Monday, August 16, 2010

did your friend just throw up?

So never ever ever start your night with all you can eat and drink, sushi and saki bombs! You think I am kidding, but seriously, take my word for it. Once I started my night out like that at Sushi O Sushi in Lincoln Park.. When we got to the next bar, I proceeded to buy and take a Jim Beam shot - needless to say, it didn't end there. That shot made me throw up on the bar in front of a Saturday night crowd, and wipe it up with my shirt. Yes... my own shirt.  I mean you cant make this shit up. I legit wiped it up with my shirt and quickly proceded to the ladies room to figure out my life. I ended up throwing out my shirt out in order to save my rep. The best part, no one noticed. Seriously, no one. WHO DOESNT SEE THIS SHIT!!! I am happy no one did because an hour later my best friend got kicked out for standing on a stool... yup, once again I win the drunk game.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

A new type of "nugget"..

My life long dreams of making a career out of reception were crushed today… After only 3 short weeks of the mindless duties, I have officially been promoted. That’s right, promoted - three weeks. Thanks to my hard work and ‘impeccable’ reputation, the main executive assistant in our office chose me to be her new second in command, accomplice, her right hand ma--- woman if you will. I will be leaving behind the world of phones, mail, and ordering for a hopefully more exciting life of scheduling, shopping and party planning. Ohhh wait, I am forgetting one big portion of my new position, bitch. I am in every way, shape, and form at the beck and call of my employer. Sure, that is how most boss employee relationship goes. The boss rules, and the employee drools… right? Not exactly. These are not just any employers. In fact, they are the Bill Gates’ of the options trading universe. With that said, I am up for the challenge. I plan to become the best dang personal assistant there ever was. Hey who knows, if I do well here… LA here I come!! I’m sure Chelsea Handler would love me to be her next Chewy. I would make a cute “lil’ nugget.”

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

I met the love of my life…

His name is Mitch, Mitch Rapp, and he is the love of my life. Okay okay, so I’ve never actually met him, but I sure feel like I have.  Rapp is the main character of novelist Vince Flynn’s award winning political thrillers. Now I want to start by enlightening you all, I am by no means a big reader. In fact there are only a handful of books that I have conquered without a teachers bearing. Luckily, while browsing a garage sale at the beginning of last summer, I came upon a box of weathered books. At the top of the pile was a white paperback with an image of a burning American flag embossed on the cover. Reading the back description drew me to the point of a teenage girl at the B-96 Bash. I was immediately wired to the passion and truth that this novel seemed to contain.

Now reading Flynn’s 4th novel out of the 11 book series, I have become quite attached to not only the stories, but also to the lead Mitch Rapp. Mitch is a brawny, intelligent, and slightly arrogant CIA operative. He heads the Orion team, a secret sect of the CIA that deals with international terrorist threats by use of “illegal” force. In the novel, as in real life, all the good catches are taken. Mitch is head over heels in love with the beautiful white house press member, Anna Rielly, who he had the pleasure of saving from a Whitehouse terrorist attack in the second novel. Aka. Even if Rapp weren’t a fictional character, I would have zero chance in hell against the super model type of Ms. Rielly.

All in all, my big question is, where can I find one of these men? Do I need to move to D.C? Maybe write up some terrorist threats on my own? I mean, I doubt the Rapps of the world frequent McFadden’s or Sidebar on their non-existent days off. Please help; I really do want a cold-hearted Mitch of my own ;)

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Snuggie!

“Snuggies are much more useful if you place your legs through the arm holes!”

GUESS WHAT?!?! Last night I won a… a, a, A SNUGGIE!!! Actually it was a Snuggie Deluxe, but that makes the news twice as awesome. Every Tuesday night for the past handful of weeks a group of friends and I have attended Trivial Night at State Bar & Grill on Webster. And every Tuesday night we are disappointed by our underperformance throughout the Trivia round, and by our lack of luck in the end of night raffle. Until now! This past Tuesday my best friend did it! In her hand she held the token, the crown, the golden ticket if you will. As with the other nights we waited in suspense as the numbers were called… 2-2-5-9-6-0----5!!! Up jumped Jackie, “I won!” Unfortunately for her, aka me, all she had won was a measly $10 iTunes gift card. This card could never compare to the warmth and comfort that comes with owning a Sunggie blanket, which is one of the many other raffle giveaways. I devised a plan. We would trade up! So I grabbed the gift card, walked straight over to the winning table, and the following conversation ensued…

Me: (with a sly yet sleazy grin on my face) “Have you ever heard of the show Lets Make a Deal?”

Poor Sucker Girl: “ummm, yea.”

Me: “Well, I have a $10 iTunes gift card. What do you have?”

Poor Sucker Girl: “uhh, a Snuggie?”

Me: “Exactly!”

As I uttered the last syllable, the valuable Snuggie Deluxe was simply handed over to me as if it was a piece of trash, and I passed along the tunes card without a flinch. I smiled in triumph, for we were now the proud owners of a tremendous ocean blue Snuggie! I now have everything a girl could ever ask for…. Except a Sham wOw of course.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

New jobbbb...

