Losing Control of My Inner Monologue

25 July 2006

I'm Such a Joiner

I have held health club memberships at just about every place I could in the Chicagoland area over the course of the past 10 years. In my search for the perfect gym- in close proximity to my residence (which has changed frequently in 10 years) to ensure I go as frequently as possible- I have learned what I like and what I dislike. I've seen and experienced it all, and now with my latest move it was time for me to change gyms again.

Sure, there are Bally's everywhere (my current health club of choice), but the closest one to my new abode is 5 miles -- which doesn't seem far, but try coming home from work (including the approximately 45 minute train ride), gathering the gumption to get into a car and sit in rush hour traffic to make it to the uber-crowded Place of Sweat. Ugh. No thanks. I'm a wimp when it comes to stuff like that. My waistline is evidence of the fact that I don't have the smallest desire to stick to the above routine.

So, after years of friends raving about Curves, I joined them today. There is something about a gym within walking distance from me (3 blocks from home, 1 block from the train) and one that touts 30 minute workouts that screams "This is the place for me!"

We shall see how this all plays out. I'm so beyond the point of being excited about a new gym, but I will admit that I'm happy about getting back into a workout routine (yes, I'm one of those sick people that actually enjoys working out once I have an established routine) and having no excuse to not follow it.

16 July 2006

Weekend Update

Baking, cooking, and general domesic duties took up most of my day off as well as Saturday morning. I'm not yet a pro at any of this, but I enjoy it more than I let on and think I'm coming along nicely in this arena.

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Mom and I did Friday lunch at Pompeii (mmm...YUM) and saw "The Devil Wears Prada". The movie was good; not great, but entertaining enough. Did I ever mention how unimpressed I am with Anne Hathaway? She wasn't really at all what I pictured the character of Andrea Sachs to be like. But I muddled past that because of the great clothes (supporting characters in themselves). And then there is Meryl Streep. So. Incredibly. Fantastic. Enough said.

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Diva Niece's first birthday party was a riot. SIL booked the club house in their complex. A zillion times nicer than I ever expected. The downside was my brother was outside grilling almost the entire time, so he had to make do with my 101 pictures of the day to catch up on everything that happened.

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Morgan's christening today. Lots 'o family time. I can't remember the last time we all saw each other this much. It had to have been the Christmas season years ago. It's nice, though, and unfortunate it doesn't happen more often seeing as how close many of my cousin's and I are. All this time with so many little kids running around has exhausted me.

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Hot, hot, HOT! I'm surprised I haven't melted. Thank God for A/C. My car isn't doing as well as I am. On the way into the city from Minooka (which is just right of BuFu) last night, the Check light came on. I was right at the Cumberland toll plaza, and meandered past that only to notice it lit up in all its glory. Bright orange and glaring me in the face. So I exited, turned around, and headed home, thinking to myself that whatever the was all lit up couldn't be good.

At every stop light, I thumbed through the owner's manual trying to find a picture of the darn symbol. Finally, I did -- but I have no clue what it means. All it told me was that if the stupid symbol lit up, stop driving and take the car to the nearest dealership. I thought it was the battery melting on me, but Little Bro told me that it's probably the engine and there are millions of reasons why it could be on. Great. So I called on him to play chauffer for me today, and I guess I'll be seeing Juan and his friends from my new repair shop tomorrow. I'm hoping it's a short or something easily fixed.

First the double tire fiasco and then the tirod issue and now this. All in a month's time. Stuff like this happens to me and only me.

The Anti-Betty Crocker

So, baking those cookies didn't quite turn out as expected. And this is entirely my fault. I know that. Never, ever take short-cuts when baking. They never work.

Because I didn't feel like having a bunch of flour and eggs and various other cookie ingredients laying around, taking up precious cabinet space for months on end, I decided to buy the pre-made drop cookie mix. What could be the harm? I could use the "1" cut-out and make a zillion and it would work out great, taste good, and save me loads of time.

