lbs woman. Literally. I was talking to Marianna when the massage portion started. It began innocently enough. Some gentle rubbing on my hands and forearms that felt very nice. Then, Suki made a fist and started pummeling me. I almost spit in Marianna's face, I wanted to laugh so hard. I could not keep a straight face to save my life. It hurt! Instead I just smiled at Suki. A smile that I hope said, "Oh my, that sure was relaxing" when it probably was saying something closer to "Bitch, I'm about to bruise your face like you just bruised my arm."

"Are you sure you don't want a happy ending?"

I have to say, my nails looked pretty awesome after they were done. I had successfully not bitten them for the three weeks leading up to this endeavor and it paid off. I looked VERY elegant. Actually, they didn't look like my hands at all. Those of you who know me know I have baby hands, but having my nails done really made my hands look more womanly. Or at the very least, pre-teeny. I can't say that I will every get a manicure again (pushing cuticles back DOES hurt) but it was an experience that I needed as a lady and I am grateful to Marianna for holding my hand (figuratively, I just had my nails done, man) through the whole process. Marianna also had a birthday not too too long ago for which I owe her a present. Let's just say her gift receiving trip will be in a whole other arena of things women like to do without men.

I'll give you a hint. It's not baking.

Lazy to the max.

2007-04-24T13:39:00.000-05:00

I am a lazy person. And far be it for me to judge others when I clearly have my own faults. However, I just witnessed such a display of laziness that even I, the girl who will hold her bladder for as long as possible at work because she doesn't like walking to the bathroom, was appalled. I got on the elevator at work and there were two plumbing guys already on. I was going to the eighth floor. They were trying to go to the 3rd floor, but for some reason the elevator wouldn't let them get off there. The button would not stay lit. So one of them pushes the second floor and says, " We can just get off on 2 and walk up." Then the other guy goes, "Yeah, we could, or we could get off at 4 and walk down." The first guy looks at the second guy, nods in agreement and presses 4. I checked and both of these men had full use of their legs. No limps. No canes. Super Mario was not a lazy plumber. Neither was Ron Jeremy.

I can understand if they hit 4 first. I can also understand if they were alone in the elevator and decided this was the best course of action. If I was alone I probably would have too. But I know for me, my embarrassment of my laziness usually springs me into action, especially if others are there to witness said laziness. But not these gentlemen. They had no problem stopping on an extra floor just so they could let gravity help them out as they walked down a flight of stairs. They unabashedly embraced their laziness, and maybe for that I should applaud them. Or maybe I should just be glad there are people out there who make me look like an Olympic athlete. I'm not yet sure.

I'm calling it Love.

2007-04-24T09:19:00.000-05:00

I have found what I have been searching for my entire life. It took awhile, but I always knew it was out there and I never really gave up hope that fate would bring us together. Now, I can't imagine life without it and hope I will never have to experience the dullness and un-fulfillment my life was before I had this. My beautiful friend Erin introduced us. And by "us" I mean me and the Vosges Barcelona Bar*. When I was in, you guessed it, Barcelona with Tina we had this dessert with a name called "Three textures of chocolate" or something like that. It was a chocolate cake with molten, gooey chocolate on the inside and chocolate shavings on the outside. However, there was another taste that was hard to identify and totally unfamiliar, especially paired with chocolate. It brought out the taste of the chocolate so strongly and complimented it so well, I couldn't believe I had never tasted it before. Tina and I reviewed the menu again and realized there was a tiny about amount of olive oil and salt drizzled over the cake. I know. I know it sounds disgusting. But I don't really think I have tasted anything that delicious in my life. So, I was telling Erin about this wonderful cake when she said, "Oh! Vosges has a candy bar called the Barcelona Bar. It has SALT in it!" Do they ever. This dream bar has milk chocolate, roasted nuts and rock salt in it. There isn't so much salt that it is overbearing, but just enough that every once and awhile your tongue comes across it and the stars collide creating the Big Bang of taste. People who know me will not be at all surprised that I love a candy bar with salt in it. But really, even for the non salt enthusiasts out there, this candy bar is a real treat. The downside? Um, it's $7! I KNOW! It nearly killed me to pay for it, but actually, I think it is better that it is so outrageously overpriced. If it where anything south of $5 I would buy one a day and that would not be good for anyone. A rescue crew would have to break into my apartment and find me asleep (or in a coma) on a bed of Barcelona Bar wrappers covered in chocolate, nuts and salt. When they tried to remove me I would stand up clutching my Barcelona Bar singing/screaming/crying Akon's "Don't Matter." So go out and splurge if you are at all interested in learning what an orgasm tastes like, however unaffordable that orgasm might be. Next best thing to chocolate covered salt? Chocolate covered Thom Yorke.

*Vosges also makes other candy bars besides the Barcelona Bar that seem almost as wonderful (The Calindia Bar, The Goji Bar, The Naga Bar and The d'Olivia Bar) but again, at 7 bucks a pop, I doubt I'll be trying them any time soon. That is unless Vosges wants to send me some free samples so that I can pimp them online. I'm ok with that.

Old and New

2007-04-13T16:29:00.000-05:00

I saw two great movies this week and thought I would share. The Gene Siskel Film Center was showing Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing. I'd never seen this movie before and must say, I really enjoyed it. I came away at the end feeling angry and confused, but it is the kind of movie you keep thinking about long after it is over. There was a Northwestern communications professor there leading a discussion, and before the movie she said that after the movie was made, the actor who played Sal, Danny Aiello, claimed Sal wasn't a racist, but the director, writer, actor, Spike Lee, claimed that he was. The character of Sal is pretty interesting and realistic, and I think a lot of that has to do with this discordance. Da Mayor, played by Ossie Davis was fun to watch, and right on the money. Currently I'm working on the moves from Rosie Perez' opening dance sequence. I was 8 when this movie came out, so clearly, I missed it the first time around. I'm glad I got to see it on the big screen. For those of you who also missed it, I highly recommend it.

Next I saw the movie The Host. Oh my. I doubt it will be in theaters much longer so you better go out and see it. It broke all kinds of box office records in South Korea and won several film festival awards. It is a South Korean monster movie that is dramatic and hilarious at the same time. Basically, the story revolves around a family who is fighting this mutated creature from the river in Korea. The characters in the family are so funny and lovable. I was totally captivated by the entire film. Also, there are some pretty satirical depictions of the United States that are amusing, scary and right on the mark. I don't want to say too much more about it, lest I give away any good parts, but I really think it is worth seeing.

Barcelona is for Llovers

2007-03-30T11:32:00.000-05:00

Today is the day that I tackle this blog. I have been feeling really anti-my blog lately, but I think it is passing. I guess since a month ago when I posted a cop out post about venereal disease, I have actually been pretty busy. For one, if you all didn't know, Steve Dahl read a portion of my blog on his show. It was horrifying and awesome at the same time. The highlight his commentary was when he said, "Hey Jenny, I got your Icelandic hot dog right over by here." I've been trying for awhile to embed this soundbite onto my site so you all can hear it, but, well, I don't know the first thing about that sort programming so it hasn't worked out so well. Maybe one day it will happen, but until then, use your imagination.

Way more exciting was my trip to Spain. Spain Spain Spain. I love Spain. I went to Barcelona and Salamanca with Tina (who kept a way better weblog of our trip on her site). It all began when Tina decided to run the marathon there and I took the opportunity to both cheer her on and return to Spain. Most of the time we were in Barcelona, which, next to Chicago, might be my favorite city in the world. Everything was sleek and stylish and hip and tasty and beautiful. The architecture there is directly from the freaky side of your imagination. It's Gothic meets Dali meets melting ice cream on a hot day meets fantasy. We stayed in the El Raval neighborhood which is hip and young and by the museum of contemporary art. I don't even know if I could begin to describe the restaurants. Sensual maybe. The food was out of this world good and the decor and atmosphere in the bars and dining establishments made you want to hunker down and live there for the next millennium. Everything was fantastic.

After Barcelona we went to Salamanca and a touch of Madrid. Salamanca was great and just how I remembered if from my study abroad experience. I saw my old roommate, Vanessa, who lives and studies there, as well as the Senora I stayed with. It was pretty funny seeing her, as she hadn't changed much and reminded me of this when she said, "You look so good. You look much skinnier and better than when you were last here. You hair looks so much better. You were fatter then." Thanks Pepa. It was great seeing Vanessa because she is one of my ultimate laughing partners. Being in Salamanca reminded me that I had forgotten the smell of the city. It is so distinct, and I hadn't smelled it since I left in 2001. It is a beautiful mixture jamon and pan (ham and bread). If I could bottle that smell and sell it, well, I probably wouldn't make any money, but I would be pretty happy.

Madrid stinks. Literally and figuratively. If you are going to Madrid, this is what you should see. The Reina Sofia, the Prado, the Palacio Real, the Plaza del Sol and that is it. The people aren't as nice, the food is not as good and it is more expensive and the ambiance sucks. Plus, someone cut the back of my purse and stole my passport, so that really sucked. I had to spend half a day at the embassy getting an emergency passport so I could get home. The good that came out of this, you may ask? I got a new passport picture to replace my old one where I had been compared to a butch, Canadian ice hockey player. I don't know if there is a more unflattering comparison possible. Overall, the trip was incredible, made even more so by the fact that I got to spend 10 days with my hetero-life mate, Tina. Laughing with her is one of my favorite activities and I got to do a lot of it on this trip.

In other news, well, there isn't much. I saw David Sedaris with my mom and friend, Stacey, on Easter. I love his essays. I had tears rolling down my eyes from laughter and my mom was wheezing, so that was a good sign. My brother was also in town this past week, along with another old friend from Spain, Jordan, along with her man. It was good having everyone visit. However, I am seriously behind on my Tivo and me and my couch have some alone time we need to spend with each other. I've been neglectful and I need to make up for it.

Mullet Lamp

2007-03-28T16:40:00.000-05:00

Lamp in the hostel I stayed at in Barcelona.

Coming Soon.

2007-03-23T13:16:00.000-05:00

My Trip to Spain.

VD

2007-02-14T15:35:00.000-06:00

Some VD's on V-Day

HPV

Herpes

Chlamydia

Gonorrhea

Syphilis

HIVReminding you to wrap it up. Happy Valentine's Day!

Heaven thy name is Margie

2007-01-31T09:25:00.000-06:00

Since you all responded so positively to the gluttony that is my Icelandic hot dog blog, I think I will devote yet another blog to food. Also, food gives me more enjoyment than it should, so it is all I can think to write about. I really wanted to do a photo blog documenting my trip to one of my new favorite places to eat in Chicago, but I didn't have my camera and frankly, I'm doing my best to not go back for at least a week. But I looked online and there were plenty of pictures representing just about everything I would have anyway (except a picture of me taking a large bite) so I think this will work.

I was out eating dinner with a friend the other night at a place that had no desserts. We were both craving something sweet so she said, "What about Margie's? Have you ever been there?" I have passed Margie's a million times and always wonder about it, but never stop in. She said, "You just have to go. You are going to love it."

You know when you see something from the outside, or hear about something and build up a picture of that thing in your head an it turns out it looks completely different? For example, I always have a picture in my head of what radio personalities (I enjoy the expression "radio personality" because it really sums up the experience of listening to someone on the radio, especially a talk show host. Because of the fact that you can't see them, it is their winning personality that hooks you. Just like a fat, witty girl.) look like and they very rarely look as I picture them, with the one exception being Ira Glass who looked EXACTLY as I pictured him. I've stopped looking because I'm always disappointed. I had a crush in high school on Steve Dahl until I realized he was in his fifties and looked like this. Not to say he doesn't have his own boyish good looks, but just not what I had expected, and not appropriate for a 16 year old. I had to take a 6 year sabbatical from listening to him to recover from the shock. (The addendum to this story is I have since developed fairly substantial crushes on his sons who are my age-ish, one of which went to Northwestern, my alma mater, not that I met him. Those crushes started spiraling out of control so I pretty much had to stop listening to Steve Dahl for awhile. I realized it is time to stop when you start fantasizing about Steve Dahl as your father-in-law. Really, I'm not crazy, I just have a colorful imagination.) So that was a pretty big tangent to illustrate a point. Margie's looked nothing like what I had expected. This place escaped every decade since the 1950's without alteration. The vinyl beige booths are probably still the same. The individual jukeboxes at every table, which I assume don't work, are still there. The needle point pictures of flowers adorning the wood paneling are still the same. My friend told me, "It's not kitschy. It's not hip. It's authentic." I couldn't have said it better myself.

We looked over their sizable menu of ice cream options before I settled on the Banana Split. Fudge was a must so I went with the three scooper that clearly indicated it had fudge. When I ordered, our stereotypically-Chicago-adorable-beyond-belief waitress indicated that I might want to get the banana split that just had the two scoops. I had considered that option, but as it didn't specify that it had fudge, I had moved on. Normally there is nothing I can't stand more than a waitress suggesting I am eating too much. However, after a quick sneer, I realized I like this woman's salt and pepper hair and I don't think she is judging me, so I won't insist on eating three scoops just to prove a point. I asked if the two scooper had fudge, which it did, so all was good.

Individual orgasms in each of my taste buds would not have been as wonderful as eating this ice cream. The fudge, was "kettle heated" and on the side and was thick and silky and glorious. It was the best and biggest two scoop banana split I have ever had and it was only $3.95. Cold Stone can suck my ass with their $5 mini scoops of nothing. I really don't know how I existed before I knew about this place, or how I lived in Chicago for so long without anyone telling me about it. I promise next time I go back to take my own photos to share with you all. Until then, may you have hot fudge like Margie's incorporated into every dream.

Icelandic Hot Dog: The Journey

2007-01-17T11:37:00.000-06:00

Back in May of 2005 I traveled to Iceland. You may have read about it or seen it. Well, among the many new experiences I had there, one of the best was the Icelandic Hot Dog. My friend Michelle recently returned from there and she brought back not only the Icelandic hot dog, but ALL the condiments. While I'm not sure there is a strong enough word to describe my joy, elated comes pretty close. The other night I decided to treat myself to the wonder that is Icelandic Hot Dogs.
1. Ingredients; buns, chopped onions,

Plysusinnep,
Remoladi, Hamborgara sosa, fried onions and Vinar Plysur, aka Fuckin' great hot dogs!

Now, I am not claiming that this is the "official" way to prepare Icelandic hot dogs. These are all the correct ingredients, but my order may be off. However, it all mixes together in the end. A delicious, hot doggy end.
First, delicately place the raw onions on the bun (If you like, you can toast your buns). Next, tenderly lay the hot dog on it's oniony, bready bed.

Then add the Plysusinnep on top of the dog. You can use as much or as little as you'd like.
Next, add Remoladi (which is like a mayonaissy relish) on top.Out comes the Hamborgara sosa for a nice coating. The colors of these sauces might not be the most appetizing, but trust me, it's worth it.
Cover the sauces with a thick layer of fried onions. You can most likely make these yourself, but I was given a bag of fried goodness to use.
I like to eat my hot dogs with beer. Probably you can eat your hot dogs with whatever beverage you prefer.Finally take a delicious, gigantic bite. Don't sit on the good furniture when you eat this concoction, it is messy. Just think of every bit of messiness that falls from your hot dog onto the plate as a wonderful treat for when you are done with your hot dog and wanting more. At least, that's how I do.
Can't you see the enjoyment, nay, elation on my face? I'm high on hot dog. There really isn't a better hot dog experience out there. I HIGHLY suggest hopping on a plane to Iceland to try it out. If you aren't sold on the "going to Iceland for the authentic Icelandic hot dog experience" idea, you can buy all you need right here. There are a number of other Icelandic goods that you can get from there, but trust me, you want to start with the hot dogs. The rotten shark is really not for everyone.

PS. I did some REALLY interesting things with Sloppy Joe's last night. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.

Occupying time

2007-01-11T10:37:00.000-06:00

Because my life consists of barely waking up, going to work, checking my mail for medical school news and watching everything on my Tivo, I decided to take up a few activities to fill my time. Cleaning is the most important one and probably the one that will see the smallest playing time. My apartment is a disaster and it is about time I got my life in order. I need to get rid of a lot of crap, but I also need to be more diligent about cleaning in general. More than once I've had people (people who know me well, I might add) come into my apartment, glance around and ask me in all seriousness, "Are you depressed?" If that is what my apartment is saying about me I need to seriously reconsider either my mental health or my design scheme.

I've started doing more knitting. This either makes me an old woman who is in the market for cats or a trendy hipster who is on her way to knitting a blanket that will cover the world in peace and love. I made my first real hat (the first attempt ended up looking like something Marylou Who would wear) over Christmas and it wasn't half bad. I am attempting another hat with some interesting accoutrements so we will see how that goes.
Lastly, I have decided it is time for me to become familiar with my kitchen. It's never been so much that I can't cook, but more that I have a secret (or not so secret if you've ever ridden in my car) love affair with McDonalds and I am lazy. As I drive home from work, McDonalds starts its siren song and I am lured in. But since the new year, I have successfully (except for 2 minor indiscretions) avoided McDonalds and feasted on my own creations at home. Now, for the most part, "my own creations" means macaroni and cheese, sloppy joes or a can of soup. Not necessarily rocket science, though their deliciousness quotiant cannot be ignored. But last night I figured it was high time to bring out my crock pot and go to town. Crock pots are the most wonderful things because it is virtually impossible to mess up your food in them. They cook everything beautifully. You just throw in a few ingredients in the morning, turn it on and then voila, you have a home cooked meal for when you get home at night. I made Coq Au Vin last night for my friends Caleb and Shannon. Caleb has meat and cheese restrictions (!!) so chicken was the clear choice. The only thing that would have made this meal perfection would have been the addition of goat cheese, but then again, what meal without goat cheese could ever reach perfection? I'm pretty impressed with myself, to say the least. Meals for the upcoming days include: Icelandic hot dogs (they are lamb) with all the Icelandic trimmings (Michelle just returned from their and brought back some goodies), beer cheese soup and chicken pot pie with cornbread topping. I cannot wait.

10,006*

2007-01-08T10:28:00.000-06:00

This weekend marked the ten thousandth visit to my website. I only wish I knew exactly who it was because there might be a t-shirt in it for them. A t-shirt with a big picture of my face giving two thumbs up to their impeccable timing and breathe-taking good looks. It only took 2 years for it to happen, but happen it did. If my mother actually read this blog I would shove it in her face that people DO want to know about the most trivial details of my life, 10,000 times. In all actuality it is more like 10 visitors who are either:
1. People who know me personally and are obsessed with reading blogs, no matter how stupid (thanks guys.)
2. People who are sent here by blogger against their will
3. People who are referred here by dear, dear friends who have taken pity on me and linked to this website.
4. People who are searching for bestiality porn (I don't know why alljenny leads them to this but it does and also, do you have to say bestiality porn or can you just say bestiality and the porn is implied?)
5. People who are searching for some derivation of the word "poop."

All the same, I love you all and hope you continue to keep reading.

I wish I had a funny anecdote to commemorate this day. I had a great weekend, but nothing extraordinarily funny happened. Actually, a few things funny happened, but believe it or not, I'm not going to share them so they can be read 10,000 more times. A girl must keep some mystery about her.

* The 10,006 is the number on my counter I first saw when I noticed I'd reached 10,000. The 6 really gives me crediblity because it suggests 10,000 wasn't just a fluke.

Nine gay guys and a partridge in a pear tree

2007-01-02T13:54:00.000-06:00

This holiday season has treated me nicely and provided me with a few things I'd like to share.

Before Christmas, I returned to my apartment to find Landlady waiting anxiously by the door to the building. I walked in, said hello and moved to my mailboxes. I asked her if anything was wrong and she told me that she found some suspicious people in the building, had asked them to leave and then called the police, who she was waiting for. She said she went in the elevator with them just to make sure they were leaving. At this point, she says they started saying, "motherfucker this, and cunt that." There are few things more hilarious than a 70 year old woman telling you how she was called a cunt. Or just a 70 year old saying the word cunt. It never gets old. (also, another story is via my father who said, as we were driving on Paulina to dinner, "there are three streets in Chicago that rhyme with vagina. Paulina, Molina (which, to my knowledge is not a street) and Rant." I looked at him laughing, understood where this joke was going and said, " you mean, Lunt?" He laughed a little more and said, "right, Lunt." My brother didn't quite get it at first, so I said, "Lunt...Cunt...get it." David looked at me, appalled and said, "I can't believe you just said cunt in front of our parents." I didn't start it.) So the police come, I leave. I call Landlady later to check that everything was ok. She starts on about how she is old and is a "ballsy old broad" and how she has become this way with age (which I highly doubt). She says to me, verbatim, "There is this old proverb that I just made up that states..." It isn't important what the old proverb she made up states. It is more important to acknowledge Landlady for the philosopher that she is.

In other Landlady news, I saw her after christmas with my brother. I asked her how she was to which she responded, "I've been hung over for 5 days. The doctor says it is because of my GERD." I said, "So you had a good time over Christmas?" She says, "Good time? I ended up passed out on the floor with nine gays guys and my dog on top of me." Good time indeed.

I spent some quality time with several of my friends this holiday season. Rud made a pit stop in Elgin which included empanadas was capped off with a beer at Dutch Inn West. Wow. I'd never been before. I always thought it was a place where old dudes sat and drank beer all day, like Moe's on the Simpsons. I wasn't far off. But there were also a lot of young, really drunk people there too. Also, there are hipsters in Elgin. Who knew? Rud was sporting some SERIOUS chops. As a huge fan of facial hair I give it two thumbs way up. It was an awesome time. I hung out with Didi and Adolphus and some old high school folks as well. The lawyer to non lawyer ratio at the table was 1:1 which is downright scary. However, I'm sure some time in my life I will run into a situation where legal advice is needed, so it is good to know I can get a first, second, third through 100th opinion on whatever my situation might be. At one point over dinner we were having a conversation about flashing, or poop or waxing and Erin said, "I think we had this same conversation seven years ago." There is a part of me that likes to see how old friends have changed, but there is also that part of me that feels good knowing some things never change.