Now that I am steps away from graduation, I have finally decided what I want to do with the rest of my life!!!! I want to be a receptionist… wellll. Okay, you got me, I don’t want to be a receptionist forever, but it is the new gig my long time employer just placed me in, and to tell the truth it isn’t all that bad. I mean, I don’t expect young girls to start running around telling people that “when they grow up” they want to be receptionists, but I find it to be a quite satisfying position for a newly graduated 22 year old. My basic responsibilities include answering the phone, ordering snacks/supplies, as well as accepting sending and sorting mail, all of which most minimally trained monkeys hold the ability to do. Other tasks of mine consist of answering questions, greeting guests, completing daily tasks for the firm partners, all while also carrying on with my old duties of being a media intern. After this explanation it is easy to see that my new job cannot be encapsulated by the simple yet tedious description “receptionist.” Instead, much more is needed. This brought me to the idea that I need to create a new title for the many a girls that are bound to sit in my position throughout the years. Many words came to mind including “bestest helper ever,” “hottest girl in the office,” even “do you need something?” made the list. I finally came to the conclusion that my job title should be CEO, but was rudely informed that that name had already been issued. All in all the simple title of receptionist will have to stick for the time being. At least until the next flighty girl falls into my rolly chair, or until CEO opens up.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Graduation...

As my undergraduate graduation draws nearer, I am starting to have doubts on the “point” of college. Yes, everyone says that going to a university prepares us for our future, prepares us for a “career”, but does it? With Graduation less than a month away, I must ask myself if the 4 years, $90K plus, and the major mistreatment of my liver was all worth it? Without the handful of valuable internships I’ve completed, would I really be ready to prevail in the workforce? Especially in these times of distress, does college enable you to succeed in your chosen profession? Let alone land a job!
Luckily I have landed a fulltime position with the firm that presented me with a lucrative internship 2 years ago, but what about everyone else? What about those who aced college, and can’t find a thing to show for it but a piece of fancy diploma paper? Do they suck it up and move back in with their parents? Which in many cases, including mine, is not an option. Do they sink deeper and deeper into debt by “investing” in graduate school? Yes, these are both options, but leave no time to solidify the fact that you belong in the profession that, in most cases, was selected during your first year in school.
I think the best answer to this dilemma is that, in reality, college isn’t intended to prepare you for a career, job, or success. College is intended to prepare you for the ins and outs of life. College excites, stresses, ruins, completes, irritates, pleases, and most of all strengthens an individual in ways that can only be described as unique. It allows us all a chance to bust out of our comfort zone and, as cliché as it sounds, be the best we can be. It also allows us to drink as much beer as a single body can handle, while simultaneously hooking up with complete strangers, but that is a different story.
Congratulations and most of all good luck to all of my fellow grads… You’ll need it! 

Thursday, April 1, 2010

What? I like to pole dance...

People who know me, know I ‘totes loves’ country music. These people also know that my second love is the city of Chicago. As a tribute to my ‘not so second place’ city, I would like to dedicate this new rendition of Miley Cyrus’ Party in the USA to the windy city! Enjoy J

I hopped off the plane at ORD
with a dream and a bag of weed.
Welcome to the land of ball and booze
hell yeah I’m gunna fit in.

Jumped in the cab here I am for the first time.
Look to my right and see the Wrigley field sign.
This is all so crazy, everybody seems so normal
My tummy’s turnin’ and I’m feelin’ kinda hungry
Too much great food and I'm starving.
That’s when the taxi man turned on the radio

And the Kanye song was on
And the Kanye song was on
And the Kanye song was on

CHORUS:
So I put my hands up
They're playing my song
The butterflies fly away
Noddin' my head like yeah
Moving my hips like yeah
I got my hands up
They're playin’ my song
I know I'm gonna be ok
Yeah, It's a party in the USA
Yeah, It's a party in the USA

Get to the bar in my checker cab
Everybody's lookin’ at that girl
Like “who’s that chick, that’s rockin' Knicks?
She’s gotta be from out of town”

So fun with my girls not around me
This is definitely a Chicago party
Cause' all I see are stilletos
I guess I got the right memo
My tummys turnin cause I'm feelin like I love it
Zero pressure and I’m not nervous
That's when the D.J. dropped my favorite tune
And Fall out boy was on
And Fall out boy was on
And Fall out boy was on

CHORUS

Feel like ditching that last flight ( that last flight)
Stay in this chill town tonight (town tonight)
Something pulls me everytime (everytime)
The DJ plays my song and I feel so right!

CHORUS

Yeah (Yeah), It's a party in the USA
Yeah (hahaha), It's a party in the USA (Party in the USA!)

Monday, March 29, 2010

Zombieland...


