Thursday, September 27, 2007

Throw The Rock

My parents finally come home tomorrow, or at least I think tomorrow, considering I haven't talked to them since Saturday and their lasseiz-faire attitude towards letting us know just where in the continental US they are right now. It just better not be today because oh lordy, there is cleaning to be done. I did the kitchen pretty spectacularly yesterday, as I was cooking dinner at that (move over Susie Homemaker), and of course not ten minutes after I'm done, my sister comes downstairs to eat and leaves cheese all over my sparkling countertops. I exaggerate greatly, it was more like four shards of shredded cheese but come on. Please take care to wipe off the countertops as to not enrage me greatly. I can't wait for mom to get home so things can get back to normal with her as the enrager, while I am the enragee.

Another great thing about mom and dad coming home? Will can stop begging to stay over at my house. I don't get the attraction anyways, as he has his own condo, plus why would you want to stay the night with someone who makes it pretty obvious she does not want you there. Oh, that's right - it's because I'm a pushover, I almost forgot.

So Green bay is 3-0 and the Bears are 1-2. Great Rex Grossman, great. I think if Lovie hadn't have finally announced he's gonna pull Grossman for Griese next week, the whole city of Chicago would have boycotted. Not really, but we all would have definitley wondered what the fuck else Rex could possibly do as the "last straw". Throw 84 interceptions? Sounds pretty final to me.

If you've never read any Margaret Atwood, you must. Right now. Ms. Mac and I, because we are this awesome, have pretty much started our own Transcontinental Book Club (fuck you Oprah. Just kidding, I love you!) and it's been revolving around Atwood for the past couple weeks. I've only read two of them, The Handmaid's Tale and The Blind Assasin, but loved both of them. After reading The Handmaid's Tale first, I thought maybe all her books would be the same type, but they definitely are not, consisdering again I've only read two. So if you are in a funk of reading shitty books, check out some Maraget Atwood and love Ms. Mac and I later.

Mark Ronson, who's album I raved about in my last post, has done a version of Bob Dylan's song Most Likely You Go Your Way and I'll Go Mine. And it is fantastic. Imagine that, my singer du jour of yesteryear and my singer du jour of the present year, mashing it up together - loves it. And now I can't find it on youTube, but believe me, it's out there. BELIEVE ME.

If Keri doesn't have a tuna casserole waiting for me when I get home, somebody is going back in their cage.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Stop Me If You Think That You've Heard This One Before

Thank you, thank you Chicago Bears, THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT. Well really I'm talking about Devin Hester, but I refuse to bitch about Rex Grossman anymore. He is our quarterback no matter how much you whine so just accept it and shut the fuck up. I have - I'm just wanting for the rest of Chicago to follow en suite.

My friend Maribeth's baby was christened this past Sunday. Or more like her baby made us go to church for 20 minutes before she would let us start drinking and eating - same thing. Her baby is hands down, the cutest baby in the entire world and that fact makes me nervous to have kids. Will my kids not be as cute as her? Will I think my own children are ugly? Will I hold it against my kids that they're ugly, if they are? Will my friends secretly think my baby's ugly? Can I blame them for that? Am I a psycho? Sometimes this question seriously worries me because I have no qualms about calling out an ugly baby. Not to their face or the parents by any means, but hey, I call it like I see it. I'm doomed to have ugly children.

I kind of went on a bender this past week and drank from Tuesday thru Sunday. I wasn't going to drink at all Sunday because I felt shitty from Saturday night, and then I end up drinking from 3:00 pm (football and Pepsi just don't have the same ring) until 2:00 am. Not drinking at all turns into ELEVEN hours of it. I am a disgusting, disgusting person.

My sister and I saw the Frames again last Saturday. I just want that band to follow me around around for the rest of my life providing the soundtrack, is that really too much to ask? While we were at the concert or "Block Party" there were a couple random stands with food and clothes. At this one stand, a lady bought t-shirts at a thrift store and turned them into, unfortunately, tube-tops. But I had to buy one that said, "I still call it Comiskey" because I DO still call it Comiskey, U.S Cellular Park (where the Sox play) is just too ugly and I refuse to use it. So I may never wear this shirt, but it is still the most awesome thing I've ever bought, Charelston Chews notwithstanding.