More than anything, I watched a shit ton of TV. I watched the entire first season of Extras and the Ali G show, both of which are hilarious. I'm not sure, but I think I might be developing a bit of a crush on Ricky Gervais. My crush for Sacha Baron Cohen was cemented some time ago so these recent Ali G episodes really only fueled the fire. Also, I watched Wayne's World, Ghostbusters, Who framed Roger Rabbit and Groundhog Day. What I learned from these movies is 1. Cars looked funny in the 80's and early 90's. I can't wait to see what cars of the future look like. 2. Bill Murray is a stud. 3. Wayne's World introduced me to a lot of rock songs that to this day take me back to Aurora, IL when I hear them. I also watched Night at the Museum, Notes on a Scandal, Thank you for Smoking and Little Miss Sunshine. These movies taught me much less about myself except that I LOVE Little Miss Sunshine. (Don't even try and log the number of hours it would require to watch this much TV because first, you will be baffled at how a living, breathing person can sit on her ass for that long and then you will realize you have grossly underestimated the number because I am not even including the fact that I watched 50 First Dates 3 times, simply because it was on.)

I did not make New Year's resolutions. I have in the past and not one of them has come to fruition. Sure I'd like to lose weight and exercise more. I'd also like to shower more frequently and blow dry my hair more often. I could also try keeping my apartment from looking like a mentally ill person lives there and taking more public transportation. But saying that I'm going to do these things and actually doing them are two VERY different things. So why start the year off on a note of pending disappointment. If I accomplish any of these things I will be pleasantly suprised. Instead, I made a New Year's wish. It is like a birthday wish when you blow out the candles, but only more powerful because you have the weight of the earth's rotation thrusting it into being. I'll let you know if the thrust was strong enough by Dec. 31st 2007 at the latest.

I think that is most of what I wanted to say to you all. If there is more, I will use it for another blog entry, hopefully in the not so distant future. That could have been another resolution, blogging more, but I'm pretty sure I made that one last year and hopped on the disappointment train early. Let's try something new this year, shall we?

Keep it to yourself

2006-12-04T22:01:00.000-06:00

Today was my lab final and per usual, I was outside the classroom before class, reviewing my notes. It has been a bit cold here lately, and I was still thawing from my walk over to the building. I had my coat on, all buttoned up and I had a scarf around my neck too. It wasn't hanging loosely, but wrapped delicately around my neck. I was talking with my lab partner about one of the experiments when I hear "Hey grandma" next to me. I wasn't really listening, so I just ignored it and continued reading off my page. Then I hear again, "Grandma. Hey, grandma." Now I think to myself, 'I know this moron next to me is talking to me, but I'll be damned if I acknowledge him.' One more time, "Grandma, hey you." My lab partner looks at me and goes, " he's talking to you." I look at my lab partner, then down at my page and coolly say loud enough for him to hear, "Perhaps, but I know he doesn't think he is gonna call me grandma and have me respond to that." I even did a head bob/wave thing for emphasis. The kid chuckles, says sorry, then asks me some dumb question from lab. Here's the thing. I don't know this kid. I don't know his name, and won't know him from Adam except for the fact that he has been in my lab for the last semester. Our first words were exchanged last week when he discovered I was a post bac and 25. He seemed astonished. How is someone gonna say to a stranger with whom he has no rapport, "hey grandma." I don't know if it was because he knew I was older or because I was bundled up like old auntie Sadie, but apparently, something about me was screaming grandma. What is it about me that makes people feel free to say to me whatever stupid thing pops in their head? Do I look like I am asking to be insulted by strangers? Perhaps. Just in case you were having trouble picturing my 25 year old granny ass self, I've included a picture. Actually, I am frightened by how easily my grandma pose came. Perhaps this fool was on to something.

Thanksgivingness

2006-11-23T22:36:00.000-06:00

It's Thanksgiving, my favorite of all holidays. I love it because the basic requirements of Thanksgiving are few and simple. 1. Eat a lot of food. Turkey is a must, unless you are a crazy vegetarian. Also, all things carbohydrate are required. Alcohol consumption, while not mandatory, should be encouraged. 2. Spend time with people you love. This can be family. This can be friends. This can be strangers that you take a liking to immediately. These are the only tenets of Thanksgiving and therefore the opportunity to enjoy oneself is maximized. Also on Thanksgiving, I think it is important to take stock of one's life and give thanks. This doesn't have to be public and it doesn't have to be to god, but I think it is important to at least reflect and acknowledge the good things you've got going on. Usually, I choose to be private about this endeavor but this year I'll share a few of the things I am thankful for.

Thanks. In no particular order.
1. My family. I am lucky to have a family whose company I truly enjoy. We may not be large in number, but we are large in affection. I get along with my family in a way many people dream of. Many times, I would choose to spend time with them over doing anything else and for that I am thankful.

2. My friends. I've realized that I have friends from every period in my life. I haven't always been as diligent in keeping in touch with them, but for some reason or other they have stuck with me and not because I pay them. They are all pretty different from one another, but they all share one or more personality trait in common with me and it usually involves laughing. I am really lucky to have such a large group of people I love and who I assume love me back.

3. A pretty good brain. This might sound egotistical, but I feel like I have a good mind. It is not the best. I don't learn many things easily but I am able to understand many things over time. I don't suffer from mental illness and degradation has not yet started (at least as far as I can tell). My brain has taken me pretty far in life and I look forward to the many new things me and my brain will accomplish in the future.

4. My health. I'm rarely sick. I have no major diseases or lapses in health other than the occasional fainting spell (which is due to my sensitive disposition and not a weakness in character). I also have pretty awesome genes working in my favor. I'm not saying I'll never get sick, but so far my body has held up incredibly, especially considering I've done very little to maintain it other than eat gynormous amounts of food.

5. Good TV shows. This might sound trivial, but TV is one of the few things that helps me relax. My mind can be in all sorts of places, but when I sit down in front of the TV I really zone out and forget about my issues, even if only temporarily. Programs I particularly enjoy are The Office, 2 and a Half Men, America's Next Top Model, Scrubs, My Name is Earl and House. There are others I watch less frequently. If I'm in the mood for a good cry I can always rely on Extreme Home Makeover. If I want to laugh out loud America's Funniest Home Videos is my automatic go to.

6. My job. I don't always love my job. In fact, many times I am bored out of my mind. However I am thankful to have a job and I am thankful to have a job that most of the time I enjoy. I like the people I work with, both co-workers and clients and I like the subject matter. My work has taught me a lot about the "real world" and I think I'd be a much more naive person if I hadn't held it.

7. My sense of self. Again, another egotistical sounding thanking point, but I am pretty comfortable in my own skin and I think that is something to be happy about. I certainly have my insecurities, but more often than not I am really happy with the person I am. Whether it is a blessing or just good luck, I don't know, but I am glad I like me.

8. Being a woman. There are many times I am frustrated with my sex. However, if I ever had to choose, I would always pick being a chick. Maybe it is because I still have a profound lack of understanding of men, but I appreciate all the things being a member of the fairer sex affords me. I particularly I enjoy the understanding that leaving urine all over the toilet is a pretty gross thing to do, especially in one's own home.

9. Dance. Without dancing I would be a lot less happy than I am. Many people have witnessed my dance outbursts, though most of my practice happens in the privacy of my own home. Currently I am working on the Chicken Noodle Soup dance and the Crip Step. I'll never be the best, but there is something about pumping up the volume to Safety Dance by Men Without Hats or Missy Elliot's Work It that just fills me with glee and energy every single time.

10. Goat cheese. Alright, this one is a little more specific than the last 9 but my life would be a whole lot less wonderful without goat cheese. Granted, I'd be about 15 pounds lighter, but I'm convinced that this particular 15 pounds gives me my jolly, goat cheese induced spirit. Other than Sloppy Joes, a finer food has never been created.

11. Gravity. Sure it keeps us from floating into the atmosphere, but more importantly, it makes people fall down. Maybe I shouldn't end my list on a mean spirited note but watching people fall, especially when they are not hurt badly, is the funniest thing to watch on the planet. I'm sorry if I've ever laughed at any of you when you've fallen, but know I do it out of love and that if you needed a ride to the emergency room I'd be the first one to offer. Also, if I EVER fall in front of you, please, PLEASE laugh, because I will always know where you are coming from. When gravity works against us it is just plain hilarious.

So those are some of the things I am thankful for this year. Obviously this list is abbreviated but you get the picture. I would love to hear some of the things you all are thankful for as well. I hope the holiday finds you all happy and healthy and dancing in your underwear in front of your mirror at night. Happy Thanksgiving.

To be young again

2006-11-05T11:08:00.000-06:00

I had dinner last night with some long time friends. Alexis, Erin, Lindsay, Marianna and I all went to middle school and high school together. It is fun to get together with them because it reminds me of the times when you could be totally ridiculous and hyper without the aid of alcohol (though admittedly, alcohol was often times involved). The pictures I am sharing with you are after only approximately one margarita, so our foolishness cannot be attributed to the sauce. Don't you remember when you were younger and you would start laughing hysterically with a friend over absolutely nothing? I have memories with each one of these ladies doing just that, and when I see them now, I am reminded of those days. As I get older, I find fewer and fewer friends who I can just be stupid with and who will laugh along with me. When you do find those types of friends, it is like finding a soul mate because they are amused by the same dumb shit as you are. A really good way to bring out these hysterics is pictures and video. When we were younger, we would all get together and make these ridiculous, sugar high infused videos. I still crack up when I watch these because you can feel the giddiness oozing off the screen. When I went to Spain for study abroad I met a few "soul mate" friends and whenever we would get our pictures back from being developed, we would look at them and laugh over every picture. Laugh is actually the wrong word because it describes something much more restrained than what we were actually doing. Digital cameras are just the right medium for producing immediate hilarity, and last night we used this technology to our advantage. These are just a few of the ridiculous photos we took. I'm also including some normal pictures of these ladies to prove they are not as freakish as they appear in some pictures. Still, it is fun. I hope it translates to a wider audience, though probably not. This is more likely one of those, "you had to be there" moments, so just indulge me.

Blonde Halloween

2006-11-01T17:46:00.000-06:00

Happy Halloween!

3-D life

2006-10-27T11:28:00.000-05:00

I LOVE 3-D! Really, any movie in 3-D just rulez. That is right, I spelled rulez with a z because that is how awesome 3-D is. I went to see a movie with my friend Michelle's daughter. She is five, so there are limits to what you can see, though admittedly, she is much braver than I am when it comes to scary movies, so I really place my own restrictions on what I see. Anyway, I thought we could see the movie Open Season. I noticed Open Season was playing at the IMAX in 3-D and really, the choice was made right then and there. IMAX is usually pretty awesome, but IMAX in 3-D just is an adventure the entire time. Sitting there with my gigantore 3-D glasses on took me back to when I was little and in Orlando, Florida and my parents took me to see a 3-D movie with Michael Jackson, Captain EO*. Somehow, I bet there are a lot of you readers out there who have seen this movie. It blew me away, especially when the little robots are flying at you. I remember how enchanted I was by the special effects and only hope that this kid felt the same way. Open Season was actually pretty funny, and because there were poop jokes, there were several points at which I was laughing out loud. Maybe the poop jokes were over the kids' heads (there was a song about flatulence and I pretty much lost it) because my laughter was not surrounded by little kid laughter. It was actually a little embarrassing to have the other adults with kids there notice my juvenile sense of humor, but it was funny. There was a preview for 3-D Dinosaurs, which I FOR SURE won't miss. Also, A Nightmare before Christmas is being re-released in 3-D and you better believe I'll be there for that. If I could have written this blog in 3-D, I would have, just so I could convey how cool it is. I really want to see Captain EO now that I think about it because maybe there were poop jokes in it that I missed as a kid. That would be a shame to miss, really.

* I just read the description of Captain EO and apparentlly I really don't remember much of the movie at all. Angelica Houston was in it? The story line sounds pretty pathetic if you ask me, and I'm pretty sure there were no hidden poop jokes. It doesn't seem like Francis Cord Coppola's style.

Chicken Shack with a Suitcase.*

2006-10-20T18:20:00.000-05:00

Enough time has gone by that I can adequately reflect and relay my trip to New York. I'll be honest. Something about New York has always rubbed me the wrong way. It just annoys me and I really have wanted nothing to do with it. I still feel this way for the most part. However, I really enjoy Brooklyn. What a cool area. That is where my brother lives. He teaches in New York and I went to spend a long weekend with him. This is what we did.
On Saturday we went shopping in Park Slope, went to a farmer's market, went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden (where there was a strange man take pictures of the creepiest doll ever) and went to Manhattan to see a play called Avenue Q and ate there as well. Avenue Q is a pretty hilarious show. Neither my brother nor myself are huge musical lovers, but this show, what with its songs about the internet being for porn, everyone being racist and having no skills after college, coupled with a touch of puppet sex, well, let's just say this show was right up our alley. Sunday we went to this restaurant Rice where we split coconut french toast and eggs benedict with pork tenderloin. So good. We then went to see the movie the Science of Sleep with Gael Garcia Bernal. sigh. Freaky ass movie, but good if you like Michel Gondry films. We then walked across the brooklyn bridge into Manhattan. We ate at some restaurant called Edwards with David's friends and saw Christopher from the Sopranos. Monday we drove down to Coney Island and went to the Aquarium and ate some Nathan's hotdogs. We drove back, did some more shopping in Williamsburg then went to Junior's for dinner and cheese cake. Tuesday, I went with David to his school to talk to his classes about college, my job and HIV prevention. Personally, I don't know how my brother does it. The kids were cool and all, but keeping a class of high schoolers under control is no easy task and let's just say these kids were gifted at the art of not listening. Overall, I had a wonderful time. I know this is more of a play by play of my trip and less of the reflection I promised, so sue me. It was rad and I can't wait to go visit again.

* The title of this post can be attributed to my friend David (not my brother) who, upon hearing I was going out of town yet again called me and said, "Weeellll chicken shack with a suitcase, off again." I still don't really understand what it means, except the suitcase is meant to indicate travel. David is weird, but secretly, I kinda like the name.

Also, I know the format of this sucks and it is hard to read, but I really wanted to include all these pictures and blogger does not have the best tools for this. So sorry.

Would that make me a MILF? (Please God)

2006-10-16T17:40:00.000-05:00

I am still putting off writing about New York because I have a test tomorrow and I don't have the time to truly discuss my vacation. However, I wanted to share this little tidbit with you.
This weekend The Art Institute had a portfolio day for aspiring young artists to show their portfolios to art schools across the country to get feedback. I was there for moral support with Lindsay who is applying to graduate art programs. Most of the other people there, however, were applying for undergraduate. Fresh faced youth hoping to really make it in the art world. Actually, when I say fresh faced, I actually mean, incredibly greasy and unkempt faced. Maybe I am jsut getting old, and if my mother actually read this blog she would say, "SEE! I've always been right!" But I don't understand how these kids can go to a semi-professional showing of their art in sweatpants. Yeah yeah, I know they are artists, but come on. Sweat pants? To talk to someone at a college you hope to go to? I'm not talking about the artsy funky dressed kids. Just the slovenly ones. And I don't know how any parent would accompany their child to this event and allow them to wear the things I saw them wear. Anyway, the lines to see some of the schools were incredibly long and one school which Lindsay was particularly interested in, The Rhode Island School of Design, had an insanely long line. So I offered to wait while Lindsay talked to some other schools. So I was standing in line and there was a woman sitting down in a chair next to the line.
Me: Long lines, huh?

Woman: Yeah, I had no idea it would be like this. I told my daughter to just call me when she got to the front of the line.

Me: Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. I'm holding a place for someone myself.

Woman: This is just chaotic.

Me: Uh huh.

Woman: So are you here with your son?

Me: Uhhh...Um. No. Uh, Just a friend.

Woman: Oh

...

...
Me: Do I look old enough to have a child going to college?

Woman: Well, you never know. Kids these days, having children so young.

Me: Right, I hear ya. (Cause I know a lot of 7 year olds who have children these days. It's an epidemic.)

I mean, really? She couldn't have said, "Are you applying to school?" I know I didn't have a portfolio, but come on. Do I really look like I could have a 17 year old? Really? Really? All I am saying is I am throwing out whatever sweater outfit I was wearing that day because I must have inadvertantly dipped into my mom-sweater stash. (There is also the question of why she assumed I had a son and not a daughter, but I'll just assume she is nuts. That solves all these questions.)

Oh and by the way, Lindsay's stuff kicks ass. Big Ass.

Been away so long

2006-10-12T14:52:00.000-05:00

I know there has been a bit of delay in my writing, but there have been reasons. I like to think that some of them are actually good. The most imposing reason is I have been trying like a mad woman to get my secondary applications for medical school completed and sent off to be scrutinized. I have such anxiety, you don't even know. As if my future acceptance to medical school hinges on whether or not I use the word "pursue" or the phrase "work towards."I hate writing essays and I hate formal writing. I also hate placing every experience in the history of my life in the context of a path towards medical school. Oh well, I'm coming to a close and hopefully there will be interviews to follow.
I was in New York this past weekend visiting my Brohaus. We had some good times. However, I want to devote an entire blog entry to the visit because it was that good a trip. There are some pretty hilarious pictures. I'll give you a preview.

Inrigued, aren't you? Well, keep an eye out because that post will come soon. Promise.

Also, I've been reading the book Kite Runner and I have already wept twice in front of strangers and I'm only half way through. Needless to say, the book is very good.

Am I what?

2006-09-17T20:42:00.000-05:00

Last week I was casually working when a co-worker stepped into the room I was in and started chit-chatting. Let me preface the rest of this story with the fact that said co-worker is decidedly crazy. I know this, but somehow, it doesn't help. So she is going on and on about something crazy and I am trying to ignore her while looking stuff up on the computer. Then the following conversation ensued:
Crazy: "Did you Blah blah blah something ...weight?"

Me: "Excuse me?"

Crazy: "Are you gaining weight?"

. . .

Me: "Uh...I don't know. Maybe."

Crazy: "Yeah, you look like you've put on some weight."

Me: (thinking up ways to poison her)

Crazy: "Are you pregnant?"

. . .

. . .

Me: "Uh...no."

Crazy: "Are you sure? I've been trying to get you alone all day to ask you."

Me: "Trust me. Not pregnant." (But thanks for pointing out that I look as though I appear pregnant enough that the odds were high enough for you to take a chance and ask me if I was pregnant, because as we all know, you wait until that belly is about to pop, and even then you don't ask unless she is clearly wearing maternity clothes and it is her baby shower.)

Crazy: "Well, all I know is, you've been looking like you've put on some weight lately."

. . .

Crazy: "Let me continue on in some more nonsensical babble on topics other than your recent weight gain and possible pregnancy...or better yet, let me just read from the bible."

I know this woman is nuts. Everyone knows it. But I also know that she has made me wear large sweaters, t-shirts and jackets for the last week, even though it was warm enough for bikinis. Bitch. This encounter is only more evidence of how loony she really is because she thought it apropriate to both call another woman fat and read the bible (new testament) to a jew in the same conversation. That is just poor judgement. I'm not saying there is no truth in her observations. I don't weigh myself for the very reason that it puts me into a serious funk like the one I'm now in. I can't look in the mirror, my hair always looks like crap and I might as well go get my moo moo now because my pants will never fit again. Even if I weigh the same as the day before, I feel like a sausage in everything I try on. I might have put on some weight lately, but I don't need crazy people to point that out to me. This is even more depressing after my ridiculous last post containing substantial clues to my weight management problems. I just like to keep thinking that I can eat hostess cupcakes and maybe, maybe, still manage to lose weight. Call me a dreamer, call me deluded, all I know is it gets me through the day without imaging myself dead on the autopsy table with the coroners laughing at how many fat layers they had to cut through and how they needed a crane just to lift my goat cheese filled ass on to the table. Crap. I might even have to start exercising now. Thanks a lot crazy.

Bad Habits

2006-09-11T17:54:00.000-05:00

What I've eaten since 8:47am Sunday morning:
8:47 am- Bagel with cream cheese
1:15 pm- Ear of corn and yellow tomato with goat cheese
7:30 pm- Bagel with cream cheese + yellow tomato + vadalia onions
7:15 am - Top of cinnaman muffin
7:18 am - Piece of beef jerky, teriaki flavored
7:30 am - 2 apples
10:30 am - More beef jerky
2:30pm - Cheetos puffs
2:45 pm - The rest of the jerky
3:00 pm - Chocolate chip cookie and ginger ale

Ok, so I knew that I had some serious eating problems, which is why I wrote this for all of you, but I had NO idea it would be this bad. I'm actually pretty embarrassed. Not so embarrased that I won't post it, but just embarrassed enough to maybe do something about it. Part of my problem is I HATE grocery shopping, so I don't have much to pick from. Then, when I do go to buy food, I gravitate towards high calorie, low nutritional value type foods. I had an embarrassing incident that I won't go into, but it required me speaking with a doctor. The doctor asked what I'd eaten that day and I had to admit that all I'd eaten by 4 pm was oatmeal, 2 beers and raw cookie dough. I cursed myself that of course I had to have an incident that day, but truth be told, most days are humiliating to recall as far as diet is concerned. I blame it on my parents, who had the LARGEST snack drawer ever when I was growing up. I never learned the food pyramid. Maybe it was private school. I don't know, but something must be done. To my credit, I did take out a chicken breast from the freezer to thaw for dinner. Hopefully I can find some sort of cheese/molasses/lard topping for it.

The sky just may fall.