This past weekend, while in a state of inebriation, I had the pleasure of watching the comical yet slightly disturbing movie, Zombieland. The movie is based on a young man from Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg) trying to make his way back to Ohio with the “help” of a gun slinging redneck (Woody Harrelson) from Tallahassee. Throughout the film Columbus enlightens us to a list of rules he has devised in order to survive Zombieland. The entire list of 33 regulations is not provided during the movie, but the audience does receive upwards of 17 statutes. These include #1: Cardio, #4 Wear Seatbelts, #21: Avoid Strip Clubs, #31: Check the Backseat, and, a personal favorite, #8: Get a Kickass Partner, hence the presence of Tallahassee. Below is the full list offered up throughout the film…

#1.Cardio #2.Double Tap #3.Beware of Bathrooms #4.Wear Seatbelts #6.Cast Iron Skillet #7.Travel Light #8.Get a Kickass Partner #12.Bounty Paper Towels #15.Bowling Ball #17.(Don’t) be a Hero #18.Limber Up #21.Avoid Strip Clubs #22.When in Doubt, Know Your Way Out #29.The Buddy System #31.Check the Back Seat #32.Enjoy the Little Things #33.Swiss Army Knife

From the beginning of the movie I felt the urge to make my own list of rules. Not necessarily a list on how to survive in a world that has been completely overrun by flesh eating monsters, but possibly some other social setting that causes angst for citizens of our great world. I then realized that I had a duty to the universe. A duty to share what I have learned during the endless hours I spend ‘out.’ Below is my list of rules for surviving various bars, saloons, pubs and clubs …

#1. Cardio – dance like its Madonna’s last show, and be prepared to run away from the guy who bought you that first tequila shot.
#2. Double Tap – never attend a bar that doesn’t have at least a double tap. No double tap, no beer.
#3. Beware of Bathrooms – do not touch ANYTHING in the bathrooms. Don’t be fooled. Even a powder room that seems up to sanitary standards probably isn’t. Think quickies, monthly gifts, and the ever-present vom monster.
#4. Wear Jeans – a skirt might seem like a good idea when looking in the mirror, but it’ll have quite a different look when you are dancing atop the bar after that 3rd tequila shot.
#6. Cast Iron Skillet – food is a necessity. The more you eat the easier it will be in the morning. Note: McDonald’s is your best friend.
#7. Travel Light – obvi, just a clutch gal. You do not need a bundle of powder or lipstick. Guys get ‘beer goggles’ for a reason. Make the best of it!
#8. Get a Kickass Partner – everyone needs a good wingman… wingwomen.
#12. Bounty Paper Towels – vodka tonics shattered across the dance floor won’t help your moves, promise. (see rule #1)
#15. Bowling Ball – true, betting is a great form of flirting. However, if you bring a personal ball to Lucky Strike, you will definitely be ‘striking’ out.
#17. (Don’t) be a Hero – Guys, fighting over a girl is déclassé. Win her heart with shots of liquor, not left hooks to a strangers jaw.
#18. Limber Up – get ready for a marathon of a night. Drinking, dancing, screaming, fighting, drinking, dancing... night cap ‘wink wink.’ Remember to stretch well in advance.
#21. Avoid Strip Clubs – enough said.
#22. When in Doubt, Know Your Way Out – always have an escape plan. You never know when an ex will corner you. In this case get yourself out first, once safe, contact wingman.
#29. The Buddy System – remember you have a wingman for a reason. They are an unlimited scapegoat. Take advantage, and stay in pairs.
#31. Check the back seat – rookie mistake to leave your phone, purse, coat, even date in the back of a cab. I urge you, check the backseat.
#32. Enjoy the Little Things – shots, wings, fries etc.
#33. Swiss Army Knife – ya never know when you’ll need to snip a stray thread, pluck your eyebrows (beware of rule #3), or give guys wondering hands a true warning.

…By now you have undoubtedly noticed that only 1 of the original rules was changed in order to relate this list to a social drinking environment. I though this was my chance to offer truly uplifting insights into real life situations and help shy singles all over, but it’s done. The list is done. What does that tell us? That night after night we voluntarily step in to a ‘Zombieland’ of sorts for fun? Hey, if the end of the world is going to be like one giant bar party… count me in! Shots. shots. shots. shots.

Don’t talk to strangers…

We are all told from a young age not to talk to and in most cases to stay away from strangers. I understand that this is a necessary rule for children, due to their vulnerability and seemingly gullibility, but I believe there needs to be some kind of age limit set on this childhood regulation. Say, once a person hits, I don’t know 18, the stranger rule is null and void. Living on my own for the past 4 years, I have learned that some of the greatest people I come in contact with are in fact complete strangers at first. Thankfully, I have a strong aptitude for judging who I should and shouldn’t chat with, but I find that many people my age are uneasy about talking to any stranger whatsoever.


This thought came to mind when my roommate and I were discussing our genuine ability to make friends with anyone. Yeah yeah, I know it sounds cliché, “friends with everyone,” but it is true! Without fail each and every time we venture out for a day or night on the town, we wind up making friends with some unsuspecting bartender, waitress, house siding salesman, business owner, possible rap artists etc. Just Last Thursday while dinning at Sunda Sushi downtown, we were introduced to Billy Dec, the owner and manager of not only Sunda, but various other bars and eateries around Chicago. That same night we had the honor of meeting Chicago’s ex-cornerback Jerry Azumah along with an older man who looked remarkably similar to Sting. (Which is a great story in and of itself). This is just one example, but this type of occurrence happens each weekend. It is as if we are magnets for interesting sometimes well-known people. With that said, we also know the entire staff and management of Moe’s Cantina, John Barleycorn Wrigleyville, River Shannon’s Pub, and 6 Degrees Bar in Bucktown. Meaning, this “friends with everyone” theory could be in part due to our slight alcohol intake issue. I’ll let you decide for yourself…