Did you know that the drop cookie pre-made dough is super sticky and of a consistency that is not normal for most cookie doughs? Did you know that you can't use cookie cutters on this dough because it will just stick to the inside of the cutter and not even your pinky finger can get it out? Did you know that there is no curse word in existence that is utterly satisfying when you're this frustrated?

This is what the "1"s turned out looking like.



When I saw this first batch, I had a small meltdown. At around this same time, I got an email from my GBF asking about my baking experience. The meltdown got worse. Oh, the pressure! After some venting and what-not with the GBF, I had a creative stroke of genius and hurried to continue to the baking process.

So everything went round after the "1" fiasco, and I glitzed and glammed up the regular-looking cookies with home-made pink icing and sprinkles. So even though all the cookies were ugly naked, they were dolled up to perfection when decorated. Sort of like a drag queen.

The results:



All the kids liked them; many of the adults had more than two; Uncle Larry snuck more than 5. A true success!

14 July 2006

Blogger Ate my Post

So I don't really feel like retyping all of it right now. But here's the gist of the majority of it:

S is fine. The surgery went well. It took two hours longer than expected, and I don't really know why. He tried to explain, but I don't think he even understands. He was also severly doped up.

Can you believe that you can have surgery to remove cancer and they send you home the same day?? That seems utterly and completely wrong!

But, the good news is the surgery went well and he is home recovering. When he is more lucid, I'll check up and ensure all is well. I am most concerned now about what the lab tests say and what the next course of treatment will be and for how long. But for right now, everything seems to be looking good.

Somber Morning

Got some bad news a couple nights ago from my dear friend, S. The doctors have discovered cancer, and they are going in to remove it this morning (actually, the procedure should've just started). Though they think they have caught this at an early enough stage, it is still a life-changing experience.

He is 1.5 months shy of turning 30. He is the healthiest (and best-looking) person I know. He is smart and witty and wise and caring. It just goes to show that this disease does not discriminate. Thankfully, he is in good spirits and has a wonderful mindset going into this operation. He amazes me.

So best wishes to S. With any luck, he has beat this before it even began.

11 July 2006

Countdown to Domesticity

I'm doing a little better on the domestic front. I've managed to cook for myself at least once a week (all other times consist of salad, which is not really cooking so much has chopping), have entertained a handful of times (more use of social skills and uncorking wine bottles than using domestic skills), and have cleaned regularly enough (easy when there aren't a houseful of rooms). However, I would hardly consider myself a domestic goddess by any means. Sure, I know mine is in there somewhere, but it rarely gets the call to throw on it's chef's hat and house-frau attire to come out and play.

Until a few days ago.

I've officially sent the note to my inner domestic goddess that she'll finally be called into the game in a few short days. Diva Niece turns one next week (soooo hard to believe), and SIL is throwing a big bash this Saturday. So naturally, I asked what I could bring.

I asked because I tuly want to help out. But let's face it, 97.5% of the time, the host/hostess thanks you for the kind thoughts but claims to have it all covered. And then you bring a little something and are done. So, I threw out a few suggestions- cookies in the shape of a "1", an appetizer, a side dish, perhaps- and her response, was, "Sure, that'd be great."

Me: To which?

SIL: Which what?

Me: Which item?

SIL: Oh, they all sound good. Do all.

Hmmm... All. This was definitely not what I expected.

Because of the great breadth of food stuffs to buy and things to make, I took Friday off. There is no way it would all get done otherwise.

Tonight I surveyed my galley kitchen. It's hurting for counter tops. I have a few ideas on how to maximize the space to fit my prepping/cooking/baking needs, but I'm fairly certain that the kitchen will be a disaster area come Saturday morning. There is also the possibility that the dining room will be a casuality of this project as well.

I also need to find time to buy Diva Niece the perfect gift. I have a bunch of ideas, but I keep forgetting she's only turning 1 and is just now getting the hang of those chubby little legs taking her places. For as many good ideas as I have, they might be better for Christmas or her next birthday. I usually pride myself on getting her the most perfect thing. She'll never know or remember what I get her, but when she's my age I want her to look back at those baby pictures and say, "Boy my Aunt is fab now, but she was really awesome when I was 1." (Or something to that effect)

I'm letting myself down. I'm a great Aunt. I'm a fun person. But I'll be honest, I have no clue what to get a 1-year-old girl. Any suggestions before I drive myself batty?