2006-09-01T12:16:00.000-05:00

Today has been one of those days where you keeping looking up because you are expecting the sky to fall. First I have a cold. I deplore colds in the summer because I feel cheated. I'm hot already, and while the temperature is cool right now, it's not always that way, and I already feel like it's 90 degrees, so when it's actually hot out it is unbearable. If it were winter, EVERYONE is sick, it is cold outside and you don't have to feel like you are missing out by staying home sick. I am going to my parents house tonight and I haven't done laundry in what may fearfully be approaching close to a month, therefore leaving my home this morning I had two laundry baskets full of clothes in my arms. I was running late for school and I just needed to get out the door. I did. I just happened to leave my keys and cell phone inside. Sigh. So now I have two loads of laundry and no car to put them in. I leave the laundry in the hall and make a bee line for the train. By the time I get to campus, I am already 35 minutes late for a 50 minute class, so I don't go. I worked in the computer lab for an hour and then headed back. I got to the platform just as the train was leaving, so I had to wait. There is nothing I hate more than arriving just as a train is leaving. It's happened several times and because of this, my usual policy is, if I'm going to be cutting it close, I just dawddle so to intentionally miss the close call train and amble my way to the next one. I had to pay the $10 lockout key to Landlady. On top of that, Landlady is sick. I think she has always been sick, but now I think she is really really sick. I felt pretty bad for her.
That's been my day so far. Not the worst, not even close, but it's not over with and so far it has recipe for disaster written all over it. But I still have hope. After all, tomorrow I go to the kane county flea market and part with some money. I can't wait to see what kind of crap I can end up with! Maybe I'll take some photos to share with you. It is ALWAYS a sight, that's for sure.

Success with Cinema

2006-08-24T11:10:00.000-05:00

I have been on a good streak of movie watching lately (ie two movies) and I'd like to share with you my thoughts.
The first movie I have to recommend is Little Miss Sunshine. I heard good things about this movie back during the Sundance Film Festival and made a mental note to go see it. Suprisingly, my mental note stuck and when I saw previews for the movie, I remembered that I had wanted to see it. It surpassed even my high expectations. Every single one of the characters is spectacular and I think at any given point in the movie I wanted to swoop in a hug at least three of them. Steve Carell's character was both different than any other role I have seen him play, but also just as infectious and odd. I've never really liked Toni Collette, but she really won me over. Alan Arkin is also in this movie. I now know who he is. For years I just assumed when I saw Alan Arkin they really meant to write Alan Alda. I can't remember anything else I have seen Alan Arkin in, but I know I have, and I can't remember liking him as much as I did in this movie. The kids, Duane and Olive (which I happen to think I fantastic names for children, especially Olive) are great and at one point, really nicely show the connection siblings have with one another. I don't want to give too much away, but there is a dance scene at one point and I was literally holding my arms tense to keep them from dancing along. Go see it.

The second movie was Transamerica. I have had this movie from netflix since April, but finally yesterday I had some time to watch it. I heard equally good things about this movie, and always assumed it would be good. But I knew it would be really really good when my father a.) liked it and b.) didn't even know the transexual character was played by a biological woman. I don't watch Desperate Housewives and I can't recall seeing Felicity Huffman in anything else, but I do know that I am now a big fan. I don't know how she got in the headspace of a male to female transexual, but she did and I couldn't have believed her more. Throughout the movie you go from thinking this is the weirdest person ever, to really adoring her. It is sad and funny and wonderful. What made it good was the story showed you a glimpse into the life of a transgendered person without saying, "Here is the life of a transgendered person." It is the cross country adventure and the trepidation of a new relationship(not sexual) that is the lens through which the lifestyle of this character is shown and I think it is marvelous.

So there are two suggestions. Other movies I hope to see in the coming year (some out, some not) are Running with Scissors (I read the book and enjoyed it),Half Nelson, BEERFEST!!!!! (I place it in capitals and exclamation points because that is just how excited I am to see this movie), The Illusionist. . . that's all I can think of, though I know for a fact there are more.

First is the worst...

2006-08-23T11:49:00.000-05:00

I was listening to pandora.com which, if you are unfamiliar, allows you to put in bands or songs that you like, and they play it, along with similar sounds that you also might enjoy. It can be pretty hit or miss, especially until you put in a lot of songs you like. So I was listening to my Roisin Murphy Station and up pops a Madonna song. I really don't enjoy Madonna and haven't heard one of her songs in the last 7 years. But I understand some people really love her and claim she is quite the songstress. I have never really disagreed, mostly because I really enjoy the song erotica and would be forced to question my taste. Anyway, the song that came on was I Love New York from her Confessions album. Not only was it bad, it was really, really bad. I'm sharing the lyrics with you to illustrate just how bad it could be.

I don't like cities
But I like new york
Other places make me feel like a dork
Los Angeles is for people who sleep
Paris and London
Baby you can keep

[Chorus]
Other cities always make me mad
Other places always make me sad
No other city ever made me glad except New York
I love New York [X3]

If you don't like my attitude
Then you can F off
Just go to Texas
Isn't that where they golf

New York is not for little pussies who scream
If you can't stand the heat
Then get off my street [repeat]

[Chorus]

I love New York [repeat]
Get off my street [repeat]

I'm sorry, "I like New York, other places I feel like a dork"? I mean, I haven't heard lyrics like this since my trash talking days of four square during recess circa 1989. Seriously, once I accused little Becky L. of ripping one and she countered with, "whoever smelt it dealt it." Not wanting to be out done I starred her down, then rolled my eyes and said, "Becky, whoever made the rhyme did the crime." There was no coming back from that. Madonna must have been listening in on our Girl Scout dance competition when my BFF Katie and I danced our pants off to Wild, Wild West by Club Escape (of which I just looked up the lyrics to and they discuss safe sex. How progressive.). When we told those little bitches, who stole our song Cocomo from the Beach Boys, to F off, we smacked hands then flipped our permed hair around and muttered, " hey, why don't you dorks just go play some golf." While we didn't realize that it was in fact us who were the golf playing dorks in the group, our attitude got the point across and no one stole our song again. Who knew then in my life that dancing may not have been my future career as I dreamed, but rather I could have become a world-renowned pop singer/songwriter. Though I don't really like yoga or nasty red strings tied around my wrist, and I think that is part of the package. Oh well. Madonna, congratulations for succeeding, however the hell you did it. Just stay away from my secret lyric book, thief.

On another note, a Kelly Osbourne song just came on (which is funny because she covered that Madonna song, Papa don't Preach) called Entropy. 1. I might have to give up on this station. It doesn't seem to really understand what I am all about like my Fiona Apple station does. 2. I was thinking yesterday that if I were ever to get a personalized license plate it would say Entropy4. I choose it over enthalpy and Gibbs free energy for its rock n' roll implications and brevity.

Nothing a little aloe won't fix

2006-08-21T16:01:00.000-05:00

As you could tell by the pictures in the previous post, I was in South Carolina recently. It is one of my favorite places on earth. We stay close to the beach and so it is easy to come and go from the beach whenever the mood strikes you. It isn't a crowded beach and the best part of the whole day happens at 6 pm when EVERYONE leaves and you have the entire beach to yourself. The water is incredibly warm, like 80 degrees warm and you can really just float all day long. I like spending time with my parents there too. My mom is a beach bum at heart and can stay out there all day, no break. My dad only comes out at the 6 pm hour, and just floats in the water. Also, they both insist on wearing aquasocks into the water. Always. Yes they still make aquasocks, as incredible as that might seem and if you have ever met my parents, especially my father, then you can imagine the sight of them in aquasocks. Yikes. Also, I love beach hair more than anything too. I love the salty in the hair and it is just wild and lighter and awesome. Then when you shower, it is like silk. Love it. We ate shrimp, no crab this year though. I just love it there.
I went to the Air and Water show yesterday, and despite having a considerable base tan from South Carolina, I burned myself badley. And I couldn't even burn myself evenly either. The right side of my body is much more red than the left and I think it looks just a little bit ridiculous. And it hurts. But the air show was nice and it was a perfect day for it. Whenever I go to the lake (which isn't as frequent as it should be, but getting better) I realize how much of an asset it is. I'd like to get a pontoon boat and just float on the lake all day eating hot dogs and drinking beer.
I finished reading The Girls Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank and I have to recommend it to all of you. I put off reading this book for a long time because while I loved the cover, I hated the title. Finally I gave in and really enjoyed the entire book. It makes you realize everyone has their quirks and maybe I'm not so strange after all. Maybe. You can read it in a day and be the better for it.
Mostly now I am filling out secondary applications and waiting for school to start in a week. All the schools ask why you are applying to their school in particular, and it is hard to come up with clever and sincere sounding reasons. I feel they wouldn't look highly on me if I said, " You had the lowest averages for GPA and MCAT scores and I feel if you lower your standards just a little more, you might squeeze me in. " Somehow, I don't think that is the kind of candidate that they are looking for. But you never know.

Time to aloe my burn.

South Carolina

2006-08-19T23:42:00.000-05:00

It's too pretty for words.

Can you say clogged arteries

2006-08-17T16:30:00.000-05:00

This is all I can think about.

Just shoot me

2006-08-08T15:06:00.000-05:00

I'm going on vacation to our usual spot in South Carolina. It's been a good four years since I last bought a swimsuit and I was in a masochistic mood so I figured I should go look at some. I went to Target and since it is approaching the end of swimsuit season, everything was on sale. I was looking in the clearance aisle and I found a tankini suit that looked pretty cute. I went to try it on and it voila, it fit. The bottoms were perfect. The top was a little big. While it fit nicely in the bossom, the mid section was loose. I thought it was a little strange but also thought "how nice, this hides all the right places." As I was looking at myself in the mirror I thought, "Man, this suit would look awesome on a pregnant woman...oh fuck." Of course the only suit that I found and liked was a maternity suit. I hate how Target just lets you flow right into that section with no warning, at least not until you see the elastic waste jeans. I previously bought a maternity skirt masquerading as a regular skirt there. When I got home, took the tag off and realized it was a skirt for preggers my pride did not allow me to ever wear the skirt in public. Dancing around my room maybe, but not in public. I still seriously considered buying the swimsuit mostly because it fit and was on sale. But I realized I would never be able to live something like that down. But I do know this, when I get pregnant, especially in those early months before the belly bulges, I will look awesome in maternity wear. I also know the next time I go through the humiliation that is swimsuit shopping will be at least 5 years away.

Hexed

2006-08-01T20:37:00.001-05:00

How do you know if someone castes a spell on you? I think I was just cursed by a witch. I was driving home and the light turned red while I was waiting to turn left. Admittedly, I was in the cross walk, but I couldn't reverse because there was a car behind me. This woman with crazy hair begins to meander across the street. She was a little on the plump side and had gym shorts on with a cut off t shirt showing her belly. I was looking and began to give the, "Im sorry I'm in the cross walk" look when she starts talking to me and pointing at me in a very menacing way. It's about 100 degrees here, so thankfully I had my windows up and air on. She starts walking towards me pointing and twisting her fingers. She didn't even blink. She just starred at me, talking and pointing and walking. She got to the window of my car and poked it a couple of times. I think I may have been hypnotized because I could not look away from her. She had rotten teeth and old dirty fingernails. While I am not an expert at reading lips, I'm pretty sure the words coming out of her mouth were not english. She was saying them with the kind of hatred and disgust reserved only for cursing the guy that knowingly gave you syphilis. I really think she may have caste a spell on me. Luckily, my trance was broken when a bus was turning into the lane she was standing in. She walked on and I certainly didn't watch her. I'm afraid my hair will start falling out, or I'll get some skin condition that causes me to ooze stinky puss and bleed from my eyes. If I was hexed, how do I reverse it? Do I find the witch who cursed me, bring a burnt lamb offering and ask for the antidote? Truth be told, if this woman was a witch, and I was cursed, I think all I would need to bring her would be a crack pipe and a rock and she would wave her hand and my skin would heal and my hair would grow back. She just seemed like that kind of witch. Either way, I'm saving the fingerprints she left on my car, just in case.

Mon-ca

2006-07-28T09:56:00.000-05:00

My old friend Monica came into town Tuesday and I was able to spend a few meals with her. She is moving west to live with her lover and I think she is very excited. We had dinner at her favorite Mexican restaurant were she got me intoxicated. I know that I have a low tolerance for alcohol, and my eyes were crossing after half of the first margarita, but that didn't stop me from ordering a second one. It was delicious.
So as happens with old friends, we spent some time thinking back on the good old days. I just wanted to share some of my fond memories of Monica, some talked about, some not.
Her baboon imitation.
This is easily the funniest thing I have ever seen Monica do. I only saw it once, but it is still ingrained in my memory as an uncharacteristic, and therefore hilarious, explosion of silliness. We were in 8th grade on the class trip to Washington, DC. We were in a hotel room together. These were the days before illicit alcohol consumption was the point of every class trip and the giggles weren't followed by puking, hair holding and hangovers. The rest of the story speaks for itself. Monica jumped around the room making baboon noises and walking around on her knuckles turned inward. Each baboon call she made left the rest of us on the floor in hysterics. It was wonderful.
Her Answering Machine Messages.
Monica has this silly way of talking when she gets nervous. She stops enunciating and lets the last part of her words drop off. I don't want to offend her by saying it sounds Valley Girlish, though that is the closest description. She doesn't talk like this all the time. Usually she is very articulate. It is only when she is nervous. She would leave messages on my parent's answering machine that went something like this, "hi Jenny, this is Mon-ca, can you ...muttered jumble of words...bye." I would come home from softball practice and my father, in his Chilean accent would say, "Mon-ca called. Mon-ca. It's Mon-ca. ..I have no idea what she wanted." To this day when I tell my parents I am going to see Monica they say, " Ooooh Mon-ca!"
Videos
One of our favorite pastimes as middle schoolers was to go to someone's house (usually Lindsay's) and make videos of ourselves. We made little plays and dance videos. There were two in which Monica's performance really stands out. The first was one where she was imitating her brother. He was dating Lindsay's sister at the time, so with me filming, Lindsay and Monica imitated their relationship. We were in about 5th or 6th grade. There is one part where Monica (playing her brother) says something to the effect of, "I'm horny" and starts writhing around on the bed grabbing herself. I don't know exactly what she was doing, but it was funny. The second video was a dance video. I actually don't want to talk too much about it because my performance was even more ridiculous than Monica's. There was a part while we were dancing to the song "RESPECT" and I smacked my ass several times. Lindsay's older sister showed her friends, the 8th graders, the video at a party and at lunch the next day they all approached me saying, "Nice moves" and then started smacking their butts. It was awful and crushing to my 5th grade self. It did not, however, stifle my passion for dance.
Boobies
I actually have many more memories including making Monica seduce an Austrailan man and her helping me use the bathroom the first time I ever was intoxicated. But for the finale I would like to share my most recent fond memory of Monica. When Lindsay and I drove out east recently, we stopped at Monica's parent's house, where Monica was watching their dog. This story will sound more racey than it actually was. Most women grow up and become comfortable changing clothes in front of other women. Not in a sexy way, but in a, "we all have the same parts and it is just more practical to strip in the locker room than cling to a hand towel to cover ourselves" kind of way. I have my own fears of being nude in front of women. When I was thirteen and needed to convert to Judiasm for my Bat Mitzvah I seriously considered not doing it because it required me getting naked in front of someone. I know Monica and Lindsay feel the same way about this. I have known these women for 16 years yet have never seen even a glimpse of their normally covered body parts and that is just not normal. Basically, we all flashed our goodies to each other in the pool. I can report that these ladies have very nice assests. We are better friends because of the experience. Though if Monica does in fact read this blog, I think she may kill me for sharing this. Oh yeah, then we ran around in panties having a pillow fight. Just like all women do.

Thief

2006-07-27T12:38:00.000-05:00

There is a thief in my building. I first suspected this was the case several months ago when a package from amazon.com never arrived even though the tracking order said it was signed for. I assumed it was my landlady, but she isn't the type to steal. She said she never saw it and I believed her. It wasn't such a big deal because I spoke with the representatives at amazon and they quickly sent me a replacement order. I convinced myself the package just got lost and didn't think on it again. Then about a month ago a friend sent me a package. I was out of town when it arrived. When I got home from my trip, there was my package, sitting in the hallway ripped open. Thankfully all its contents were still there . The next day I received a message on my phone from Landlady which very nearly brought me to tears. The message said, " Jenny, this is Landlady. There is a package downstairs for you (not true because I had it in my possesion at the time of the message) and it has been sitting there for about 10 days (also not true as I was only out of town for 6 days and I know the package was sent only 4 days prior) . Well, it looks like someone got a little too goddamn nosey and opened it up. I don't know who it was who couldn't mind their own damn business, but you better come get it." Keep in mind, Landlady is about 70. She curses like a sailor and enjoys every minute of it. There was extreme emphasis on the "goddamn" of that message.
Back to the theft. Yesterday I walk into the elevator to find this note attached to the door. Apparently someone had stolen Landlady's package. There are several parts of this letter I would like to draw your attention to.
1. "...I hope you enjoy it knowing you are a cheap thief." Somehow I don't know that this letter is going to appeal to the thief's conscience, seeing as the thief steals 70 year old lady's medications.
2. " What you don't know is that someone was coming down the stairs. They can identify you." This is clearly not true. Once, in middle school, some friends and I got into a mud fight inside the school. Pretty much there was mud everywhere. We tried to clean it up but were unsuccessful. The next day the principal talked to all the students and said they know who it was and the punishment wouldn't be so harsh if we confessed. Of course we confessed and of course they really had no clue it had been us. If they'd known, they would have pulled us from class. This is the same tactic Landlady is using, though I doubt the thief is a 6th grader. And even still, there are no stairs by the location where the mail is left. Therefore, no one could have possibly seen who took the package while coming down the stairs. Plus, if Landlady knew, she certainly wouldn't be wasting her time writing a letter for the apartment building to read. It's just not her style.
3. "I will find out who you are and I will confront you." This sentence terrifies me. It almost makes me feel sorry for the thief. I love Landlady. We have come to a mutual understanding of one another and I've come to really enjoy her abrasiveness and forthright nature. However I wouldn't want to piss her off. I have seen her go off, and it ain't pretty. She is a tough old broad and while she looks frail, I am sure she would have no qualms about filling her purse with exploding rocks and then hit you with it, while with the other hand spray your face with flesh-eating bacteria laced mace. If she actually ever finds the thief, I fear for his life.
4. "Hopefully your luck with turn to crap." This is just funny.

So, hopefully the thief will return Landlady's package and the theft will stop. If not, I am certainly looking forward to more postings in the elevator.

**UPDATE**
I spoke with Landlady when I returned home today. The note was not in the elevator this morning, so I asked her if she got her package back. She said, "No, but it's proven now that the thief is in the building. They took the sign down." She has her suspicions as to who did it, but as I suggested, the part about someone witnessing this act was not true. I told her I hoped no more packages would be stolen and she said, "No. This was targeted at me. I have enemies in this building. I'll be honest with you, there are some people here that I treat like shit, but it's only because they treat me like shit first. " Oh, also, as I was leaving another tenant got in on the conversation. She asked what was in the package. Landlady got a sheepish grin on her face and said, "a cartoon of cigarettes from New York. They are way cheaper there than in Chicago." And here I thought she was really suffering without her medications.

In no particular order

2006-07-25T12:09:00.000-05:00

Songs that make me smile no matter what:
1. It must be love- Madness
2. Float on- Modest Mouse
3. These boots are made for walking-Nancy Sinatra
4. Cotton-Eyed Joe- Rednex
5. Try a little tenderness- Otis Redding
6. Gasonlina- Daddy Yankee
7. Ring of Fire- Johnny Cash
8. I like to Move it- Sacha Baron Cohen version from "Madagascar"
9. Get up off of that thing -James Brown
10. Move your feet- Junior Senior
11. Miss you- Rolling Stones
12. What's up-4 Non Blondes

Songs that make me well up no matter what:
1. Wild Horses- Rolling Stones
2. Golden Brown-The Stranglers
3. How to disappear completely-Radiohead
4. I don't blame you- Cat Power
5. Lovely Day -Bill Withers
6. Interpol-untitled
7. Paper Tiger-Spoon
8. Try a little tenderness- Otis Redding
9. I know- Fiona Apple
10. Lay Lady Lay- Bob Dylan
11. Thank You-Led Zeppelin

Who needs good reviews when you've got Kate Winslet

2006-07-07T21:34:00.000-05:00

I was reading the back cover of the movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and there were a few things that struck me as strange. First, I would like to say I thought this was a brilliant movie and if you haven't yet seen it, then get it on your Netflix queue immediately. So, usually they have quotes from different reviews saying how you MUST see this movie. Even movies like American Pie's Band Camp can pay someone enough money to say something nice about it. On the front of the jacket it says, "A Smart, Sexy, Seriously Funny Comedy!" In the synopsis is it says, "the best work Jim Carrey has ever done." Now these two quotes are pretty typical and expected. Then, in bold, there is this quote from Boston Herald. "Like footprints in the sand of a Montauk beach, no one leaves much of an impression." My first reaction is, 'Hmm, maybe this artist 'Montauk' makes beautiful paintings of footprints on beaches, and this is somehow like that in a good way.' Montauk is, however, a place with a beach and I imagine like all footprints at all beaches, they don't hang around long. So I read the BOLD FACE quote at the top from the New York Observer. "There is little charm in the coupling and almost no erotic intimacy, just a series of nerve-racking conversational collisions." Huh? Now, I'd like to say, I thought long and hard before commenting on this because my first assumption is, ' I'm the idiot, these both must be great reviews that are way over my head.' That might still be true. But after mulling it over a little bit, I really think these are bad reviews. Why would you put bad reviews on the back cover of your movie? I just don't understand, especially when it was actually a very good movie. Are they too good for good reviews? Are they trying to say, "We are SO good, we will sell this movie despite having bad reviews on the back." Then I thought, 'Maybe all movies do this. Maybe it is some sort of full disclosure thing so you know what you are getting.' But I checked the covers of Garden State, The Nightmare Before Christmas and Sleepless in Seattle and they all had only good reviews. I don't really get it, and if these are actually good reviews, I apologize for wasting your time. In fact, I might be so shamed if someone points out that these are good reviews that I might remove this post. But please, let me know what you think, and hopefully you will confirm my thoughts. Feel free to share your hypothesis on this strange marketing ploy.