Friday, March 19, 2010

NCAA March Melodrama…

Madness, Mayhem, or Melodrama
Currently, I find myself completely consumed by brackets, baskets, and … balls? (Get your minds out of the gutter!) The NCAA championship tournament, which takes place over the period of 2-3 weeks each spring, is the Christmas morning for avid gamblers. There are only a select number of days each year which allow them to evade the ever present “addict” label. ie. The Kentucky Derby, Super Bowl, Indy 500, etc. March Madness also opens the floor to rare gamblers such as myself to place a few wagers here and there. I mean, with a friendly work pool lurking around every corner it is no wonder why this tournament brings out the Vegas in us all.

One of the biggest hazards of MM tends to be the ever likely “upset.” This is a common occurrence due to the presence of extreme pressure, basketballs fast paced nature, and the long debated, completely unperfected, ranking system. This tends to end in an underdog winning it all while running off the confidence fumes of a major upset early in the competition.

Personally I don’t take too fondly of this whole ‘lowest ranked team’ can possibly win the whole shebang. Cinderella is a “fairytale” for a reason; it’s not supposed to actually happen. However, it is relieving that since the tournament was created in 1939, no #1 ranked team has ever lost to a #16 team in opening round play. If that ever happens, I personally give anyone the permission to throw me off the Sears :cough: Willis :cough: Tower Sky Deck.

While we all wait on the edge of our seats, and in some cases fold of our wallets, for April 5th to roll around. Good luck to everyone risking a coin or two (or100K) on the coming games. Don’t worry; I’m sure you will be able to make next month’s mortgage payment with or without your NCAA winnings. And hey, if you can’t, I hear good old Uncle Sam is giving hand outs nowadays.

Note: I have Syracuse to win it all with a tie breaker of 133. Please, don’t laugh when I lose my $25 bucks. On the other hand, in the rare case that I prevail, don’t be bitter when I collect my winnings. : )

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Will the real St. Patty please stand up…

Walking into work today wearing an appropriately festive green and white plaid blouse, I realized I was missing a large chunk of Celtic knowledge. Aside from the green beer, corned beef & cabbage, and shamrock décor festivities of St. Patrick’s Day, I had no awareness to the actual facts behind this passionate celebration. Since I was little I have merrily commemorated this day by wearing green, plucking clovers, and in more recent times consuming my fair share of alcoholic beverages. I have even attended the dying of the Chicago river numerous times, but never did I stop to ask myself Who is Saint Patrick?, Why was he important?, What is his association with Ireland? Per usual, I must have been too consumed (wasted) with the excitement of the day, and not so much with the context. So today, I read up on this very green holiday.


Long story short St. Patrick’s Day is an originally Catholic celebration of the patron saint of Ireland. Born into a very wealthy and godly British family around the 5th century, Patrick had long standing family connections to the Catholic Church. At the age of 16 he was captured and enslaved in Ireland. Able to flee captivity, he returned to Britian where he began his mission toward priesthood. Eventually he was called back to Ireland to lead the Irish, both rich and poor into a Catholic lifestyle. It is my guess that he succeeded considering the million and two times I have heard people reffered to as “Irish-Catholic” in my great city of Chicago.

The shamrock, rather than the “lucky” four-leaf clover, graces March 17th as a beloved symbol because Patrick used it as a tool to teach the idea of Holy Trinity to the Irish people. One leaf each for the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Green is also associated with St. Patrick due to the many shades of green that grace clovers, as well as the ribbons wore in the 17th century to celebrate his death.

I hope you feel at least one Leprechaun step more informed after reading this, I know I do. Now go out there and celebrate the day of St. Patrick. As the saying goes “Patty’s Day- Everyone’s Irish on March 17th.”

Monday, March 15, 2010

Gaga googoo…


Walking into my 3rd floor apartment this afternoon, I almost ralphed as my eyes were drawn to the 14 Cosmopolitan magazines flaunted across my coffee table. Month after month, without fail my roommate or I dish out the $4.29 for this 220-page packet of chick. I mean, God forbid we have a subscription to this trash.  Really, it is much less humiliating to continuously purchase each edition at one of the 20ish CVS locations in the loop, rather than having it delivered to our front door. Doubtful.

Each months issue is altered just enough from the one prior, to convince us that we can in no way live without it. The headlining celebrity alone, be it Kim Kardashian, Megan Fox, or Lindsay Lohan (circa April 2006), manipulates us to drool at the pure thought of reading its contents.  I must say my favorite part is the bold sexual headline that graces each new cover. “The sex article we can’t describe here”, “100% Hotter Sex”, or my personal favorite, “What he’s thinking during sex.” When did we become such slores? Why do we feel the need to read through endless oral sex tips, embarrassing moments, and diets clues? It must be that we find our own lives inadequate to those of the featured beauties. Which is hard to believe considering what has occurred in the last handful of weekend’s… blackouts, plan
B, broken ribs, mysterious receipts…

That said, the newest issue of this women’s handbook, features a barley clad Lady Gaga. Its contents include the usual facts, figures, and tools to improve our femininity and sexual appeal. Thanks, but no thanks. I rather not take tips from Gaga on how to ‘attract’ men, let alone ‘dress for success.’ Remember she did just poison Tyrese with Beyonce’s ‘honey’ in her Telephone video, and wore what looked like a lace crawfish to the VMA’s. Trust me, I rather take dating advice from gold medal mother Dina Lohan.