If I get a boner from nothing else in life, I get one from a guy who smells good. Preferably Hugo Boss because oh my GOD that smell is delicious. Some guy just came into work smelling super good and now his scent is lingering and I am in heaven. Just thought you might all want to know - I don't like to keep good news to myself.

My brother got me a $25 iTunes gift card for my birthday a couple weeks ago. Just because I had the "free" money, I really wanted to spend it right away even though there was nothing that was musically catching my ears at the moment. So on an impulse I buy the new Rilo Kiley album because I love love LOVE the first single, Silver Lining. Yeah, and the rest of the cd blows (sorry Bill, you probably love it). Maybe because I've only listened to it twice, but I can't even bring myself to listen to it again. Then the other cd I bought was The Good, The Bad and the Queen, another one of Damon Albarn's side projects. That cd is actually pretty awesome and I've listened to it a ton, but each time I do, I wish he'd step it up a notch and the music would get faster. But regardless, a great cd and I totally don't regret buying it. Then I waste the last $4 on some stupid compliation cd of new music and only like three of the songs. But then, THEN about five days after I spent the last of the money, I discover a cd that I must buy, there is no other choice, I will die if I can't listen to it RIGHT NOW - Mark Ronson's Versions. It's a bunch of (surprise!) covers, and it doesn't matter whether you know the original or not, you love the songs regardless. He covers everything from Britney Spears to Radiohead to the Kaiser Chiefs to the Smiths. It's the most addicting cd ever, and if you hate it then I hate you. That's just the way it has to be.

My parents have been on vacation since last Tuesday and they could have been gone all my life for how much I miss them and want them to come home right now. That's supposed to mean I wish they would never come home, but now that I re-read it, it sounds like I can't ever move out on my own or something - definitely not the case. It's just, you know, feel free to stay on vacation for as long as you want! Somehow, someway, Keri and I will find a way to manage with out yous guys.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Sarah, Catherine, Salman, Bailey

My sister, her friend Amy and I were at the bar last Thursday, and as we walk in, the guy-girl duo on stage is singing Building a Mystery by Sarah McLachlan. Now I don't ever really want to hear Sarah McLachlan, but in a bar of all places? How does that happen, at one of their practices the girl suggests, "Sarah McLachlan! That'll rev up the crowd!"? And then the guy agrees with her? I can't fathom it. You know what really did rev me up though, the sixty John Mellencamp songs the bar played in between the duo's set. I can't get enough of the Coug.

My friends and I celebrated my other friend Catherine's birthday Wednesday through Saturday last week - I think my liver almost went out on me Sunday morning. My mom said to me at one point, "Why do you have a friend that's so young?" Christ mom, if I was 35, maybe that would be an appropriate questions, but I'm only 23. Give me a break here. But I am getting old. Frig.

I stopped reading the Salman Rushdie book the other day. It got to a point where I was dreading reading it, until I remembered, oh right, it's not required that I finish it, I can use my FREE WILL, return it, and start a book I'm actually interested it. This free will thing, sometimes I forget about it. Now I'm reading The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood and am pleasently pleased as punch pie ( I can't get enough alliteration) by how good it is. And probably because it's like going from reading Homer's the Odyssey to a Babysitter's Club book.

So my parents sell me a car and two days later the tail lights and the dashboard lights are out. Thanks, assholes. But really though, thanks cause you better be paying for it. M & D are leaving on their annual two week vacation next Tuesday, sweeeeetass. Just me, Keri and the dog. Bailey can get pretty crazy sometimes, so it should be a good time. As long as she doesn't roll in her own shit again and I have to try in vain to lure her into the basement sink by putting a step ladder up to the sink and holding a treat above it, all because I refuse to try and pick her up. I know, I still can't believe it didn't work either. Stupid ass dog.

This weekend: The Frames and THE BEARS. God I can't fucking wait.