Old Woman

2006-07-04T22:17:00.000-05:00

I had a moment the other day where I crossed into the world of really being an adult. I was getting ice cream with a friend and I had to run to the cash machine. It was dark out and close to the 4th of July, so of course there were fireworks galore. I really don't like the 4th of July for that very reason. I love professional fireworks shows but I despise amateur shows. I don't see the point. The fireworks are never cool to look at and usually, someone gets hurt. So I was running back across the street to get my ice cream when I see these kids throw something into the street. It looked like a cigarette butt, but then I noticed them notice me and start yelling," get out of the way, get out of the way!" Then, the firecracker that they had just thrown into the street started shooting off in my direction. I sprinted across the street a collected myself. At this moment I thought,' I could just not say anything and be all, oh it's cool, no big deal, and be cool. Or, I could be an old woman about the situation.' I chose the old woman approach. I looked at the kids and yelled, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHY WOULD YOU EVER THINK TO THROW A FIRECRACKER IN THE STREET? SOMEONE COULD HAVE REALLY BEEN HURT!" They all took a step back as I got closer to them. I continued, " You guys are crazy! Why would you even think of lighting fireworks right here." If I had a cane, I would have waved it at them. Actually, the above account is much more articulate than I was, but the sentiment is the same. The problem was, I was legitamately scared and at a loss for words which is sign number 2 that you are a crotchety old woman. I went into the ice cream shop where my friend looked at me in horror and said, " Please tell me that wasn't you outside yelling." I responded with, " Those crazy kids. I don't know what they were thinking!" She said, " You realize you are officially old now." I didn't realize this was true until one of the kids sheepishly came inside the ice cream store, held his head low and said, " Ma'am, I'm sorry, we didn't see you crossing the street. It was an accident." " It's alright guys, " I said, " just be more careful next time." And that is how my transistion to adulthood was marked.
And here is a picture of me yelling like an old woman in Lindsay's ear.

Stories from the Road

2006-06-30T14:52:00.000-05:00

Continuing my streak of awesome vacations, I just returned from a trip to the east coast with my dear friend Lindsay. The pretense of this trip was that Linds was going to the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) to take a couple summer classes. If you don't already know, she has an astounding amount of talent in the arts. She wanted her car there and asked if I would drive with her. Road Trip? Count me in. In a former life I think I was a trucker. Of the 17 hour trip I think I drove 13, and not because Lindsay was slackalacking. I can just sit and drive and drive and drive and never really tire of it (unless I am sleepy and in which case I pretty much fall asleep at the wheel). That and Lindsay's company made it completely awesome. The first leg was to Niagara Falls. While Lindsay wasn't jazzed about the extra hour out of our way at first, I strong-armed her into going saying everyone should go to Niagara Falls. Have you ever been to Niagara Falls? It is HILARIOUS! Ok, so the waterfall is just plain cool, but the town is like a mini and cheesier version of Vegas. There are flashing lights, ferris wheels, arcades and IMAX movies galore. Come to think of it, it is actually a cheesier version of Atlantic City. Who knew that was possible. The next day we headed to Connecticut to visit our old friend Monica. Monica's parents live there now and Monica was house sitting. We stayed there a day and then went to Providence to register Lindsay for school. Neither Lindsay nor I had smooth transitions into college, therefore the sight of teenagers and their parents registering for classes sent both of us into a horrendous flashback that only a trip to Target buying adult things like irons and cutlery could bring us out of. She checked in, got an awesome apartment and later that night we met with Monica for dinner. The following day David met us for lunch in Providence. Sometimes when I think of my brother, I wonder how we are siblings. In my head/memories, we share very few personality traits. However, everytime I see me brother I am reminded how much we are actually alike. Some similarities off the top of my head: we both like to krump, we both work with people very unlike the people we grew up around, we both find situations that are not funny at all utterly hilarious, we both get super defensive when critisized, we both get pinched nerves in our neck with disturbing regularity, and we both like to drive. These are just a few, and they may seem to be not as deep as to make me believe we are very similar people, but I think watching us interact gives one a better point of view. Our similarites are just much more subtle than our differences.
Anyway, that is about the point where any fun to be had on this trip stopped. I won't get into too many specifics, but I didn't arrive into Chicago until 30 hours after I was supposed to. Along this adventure I had the pleasure of being marked for extra security checks. The other individuals going through these checks were the 18 year old, 100 lbs young lady behind me and the 86 year old 100 lbs woman in a wheelchair in front of me. I guess I can get on board with the idea of screening a younger, more able-bodied person in a wheelchair (though able-bodied is relative since they are, in fact, in a wheel chair) but this woman couldn't have caused more damage then accidently running over your toe, then knitting you an ugly sweater as a token of apology. Anyway, they put me in this box where they blew air at me in loud, violent puffs. Other than blowing my shirt over my head, giving the TSA guy a free peep show and making me devolve into a fit of giggles, I don't understand the point. Another highlight came on the plane from Laguardia to Chicago. I had to sit next to a woman who was not just drunk, but pissed and drunk and wanting to tell me all about it. All the flights were delayed and while on a normal day, I might have had some sympathy for her 6 hours in the airport, however I already had 10 hours on her 6 so I was in no mood. Then as the plane taxis to the runway, the older gentleman in front of me goes and has a seizure. So I ring for the flight attendant and they make an announcement that it is not a good time to ring for them as the plane is about to take off. I telepathically communicate that it is also not a good time to have a seizure either, but that didn't stop seizure man from having one. During this time the wino next to me gets up and begins to take the man's pulse. Someone asked if she was a doctor or a nurse and she said, "No, but I have taken CPR." I'm not sure about this, but I think all I learned in my last CPR class was how to makeout with a dummy, so I don't know how she felt qualified to help. The flight attendant asked her several times to sit down but she wasn't in a listening mood thanks to her pre-flight cocktails. Finally the flight attendant ased her firmly to sit. At which point wino decided, 'hey, I haven't offended or upset enough people today, why don't I just keep talking.' She replies to the other flight attendant (not the one instructing her to sit), "will you just slap the little faggot!" Exsqueeze me? I am uncomfortable even typing that word. I turned to her with this look of horror on my face. Before this point I was politely trying to give her the hint that I was in no mood to talk to her alcohol breathe. At this point I correctly decided polite went out the emergency exit 5 minutes ago and I could safetly actively ignore her which I did for the rest of the flight. We took off, the seizure stopped, I got home at 1:30am. Needless to say I wrote United a very long letter requesting comp tickets on any airline other than them. I'm still waiting for their response.
It's good to be back, but not as good as my trip was. So now I pretty much just daydream of my next vacation.
On another note, I just finished A Million Little Pieces by James Frey. It was awesome. From what I know of people trying to control their addictions, this seems to me to be an honest, open and articulate account, even with his embelishments. Oprah is a Hack. Read this book!

Fun Galore

2006-06-15T14:03:00.001-05:00

It's only half way through the month of June and already I have a lot to report.
First, at the end of May my dear friend Tina came over for a little visit. It was so nice to have her all to myself and we kept ourselves busy with typical Tina/Jenny activities, namely eating, napping and watching tv. Actually, I was very impressed with the amount of actual activity we managed to squeeze in. We accomplished my first ever trip to the beach in Chicago, shopping at H&M and Anthropologie, the King Tut exhibit, Cherninns and a Cubs game. Much time was spent at delicious restaurants. David was in town and joined us for dinner with mom at Angelina's, and then brunch at Kitsch'n. We also ate at Earwax and Gejas. Let me just tell you, I was close to taking Tina to bed with me after our meal at Gejas, where she generously treated me to the best fondue in the world. While it is one of the most simultaneously romantic and gluttonous restaurants in Chicago, we were able to both keep our hands off each other and stand up at the end of the meal, though barely. It was one of those delicious meals where it physically hurts to continue to put more fondue chocolate covered strawberries in you mouth, but you just can't stop. There was only one position that was comfortable and that was horizontal with pants unbuttoned. 15 days later I am still digesting. Tina also brought a generous amount of seriously delicious Seattle Crabs. They were cooked to prefection. It was as if I was eating at a 5 star seaside cafe on the coast of the pacific northwest. I don't see Tina nearly enough so I really have to absorb her while I can. It was a wonderful visit but already I am ready for more.

Next it was off to Los Angeles to visit the handsome Jascha. It had been about 3 months since I had last seen him and three months is about 2 months 6 days too many. I was a little skeptical about los angeles but I have to say, I enjoyed it. I brought Radley along with me to be reunited with his alpha dog. While there were a few tears and near misses to nervous breakdownville, the dog survived the plane ride and was happy to be back with Jascha. We spent time in Venice, Santa Monica and Hollywood. Overall the trip was entirely too short. I don't know what I was thinking only going for three days. But it was better than nothing. Jascha had been bragging to me about the sushi quality there. I figured it would be better, but really, how much of a difference in taste does it make being right by the ocean. A BAZILLION PERCENT DIFFERENCE! I have tasted heaven and its name is California sushi. The fish just melted in my mouth and whatever is the best word to describe fresh, insert it here. I could have eaten only sushi the entire time I was there. But we did have several other wonderful meals, including a 2 am trip to Carl Jr. Thank God for 24hour food! The only thing I didn't get to do while I was there that I really wanted was to eat at In and Out. It was closed when we went by. Oh well, that will be one more reason to go back soon. That and challenging Jascha to a bowling match at the Big Lebowski Bowling Alley. I just love the beach and I think what I was most suprised by was how quaint some of the houses were. Of course on the beach they were enormous, but a few blocks off the beach were these colorful one story beach houses that were just beautiful and unpretentious. I guess that really suprised me. I was expecting mansions everywhere within walking distance of the beach. I'm not saying these places weren't expensive, but they were original and charming. It was such a nice weekend I didn't want it to end. Alas I had to return to Chicago. It was a tearful goodbye and now it's back to getting used to not seeing Jascha everyday. But I have to say I am proud of him. His work is awesome and he has a nice group of friends, so I feel at least he is well taken care of and happy. I miss Radley too. My apartment is lonely and my snuggling buddy is gone. Add him to the list of reasons to go back to LA soon.

What will I do with all the free time?

2006-05-24T10:02:00.001-05:00

There are so many blogs that I love that are written by men who more often than I care for, delve into an analysis of whatever sports game was just on. Fine, its their blog and they are entitled to do so. Just know I skip those parts, so if there are any real details about your life mixed in, I'll miss them. However, the rest of this blog entry will be on a subject that I'm sure many of said men will skip over as well. I guess we can' t all write something everyone likes to read all the time.

FINALLY I watched the season finale of America's Next Top Model. Because it was "spoiled" (not really cause I think if I didn't know who won ahead of time my head may have exploded) for me, I am adding a SPOILER ALERT!

Danielle won! I called it from the get go, but I am still so happy. She is completely adorable, not only to look at, but to listen to as well. She has a thick accent, yes, but she is hilarious and kind and I think those are the qualities america really wants in its top models. Her competitor was Joanie. Here is the problem. I loved Joanie too. She didn't necesarily have the same strength or conviction of self as Danielle had, but she was sweet and hardworking too. Plus she took awesome pictures. I hate it when I love both of the finalists. If I hated Joanie I would be able to celebrate Danielle's victory much more. But in the end, Danielle was better and I'm super happy she won. I'm also super happy that crazy Jade did not make the final two. That girl is N.U.T.S. So thank god for that, though if she was in the final two I would have been able to confidently root against her. Overall, this cycle has been one of the best. Last cycle stunk. I only kinda liked one of the last girls, and it wasn't the one who won. Most of those girls lacked personality and looks. But, I kinda always feel that way about all the girls except the last four. So in the end, we have another top model amoungst us and we are all the better for. I also think we will be seeing a lot of Joanie in the future.

This and That

2006-05-20T12:12:00.000-05:00

In the Bathroom at a bar in Chicago. Let's just say I can relate.

I'll just fill you in with the little tidbits that have been making up my life lately.
A week ago, Nemo and his lovely bride Carrie, Matt and his soon to be lovely bride Liz, and Caleb and his lovely bride Shannon, as well as other friends and relatives of the Nemos got together for a nice dinner, as well as some drinks. If you'll notice, of that particular group of Northwestern friends, I am the only one who is not a lovely bride. This may sound as though I am wistful to become a bride, but that really isn't the case. As more and more people begin to pair up permantently, it starts feeling more and more normal that my friends are getting married. I think that is the part I don't like. I don't like that it is normal for people my age to be married. I don't so much want to be married right now, as I want everyone to stay single right now. What happens when people start having babies?! I already have the normal amount of baby lust ("normal" meaning everytime I see one I just want to eat it or at least knaw on its cheek, but I don't really want my own just yet) but I can't imagine what will happen when people close to me start popping them out. I'm actually pretty excited for the occasional babysitting duty. Anyway, that was a tangent. The point is, I got together with some old friends and had a wonderful time as we always do. I arrived sweaty and had to keep my sweater on for the first several hours just to let the back sweat dry from my shirt, but that wasn't unusual or unexpected and it did not damper anyone's good time.
Sunday was Mother's Day. I returned home to spend some quality time Mom. My brother and I bought her an ice cream maker (don't ask me why, I was never even aware she liked ice cream until she asked for this gift). First we had brunch at the Country Club, very hoighty toighty. Not really. I actually feel uncomfortable telling people where we ate when they ask and we have eaten there. I think it conjures images of blazers and pearls. There were probably blazers and pearls, but its not as bad as you all think. I promise. After brunch we went home and tried to make ice cream. True to form we did not read the directions and we did not succeed in makeing ice cream. I only hope that future endeavors are more fruitful. It was a nice time mostly because I spent a lazy day with the best mom in the world.
During the week I celebrated the birthday of high school pal Qasim. Lindsay, Marianna and I took him and his lady out to celebrate. It is always fun to get together with old high school friends and reminisce about the stupid things we used to do and the people we did those things with. I keep getting flyers from my high school asking me to call and update my information with them for the alumni directory. I haven't called them back yet, but I might. I would feel a little dorky/egotistical calling them back and saying what I'm up to. Why egotistical you may ask. It's not that I have really accomplished anything that enviable in my life, though I hope to inspire envy from millions in the near future. The thing is that the entire point of these directories is to show off how well you are doing, how successful you are and all that junk. Or at least, many people take the opportunity in such directories to do just that. On the other hand, I REALLY want to know what everyone is up to and where their lives are headed, so maybe I should contribute too. I'll just have to downplay my nobel prize so people don't think I have too big a head.
I also got together with some old work friends of mine. Also a wonderful time. Some of us hadn't seen each other in awhile and it was good to catch up. I don't really have much more to say on that except it was fun.
The most notable influence on my week was the finale of America's Next Top Model. The influence was not that the winner blew my mind away and has changed the way I view modeling henceforth, but rather, I haven't been able to watch the show so I have been avoiding people who watch it so as not to spoil the result. That obviously didn't work. I went to read Chloe's blog and there is was, and then later Tina emailed me about how BLANK won. Now, I know who the winner is, but I feel like if I don't say it out loud, it won't be true and when I finally watch the show, it will still be a surprise. I went home to watch it last night. I sat in my recliner, opened a coke and some popcorn went to my tivo only to discover IT NEVER RECORDED!! WTF! I think I cried. That is one of the worst feelings when you are looking forward to watching a recorded program and it is nowhere to be found. How was Tivo able to record the entire season without issue yet when it really counts I am left to fend for myself? The are re-showing it this Tuesday, so you know where I will be. I'm not relying on Tivo this time.
And that was my week.

Torture

2006-05-08T08:58:00.000-05:00

Devil thy name is dental equipment.

I went to the dentist this weekend. I went for the first time in about 5 years 6 months ago, and at that time they asked me if I wanted to schedule an appointment for my 6 mo check up. I said, "sure". Why not be responsible about my dental care? Ill tell you why. Because going to the dentist is the most terrible thing one has to go through in life. First of all, I really think once every six months is excessive. Once a year I can see, but once every 6 months? I think that is a little anal. Secondly, the equipment they use could be displayed in the Medival Times hall of torture devices. They have this new thing (at least new since five years ago, it may be what shown in the picture, though my eyes were glued shut from pain while it was being used, so I really don't know) where they scrap and shoot water into your gums and between your teeth. I was literally covered in water when this was done. Thirdly, I don't understand why it is SO crazy that gums get inflammed and bloody when they are flossed. This is soft tissue we are talking about. If I put wire in between my toes I wouldn't be suprised if they started to bleed. I don't floss and so perhaps the bleeding and puffiness stops eventually. But I don't think that it is normal to make them that way in the first place. The dental assistant showed me how to gently massage my lower gums. This seems to be the problem area. I asked her why only my front gums got this way. She said it's probably from eating, the front teeth do a lot of the biting into hard food. Her technical definition was, "food gets in there and then your biology starts a reaction that makes it puffy. It's just your biology acting up." My biology? What does that mean? I mean, I think I know what it means, but did she? If she would have said "cells" or "immune system" I might have been convinced that she knew what she was talking about. Anyway, I have to go in a month for them to make sure my puffiness went down. Truth is, it is already down. The only reason it was puffy is because I flossed for the first time in 6 months the day before my appointment and my gums were revolting. However, I told them I floss twice a week and this is a normal occurence that usually goes away. I fear I might have to actually floss for a month to prove my gums can hack it. After the dental assistant was done cleaning, she said to me while peeling off her gloves covered in my gum blood, " Well, you have great salivary glands." Whats that supposed to mean? I am extra drooly? Not everyone's mouth responds to being held open for 30 minutes at a time by producing gallons of spit? Not everyone has to be wiped off with the bib when they spit into the suction cup? Well I'll be damned. I guess I'm just special. Needless to say, I did not make an appointment for six months from now because honestly, I don't think I'm going to go to the dentist anymore. Don't try and talk me out of it. The decision has been made.

Nonsense

2006-05-02T15:48:00.000-05:00

I've been putting off writing for awhile, but I feel like I just need to put something down even if it is boring and pointles. So here are a few things I have been up to.
I took the MCAT two weeks ago. My friend Anneeth, who also participated in the punishment of the MCAT, said that when you finish it is a feeling much akin to going to the bathroom (#1 of course) after you have been holding it for a really long time. In other words relief. I'd have to disagree. I still feel pretty anxious. The wait to get the scores back is excrutiating. If I knew that I would receive scores in a week or two, I feel like I could celebrate. However I'm in limbo. I don't want to relax too much because, god forbid, I have to take the test again. On the other hand, I just don't want to think about it. I don't feel good, but I'm glad it's over. For now anyway. I can't complain about too much as far as the test goes. It was exactly as I expected it to be. There was a strange girl biting her nails next to me, but other than that it was a pretty normal group of people taking the test. On my lunch break I sat by the lake and this crazy woman came and stood by me for about 10 minutes. She just stood there, directly in front of me, 3 feet away, looking off into the distance. I did what any normal person would do and acted as if I couldn't see her and that my view was still completely unobstructed. Eventually she moved and made someone else feel uncomfortable for 10 minutes. It was a nice diversion from thinking of all the mistakes on the test I made.
Other than that, I really haven't been up to much. Dinner here and there with friends, a cubs game or two, but thats about it. I am really looking forward to summer. That's rare for me, but I just have this feeling like it will be a really good one. Call me crazy.
I promise I will have better things to discuss soon.

What does this mean?

2006-04-13T22:45:00.000-05:00

Imagine this with a gas mask in your dream!

My brother, David, will kill me for posting this. According to him I am notorious for telling people my dreams. And according to him, most people don't care what my dreams are. More astonishingly, my dreams aren't that interesting to hear about. Obviously I beg to differ because I continue to recount my dreams to anyone who will listen. In any readers I may have I find a captive audience. However this dream really was particularly interesting.

I was in New York City to take my MCAT. Not only was I in New York, but I was at the beach. I was with a Princeton Review group and we were all taking the MCAT together. Well, to take the MCAT, we had to swim in the ocean. While we were swimming in the ocean, the questions were telepathically beamed into our brains and then we telepathically beamed back the answer. So we are splashing around, answering questions in our head and all of a sudden, the sky gets really dark. A funnel cloud was spotted on the horizon. They told everyone to get out of the water because a tornado was coming (that's right, a tornado, not a hurricane). So we all get out of the water and run to the beach. The water starts to recede and the fire trucks pull onto the beach. Everything gets real black, then real calm, though it was very sandstormy. The fire engines turn into elephanty things with gas masks on (very star wars) and we realize we are in the eye of the storm. Suddenly the tornado passes over with a big whooosh and we are out of it. I turn to my princeton review teacher and ask if we are going to continue to take the MCAT. She says no, it will be rescheduled back in Illinois. I asked if it would be in a classroom this time. She said probably, but they prefer to do it in the ocean because it relaxes people. We all hopped on a plane and headed back for Chicago.

Maybe that wasn't that interesting to read. However, it was a crazy dream and I'm not really sure what my subconscious was trying to tell me. Any thoughts?

Light it up

2006-03-22T16:29:00.000-06:00

Lindsay says, "Jenny Stinks."

Yesterday was Lindsay's birthday, and in accordance with American customs, we celebrated. The evening began at Coast, a fantastic sushi restaurant. Lindsay invited 6 others to join in the revelry. We ate, we drank (BYOB), we bet on a the likelihood that a couple on their first date was familiar with the existence of Friendster (I bet both knew, one didn't). Everything was going along swimmingly until it came time to pay the bill. Everyone was looking to see how much they owed. I leaned over the table to grab the check. As I'm doing this, I catch a whiff of something funky and think to myself, "it smells like something's burning." I sit back and look at Lindsay who is giving me a perplexed look. At this very moment I simultaneously notice smoke coming from my left and hear someone say, "Jenny, your hair is on fire." That's right. I ignited my hair in an upscale restaurant. I proceed to bat my hair to stop it from smoldering. Lindsay continued to stare at me in disbelief. Meanwhile, smoke is billowing up to the ceiling, pretty much engulfing the entire room. Of course everyone at our table is howling with laughter and everyone in the restaurant is looking at my flaming head. The stench is unbelievable. We all know what a little bit of singed hair smells like. Well, imagine that times 31, and that was how the restaurant now smelled. The aforementioned couple on their first date whispered to each other, "Uh, I hate the smell of burning hair." Really? Cause I always though it had a refreshing aroma! Barf. I regained some composure and looked down in my lap to notice bits of black hair ash on my lap. I start running my fingers through my locks, removing clumps at a time of destroyed hair. In the end, it wasn't noticeable (except for the smell that still remains). Only my ego was damaged and to be honest, there wasn't that much left to begin with. Keep in mind, there were several candles on the table, and several women with long hair. Yet I am the only one with the talent required to light my hair on fire. Needless to say, I had to have a few more drinks before I called it a night. In the future, I predict I will be sporting a ponytail to most dinner engagements involving fire.