With a dream and my cardigan…

Per usual, my roommate and I were running amuck in Wrigleyville this weekend to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day when the unbelievable happened. As we turned to continue up the stairs from the basement bathrooms of Casey Moran’s, a seemingly ‘normal’ guy yelled, “Look it’s Miley Cyrus!” and pointed in our direction. Completely bewildered, we both immediately looked behind us figuring that there was no chance in hell that he was talking about one of us. It turns out, he was. This non-attractive definitely ineligible bachelor was indeed referring to me, as Miley Cyrus, the 17 year old ex Disney Channel/Hannah Montana star and daughter of Billy Ray. Let it be known that aside from the long dark brunette hair, there is a very limited physical resemblance between janky toothed Cyrus and me. Also, she is obviously under the legal drinking age of 21. I mean I know they do things a little different in Tennessee, but they do not allow 17 year olds into bars, especially on holiday weekends. That aside, what was this guy thinking?!? I have come up with two possible answers to what could have been running through his Styrofoam ball of a head. First, maybe he thought I idolized her, and that referring to me as the mighty Cyrus would give him a one way ticket into my pants? Doubtful, yet believable from a twenty-something skeeze-ball at Casey’s. Second, he might have been hallucinating due to all of the bright green t-shirts, Mardi Gras beads, and beer that he actually believed I was the one and only Nashville teen star. Either way, I guess I will take it as a complement, and remember to dye my hair back light ASAP.

Green Beer Day Chicago...

Yes, here in Chicago, along with most other towns in the USA, we celebrate the remarkable holiday of St. Patrick’s Day by binge drinking on the Saturday before. It has become a favorite day to many city dwellers of all ages, and is regarded a time to let loose, wear green, and make-out with random strangers. (you people know who you are) I was appalled when the @drinktown twitter feed, dedicated to highlighting phenomenal drink and food specials around town, posted a tweet stating, “A lot of people in Chicago don’t realize that today IS NOT St. Patrick’s Day- Saturday is just a convenient day for a parade in Chicago.” Like, you think we don’t realize that?!? Of course we all know that Wednesday the 17th is truly the Celtic holiday, but who can consume gallons upon gallons of green beer on a Wednesday? Let alone the buckets of Irish Car-Bombs that are continuously handed around. I mean seriously, just because we play raging alcoholics on the weekends, doesn’t mean that we don’t know how to flip on the respectable adult light Monday through Friday afternoon. Plus, it would be quite suspicious if nearly 3 million people all called out of work on Wednesday, and happened to wind up nursing their “sickness” at the local Irish Pub… With that said, I will be calling out of work on Wednesday to commemorate my Irish heritage one more time and shove it to @drinktown. :P Happy Patty’s Day

Friday, March 12, 2010

True, Kind, and/or Necessary…

Monday, while deep in office chit chat, a coworker of mine stated, “my mother used to quote MLK, ‘do not speak unless what you plan to say is true, kind, and necessary’.” Now, four days later, this statement continues to perplex me. First of all, I am pretty sure that in and of itself this statement breaks the above rules. I mean, it is debatably true, hardly necessary, and, depending on the tone, definitely not kind. Secondly, if anyone I knew, have met, or once passed on the street followed this rule, they might speak once a week, at best. (Hell, I might take some of them up on that if they cared to offer) In reality we all, myself DEFINITLY included, say things just for the heck of it sometimes. Take a group of friends on a Friday night. Should they be forced to sit in silence until one of them comes up with a true, kind, and necessary story to tell? Or do they just need to be drunk enough for no one to notice?


As much as I wish I had the power to hold back my sardine comments at times, daily banter would get rather boring if we simply stuck to this dim-witted rule.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Peace, yo…

“Yeah. Peace, as in your middle and index finger!”

While partaking in what has become a bi-weekly wine and movie night, my roommate began to scuffle with her long-distance boyfriend over BBM. (Blackberry Messenger, for all you iPiece “of crap”users) The topic of this disagreement is not particularly important, but the way in which the conversation ended surely takes the cake. After seemingly being ignored my roommate decided to end the conversation; the nightcap went as such…

Roommate: “Fine, Peace”

Boyfriend: “Peace?”

Roommate: “Yeah. Peace, as in your middle and index finger!”

I instantly burst into laughter as my roommate reiterated these words to me in a tone full of satisfaction and pride. Be us three bottles of sweet moscato deep, it wasn’t so much the witty words that caused my hilarity as the tone with which they were stated. The sense of accomplishment in her voice created a snooty air that was surprisingly refreshing.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Rodanthe, or Cancun. Is there a difference?...

“Where are they? It looks like Cancun!”

After popping in the Nights in Rodanthe DVD and struggling through the explanation of Diane Lane’s married life, the camera scanned across a beautiful beach landscape. I then looked to my roommate, knowing damn well the title of the film, and stated, “Where is this movie set? It looks like Cancun!”

Any sane person would realize after staring at the DVD cover that the movie was placed in Rodanthe, a beachy North Carolina town with a knack for hurricane weather. Not I… Sardine. 

Is it in you?…


Mmmm Gatorade. Just the thought of it brings back memories of jammed knuckles, overzealous coaches, and the scent of ice rink locker rooms. Available in any flavor imaginable and more often denoted by the color rather than actual taste, Gatorade is an American staple loved by athletes, couch potatoes, and alcoholics alike. It’s tangy yet tantalizing taste holds the ability to refresh the most exhausted of contestants while also maintaining the unusual ability to be mixed with various forms of hard liquor. That, in and of itself, makes Gatorade a favorite for underage rebels evading the ever present authorities while attending various neighborhood, school, and church social events.


Personally, I believe that Frost Glacier Freeze, aka Ice Blue, is by far the best flavor available. I can also go for the occasional 32 oz Red, Fruit Punch, but when FGF is present it is hard to pass up. The range of tastes includes Original Lemon Lime (green), Frost Riptide Rush (Ice Purple), and Fierce Melon (Orange), along with a whole slew of discontinued flavors that can occasionally be found on Ebay. These discontinued flavors have some fairly exotic names such as Starfruit (Light Green), Midnight Thunder (Black), and even Frost Clear Melon (Clear). Let me be “clear,” I do not in any way, shape, or form recommend buying a discontinued beverage over the internet, but who am I to stop ya.

This glorious brew can also be used to cure a variety of stomach ailments including but not limited to hangovers, stomach flu, food poisoning, and even the occasional motion sickness. With this many uses it is no wonder that people of all ages turn to Gatorade to soothe their parched lips. 

I have yet to mentioned the scores of celebrity athletes that have appeared in G-rade commercials, and well, been fired from them. Ahem, Tiger Woods. As for the rest of you sell outs, Michael Jordan, D. Jeter, and Money Maker Dwayne Wade, thank you for making all those annoying breaks to NCAA games worth it. I also offer my thanks to all of those Florida Gators who lent a hand in the creation of this wondrous beverage. Ohh and one more thing, if you are a Powerade, Vitamin Water, or Propel devotee, shame, shame on you. 

Gawker Express…

Lilo has done it again. The New York Post reported Monday that Lindsay Lohan is suing E*Trade for upwards of $100 million due to the appearance of a “milkaholic” baby named Lindsay in their recent Super Bowl ad.  Now I am a huge advocate of Lilos, but this has gone too far. Give it up girl. Just because you can’t get hired for an E*Trade commercial let alone any other public appearance, doesn’t mean you need to start taking out your anger on toddlers. I mean, continue your legging line. Or better yet, make some pants… and wear them once in a while.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Back to Basics…

This blog originated as a stage to highlight my sardine (ditzy) moments to the public. With that in mind I am going to get back to basics, and provide you with the three consecutive idiocies that managed to leap from my mouth this weekend.

Friday, while deciding on a lunch venue, my coworkers and I were torn between I Dream of Falafel, a Mediterranean wonderland of fried food, and Freshii Salads, a posh create your own salad/wrap joint.  While pondering the two options I added in the argument that I prefer to get Freshii because I don’t trust food from, and I quote, “Falafel-Land” because I don’t even know where that is. This statement was immediately followed by laughter and the rolling of a particular coworker’s eyes. She enjoyed the comment so much that she then proceeded to place it on her Facebook status. Moral of the story, Falafels are simply a Mediterranean food with no particular country association.

After work a group of people headed to the ever reliable Franklin Tap for a few end of the day cocktails. Once seated, the random conversations spun from one subject to the next, eventually landing on Zima, the discontinued malt liquor often seen in television and movies. The ensuing conversation is seen below:
Coworker #1: Ahhh Zima was so good.
Sardine: Are you kidding? Zima is STILL so good!
Coworker #1: Ummm they discontinued it…
Sardine: No, they still have it on Family Guy!
Coworker #1: Yea, and Family Guy is a cartoon. There are talking dinosaurs on cartoons, but you don’t see any of those strolling around, do ya?

Sunday afternoon while driving back from Wisconsin with a friend, I stopped at a highway oasis for a scrumptious vanilla milkshake. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I found myself convinced that proceeding forward would put us on the wrong side of the highway, and lead us back to WI. With this in mind I said, “Stop, you are going the wrong way!” My friend quickly reminded me that we were at a highway oasis, so there is only one way to go. Doii, I’m such a sardine!

I say Oscars, you say Academy Awards...

I’m going to throw it out there and say I was very pleasantly surprised with the list of Oscar winners from last night’s awards.  With that said, I was even happier with the list of losers! Of course, my favorite loser of the bunch was Up in the Air. A horrible compilation of boring, useless, and utterly stupid, Up in the Air didn’t deserve the 6 plus nominations let alone an actual golden statue. I enjoyed this loss almost as much as the look on the faces of Dreamboat Clooney and his dumb as rocks GF. Simply priceless.  Another proud loser came in the form yet another overrated Tarantino film, Inglorious Bastards. I was more than okay with Christoph Waltz winning for best supporting actor, but if Nazi Mania had won in a more credible category I may have vomited directly through my television and onto some innocent bystander such as Gabourey Sidibe (Precious), or even poor little Zac Efron.  Untill next year, loved the dresses, loved the show, and still despise Kathy Ireland. 