Like, I Love Cell Phones!

2006-03-17T10:43:00.000-06:00

I still have to post on New York, but first a pet peeve. I am sitting in a computer lab right now. It is silent...except for this one young lady talking loudly on her cell phone. To quote Michelle Tanner, "How Rude." Seriously. What makes this young woman think I want to hear all about her St. Patrick's day plans while I am trying to do work? Now not only do I know she has got some seriously awesome plans, but I also know her name is Patty O'Conner and I have no problem telling all of you her name because the entire computer lab already knows. I mean, she just HAS to celebrate because she is SO Irish. I'm sorry, but in addition to hating loud cell phone talkers, I also hate St. Patrick's Day. I don't really get it. I think if it were more about being Irish I might respect it more, but really it just seems like public drunkfest. If that's what you are into, I guess good for you, expect that on St. Patrick's Day, everyone else has to tolerate watching drunk idiots roam the streets, harassing passers by. If I see one more Greek/Italian/Polish/Jewish boy yell "WOoooo I love being Irish!" I might die. It's a lot less private than getting smashed at a bar where I don't have to see you.
So back to hating loud cell phone talkers. On the plane home from New York we were, of course, delayed on the runaway once we arrived at O'hare. No big surprised. Everyone rushes to turn on their cell phone (including myself). Fine. I have no problem with people calling the folks who will pick them up telling them we are sitting in the plane waiting. What I DO have a problem with is the young lady sitting across from screaming valley girl style into her phone. She wasn't even on an aisle or a window seat where she could lean away from those sitting next to her. She was in the middle. The people sitting next to her had nowhere to go!
Girl: Oh My God, I am totally sitting on the runway. I, like, think we might be here for, like, awhile. So are we going out?
Pause.
Girl: Oh my god you are seeing HER? pause. Totally I really want to meet her, maybe I can scare her off if she is bitchy. Ill like, totally tag along and if its like, not going well, then I can start flirting with you and maybe she'll go away. OH my god, I can't believe you are dating her. Chicago is, like, going to be fucking awesome. We will, like, have, like, the best time EVER! Let's get, like, totally wasted! I'm serious. It's gonna be awesome. WHOOOOOOO I love being IRISH!

Idiot. I do have to give her credit though. Not a self-conscious bone in her body. Most people would be uncomfortable with an entire plane starring at them. Not her. No, in fact, I think it gave her more gusto. I hate to be like a mom about this, but people should have to pass a test before they get a cell phone. If whispering and tact aren't in your repertoire, sorry, it's pay phones for you.

thoughts on college

2006-03-13T14:11:00.000-06:00

I just got back from New York and will have something to say on the subject, including pictures. Until then, some thoughts. In my struggle to get into medical school, I wonder whether or not it will be like college. I don't mean whether or not the work will be the same. I imagine, and hope, that it will be much more intense and challenging. I wonder what the atmosphere will be like, what the people will be like. I worry because the people will be the same premed kids I have taken classes with, and frankly a good number of them frighten me. I just hope something is different. So many people say how they want to go back to school, how they hate working and college was so much better. I guess I am in the minority when I saw I hate that I have gone back to college. College and I don't fit. I can't say it's because I'm older with more experiences and I don't have as much in common with the students...I didn't fit when I was in college the first time. Except for my roommates and a few other folks, I didn't have many people I could relate with. And I fashion myself a socialable gal. In the work world, I think I have an overabundance of friends. I guess it is a good thing that the work world suits me better, as that is the world most of us have to live our lives in. But I'm hoping medical school will be different. Anyway, as I sit in the computer lab at school... its just what Im thinking.

Overstock.com is a weiner

2006-03-08T16:26:00.000-06:00

So with Jascha out in California and Radley with the dog sitter, I have taken to passing time by yelling at overstock.com representatives. There is nothing more infuriating than having to deal with "customer service" people, especially over stupid problems. Awhile back in early January I woke up each morning with serious neck cramps. After trying heat packs and massage, I decided it was time for a new pillow. I was always curious about those contour memory foam pillows. It just so happened that one of my favorite websites at the time, overstock.com was having a sale on a set of memory foam pillows. I purchased these pillows and awaited their arrival. About a week later I received a package, and while small, I thought, "those are my pillows." I was half right. It was my pillow. I was sure they came in a set, but I have been wrong before, so I looked up my order to make sure. As I suspected, I had been jipped one pillow. So I called. The guy on the phone was overly apologetic, but at least he said he fixed the problem. Fine, no big deal, mistakes happen. So I wait 7-10 business days, look online and notice nothing has changed on my account. I call back and this time I have the pleasure of talking with Kyle. Wonderful frat boy Kyle. Kyle said that the guy who helped me before didn't know what he was doing and Kyle would fix my problem. He assured me my pillow would be with me in 7-10 business days. I let around 3 weeks pass. Still no pillow. What is more disconcerting is my online account says, "return has been initiated." What? What return? The return of the pillow I rightfully deserve to my doorstep? Probably not. So, I call again. This time they put me on hold for 30 minutes. Fine, at least this time something might get done. Or so the gentleman on the phone said. A note to my readers. This is really the first point that I begin to get pissed. Before, just simple mistakes by new employees. Now, however, I fully expected to receive my pillow in 7-10 business days. If not there was going to be hell to raise! As you might have guessed, I didn't receive my pillow in 7-10 business days and had to call again. I was fuming. I call. The woman on the other end says her name is Trudy (seriously, Trudy) and as I am about to really give it to her, I realize she sounds like my aunt and I cannot yell. I inform Trudy of my situation, she overapologizes and says it will be taken care of. Thanks Trudy. The next day I receive an email from overstock.com. In this email, they inform me that I have to return MY pillow to them, before they send me my two pillows!!?!? Is this how you "take care" of things, Trudy? There is a link to online chat with someone, I click it and get to chat with Ariel. Ariel says she's sorry, but if I'd kindly return my pillow, they'd send me my set of pillows.
Me: Ariel, why can't you just send me the pillow I was supposed to get in the first place.
Ariel: We do not make individually packaged pillows, they only come in sets, so kindly send your pillow back and we will be happy to send you a set of pillows.
Me: . . .
Me: If you only have prepackaged sets of pillows, how did I get an indivual one?
Ariel: Ma'am, if you'd kindly return your pillow, we will send you a set.
Me: You are the ones who screwed up. Why do I have to go to all the trouble of sending something I ordered back?
Ariel: Kindly send back your pillow and we will complete your order.
Me: I threw away the box. So now you are telling me I have to buy a NEW box to send MY pillow to you? Do you really want the pillow I have been drooling on for the past two months? Why not just send me two pillows, seeing as you made a mistake in the first place? Isn't that what customer service does?
Ariel: Jenny, I understand you are frustrated and I would be too if I were you. But all we can do is have you return your pillow and we will send a new one.
Me: How do I know you will even send the pillows after I return my one pillow? You haven't been able to get me a pillow yet. If I send back my pillow, I will be left pillowless.
Ariel: I assure you, we will send you your pillow set.
Me: Don't be offended, Ariel, if your assurances mean nothing to me.

I also wrote a letter to the company. Am I crazy or does this policy make no sense? What I am most upset about is that they have angered me, causing me to write my first letter of complaint over a pillow! I feel if a big company makes a mistake, I better be getting something free out of it. Now, I will have to never shop at overstock.com again. My hands are tied. I have been forced to add another company to my boycott list. Overstock.com is dead to me. DEAD.

Two completely unrelated subjects

2006-02-20T12:54:00.000-06:00

So it took me awhile to decide which I wanted to tell you first in this post. Funny anecdote or romantic valentine's day. The anecdote is a little gross, so I have decided we will end with it as to not leave a bad taste entering romance.
So Valentine's Day. I know a lot of people hate this day. That is fine. I understand that. But at the very least, it gives us one more occasion to tell the people we love we love them (not just lovers...friends, parents, siblings, etc...). Hopefully we tell them everyday, and if that's the case, treat it like any other day (with love injected).
My Valentine's Day happened to be fantastic. Jascha told me he was cooking dinner, so I was already salavating around noon. As I walked up to my apartment, I could already smell the garlicly/oniony goodness. Now, some might say, why the hell would someone cook you a meal that is gonna make your breath funky on a romantic evening? To that I answer, because he knows me so well and is willing to put up with a little breath funk for the sake of me LOVING my meal. The meal consisted of fresh green beans sauteed in garlic and butter, penne pasta with a goat cheese reduction, and the a steak, marinated in teriaki goodness with goat cheese and sauteed onions. I am seriously drooling as I write this. Everything was cooked to perfection. As if that wasn't enough, dessert was hand dipped (by jascha himself) chocolate covered strawberries. Oh my god. Words cannot begin to describe...but pictures can...I will have those shortly. All in all it was an incredible Valentine's Day...the man is good.

So for my anecdote.
I was sitting in a bathroom stall at school after my morning Physics class. So far so good. There were some girls chatting with each other in other stalls. While strange, this is not uncommon. The one sitting next to me says, " I cannot have a good day without a good defecation." What? It is not her theory I disagree with so much as it is her choice of timing in declaring it. The bathroom was full of people. FULL OF STRANGERS! We all now know how much she needs to poop in the morning. She said this about twelve times. She said, "There are three things I need in a day. Coffee, social stimulation, and a good defecation." Now at this point, people who know me might be saying, "but jenny, you LOVE to talk about pooping." True. I do. But not with complete strangers. I have to at least be introduced to someone before I expound on the virtues of a good BM. This mystery woman then dropped her notebook on the floor and exclaimed, " Eww, gross, I dropped my notebook on the floor." This wouldn't be so crazy if it weren't for the fact that her sweater had been lying on the floor of the stall during her entire time there. I hurried up and left the stall so I could get a glimpse of what kind of person this could be. As I suspected...she looked crazy.

Holiday Cheer

2006-01-12T17:55:00.000-06:00

This might be a little overdue, but I'd like to share my holiday fun with you. I am at a loss for words these days so I will sum up the holidays with slideshow of holiday highlights....enjoy.

Hope you all had as much fun as I did.

Extraordinary Machine? Indeed

2005-12-09T15:06:00.000-06:00

This past Sunday, Dec. 4th, I was fortunate enough to attend the Fiona Apple concert. The entire journey started when I realized her show was sold out. I agonized over bidding online for a ticket, but eventually decided it was worth the risk. The tickets certainly weren't cheap, but I figured it was worth it. So I received my ticket via certified mail (my first certified letter ever) and it looked authentic. So fast forward to the 4th. I wait in line in the freezing cold for 30 min. That certainly wasn't fun. I decided to go to the show by myself because 1.) No one wanted to pay that much to see her that I knew, 2.) I enjoy fiona more alone. Yes, most of her songs are angry. But that is what I enjoy about them. They are all very emotional and if you have someone jabbering in your ear the entire time, it ruins the experience. So I finally got into the building, paid too much for beer I didn't even want (I think that goes back to the days when I was too young to get a beer but always wanted one. Now, I don't want a Miller Lite ever, and especially not for $5, however I feel obligated to make it up to my under 21-year-old self to get it.) and then went up to the balcony to look for a seat. It was pretty packed when I got there, however me, needing a single, found a single seat in the front row of the balcony! It was perfect. The opening act was David(pronounced with a Spanish accent) Garza. Frankly, he stunk. His music wasn't too bad. He had that spanish/frenchish instrumentation with the bass and the cello and some flutey looking thing. His lyrics, however, were a disaster. Whenever someone, especially a non-black someone, says "honeys" in a song, they lose all credibility with me. Also, he was going for that hipster 'I haven't washed my hair in three weeks, nor have I brushed it, aren't I hot?' look. I hate that look. For god's sake, brush your damn hair. The unkempt part isn't as much a problem for me as is the greasiness. That is just gross. He finally left the stage and it was time for some fiona. She came out to a hearty round of applause. She played(and I mean played because she plays the piano for over half the songs she performs, and for all the songs on her album) for about an hour and a half. I was impressed. And she was happy, even if in a manic sort of way. She was giddy. Giggling and joking around. It was great. She dances a little like Eileen from seinfeld, but that really only made her more endearing. Her little jerks and twists and spasms are totally charming. Actually, I couldn't take my eyes off her. There is something enigmatic about the way she sings that made it impossible not to watch her. There is quite a bit of passion behind each performance of each song and it usually gave me the goose bumps. I have a serious non-sexual crush on this woman and it is depressing to know that I won't have the opportunity to see her for god knows how long. My money couldn't have been spent any better. This was probably the most fulfilling concert I have ever seen.

Ohiowa: Man's Country

2005-11-21T16:32:00.000-06:00

This Sunday my dear friend Michelle took me to my first Bears game. Some of you might be a wee bit surprised that I even had any interest in seeing the game. Well, I did. Football, like all sports, is wonderful to enjoy in small doses. When it overwhelms a life I start to take issue with it. I have been to college football games, as well as professional baseball and basketball games. There was something distinctly absent from this professional football game, however. Women. The ratio of men to women was about 75:1. The women I did happen to see were a little too dolled up to attend an event where the likelihood of having beer and/or nacho cheese spilled on you is pretty high. I think it is safe to assume that any guy there with a woman was forced into the situation. Be it his girlfriend, wife, daughter or sex slave, she really wasn't the first choice on his list of people he wanted to watch the game with. While the absence of women was a gift from god when it came to the lines for the bathroom, I think it also highlights a theory I am developing. Straight men love football because it provides them an opportunity to vent off any homosexual tendencies they may have. Let's face it. Straight women can give their female friends a massage without being looked at. Gay men can comment on how hot a woman is without anyone batting an eye. Hell, a lesbian can appreciate a tight male behind with no problem. Straight men, however, can't even look at one another without an onslaught of gay jokes. Unless, that is, they are at a football game. I have never in my life seen so much male on straight male action. There was hugging, kissing, dancing, butt slapping, shoulder grabbing, and even simulated oral sex. Half of this was going on between strangers! The stands were full of 200+ pound white bread (with a little rye) men loving each other and their manliness. Actually, it was kind of beautiful. I'm not implying for one minute that I think most of these men are actually gay and just don't cop to it. I'm pretty sure most of them are straight (though I'm sure there are a few fellows who love fellows who caught on to this male lovefest and hoped on for the ride). I think that football, with so many manly men rolling on the ground with each other, is a perfect venue for men to actually act like themselves; drunk morons who love to touch one another. If someone would have told me this a long time ago, I would have been much more tolerant of men watching football. Football as weekly entertainment: highly improbable and mind boggling. Football as a venue for man love: totally understandable. Furthermore, I can understand why they wouldn't want women there. We ruin it. We make them self-conscious. They feel like they have to direct their enthusiasm towards us as we are women and they are heterosexual, when all they really want to be doing is celebrating a hairy-chested, muscle-bound, testosterone filled touch down with someone else who can appreciate the manliness of the moment. I feel like so many questions that plagued me about sports have been answered. What I really wish is that I had a video camera because, frankly, all that man on man action I witnessed would have made a great opening scene for a gay porno.

Vu Runs Chicago

2005-10-10T12:35:00.000-05:00

Oh what a tease. My dear friend Tina came into town this weekend, yet only for two nights. Entirely too short if you ask me. She ran in the Chicago Marathon this Sunday with much success. I am not a runner and in general, I don't advocate it. However, in watching the marathon, I can see how one could be tempted to give it a go. The adrenaline, the cheering, the enthusiasm. I must take my hat off to Tina. She has always been an ambitious exerciser. When I say this, I don't mean she exercises her ass off, but she always has the intention and interest to be exercising. Whether that always happens is a different story (I know when she was in Evanston, my invitations to eat a burrito and sit on the couch sometimes won out). So I know she put a lot of work into preparing for this race. Obviously, 26.2 miles is not something anyone can do, and especially without training. At each mile I saw her (miles 2, 8, 18, and 23) she looked phenomenal. She was never walking, always smiling, and always under the 5 hour pace. Her boyfriend, Matt, who also came to support her commented on how she wasn't even out of breathe when she finished. Just thinking of doing anything that requires physical exertion for five hours is a real turn off for me. Not only would it be painful, I think that I would be bored. Especially running. I succeeded in not taking one picture of her while she was actually running, but I got some sweaty after shots to prove she actually participated and I was actually there. The other runners were pretty fun to watch too. Skinny, fat, old, young, big breasted and not were all out there moving it. It really takes all kinds. At mile 18 Matt left me to run with Tina until the end of the race (really, what is 8 miles to someone who regularly runs for 24 hours up hill). I was walking briskly to the car so I could get to the next mile marker when a blind man starts asking me something. I draw up closer to him and he says, " I need to get to Roosevelt and Ashland and I'm not sure where I am." I say, " Well, you're already on Ashland and Roosevelt is one street north, ok?" I turn to walk away. I have seen the blind people around this area (the medical district) and they are more self sufficient that I am. I was sure he could get there and know when he was there. Yet, he started talking again and it was clear he was turned around. The cab had dropped him off at the wrong corner because of the marathon. I asked him where he needed to be. He said, "The north east corner of Ashland and Roosevelt." Well shit. That just so happened to be directly on the other side of where the runners were. I tried to explain this to him, and that he might have to wait until they passed to get to him apartment. However, he was about 100 and waiting wasn't really an option. I saw a police car and decided they needed to help in this. Silly Jenny. Police officers don't actually help. They said, "Well, looks like you'll have to take him through. I'm not sure if they just didn't see the 3 step per minute pace this man was walking at, or they thought this would be enjoyable to watch, but I think it was probably the worst suggestion ever. So I let this gentleman know of the plan, tell him to pick up his feeler stick so as to not trip anyone more than I thought we were sure to do already, and geared up to go. I grabbed his arm tight, told him we would have to walk fast. Have you ever played frogger? Just imagine that, but instead of a frogger imagine me and a 100 year old blind man and instead of cars, imagine runners who are angry because they are tired, not prepared (this was the last group of the race), in pain and being cut off by a blind man and his seeing eye woman. Thankfully, I had a Moses parting the red sea effect on the crowd and we made it through without too many dirty looks. I escorted my friend to his apartment building and I was on my way. I wonder if he had any idea of what he just walked through. The police officers gave he a little chuckle and a wave and I made it to mile 23 in time to see Tina. I did my good deed made even better becauseYom Kippur is coming up and brownie points never hurt in a time of atoning.
So Tina is gone until God knows when. It was a great weekend to say the least, but next weekend I will be looking forward to a tearful reunion with my couch and Tivo.

Frutas Enchiladas

2005-09-13T11:15:00.000-05:00

I am in love with a lolly pop. In the tradition of Mexican foods being heavy on chile, Thalia (the acclaimed muscian) has joined with Jolly Rancher to create a culturally sensitive lolly. Why assume that EVERY culture would like Watermelon jolly ranchers? Well no more do our taste buds have to suffer the monotony of "normal" flavors. We now have Limon, Mango and Tamarindo to choose from. I'm addicted. The only thing that acutally keeps me from finishing an entire bag of these is that they are spicey and the chile eventually swells my taste buds. For those of you who love the corn man as much as I (and those of you not aware who the corn man is, he (sometimes she) is the person who sells elotes(corn with cheese, mayo, butter and chile), mango with chile, watermelon with salt, and cucumbers with chile on the street, usually not in ritzy areas. Always in Mexican neighborhoods) will fall in love with these candies. They only sell them at Kmart and the occasional mexican tienda. Get them while they're hot. I bought 6 bags because I was afraid they would discontinue the line. Gringos just don't always appreciate the finer tastes of the world.
Thalia's Candy Selection

365 days

2005-09-06T17:39:00.000-05:00

Believe it or not, I made it to an anniversary. That's right, Jascha and I have now been dating for one year. Let me give you a recap of the going's on. On the Thurs. before the day, Jascha took me to all you can eat sushi. Needless to say I stuffed myself and then wanted to vomit the rest of the evening. Very romantic. The following day I was treated to a pretty spectacular sight. A bowl full of marinating meat. Awhile back I mentioned to jascha that I enjoyed, rather, obsessed about beef jerky. The price was so disappointing because the jerky always left me wanting more, but the price kept telling me, "No, beef jerky is only for high class citizens who make loads of money and only dine on the finest of meats. " Well, I think I can safely say I will never have a craving for beef jerky again. Jascha made me more than I could eat in a lifetime, though I will die trying. We also went out for ethiopian food. It was like deja vu, I stuffed myself, then wanted to puke. All the same it was a wonderful day, made more wonderful by the fact that Jascha remembered. It's hard to believe I've had a year long relationship, but honestly, it feels like we have been together longer. So this is just a public thank you to Jascha for making me happy for an entire year. That is no small feat and I am very lucky to have him and Radley (his dog) in my life. So, thanks a million, jascha! You're the best!

The Cheat

2005-09-06T17:37:00.000-05:00

The Cheat.

This was last halloween's pumpkin, I'm sure this year's will be even more incredible.

Wedded Bliss

2005-08-29T15:50:00.000-05:00

First, I want to start this post by saying someone did a yahoo search for "women pooping." My site was the 13th result. I don't know if I should be embarrassed about this or ecstatic.

First on the need to report list, Nemo got hitched. Big surprise there for all of you who knew him. I was a bridesmaid and couldn't have been happier. I didn't catch the bouquet, even better. I have no complaints. It was one of the best weddings I have been to. The only suggestion I could give for when they renew their vows in 50 years, play more crunk. If I can't dance to Lil' John and Ludacris, I can't shine. But other than that it was a perfect evening. I even got to relive the good ole days by holding a certain someone's hair out of their face a cleaning their vomit out of a lunchroom dish bin.