Friday, March 5, 2010

You a rude boy...

Dear Rihanna,

I desperately hope you do not write you own lyrics. If you do, there may be a reasonable explanation for the physical actions taken by a certain ex-boyfriend of yours. :cough: Chris Brown :cough:

Sincerely,
Sardine


As you all know, Chris Brown was arrested last year for brutally assaulting his famous, now ex-girlfriend Rihanna. I have recently come to the realization that although there is no excuse for domestic violence, this particular island beauty may have brought it on herself. Rihannah’s newest song, entitled Rude Boy, albeit catchy, seems to provide insight into Mr. Chris Brown’s anger management issues. The lyrics might as well be quotes out of a “Dominatrix for Dummies” booklet or “A Women’s guide to Acting Manly.” Get is straight RiRi, you are a beautiful and feminine individual. What happened to “Pon de Replay” or “So live your life, ay oh ayy oh ayy oh?”

In case you haven’t heard the newest addition to the Def Jam repertoire, I am prepared to provide you with some lyrical examples from this Rude Boy creation. Take this line, “Do you like it boy… I wa-wa-want, what you wa-wa-want. Give it to me baby. Like boom, boom, boom…” This seems like a demand straight out of a Peter North/Ron Jeremy “film.” Come on people, did we learn nothing from the Eminem lawsuits? Yes, the universe is going to take your lyrics literal! Another example of unwanted lyrics, and a personal favorite, “Babe, if I don't feel it I ain't faking. No, no…,” is in reality quite horrible to say to a man. In my experience of ehhh 3 years give or take, men do not take the issue of inadequacy very easily. If his tricks and treats aren’t doing anything for you FAKE IT, or at least boost his confidence with a few overarching moans.

Now hear me out. I do not mean to rag on the pop power Rihanna holds, but maybe Def Jam should think about the consequences of their lyric choice before they present them to an assault victim. I mean… really now.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Additional poetry...


Gossip

Killer, sweet and slow, irresistible.
Torment and tragedy. Split.
What he’s thinking, then and WOW.
Life & Death, addicted to plastic surgery.
Mind tricks. Cocktails kill you in your sleep.
Over the edge.
Fairytale wedding, quick and dirty.
Gone to far? She wants more.
Exclusive, desperate…
Gossip.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Inglorious bastard… yes singular…

With the Oscar night right around the corner, I finally found a moment to sit down with a warm blanket, pop in Inglorious Bastards, and see what all the fuss is about. Ohh, don’t worry, fuss I did; throughout the ENTIRE film. Maybe it was that I came into the movie with extremely overrated expectations or that I had been patiently waiting to see Quentin’s latest flick since it was in theaters, but either way I was left with a feeling of utter disappointment when the credits rolled. The mix of tedious subtitles, puzzling plotlines, and Brad Pitts over acting caused an explosion of disgust to swell in my stomach. If it weren’t for Mr. Brangelina’s good looks I have a feeling my pointer finger would have ventured to the power button right after the Laurent family massacre.  I’m sorry Tarantino, but you really blew it with this one. Maybe you need to make another zombie flick? 

Saturday, February 13, 2010

I am the world...

So I caved, I bought the “We Are the World 25 for Haiti” song and video combo on iTunes. I have mixed feelings about this revamped version of Michael Jacksons tune, but overall feel that because it is for a good cause, it deserves my thumbs up. With that said here is my view on the production.

The song starts with little Justin Beiber melting our heart like a curious Carebear. Has he even taken a Geography class yet? Does he know where Haiti is? Either way my heart transformed into a puddle of love. The video continues on with various solos, including a performance by Jennifer Hudson’s lips. They should have named it 26 for Haiti and included those smackers.  I do appreciate the strong beauty of her voice, and have to give it to a girl from the Chi. Hudson is followed by the transcending voice of Jennifer Nettles, whom I present with the WAW25H MVP award. Throughout the show her smile and voice shine above the rest. Another solo performance is offered up by the strip-tastic Miley Cyrus. Of course Miley is included in the all-star cast. I mean, she can’t let the Jo Bro’s do anything alone. Speaking of the Jonas Brothers, throughout the video their performance seems truly heartfelt, along those of Wyclef, Mary J, Akon, and the Pussy… Cat Doll.  Another notable mention of the video is the addition of MJ clips. His appearance allows the video to act as a tribute to him as well as to the people of Haiti.

I have three favorite parts of the show. The first was when half of the cast, lead by LL, burst into rap. This unexpected moment forced me to chuckle. I couldn’t take the 10 or so rappers seriously because nearly half of them were wearing sunglasses… indoors!?! I mean the simple donation of those 7 pairs of sunglasses, along with Fergie’s designer duds, would easily equal a large portion of the donation. A second highlight I found was Julianne Hough’s facial expression. Besides one slight smile, her face seems to show utter disinterest every time the camera scans the choir. I wanted to say, “no one is forcing you to contribute JH, go home.” The third highlight goes to Pink for her uplifting solo. I was able to feel the hurt behind her voice, and believe in the words she sang.

All in all, $2.99 is a small price to pay in turn for 6 minutes and 45 seconds of star-studded entertainment. I am left asking one question, "Where's John Mayer?"

God bless the people of Haiti, and lets all pray that J. Beiber aces that next geography test. 

What's in a word... A lot...

Now five weeks into my previously mentioned poetry class, I feel it is time to share with you my progress. Each week I sit in class forced to read my work, and each week I am consumed with the feeling of underachievement. The majority of my classmates seem to be fully enthused with sharing their emotions through the written word, while all I can seem to do is write witty cynicisms. Trying to put my best foot forward, I have come up with a small variety of poems that I feel, with some slight alterations, may be considered poetry. See below…

Stream of Consciousness

Winter is cold, like a running nose or a watering eye. Winter can cross you like an angry friend or bad haircut. Man I need a haircut, almost as bad as I need my warm bed, or a tissue for this dripping nose.
I wish I were at the lake, with all of its kindness. Geneva, the getaway. Relax into a burning sunset and let my mind drown far below the surface.
Is it summer yet?
The thought of summer makes me want ice cream and sunscreen. The smell of sunscreen in summer trumps any other. A bakery in fall, pine needles at Christmas. Sunscreen. I find myself using it in winter, for the feeling, the scent, rather than the protection. My house has a scent you can feel too. A mix of cinnamon, my mother, fresh sheets, and birthdays.

6:02am and on the train again

The mornings commute blue with irritation and odd people
All things are possible in the silence and cold, the day’s book has not been written
How I wish it was different, the mornings city, the mornings light, its sound
If only the sun were up or the smell would change.
On the train once again.

Texting Inspiration: @ u, I LOL

At you, I laugh out loud
The silly jokes, and bedtime whispers
The movie quotes, and dinner mishaps
The crazy antics, and bad karaoke
Your dorky interests, and boyish charm
The love, the laughter, the romance
At you, I laugh out loud

Thursday, January 28, 2010

TLB anyone?...

I must say, Tokyo Lunchbox and Catering may be the most fabulous Chicago lunch joint there ever was. It is safe to say that I venture across Van Buren Street, to get my Spicy Tofu soup and White Rice fix, four out of five days a week. Some would say this simple meal is lackluster, boring, and obviously repetitive, but I say it is delicious and more importantly CHEEP! Only $3.30 for a satisfying yet healthy lunch option, count me in! Nowhere else in this giant square we call “the Loop” can one find an ever so delectable meal that doesn’t, quote on quote, “break the bank.” So to all you Chipotle, Potbelly, Sbarro, or possibly basement cafeteria people, go ahead, take a gander to one of the 7 TLB locations here in this great city, and fill up on some scrumptious eastern cuisine.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

What’s in a word…


So hopefully I am able to become accustomed to this whole poetry thing. Is it a thing? An art? A random assortment of words? I guess it is all of the above. The premiere night of my Poetry Workshop ensued tonight, and I now find myself mystified by a question my professor placed upon us, “What is Poetry?” Considering the last poem I wrote must have been in Creative Writing with Ms. Hecht Junior year of HS, I am not sure my creative muscle with stand up against those of my peers. Along with opening the doors to my artistic ability once again, I witnessed a rift form tonight. A rift between the will and will not’s, the do’s and do not’s, the shall I say, exhibitionists and hermits.  It baffles me that while some people can word vomit for over 10 minutes about what a small poem exercise meant to them, some tremble at the thought of reciting their personal thoughts. It gives me a whole new definition to the words shy, embarrassed, or even withdrawn.  

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Tatt, tatt, tatt it up…

The recent addition to my wrist has given me a new appreciation for those individuals whom cover 90% of their body in ink. I now have two tattoos. One placed behind my right ear, and one on my left wrist. Be it three years ago, I hardly remember felling any discomfort by the etching of a 1 in² heart behind my ear. Although last Sunday, my newest tribute to my father happened to cause me a much elevated pain level as it is located on a part of my body with little to no padding. This pain made me think about how it must feel to ink up in major ways, ways that require numerous sittings to finish. Ekkkk. I’d say it is safe to assume that the pain level is equal to somewhere between launching face first into a speeding windshield and being continuously body slammed by The Hulk Hogan. Hey, no pain no game.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Butter my butt...

Along with a hermit crab named Jet Jackson, whose shell is painted with a Batman emblem, my wondrous roommate gifted me a “Butter My Butt and Call Me a Biscuit” calendar. The magnetic calendar that now sits to the right of my computer consists of a county saying for each day of 2010. One would think that these quotes might make some sort of sense to an average city girl like me, but no dice. Reading ahead, I have found that many of the Hicksville sayings would not even be comprehendible by a rural Billiejoe Schmo who grew up in Cut Off, Louisiana or the cornfields of Indiana. To ring in the New Year, this calendar states “It’s time for all of us to put on the dog.” WTF?!?! Who in the eff would ever say that? I will undoubtedly continue to be baffled by this calendar for the remaining 361 days of ’10… I wish myself good luck.