Second on the report list, Sean and Julie got married. Another whopper on the surprise department. Another beautiful ceremony. They choose the scenic retreat of Lake Geneva for their nuptials. It is terribly strange to see friends that you grew up playing dress up with get married. But it is nice when people you actually like end up together so you know that at least holidays will still be fun.

So I'm a little wedding'd out. Thankfully the wedding season is over and I came out all the better for it. I am becoming a pro, though my photography leaves much to be desired.
Lastly, I received several calls/emails of congratulations last week. Apparently people were under the assumption that just because I took an MCAT class, it meant I was taking the MCAT. I was actually quite surprised that people outside the world of MCAT (albeit not that outside, they had all taken it once) knew when the actual MCAT was. So here is a big THANK YOU to everyone who had confidence, however misplaced, in my MCAT success. You can either send it again come April, I can carry over credit of your congrats call till then, or I can change the nature of the congratulations to "good luck" and I will use it for Organic chemistry which I start today.

Till soon...

Michelle

2005-07-26T15:50:00.000-05:00

Ode to Michelle:

Ohhhh Michelle, how you make me chuckle,
Thank you for the belt with the big fat buckle.
You're an Icelandic beauty, so very hot,
When the fellas look at you it's as if they were shot.
I've see you shake it, I've seen you move,
When Chingy comes on you sure do groove.
Your little daughter is a mini you,
She even talks to me while she poos.
You crack me up with your cross eyed glare,
Sometimes you treat me a little unfair.
Like when you read the blog I am dedicating to you,
Even when I tell you, "It's just not through!"
You make me yell in my exocist voice,
Now I'll be horse, and I have no choice.
But bottom line, your cooking is supurb,
My appetite is one thing you sure don't curb.
You're attitude keeps people in line,
While they're really just thinking, "Girl, you so fine!"
To work with you is to laugh all day,
I hope that this beautiful friendship never slips away.

And all this time Michelle thought I was writing crap about her. Just goes to show you.
What, I'm not really sure...but I know it shows you something.

Superstream does the MCAT

2005-07-21T12:45:00.000-05:00

I am currently taking an MCAT class because my life was too depressing before and I really needed something fun for my summer. Basically I have come to the realization that 1.) the people who write the MCAT are sick mother fuckers who like to torture overachieving premeds. If I didn't have to take the test, I would probably buy them all a round of beers for being so clever and sadistic. For now, however, I hate them. 2.) I am fearful for the future of medicine. My classmates are an interesting bunch. First, we have Frank.* I'm not convinced that Frank is all that smart of a guy. He comments on everything without the slightest care of whether or not it is relevant to the conversation. He chews his gum loudly and is always 100% confident he got the right answer (I know because he tells us) until his answer is wrong, which it usually is. Not saying that my answers are usually right, but I don't exclaim my superior test taking skills to the class and then fight for 20 minutes about how my wrong answer is actually correct. Then there is Joey.* Joey appears to be about 13, yet he is in his junior year of whatever university. He rarely talks but when he does, his thick Indian accent masks whatever he is saying. He is actually a very nice, smart person, just young and incomprehensible. The last noteworthy person is Juliet,* AKA superstream. When the teacher messes up and apologizes, she proclaims, "It's ok, really, don't worry, ooohhh, no, it's ok." It's not like the guy pooped in his pants and is mortified, he just forgot a decimal place. She picks stupid examples for our essay writing and giggles all the time for no reason. Her most annoying characteristic is, by far, her break time behavior. I usually have to use the bathroom at break, as does she. She always dashes for bathroom the minute break is called. I have severe stage fright and if my bladder is given any reason not to empty itself, it won't. I call her superstream because I have never in my life heard someone pee as loudly as she consistantly does. I don't know if the loudness is because she is tall and squats over the pot and there is just more velocity by the time the pee hits the water, or if she always has the fullest bladder ever. Whatever it is, it distracts me and my bladder from doing what we need to do. I have to wait until she leaves to be able to go. I hate her. The rest of the class is peppered with socially awkward individuals, save one or two people. What frightens me the most is that I might fit into the class a little too well.
3.) Ex Physics professors from South Carolina who come to teach Princeton Review are annoying. My physics instructor is the most egotisical and pompous man I have ever met. Perhaps what rubbed me the wrong way was how he gloated that he could have had a 4.0 gpa at Northwestern had he taken Sociology instead of Engineering because the sociology classes were a joke. Anthropology is not all that far from Sociology, so I was offended because I definitely didn't get a 4.0. I wanted to punch that smug little freak right in his pregnant looking stomach. The rest of the instructors are suprisingly delightful. They have personality, lives, and are quite smart. Color me astonished.
So that is what I have learned from my MCAT class, aside from the krebs cycle, glycolysis, thermodynamics and SN1 reactions. Actually I'm lying, I still understand very few of those concepts, but I'm trying...honest.

* Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

For the love of animals

2005-07-08T16:59:00.000-05:00

Just a warning, when you search "Alljenny" on google, more than one "animal lover" site comes up as an answer to your query. While I'm an animal lover, I'm not an animal LOVER, just so you aren't confused. I can't no be held responsible for what you will see if you "accidently" click the wrong link.

Festivale de Jenny

2005-07-08T15:56:00.000-05:00

I am of the opinion that fireworks shows should be choreographed to music. I used to be a purist and think the fireworks themselves were enough, but after seeing a few shows put to music, I think this is the only way to go.
My show would be in Chicago, maybe on the 4th, maybe on some other special day. Here is my set list.

1. Reel 2 Real- I like to move it.
2. Willie Nelson- On the Road again
3. Tina Turner-Rolling on the River
4. Rolling Stones- Shattered
5. Rage Against the Machine- Testify
6. Muddy Waters- Mannish Boy
7. Salt N' Pepa- Schoop
8. Darkness- I believe in a thing called love
9. Wreckx N' Effect- Rump Shaker
10. Johnny Cash- I've been everywhere
11. 1812 Overature

There would be lots of champagne fireworks and no fireworks of smiley faces. There would also be plenty of little maggot fireworks that look like they are going one way then psych you out. They would drop gumdrops and cookie dough upon the enlivened audience, like mana raining down from the heavens. Grown men would weep. The legend of the show would live on through generations and make it into tall tales that no one could ever believe to be true. But those there to witness the spectacle would know that not only was it true, it was the single most important moment of their lives.

Ice Cream

2005-06-29T12:14:00.000-05:00

I had two hours to kill yesterday between work and school. It was hot as a mother fucker outside and I was sweating bullets. It was like someone had hosed down my armpits. So I decided I wanted some ice cream. I am not an ice cream fanatic and usually, I don't much care for it. But yesterday I had a craving. So into to Baskin Robbins I went. Apparently since Baskin Robbins and Dunkin Dounuts joined forces, Baskin Robbins has abandoned their 31 flavors motto. This Baskin Robbins was like 5 flavors. True, there were 5 more sherbet flavors, but I don't count that as flavors because I don't eat sherbet so those flavors have no bearing on my life. I was feeling adventrous, so I went with a double scoop. Two things I learned about ice cream. 1.) Double scoops are hard to eat off a cone. 2.) It isn't fun ordering a double scoop alone. I felt like everyone thought I was this lonely, sad person who has to drown her sorrows in two scoops of ice cream. Maybe I just couldn't decide between Jamoca Almond Fudge and Velvet Blue Ribbon, so I got them both. Or maybe I hadn't eaten in 48 hours and I was starving. Or maybe I was going to share my ice cream. I didn't need sympathetic looks for the 16 year old with braces who worked behind the counter. I walked out of Baskin Robbins, eyes to the floor until I got to my car, where I was going to enjoy my double scoop in peace. Of course, there had to be a woman in the car parked next to me who was watching me eat my ice cream, making judgements on the type of person I am, so I had to drive away. I parked in a secluded street that had shade, put on the radio and ate my ice cream. I was ready to go to class (2 hours later) when I realized I spilled about half the ice cream on my shirt. At that point, I didn't need anybody else looing at me to make me feel pathetic.
P.S. For those of your feeling bad for me, I didn't really feel pathetic. I was happy for the excuse to change my sweaty armpit shirt. Hurrah!

etiquette

2005-06-24T11:24:00.000-05:00

Yesterday in my MCAT class my teacher asked if anyone had any tylenol, advil, etc. I said, " I've got excedrin migraine (only the best headache medicine ever). He said, " That's be great." Not even thinking about it, I popped open the top and put two in my hand and gave them to him. He said thanks and then went to take them.

Later in class when the material had lost me beyond the point of return, my mind started to wander. " Jenny, you are so gross." my mind said. " You just put two pills in your hand that someone else was going to put in their mouth! Why didn't you just hand him the jar and he could have had as many as he wanted without the pills coming in contact with your nasty hands?" I don't know why it didn't occur to me. I just hoped it didn't occur to him that I am the grossest person ever and I hope when he left the room after I gave him the excedrin, that it was only to get some water, and that it was not to run to the bathroom, vomit, then scrape off the top layer of pill because I contaminated it.

I dream of MCAT

2005-06-20T08:31:00.000-05:00

My life this summer will be pretty consumed with MCAT stuff, so if it seems like I am not keeping in good contact, blame it on the damn MCAT. I had my first practice test this saturday. Let me just say, I don't really know what all the hype is about. It was pretty simple. There weren't that many questions and I had plenty of time to look over my answers. Psych. Let me actually say that with the score I got, no med school would even hire me to clean their toilets. I know I'm not supposed to get frustrated with this first score, and blah blah blah, but damn. A miracle would have to occur for me to make the kind of improvements I need to do well on this test. And I am old. Everyone at this stupid test was about 20. While 4 years might not seem like a lot, it feels like a lot. And they are all hoping to get in next year. I still have 2 more to go. So maybe that part is good cause I at least have some time to study, practice, import someone else's brain into my head.

On a happier note, I saw Batman Begins this weekend. Awesome.

Travels with Jenny

2005-06-13T16:02:00.000-05:00

Im back from Iceland and I hate computers. I hate them. I wrote this beautiful blog about Iceland and why it was wonderful and I deleted it on accident. Blah. I haven't been writing because I know I can't write about other things until I address Iceland, Boston and Maine so here we go.
Things about Iceland
1. It is the most expensive place I have ever been.
2. It is daylight practically 24 hours a day right now.
3. I hate sheep's head.
4. I drank black death.
5. I saw neat things.
6. It takes about 18-20 hours to drive around the country.
7. They have the best hotdogs in the world.
8. Every town has public hot tubs.
9. I would go back.

Here's Boston:
1. I saw Monica
2. She lives in a nice apartment.
3. She has nice roommates.
4. I watched Spanglish and 13 going on 30. I liked Spanglish better.
5. I miss Monica and I had a great time with her.

Here's Maine:
1. David graduated from college.
2. David's prof. like him.
3. David had nice roommates.
4. David lived in an awesome house. It was messy though.
5. Bowdoin's graduation was long.
6. David is living in Brooklyn.
7. David will be a teacher.

So that is my recap. Now I can blog without the weight of my journey's on me. I will post pictures when I get them online.

Catch up

2005-05-16T11:39:00.000-05:00

It's been a little second since I last wrote, but I have been preoccupied. Tomorrow I leave for Iceland/Boston/Maine. How exciting. Last week I was more than a little overwhelmed with stuff but I can now say that I have completed general chemistry not once, but twice. Thats something not everyone can (or should) brag about. I feel I did significantly better on round two. Let's recap the last week's events.
Last Friday was the Jasch-man's birthday. As Anneeth put it, he is old and salty... he is brine. Well, I happen to like salty so good for me. On the Wed. before the big day, Jascha, me, his sister and brother-in-law all went to Fogo de Chao. It was delicious again and Jascha had a good showing. I believe it was lamb chop 17 where he decided to slow down. If you think that sounds a little gross, trust me, it was. Yet impressive all the same. Then on Friday we went to Jascha's sister's for a delightful meal. In an attempt to show I am not domestically challenged, I made a cake. Let's just say, I should have bought something. While I think it went down rather well, it's presentation was lacking something. I'd say stability was the main problem. My problem is I lack the patience to let anything cool. It was too hot to take out of the pan so it fell apart kinda. I put it back together, and iced it and it looked nice. Then on the way to his sister's house, I notice the cake was seperating. A huge crater formed in the middle. It looked like the seperation of the America's and Europe. Two thanksgiving candles later, it was a mess, but it sure tasted good.
We then went bowling where I bowled nothing noteworthy. A bunch of friends showed up. I think it was a delightful time. I hope Jascha felt the same.
Then it was on to Mother's day. I scored big with a nice dinner reservation, a nice brunch reservation and an even better present for Mom. We had a slumber party and then went to see a play, Lost Land with John Malkovich at Steppenwolf. Again, delightful.
Next, study time. We can fast forward to Thursday after the test.
I approached my professor after the exam, stated how I enjoyed the class, and asked if it might be alright if I emailed him in the fall about a letter of recommendation for medical school. He looked at me and asked, " Are you a regular student or..." I said, "No, I'm a post bac." He said, "Ohhhh...so you really don't have anyone else to ask then." What kind of comment is that to make to someone who is asking you for a recommendation. I felt stupid enough asking someone who clearly doesn't know my name for one, but he sure didn't put me at ease. The sad truth is, as far as science professors go, I don't have anyone else to ask. I don't know how anyone gets known in a class of 100 people except by being obnoxious. Maybe Ill try that next semester for orgo.
Lastly, this weekend was another one of leisure. I did laundry and got excited about my trip. I overpacked, but nothing can be done about that.
So...I anticipate having internet access while I away and I will do my best to post a thing or two. Otherwise you will hear all about it in my epic tale, "Jenny and the Trolls of the Blue Lagoon."

Chauncy

2005-05-03T16:59:00.000-05:00

I am overwhelmed and a little emotional over the outpouring of support for my blog. And while most of you were just stroking, rather, molesting my ego, I appreciate it. Because you love this blog so, I will continue to write, continue to shower the world via the internet with my love and insight.
On another note, I am planning on moving this summer and I need some suggestions as to where. I'm staying in Chicago, but I need to leave Lakeview, at least the part of lakeview I am at. I'm thinking Roscoe Village. However, Bucktown and Ukranian Village are not out of the realm of possiblities. Logan Square is also nice. Anyone who has insight on some of these areas, please, let your thoughts be known. I'm just tired of paying too much for too little. My place is fine, but I pay too much. I refuse to pay for parking anymore. I don't want to hear sirens and construction all day and all night. I want some space. I want different types of folks livng around me. Am I asking for too much? Perhaps. But that isn't going to stop me from asking YOU for your help moving me come this hot, humid, sticky, moist, damp, uncomfortable July-August. So be prepared.

Iceland

2005-05-02T10:41:00.000-05:00

For those of you who don't know, I'm going to Iceland mid May. I'm really starting to get excited. There are a lot of things I have to do before I go. Here are some of those things.
1. Study for quiz and final exam in Chemistry.
2. Celebrate Jascha's birthday at Fogo de Chao (ie big meat place).
3. Take quiz and final exam for chemsitry.
4. Celebrate Jascha's birthday with his sister, brother-in-law and brother-in-laws family
5. Find a dress to wear to the weddings I have to go to this summer.
6. Clear up/ wrap up work stuff.
7. Rent a car for Iceland.
8. Decide how I am getting to the airport.
9. Meet with premed couselor to schedule my future.

This might not sound like a lot, but perhaps I am easily overwhelmed. I feel like Jesse Spano in the episode we all know and love where she takes the speed to stay awake. Sometimes I just want to yell, "There's no time. There's never any time! I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I'm so, so, ...scared." Though I'm not really scared because I'm not on drugs. I just need some more time.

Things I will be doing in Iceland:
1. Going to the Blue Lagoon
2. Exploring Reykjavik.
3. Visiting the many hot baths around the area.
4. Going to Grundarfjordur
5. Visiting the penis museum
6. Driving along the countryside
7. Going on a fishing boat
8. Eating rotten shark
9. Drinking Black Death
10. See some elves
11. See some Puffins

I'm pretty pumped. In a conversation about what to do while we are there, Jackie and I were discussing going on a fishing boat. Spending some time out at sea, smelling the salty air. However, my dear vegetarian friend lamented, " I just don't think I can watch the slaughter of fish." Hmmm.
Regardless of a fishing trip, Jackie and I are gonna have a grand ole' time and have some stories to tell when we get back. Maybe I can even get her to eat some meat.

What a stupid blog

2005-05-02T10:31:00.000-05:00

I hate my blog. Im about to endulge in a little self loathing, so if you aren't interested in my pity party, I suggest you check back in for my next entry. Every time I look back and read my past entries, or just the subject lines, I realize I hate what I have written. More so, I hate that whatever I choose to write about, let's use bangs as an example, was the most interesting thing I had going on that day. I read other people's blogs and they are all pretty funny. They have witty conversations to retell or strange dreams or enlightening observations on life. Me, I have bangs. Well, I don't have bangs, but I have the inner conflict of whether on not to get bangs. That sucks. And now, I have spent another entry on bangs. Im sure Ill hate it in about 5 minutes.

She bangs, she bangs

2005-04-29T12:37:00.000-05:00

Soooo Im thinking of getting bangs. Not short hipster bangs. More like long, sexy, across my eyes bangs. Thoughts? I have pretty much had the same haircut for my entire life, minus a few permed years and a brief flirtation with short, hilary clintonesque (my brother's description, not mine) hair. I need something new. But I think long hair is the most flattering look for me. But maybe bangs would suit me. This kind of commitment is more than I can handle or decide on my own. I remember how long it took to grow hilary out and I just can't go through that again. It still hurts.

Thick in the waist and pretty in the face.

2005-04-28T15:46:00.000-05:00

I was once told by a client at one of the clinics I work for, " Ooohhh girl, yous thick." This was said while he was licking his lips and looking at me lecherously. It was hot really. After I confirmed with a coworker that thick was a good thing, I felt ok. Maybe having a fat ass and a round middle has its advantages. However this past weekend I went dress shopping. After the fact of three weddings in one summer hit me, I realized I needed at least one new outfit. I found a super girlie dress ( the first one you see after clicking the link. The black off the shoulder one) that I really enjoyed wearing. I bought it, brought it home and proceeded to wear it the rest of the evening. I pretty much wear it everytime I am home. Im trying to see if it actually looks good on me, or if Im just wishing it did. The thing is, I look really thick in it. I don't really feel that I look thick in the good way either. I feel chodie. Short and squat. However, it does make my curves look all the more curvy, so maybe that's a good thing. Anyway, there is no real point to this blog except to point out that I am thick, be that good or bad. And I'll probably still wear the dress because even thick girls need to wear fun dresses.

Oh Suzy Q!

2005-04-25T16:08:00.000-05:00

So I brought left over salad from the cheese cake factory to work today for lunch. It was so so the first time around and then just plain groos on day two. The wontons were soggy and the crispy noodles not crispy. I ate some of it and figured I could wait until I got home to eat something substantial (ie ramen noodles). However, my lack of will power won (what a suprise) and I went to my car, grabbed change and proceeded to the vending machine. Now, there is only 1 thing I eat out of that vending machine. It's not the trail mix and it's not the granola bar. It happens to be the hostess treats that so divinely grace one of the slots. To my dismay, there were 3 people in the vending room. How can I buy the most disgustingly unhealthy item with three witnesses? So I linger, pretending to decide what I want. There is one gentleman in overalls who lingers longer than the rest. Finally I tell myself I'm being an idiot and put the coins in the slot. The last guy leaves before I have to press in 77. The Suzy Q's fall. I snatch them up quickly and proceed to casually shove them in the front pocket of my sweatshirt, trying not to draw attention to myself. This is after all, the easiest, most natural place to carry them? What else is a pocket for? As I leave the vending room, overall man starts singing " Ohh Suzy Q, baby I love you, Suzy Q." I glared, he snickered. Who does that anyway? Crazy man, that's who. Despite his heckling, I have already enjoyed half of my Suzy Q (the other half now being on my mouse).

Crack for your ears

2005-04-25T15:16:00.000-05:00

So for those of you who are Amelie soundtrack lovers, you need to listen to, and then promptly buy, Yann Tierson and Shannon Wright. That is both the name of the album and the name of the people responsible for it. Yann is the guy who did the soundtrack for amelie, and shannon, well, I don't know her, but she appears to have a great voice.It's addictive. Also, if anyone is dying to get me a present, this would be perfect.

ch-ch-changes

2005-04-25T14:14:00.000-05:00

So, Im changing the formatting of my blog. It seems people prefer to have access to all my blogs at once (and really, who could blame them). So, hopefully when I'm done, you will be able to read each months blogs on one page. I'm also going to shoot for quantity over quality. More blogs, less content. I tend to get too wordy. Feel free to let me know what you think of all this chaos.

I am judgemental

2005-04-20T08:37:00.000-05:00

This past weekend a group of friends and I went bowling at Diversy Rock N' Bowl. First of all, I hate it there. I'm not a big fan of rock n' bowl to begin with. The strobe lights, black lights, blarring music and fog machines are just not my cup of tea. The balls there are greasy (pause for a giggle thinking of greasy balls) because there are a lot of little kid's birthday parties there and greasy pizza is served and unlike myself, these kids haven't learned to wipe there greasy hands on their pants before they bowl. The frozen pizza they heated up for me was too expense, the lanes are too expensive ($32 an hour!!!) but most of all, their late night clientel sucks. Personally, I prefer to bowl with balding, middle aged men with tattoos, facial hair and beer bellys. You get none of this at rock n' bowl. Instead, every bimbo in a tube top and every smug, overly confident dude go there for fun. My comrades and I were having a fine time before the lane next to us was overrun by the aforementioned folks. There was one chica in particular that made me grit my teeth and glare in disgust. She was about 5'7, bleached blonde, wearing a tube topish shit and painted on jeans. I hated her before I saw her bowl and dispised her after. She was good. REAL good. And nothing would have made me happier than to punch her in the face. Jackie and Lara agreed with my assessment. They thought she was a nasty bitch too. She did this stupid "shake my butt and put my hands over my head when I get a strike" dance the made my blood boil. I'm all for a celebratory dance...in fact, I demand it. However celebratory dances are supposed to come from a silly, happy, effusive and uncontrollable place within. They are not about looking cute. The opposite is true. They are about looking as ridiculous as possible. We told Lara's husband, Rick, about our analysis of the girl, and he just didn't understand it. So for all you guys out there who don't understand how a woman can hate another woman she has never even met, here are some clues. 1. She wears her hair down while bowling. No one who has long hair does that because it gets in your face. 2. I already discussed the stupid dance. 3. Tube top. There is a certain kind of girl who wears a tube top bowling (there is a certain kind of girl who wears a tube top ever, but that is another blog altogether and sometimes good girls make bad clothing decisions when they are going to a bar). She was busting out of this tube top and it was not condusive to the movement neccesary for bowling. 4. She was with other people who also looked almost as annoying as her. 5. She was a good bowler. You can't be gussied up and a good bowler. I'm sorry but that means that I just have to hate you. So why have I spent the last few minutes ranting about a girl who I don't know and who probably didn't even notice I was next to her, thinking of more reasons not to like her? Because I didn't have anything else more interesting to write about. I guess if I have nothing more interesting to write about than my dislike for a stranger, I'm the big loser in the end. So be it.

Lockout fees are dumb

2005-04-07T14:23:00.000-05:00

You know what pisses me off? A landlord charging a fee to let you into your apartment. That's crap. I locked my keys in my apartment this morning. I have done this several times before, so I keep a spare set of keys in my coat pocket (which I normally wear). However today, that coat was locked in my car with the keys to it in my locked apartment. Sigh. The first time I locked myself out, the "landlady" said she'd let me in for free...bit only this one time. Then I did it again and she charged me $10! All this woman's job consists of is making my life uncomfortable and letting people into their apartment. I have never seen her in anything other than a moo-moo. She is about 65, though she acts 110, has dyed orange hair and owns a psycho rescue rat named Penny. I hate this dog, and I am a dog lover. My hatred is not so much because of the dog, but because of Ms. Moo-moo. When I first moved in she asked me what I did. I said research. She said, “Oh it better not be on animals. It makes me sick when people do experiments on poor, helpless, defenseless animals.” Yeah, just like the research that had to be done to test your Aquanet and “Blood of Tenants*” shade of lipstick. I hate that too. Idiot. Also when I first moved in, she told me how she just got out of the hospital because she was having blood and puss leaking from her fat roll in her stomach and it turned out she had a yeast infection there because you can have a yeast infection anywhere it is damp and moist, according to her. If you feel whatever it was you just ate creeping up the back of your throat while reading that, just imagine me having to act like this was a normal subject of conversation while hearing it. Not fun. Anyway, she doesn’t do shit and when she does she bitches about it to no end (but this only happens after 11am, because God forbid she doesn’t get her beauty sleep). If I could put $10 in a deposit box, not speak to anyone and get my spare key to let myself in, that would be no problem. However, there is no chance in hell I will ever again pay $10 to have talk with her (which is necessary to get the key). I should get $10 taken off my rent every time I have to see her. There is a reason that they charge $30 less rent for the apartment next to hers than every other identical apartment in the building. So, back to my point, paying for a let-in is stupid, that is why I give my friends my keys, so I can trek all over town to have them give me my key for free. Thanks Lindsay.

*There is an actual shade of lipstick called Blood of Tenants, but you have to pass a bitch test to access it.

It's my birthday and I'll glow if I want to.

2005-04-04T11:56:00.000-05:00

Another year has passed and I am 24. It’s a funny thing, because on the one hand, I still feel pretty young. Most the people I work with are in their late 20’s/ early 30’s. I am still the baby. On the other hand, I feel old. I’m in my mid 20’s for God’s sake. I still have a lot of shit I need to get done and time is a-ticking. I can’t complain too much because I’ve had a pretty spectacular birthday week. It started on the Friday before my birthday. Jascha cooked an amazing dinner and invited a few friends over to share it with me. The dinner included a sushi and egg roll appetizer, salmon and rice entrée and birthday cake to top it off. All of the food was fantastic, Jascha’s apartment was immaculate, there were balloons, friends, banners and happiness and it was just a wonderful present. Jascha’s brother-in-law asked me what I thought of all the work Jascha did. I told him I was very surprised and happy. Not that I don’t expect wonderful things from Jascha, but let’s face it, men aren’t always as sweet and considerate as we hope them to be. This was sweet and considerate beyond my expectations, so I was thrilled. Then it was my actual birthday that Tues. Nothing too spectacular there, mostly because I had school and was stressed out for a quiz on Thurs. Still, I had a record number of calls and emails wishing me a happy day. I always feel a little sheepish when I get that call from a friend wishing me a happy birthday when I have never once in the history of our friendship remembered theirs. My parents sent me flowers at work. Not just flowers. Orchids. And lots of them. They were so beautiful that they really cheered me up (not that I was really down, just not excited about going to class). Then I went to school (blaah blaah blaah) and then Jascha cooked me a birthday meal! Excellent. So then, birthday fun carried over to Wed. because I took the day off so I could relax a bit. Jascha and I went to the Lincoln Park Zoo because 1.) I like animals, 2.) He’d never been there and 3.) It was a beautiful, warm day. It was a lot of fun. For the record, my favorites are the apes and the seals. So finally, my birthday week was wrapped up yesterday. My parents came into the city and we went to see Les Miserables. Now, for the record, I hate musicals. I think they are cheesy and stupid and pointless. The music is awful and it sticks in your head in the bad way. However, there are two exceptions to my hating musicals rule. 1. Les Miserables. 2. Fiddler on the Roof. For this blog I will focus on Les Mis. The music is so beautiful and rich and catchy that I can’t help but either smile widely or cry hysterically. It always needs to be played at full blast and sung at the top of your lungs. I had tearstains on my shirt after the play was done. OH it was wonderful. I went on my first date ever to see Les Mis with my father when I was about seven. I was all dressed up and we went by ourselves to enjoy the theater. I even got out of school for it. So not only is it a fantastic show but it brings back good memories. We went to dinner at MK, a swanky restaurant downtown, afterwards. If you have the means (or your parent’s means) I highly recommend eating there. It was delicious. We went back to my apartment and opened some presents (more than I deserved) and said our goodbyes. It was a wonderful Sunday spent with my family.

So now, a week after my birthday, I think the festivities are about done. I think there is a bowling trip in the mix for a belated birthday, but that is yet to be decided. I’m 24 and couldn’t be happier. I am surrounded by sweet people who love me and I love them. I can’t wait for next year! Yeah Me.

A Database of Jews

2005-03-25T08:42:00.000-06:00

Last night I received a phone call at about 8:30pm. It was a telemarketer on a mission from God. Sometimes when telemarketers call I like to hear them out. Who knows, they might offer me a million dollars no strings attached just cause I stayed on the phone. Also, telemarketers are people too, and I'd hate to hurt my fellow man by hanging up on him abruptly. Though I must admit that it is a little embarrassing when Timelife calls me and says, "Ms. Aron, we see that you recently purchased Beavis and Butthead's first three volumes. How are you enjoying those so far?" I know these are people in their middle age years laughing about the ignoramus who bought beavis and butthead's first three seasons(though I do enjoy them). I almost want to engage them in conversation to see if they too enjoy Beavis, or if they prefer Butthead. Last night a gentleman called from the United Jewish Federation or something like that. You could tell he had a script because there was a long pause between each question. It was almost like he was anticipating me hanging up on him. He told me how the Jewish people had struggled over the years and how in these trying times it was important for Jews to stick together and help their own. The federation or what have you has been helping Jews across the world and in the chicagoland for years. Now, at this point I realized that he must know Im a Jew. I can't imagine calling a clan member and asking them for money to help the Jewish cause. But how did he know? How did he know!? After his schpiel about the greatness of Jews and yadda yadda yadda, he said, "So can we count on you to donate $150 by years end?" $150!!!! Who does this guy think I am? Money bags? So I said, "No, I can't afford that." He said, " What about $50?" Me, "Nope." Him, " How about $36 (I don't know where he got 36 from)" and I said, "No." Now, it wasn't so much that I couldn't afford $36 for my fellow brethren, but to be honest, I am weary of organizations that only help their own. Especially religious organizations. I'd much rather give much cash to health research, feeding hungry kids or NPR. So then I asked this gentleman who I believe was not Jewish (don't ask me why),"How did you get my number?" and he said, and very curtly I might add, " Our database." I said, "you have a database of JEWS!?" He said, "Yes." and then hung up on me. 1. I won because he hung up on me before I hung up on him. 2. Maybe if he asked me for $3.56 I would have given it to him, I think he stopped a little short with $36. 3. A database of Jews?! How is that possible? How did I get on that list? I never signed a Jewish guestbook or signed up for Jewish emails. I never even went on J-date. Jews aren't necessarily the most beloved group of folks either. Some people seem to have it in for us. And if the day comes where they want to find some Jews quick, my blond hair and Christmas tree love aren't going to save me. If I'm on a database of Jews, I imagine that would be the kiss of death. But what the hell. I'm a Jew and I'm proud, so if I'm on some database, well, maybe I should be proud. I worry that I am "not Jewish enough" sometimes, but like I said, if I'm on a database reserved only for Jews, that must mean I'm a true blue Jew. This database will hold up in Israel right? I can use it as proof if they doubt my heritage? These are questions I should have asked before the telemarketer hung up. To be honest, in writing this blog, I realize that I get a catalog from the Jewish Federation. It has stuff like menorrah's and skull caps and dreidels. I think my mom signed me up for a subscription as a Christmas gift last year along with Newsweek and Bon Appetite. And just like an episode of Law and Order, the mystery of this blog has been solved in one hour(as sad as it is, that is how long it took for me to write this).

My BFF turns 24!

2005-03-21T08:27:00.000-06:00

Hurrah Hurray! It’s Lindsay's birthday!! That’s right, one of my oldest friends just turned twenty-four today and I’d like to make this blog a tribute to her because I think she is just fabulous. So to start, a compare and contrast between Lindsay and myself.
Differences between Linds and me:
She has great fashion sense, I do not. She prefers a white, black and green color scheme, while I prefer a little more color. She studied abroad in England while I went to Spain. She doesn’t eat red meat, I happen to love it. She is beautifully in shape, I am not. She can run for at least an hour (I’m fairly sure she can run for more than that, but I’m keeping it safe), I can’t really run for more than 20 paces, definitely can’t finish a mile. She can get tan, I cannot. She’s got mad graphic design and art skills. I don’t. She doesn’t have a garbage can, I do. She does not have a blog, I do.
Similarities between Linds and me:
We both Aries, and both 24, and both fabulous, and both living in Chicago, both transfer students (her more than me), both lovers of sushi, both skiers, both scuba divers, both enjoy dancing, both can laugh our behinds off at each other, both like to sing loudly in the car, both early to bed-ers, both apple picker and both fantastic people to know.

Ok, enough compare and contrast. Basically, I am trying to illustrate that while we are very different people, we have some key personality traits in common that have bonded us together for life. I was going to list off some of my favorite memories with her and I couldn’t choose which to include. Do I tell how we would sit on each other’s stomachs and just start laughing hysterically without really being able to stop? Or do I tell about driving in her car around Chicago signing Junior Senior at the top of our lungs, dancing like fools? Or maybe her birthday last year when she took a shot out of the ass of a plastic sheep? Or how about when we were in 5th grade, flanked with the third of our whole unit, Monica, and we snuck into the boy’s military academy? Or maybe when we would dance and act the night away, all for the video camera to capture? Our days on the field hockey field? Or maybe the Smokey Mountains? Or the Virgin Islands? Or Canada? Or Prom? Or any freaking time I am with the girl? Because any minute I am with her is a favorite moment. To have a friend who you can laugh with and cry with and gossip with and dance with and sing with and act a fool with and be yourself with, even if you are molded out of completely different clay from one another, is the most special, happy, wonderful feeling in the world. Lindsay is a person who can cheer me up with a doodle from her notepad or a phone call or a ride in her car. I’m so lucky to be her friend, and be able to celebrate her birthday together. So three cheers to the talented, caring, charming, beautiful Lindsay. I love you to death and wish you many more happy birthdays to come!

Feelings, nothing more than feelings

2005-03-11T15:58:00.000-06:00

Long time no see, eh? I know, I know, I have been super lax in writing. Finding time and topics to write about aren’t as easy as I first anticipated. I could talk to you about the BBQ beef I ate for lunch, or the waitress at Goose Island who looks just like my friend from 6th grade, but I have a feeling those topics interests no one, including myself. I’m starting a new project for work soon involving injecting drugs users, so I imagine that will provide me with some life commentaries.
I wrote a blog entry about a week ago. It was about looking to the future and things men and women have to think about as they get older. It was a little more personal than I usually write, so after having it posted for about 3 hours, I took it down. I felt naked and vulnerable and uncomfortable. It wasn’t anything that private, most people who know me probably know my thoughts about the future anyway, but for some reason, I was really uncomfortable having that information up there for all to see and reference. Which brings me to my point. If I’m not going to share a little private piece of myself, why blog in the first place? I once asked my mother if she read my blog. She said no. She said that it wasn’t me, and she didn’t want to read my diary and my private thoughts. I reassured her I never really put anything too private up and she counter by asking, “Well then why do it?” I didn’t have a good answer, though I pretended like I did so that she wouldn’t think herself smarter than I…I doubt she was convinced. From most blogs I read, people don’t really put too much of themselves out there. They don’t talk about their secret dreams, their crushes, their devastations. Yet, I still enjoy reading them. Maybe what we need from a blog is to be filled in on the simple details and opinions of our friends on a daily (or weekly or monthy) basis. As for the big stuff, well, that’s what phones and road trips are for. Maybe by putting the really big emotions into a blog, we render one on one communication useless. Why call Cindy Lu to find out about how she feels about her new romance when I can just read it in her blog? I don’t actually think this is why we don’t put down the intimate details in blog format. I actually think it is because once you put that information out there for all to see, and there is a permanent record of how you feel; you can never deny that feeling. You can’t deny you were scared or hurt or elated. Everyone already knows. You have no more secrets and you have no more barriers. Maybe a world filled with people with their guard down would be a better place, but I, for one, am not about to be the first to start.

Little Buddy in "Chai-town"

2005-02-26T13:41:00.000-06:00

A week from yesterday, I had a visit in the form of a little buddy. That's right, Ms. Sarah came for a visit. For those of you who aren't familiar...Sarah is a dear friend of mine who I met while studying abroad in Spain. She now lives in San Francisco. I upped the ante by visiting her along with other Spain buddies in July of last year, so she owed me. But oh the time we had. You know how in life you have friends that make you laugh? But not just any laughing. Hysterical, stop breathing, nonsensical laughing, and all the time. It was great. Our trip included the art institute, a play at the Goodman, some bowling...and lots and lots of food. I'd say the highlight of out feasting was on Saturday evening where we joined Jascha, his sister Alisa, and her husband David at Fogo de Chao. It was David's birthday and apparently he wanted to either celebrate it in style or celebrating by watching Jascha stuff his cute little face with meat. Either way he got what he was looking for. It is a Brazilian style restaurant (though I can't imagine anyone in Brazil eats this much) where they have about 20 kinds of meat on skewers and they come around and keep serving you until you puke. My favorite was the fillet mignon and the rump roast...Jascha the lamb chops and Sarah the bacon wrapped chicken. My only complaint is that if you are going to make a restaurant touting all you can eat meat, make the bathroom stalls those uber private, individual bathroom in a public bathroom types. No woman wants to hear other women pooping and no woman wants to poop with other women listening. That is all I can say. I can't speak to how men feel because maybe they like to hear each other poop. Anyway it was a delicious meal and a wonderful visit from Sarah. It is nice when you can actually keep friends with the cool people you met a long time ago. P.S. She didn't know if it was chi-town or chai-town...either way, they are both stupid and I do like chai.

Jenny gets her romance on.

2005-02-23T20:09:00.000-06:00

Ahhh Valentine's Day (yes I know it was over a week ago). The birds were flitting through the air. The bees were buzzing merrily along. The brutally cold wind was darting in and out of buildings. And what's more, Jenny had a date. For the first time in many years, I had a date on Valentine's Day and it wasn't with a box of chocolates and it wasn't with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal and it wasn't with my parents. No. This year I had a date with my beau, Jascha. You couldn't really ask a for better date on Valentine's Day. I have been pretty bitter about V-day in the past, but this year it was all hearts and cupids for me. We spent the evening at Shaw's Crab House. I even put on a dress and took off my glasses for the occasion. Actually, we made quite the handsome couple if I may say so myself. Both of us decked out in red and black. Jascha was dressed to the nine's in his black suit and shirt and red tie. If I felt a little foolish playing dress up, that was dispelled when we were seated next to a couple in their late teens. At least we got to order wine. Ha. It was a terribly romantic evening with valet parking and high heels and chocolate covered strawberries. However, none of that was even necessary because in the end, Valentine's Day is made by the company you keep, and I had some pretty terrific company on Feb. 14th.

How to make a man swoon: strangle him.

2005-02-07T08:16:00.000-06:00

"Plan a guy’s dream nightDinner at a fancy restaurant? A moonlit ride in a horse-drawn carriage? This might be your idea of a night of bliss, but he’d rather kick it back at home, watch some TV on the flat screen, and make out. Sure, guys are romantics, but they’re also a bit lazy. They don’t require extravagant dates with exotic itineraries, where they have to dress up and spend lots of cash. Save that for your special night on the town. The recipe to his dream night is much simpler. All you need to supply is: Great entertainment (rent a guy classic movie, such as Old School or The Big Lebowski); great food (pizza with any meat topping or steak burritos will suffice); and great company. As long as you show up, he’s happy as a clam. "

The above recently appeared on msn's dating and personals site. It comes from an "article" little ways to make him swoon by Jonathan Small. The article in general didn't offer me any mind blowing swooning techniques (1. I already make mix cds, 2. emails? Are you kidding me? and 3. Ego stroking isn't my deal. If they need their ego stroked then they need not be with me). I was a little disgusted by the above suggestion of a dinner in. The frustrating part is that pretty much every suggestion Mr. Small mentioned for an ideal guy's night is my ideal. I resent i him calling The Big Lebowski a guy's movie. It's not. It is a multisexed, androgynous movie for males, females and trangenders. Why do guy's get movies that are funny and enjoyable, while girls get How to lose a guy in 10 days and Two Weeks Notice? Why do I have to feel less feminine for loving The Big Lebowski? Also, why does a woman's idea of a ideal meal have to be a skimpy portion of salmon or one roll of sushi? Mr. Small, did you ever stop to think that when a gal gets a "special" meal where she can eat anything she wants, she might want a big, fat chipotle burrito or a meatlovers pizza? I just resent that it is implied that these things are manly things and the women who love them must then be manly too. I'm not the most delicate flower in the bouquet, I'll grant you that. However, there are sturdy, pizza eating, Big Lebowski watching, homebody flowers too. And they are beautiful flowers all the same. Probably the thing that I am most offended by is Smally's implication that if a woman takes a man out on an expensive date, the man is going to pay. First of all, if the lass is taking the lad out for a night on the town to make him swoon, I assume she's paying. If my presence was requested at a 5 star, $80 a plate dinner, I sure as hell wouldn't be paying, so why expect the guy to do the same? And why imply that a lady can't take her man out on her own dime? What kind of women do you know, Smally? So bite me with your "guy classic movies," bite me with your man only food, and really F off with your "expecting to pay even though you were invited out because you are a man and men pay" ways. If I were going to make you swoon I would feed you a dollop of caviar on tiny crackers followed by pate and broth while you were dressed in a tuxedo and watching Gigli. I'd swoon you right out the door, you idiot. I'm never reading msn for man swooning advice again...at least not until tomorrow.

Say no to stalkers.

2005-02-03T18:00:00.000-06:00

So basically the first verse of G unit's "I wanna get to know ya (don't ask why I was listening to this song)" is about a stalker. I mean, hello, she gives you the wrong number, and then you drive by the house and honk your horn. And then, if she comes out, "it's on." I don't think so. If she gave you the wrong number it means she doesn't want your crazy ass calling her for whatever reason. You can then deduce that if she doesn't want to talk to you on the phone, then she definitely doesn't want to see you hanging out in front of her house at night honking your horn. That's just creepy. And if for some reason she does come out, it's not going to be to get "it on." It's going to be to kick your ass for waking her up in the middle of the night acting like a lunatic. Ladies, am I crazy? So fellas, if a girl gives you a fake number, it is a not so subtle hint to leave her alone. For some reason, you creeped her out enough when she was talking to you that she couldn't just say, "Im not interested." She had to lie to get you away from her. That should be another hint right there. So way to go first verse man in G unit, you're certifiably creepy. Way to go.

Lift the ban Nemo!

2005-01-28T15:59:00.000-06:00

I told nemo that I have a website and that his site has a link on my site and wouldn't it be so nice if he returned the favor and put my link under his "friends." He said, "Jenny, there are very strick criteria that one needs to meet to get a link on my site?" "Like donate lots of money to your cause, nemo?" "No Jenny. I provide links for free. However, one has to prove that they will be a consistant blogger and not just abandon there site. I mean, what credit would I have if I had a whole bunch of now defunct links on my site? Oh and by the way, did you know I'm an idiot?" "Yes, nemo, I knew that. At first I threatened to take down the link to nemo's site. However, I soon realized that this would be childish and make me no better than him. I did explain to nemo that if it turns out I am not a good blogger, he couls simply remove me. I also realised that until very recently (like the other week when I pointed it out to him) he had a now defunct link to our friend Tina's old site. So Nemo, there is an error in your logic. I urge everyone to let nemo know how you feel about this. He has a comments section on his site. Please, tell him more people should have access to all the Jenny they want (I fully expect all of no comments begging for my inclustion to actually appear on nemo's site . Suprise me people!). If you'd like to get to nemo's site faster, click on nemo, him, he or idiot. In one of his more recent blogs, nemo did provide a link to me in his text, but as a bridesmaid in his wedding, I deserve more. I think the waiting period to get a perma link should be lifted for me. So there.
Note to readers: I don't actually believe that nemo is an idiot. He happens to be a very good friend. Im only lashing out because of the pain I feel every time I see I am not under his friend's list of links. If I never get that link, I will continue to be friend's with nemo and just cry myself to sleep at night. I can live with that.

Introducing the "Sweet and Sour"

2005-01-23T21:54:00.000-06:00

Today I went to breakfast/lunch (yes, some would call it "brunch") with Nemo, who was visiting, and Jascha. We went to one of my favorite places, the Melrose Restaurant. It is a diner with particularly good food. Plus, I live close by, so parking is never an issue. Anyway, this time, as with anytime I eat breakfast food at a diner, I can never decide whether I want sweet or salty. If I enter the restaurant with a sweet craving and order, say, french toast or chocolate chip pancakes, I get through half the meal and really crave eggs benedict or the lox sandwich. The same happens if I have a salty craving, though not with the same intensity. I can usually finish my salty foods, only mildly desiring a piece of cake. With sweet foods I can't finish more then two thirds before I absolutely cannot eat another bite unless I have an egg with cheese (Those same people who call it "brunch" would call this an "omelette,"bourgeois bastards). My first question is, am I alone? Do other people have this same afliction? And if people do suffer this same problem then I pose a second question. Why not make a platter called "the Sweet and Sour?" You could choose from either a small french toast or pancake platter of your choosing (ie chocolate chips, coconut, marshmallow) and then a small egg, lox, or other platter from the saltly genre. Eggs benedict, biscuits and gravy, peanut butter covered hash browns, they would all be options. That way you get the best of both worlds. The Melrose has a 2 by 2 plate that has two regular pancakes (boring) with an egg side, but frankly, that doesn't wet my palate. Jascha ordered this meal and I was really unimpressed by both the presentation and his enjoyment level. With so many delicious options at your finger tips, I really think the Sweet and Sour would be huge. Pacific Ocean huge. Mt. Everst huge. Anna Nicole Smith boob implant huge. You get what I'm saying.
PS, liquid all wheel drive rules.

Seattle me up baby.

2005-01-20T17:01:00.000-06:00

About a week and a half ago I ventured to the soggy costal city of Seattle to spend some quality time with my hetero life mate, tina. Things this trip included:
1. tina (duh)
2. karaoke (see post "things I think are wonderful" to see how I feel about that)
3. a ferry ride
4. Victoria, BC (via ferry ride)
5. Swimming pool and sauna
6. Peter and Chloe
7. podengos
8. bungy sling shots (of which I broke the harness while flying in the air. Let me tell you, that really helped my self esteem.) and putt putt
9. burnt salmon
10. miniature world
11. christmas town (where storekepper kept a close eye on us trouble makers)
12. happy memories (click on tina and see some pictures of said memories)

So it was a fantastic trip overall. There was lots of girl talk, sleeping in, driving and laughing. I don't see tina as often as I'd like, but when I do see her, it's like we never missed a beat. We shar a passion for When Harry Met Sally, sleeping in, checking email and all cheese related products. Other than the several hour wait at the airport (in part due to dumb Chicago and their typical delays, in other part to dumb jenny switching her ticket from 2:30p to 11:50 p because I was at the airport early. Yes, I am aware that 11:50p is later than 2:30p, but when you allow passengers to change their tickets with no supervision, you are bound to have these kind of mishaps) there was not a bad part about visiting seattle. I am planning already looking forward to my next trip.

Things I think are wonderful.

2005-01-06T14:40:00.000-06:00

I would just like to preface this entry with this: I wrote this entry once already but it was lost before I posted it. It was probably much more funny and charming the first time around. I thought about writing "Things I think suck" and number one would be getting a long entry deleted, but then I thought it better to start the new year on a positive note. So at long last "Things I think are wonderful."
Karaoke
So last night a group of friends and I went to karaoke. I used to be very nervous about karaoke and avoid it at all costs. However, once you do it, it is a little bit addictive. Songs I sang included "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash, "I'm just a girl" by No Doubt and"Miss You" by the Rolling Stones. However the coup de grace was a duet performed with a fellow Heb entitled, "If I were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof. You know it. And if you don't know it you should be ashamed. It was pretty spectacular and well received by all except the table of Southeast Asians who may have felt a little excluded by my "This one goes out to all the Jews out there." All the same, it was quite a show. Karaoke really makes you feel...ALIVE!
Snow
So I love winter and I LOVE snow. I realize that there are people who see the snow as an inconvenience more than a pleasure and I probably would too if I didn't have a warm place to sleep and depended on public transit. But fortunately I can hide from the elements and enjoy them at my leisure. Do you remember the game Donkey Kong adventure from Super Nintendo? And do you remember the level where they were in a snowy tundra and every once and awhile it would snow? Well, that level filled me with joy. And I feel that same joy when I look out to see 3-7 inches of snow falling on this beautiful city. Everything is so quiet and peaceful. I love the snow. I love eating snow. I love running in snow. I love falling in snow. I love watching other people fall in snow. It is pure joy come to life.
My Subaru
When my dear, old, dependable Galant became a lot less dependable and a lot more old this past fall, I went on a search for a new vehicle and immediately fell in love with the Subaru Impreza hatchback. I love it. It is truly wonderful. I love it because it is the car that suits the life I see myself living more so than the life I actually live. In this version I live out west in the mountains. I am rugged and outdoorsy. I camp and ski all the time. I need space to haul around my two yellow labs and firewood. I am immersed in nature and activity and need a vehicle that will support that life. In reality I live in the city. I live in an apartment with no fireplace so I have no need for firewood. I have no dogs because I am not allowed to in my apartment. I don't do many ourdoors activities because I am lazy and there aren't many available. The biggest challenges I need a vehicle to overcome are the occasional snow storm and dodging old people on the road. All I need to lug around are groceries (which, if we are being honest, I don't often have because I shop at walgreens) and laundry (because I refuse to pay to clean my clothes.) Yet I love my car because I can pretend I am living that dream life. And this morning after a significant snow my car both started and was able to plow its way out of a snow tomb with out fishtailing once. I love it and I think it is wonderful.
There are more things I think are wonderful, however I'm tired of writing, as this was my second time around writing this entry. Maybe later I give you some more tasty morsels.
Until then...

IV: Return of the Jeni: Sun Sets on Gringa

2004-12-20T14:40:00.000-06:00

(South America 2003, IV)
Hello fans!

So, as tomorrow is the fourth and I begin my voyage home, this will be my final email to you all. The last week has been pretty great and there is lots to tell.
So after our Ecuador expeditions, we got the hell out of dodge (after a somewhat lengthy plane delay). We arrived in Lima, Peru only to find the crazy woman at the hostal we had called 6 times to confirm wasn't awake or open to receive us. We found shelter (the same location we are staying tonight) and got 5 hours of sleep before we awoke to go back to the airport. We also found that we have fleas (we think)! I like to think I have strong will power, but when two of the largest flea bites start itching in the middle of the night, I´d like to see even the most war hardened, prison camp surviving soul resist the temptation to scratch. There are many things that are blissful, but on the top of the list is scratching a penny sized flea bite. We made it in time to meet Kevin (Tina´s PDA intensive hubby for those who don't know). I must say he was a welcome addition to the group. I was complemented by a very efficient and toothless airport attendant saying I was pretty, and he hoped Kevin didn't mind him telling me so. As if Kevin was the most affected person by this comment. I fear airport attendant man may have been my knight in shining armor, but I guess I will never know. We flew out to Cusco from there. Cusco may be one of the coolest cities we have been in. While a little touristy, it is very safe and managable. Our hostal was nice, though I must admit I was a little disappointed (and thrown off) when I discovered our toilet had no seat. But I survived. We spent the first day making plans for the rest of the week, and did some serious shopping. They have some awesome deals and awesome wares in Cusco; I did not come away empty handed (though I am curious how all the shit I bought will get home with me). The following day we went to Machu Picchu. For those who are planning to travel abroad in the near future... GO THERE. It was great! Magnificent even. To think it was constructed so long ago and with none of the technologies of today....breathtaking. The next day we hung around Cusco, saw some creepy religous paintings in churchs, and some more local Incan ruins. We ate alpaca, which might be the best meat ever. We also saw a child, bum exposed, pissing in a gutter while being proped up by her mom. After our time in Cusco came to an end, we headed to Puno, which consisted of a 7 hour bus ride with no toilet! Now, those who know me, know my bladder and know that it doesn't hold much. Between my brain telling me I need to go, and the bumpy, half cracked asphault, half boulder road reminding me how much it hurts that I have to go, it wasn't a pleasant trip. In fact, I am fairly certain that I contracted herpes from one of the toilets at a bathroom stop that was made. This was accompanied by the old man who needed to read aloud to himself sitting behind me and the oujii board horror movie they showed in the dark. I was glad to arrive in Puno. Puno itself is on Lake Titicaca, so the following afternoon, we hoped on a boat and set out to the floating islands. They are these islands that are about 3 meters deep and are made of reeds and literally, they float. They were created by the Uros people to escape the Incas. At many points walking around these islands, I felt as though I would fall through. Another highlight of this trip was when we looked over at Kevin on the boat, and all these Peruvian people were having their picture taken with him. In fact throughout my time in Puno, and Peru in general, I found myself staring at the oddly dressed people (the women wear brightly colored skirts, top hats, long braids and carry their kids on their back). But as weird as I thought they looked, I apparently made an even weirder impression on the children who as they passed me holding their parent´s hand would stare and shout with glee ¨look! A gringa!¨. And I thought I blended in. I guess my blond hair, sun burn and fleece jacket gave me away. Or maybe my failing attempts to speak spanish. Anyway, we made our way back to Cusco (same bus, same bathroom situation, same level of enjoyment), stayed a night and headed to the airport today for Lima. Alas, disaster struck at the airport. Poor Kevin lost (or rather threw away) his ticket. Paper tickets are popular, and pricey, and he had to obtain a new one for a not so pleasant price. This included a trip to the airport police station to file a confused police report (confusion on both our part and the police officers). But we made it on the plane, made it to Lima, made it to our hostal and made it to the internet cafe!
So here is where I leave you friends. I hope you have had your fill. I will be home the 5th (Tues.) I am excited to return to many things. Consistently hot showers, drinking water from the faucet, being able to eat vegetable without a groan from my gut, no sleeping sacks, flushing toilet paper, toilet seats, and glorious, warm sleep. That is the short list. But I am also a little sad to leave my adventures behind. In entering the workforce, this may be one of the last times I can take a vacation of this length, so Im glad it was so great. I hope you enjoyed my adventures, and are convulsing and foaming at the mouth with jealousy!
Take Care Friends
Jenny

III. Thoughts on Roosters.

2004-12-20T14:29:00.000-06:00

South American 2003, email III
AHhhh, yet another week concluded south of the border. And what a week it has been. I last left off in Chile, and I now find myself in Guayaquil, Ecuador. It is someplace alright....someplace.
So we arrived here earlier in the week and as usual fought through the gaunlet of taxi drivers offering their services. So aggressive. But we made it to our hostel. And I don't say that in passing. Making it to our hostel was an accomplishment. I swear to god, lane lines in Ecuador mean straddle them and don't look for any other cars around. Really, it is best for me to just close my eyes. Although that is when the nausea sets in. Also. They use the dollar here and things are so cheap! Food, internet, everything cheap! Good for us.
So we decided Guayaquil was a little to crazy for the likes of us gringas, so we set off to the beach. We took a bus to Jipijapa (pronounced hippie hapa) and then changed buses to Puerto Lopez. We checked into a lovely hostel on the beach, made some plans for the next couple of days and relaxed.
The next morn, we went whale watching. We took a boat out to Isla de la Plata, which is called such because either A.) Francis Drake hid some treasure there, or B.) In the moonlight, the coating of bird shit makes it look like silver. I believe the later because bird shit there was. We saw some pretty impressive whales on the way out, took a tour which included sun burn (even though it was overcast!), birds and the aforementioned shit and then had lunch,. On the return, I took a little snorkel. When we arrived back to the mainland, about 40 kids came running to the beach. They brought chairs and water with them...they wanted to wash our feet. Then I feel a little hand on my shirt. I turn and this little boy says "JENNY!" I had spoken with him earlier and apparently, unbeknownst to me, promised he could wash my feet. His name was Julio. He clung to me, I said, I hadn't understood him, he said I promised. And he was just so sweet... "Jennny, Por favor....sientate...." Other kids would latch to me asking the same thing and he'd push them off saying,"shes mine!" All the while Tina had been stung by something and I was trying to give her the key to our room. As I took the key out of my pocket, 10 cents fell out. Julio ran to it, grabbed it, handed it me, I said, "Keep it," and with that he scampered off onto the beach, never to be seen again.
The next day, we went horseback riding. Oh so beautiful, though I must say after three hours, there were certain unmentionable areas that were relatively sore. But I guess thats what you get. But we went by the beach, up into the mountains and along the river. Then we stopped at this gorgeous hotel for lunch. It was a fabulous day.
So I have never had many thoughts on roosters and foul in general. I was pretty indifferent, though I liked to eat them. I never knew much about them or wished them any ill will. After this trip, I can see how slaughtering chickens would be an easy thing to do. Every fucking morning at 4am, 5am, 6am, 7am, 8am, 9am...and all the interminant minutes, they would crow. Right outside our bedrrom. Its like going insane I imagine...they just never stop, and just when you think they have and you are begining to sleep...more crowing. If I had any kind of weapon on me, I would have killed them. Easliy. I thought when I left the hostel this morning, I would be rid of chickens and roosters for the rest of my life...at least for the next few months. But as I get on the bus to go to Guayaquil (a three hour ride) I hear clucking behind me. Then a child walks past me and there is more clucking. There were chickens on the bus with me. At first I thought, "How charming, I am really getting a slice of life in Ecuador...this is the real thing." But after we had a flat tire, there was rooster clucking in the seat behind me and a man spit orange seeds on my sandal clad feet (which is really what did it for me), I thought, I'm not sure I was cut out for the real life of Ecuador. It was something to see. But that's enough for me.

Aside from foul and bus rides, Ecuador has been good to me (and my wallet). The people are generally friendly and the food is good. The fruit is incredible. It was a week well spent.

I have written more than enough. This should be in installments. I head to Peru next. We go to Machu Picchu, Cuzco and Puno (Lake titicaca (insert joke about titi or caca here)). On Monday we pick up tina's man, kevin who is arriving from the states. I officially become third wheel.
Take Care buddies,
Jenny

II. That's Yenny Lynn to you!

2004-12-20T14:19:00.000-06:00

South America 2003, email II

According to several Latinos, Yenny is my new first name, Lynn is my new last name. Sounds more like a porn star to me, but maybe that is why Im so popular here. Well my friends, its time for another update from your beloved. I have been having a great time since last writing you, and I hope to convey this great time in my email. so....

I am currently in the town of Vicuña. It is pleasant, the home of Gabriela Mistrals (the poet). We had a wonderful celebratory lunch for Tina's birthday and have enjoyed our few hours here. But before I tell how we got to this sleepy town, lets go back...back in time.

This past weekend was very relaxing. We spent most of it with my family in Chile. We were staying with my aunt, who was very hospitable, as well as spending time with cousins and Grandma. There probably isn't much I can say about them that would be super interesting to those of you who don't know them. The time with them was interesting in a super way.

So after many days in Santiago, we decided to get the hell out and see some sights of Chile. We decided to go to the North of Chile to the city of San Pedro de Atacama. It was a 20 hour trip via bus. But we splurged and got the salon cama, which has seats that pretty much turn into beds. They even serve meals. This makes it possible to over look their movie selection which includes but is not limited to such titles as Ernest rides again and Carriers. If you haven't heard of these movies, there is a good reason. San Pedro is in the middle of the desert, the driest desert in the world. San Pedro may be one of the coolest towns I have ever been in. They haven't discovered (or if discovered, haven't chosen to utilize) pavement or blacktop of any kind. Everything is dirt, clay, and dust. The houses are all adobe style and awesome. Our hostel was nice, although the 24 hours of hot water was a lie. It is a hippie town with charming restaurants with fires and music everywhere. From this town, we took two tours. The first left at 4am and took us to see the sunrise in the Geysers of Tatio. Awesome but fucking cold. Im serious. Like Chicago in the dead of winter cold. But as soon as the sun rose, it was sweatshirt weather. Before sunrise, it was cold, like 0 degrees Farenheit cold. But the steam from the geysers and the sun was a beautiful expereince. Then we took a tour of Moon Valley or Valle de la Luna. Also very cool. We walked around some other desert mountains before ending up in the Valle de la Luna for sunset. While the sunset wasn't much, the color it created on the mountains was beautiful. After that we got to plunge down the sand dune type thing to our van. Let me say they don't have many roads (any roads) to these places and these mini vans weren't made for off roading, so my ass was sore.

Yesterday we hoped on a bus ( not salon cama this time, semi cama, which is much cheaper and much lesss comfortable, but with the same movie selection). We ended up in La serena this morning. We also ended up with sore throats and colds from either a. inhaling around 3 tons of dust, b. being contaminated by sick cousin, or c. being contaminated by sars infected bus travelers. Tylenol cold has solved most problems. We quickly rented a car and headed east. What is East of La serena you might ask. Well, Cerro Tololo is east of La Serena. It is an observatory about 80 km east. The view from the top was beautiful, and we met some chilean high schoolers who were on a field trip. They all kissed and sang to Tina for her birthday. At least she had some suprises. Then we drove up this super windy dirt road sans guard rails. Thankfully, there weren't many cars. One thing we did learn from this trip, don't tell people you are Canadian if you need to show your US passport.

And that brings us to Vicuña, 15 km east of Tololo. We drive back to La serena tonight and then leave at 1130p (or 23:30) for Santiago, arriving at 6 or 7a. I think sleep shouldn't be a problem. On Monday we leave for Ecuador where we will be meeting family members (that I don't know), whales and horses. I can't wait. Thank you to all of you who wrote me emails. They made me feel so loved. Keep it up. And for those of you who didn't write...well, you've broken my heart and you'll get your comeuppance. But you still have to weeks to rectify the problem. I miss you all, but can't say Im ready to come home just yet...well see after the malaria or yellow fever kicks in.
Take Care
Yenny

I. South American Fun

2004-12-20T14:14:00.000-06:00

Hello Friends!°
First off if you are getting this email, your name has somehow made it onto my group list for travel updates. If you don´t want to receive these updates, delete them, you´re not going to be taken off the list. I must give the obligatory apology for sending group emails. But I know how much you are all missing me, and dying to hear about my adventures, and I just wouldn´t want anyone to miss any details. So I hope you enjoy vicariously through me.

I am in Santiago in Chile right now. Tina (my travel companion) and I arrived early this morning and were shuttled to my aunt´s apartment. I have to say, we are living the life of luxury here. For those who know my family, this is my dad´s side, so the eating will obviously be good. The room I am in has maybe one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. The Andes Mountains look like they are about 100 yards in front of me.

Before Santiago, we were in Costa Rica. We did not see much of the country, but what we did see was gorgeous. San Jose was just so-so, but admittedly we did not explore much of it. We did however take a bus to the beach town of Jaco. The bus was nice except for the vomiting children, but perhaps that is part of the experience. In Jaco, we did a canopy tour. I dare say that this may have been the hightlight of the trip. There are these platforms built high up in the trees in the forest, and there are zip cords connecting them. Then you attach yourself to the zip cord and weeeeeeeeeeeee there you are. It was awesome. Really. Awe-some. I was filled with awe. You can see trees below you, waterfalls, ocean and mountains. It was incredible. Unfortunately, my compatriate lost her camera midway through one of the zip lines...we are still have hope it will be recovered. We then went to the beach. Now, I understand Costa Rica is a warm country. And I understand that I have very very white skin. But is it so wrong of me to want to get a little color, be less of an albino? Apparently yes because I am pretty damn sunburnt right now. I re-applied several times, but god forbid I look like a normal human being for once. The highlights of the sunburn are the purple color on my back and red strip down my forehead ( apparently I can´t apply evenly either). But I will survive. And with Santiago´s golorious 50 degree climate, I should have some time to recover.

So those are the goings on so far. I am having a super time and can´t wait to do more. Future trips include, but are not limited to, the desert and salt flats of Chile in the north, whale watching in Ecuador, Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca in Peru. Im pumped.

Take Care friends, I hope to hear from you sooner than later!
Jenny, traveler extrodinaire

Re-living the past can be fun.

2004-12-20T13:58:00.000-06:00

I have thought a little bit about retroactive postings. I still don't know how I feel about it. On the one hand, who wants to read about things that have happened to me in the past. Probably those of you who are reading this have already heard about the anything worthy of noting again. On the other hand, I like re-thinking these experiences, so you should too. I have emails that I sent to a group of people on my experiences in South America in the summer of 2003. I have ben saving these emails for over a year and I'd like to have a place to display them. So, if you already received these emails once, you can wait for the next couple of postings. Otherwise, I think the following emails (one post for each email (I, II, III, IV)) sum up my trip quite well. So now think back.... back in time to the summer of 2003...of 2003...2003...

The end is near. . .

2004-12-17T15:51:00.000-06:00

So as the year 2004 draws to a close, so to does the project I have been working for the past year. It has been wonderful. I have learned quiet a bit, but more importantly, I have made some truly cool friends. We had our last meeting/party today. We watched Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, ate indian food, and pigged out on dessert. There were samosas, red velvet cake, and jewel brand cake cookies. What more could a fat girl ask for. I will miss everyone but Anneeth because apparently blogging was SO last year. Whatever. Stacey is on to bigger and better things, Lara is moving to my former school district U-46, Jackie...well, jackie will still be around as will Kevin... and Nik...and Tom...and Nitima (Damn people, leave already. You are making my farewell less heart-wrenching). It is nice to know I will still have a job. Anyway, Project 1 staff, I will miss you all, but since I know you have grown attached to me like a tick is attached to a dog (yes I am a dog in this equation, but at least I am not a tick, suckers!) I am expecting many phone calls. I'll be waiting.

2004-12-17T08:19:00.000-06:00

Welcome to my world! MWAHH