Move Your Ass Before I Poke Your Eye Out

Walking in the Loop during rush hour is always an experience. A sea of people all moving against each other, all either in full hustle mode or slow-poking along at their leisure. All at the same time.

Usually, I enjoy being part of this mix. I know, this coming from Ms. Impatient. Funny, isn't it?

I've determined my enjoyment comes from the fact that this sea of people- all towering above me- works to my advantage when getting places. While people of normal height crane their necks to see around, above, or generally past the wall of people around them and must pay careful attention to move at the speed of everyone else lest they step on someone's heels, I can make my way through this crowd with ease. It's all about the bob-and-weave. A technique us vertically-challenged people learned at a young age and work to the hilt in every day situations.

When it's pissing down, though- well, that's a whole other story. Now there are umbrellas to contend with. And when I have the same props as the average person, the bob-and-weave only makes for possible injury to anyone who gets in my way.

What is generally a 7-minute walk to the train took me almost 15 today due to the sea of umbrellas. One would think rain and big puddles and broken umbrellas with the sharp points exposed would make most commuters clip along at a decent pace. Unfortunately, the let's-slow-down-and-pretend-we've-never-seen-rain syndrome that affects many drivers also affects walkers. I don't get it.

As I missed not one but two trains while I was waiting for Mr. McSlowPoke to drag his happy ass across the street, I couldn't help but imagine myself plowing past the people, using my umbrella as a weapon. It was very Ally McBeal-esque, this little vision of mine. It made the bad part of commuting a bit more bearable this evening.

10 July 2006

Mr. Right, Do I Know You?

So I just finished this book on the train home from work. I adored every minute of it. I can't say enough good things about. It's the perfect summer read.

It also made me think: If there is (at least one) someone out there for everyone, do I already know my Mr. Right? And if I do, I hope I haven't been too rude, callous, or mean to him. I hope he hasn't seen me at my prissiest, but I also hope he has laughed with me when I have been at my worst or silliest or strangest.

Truthfully, the story is just a story. A believable one at that, but one that definitely got me thinking. And the more I thought, the more my mind went to that little marriage pact I made with one of my good friends in this crazy moment of weakness. And how maybe there was a little more than just goofiness behind it.

But seeing as I don't believe in reading too much into anything, and being that I don't believe in marriage pacts as anything more than two friends admitting they love each others good qualities and hold them up as the ideal, the standard for which they are holding for their future mate... well, it just made me think of S and miss him -- not in that romantic sort of way because that was some weird fleeting moment in college, but in this he is just a deliciously hot fantabulous man who happens to be my good friend sort of way.

Anyway, if my Mr. Right (or Right Now?) is out there and I do know him, I hope he has grown to accept my love of reality TV, all things plaid (it will never go away), voracious appetite for travel, and mind-in-the-gutter thinking.

09 July 2006

Hello...This is My Past Catching up with Me

Everyone has someone or thing that no matter how hard you try to shake it keeps coming back like a bad rash.

My bad rash is my ex. The one that shows up in the oddest of places at the oddest of times. The one that will occasionally try to spark up conversation every year or so just because. The one that just reecently got married.

I have an email account I rarely check, although three years ago I used it more frequently, and during our first "re-connection" it was the only email address I gave him. It remains the only one he has. I check the account once every few months to retrieve Snapfish deals and clean out spam. I checked it yesterday, and there was an email from him, almost one month old.

Apparently, he had spotted me consuming some libations outside Cactus in mid-June. The bar always reminds me of when he and I first started dating. He worked for a trading firm and I would occasionally go down and meet him and his buddies there.

Him being him, Ex went home and sent a detailed email to me asking if it was indeed me he spied knocking back a few cold ones. Surely, he knew it was, otherwise he wouldn't have sent the email. Just an excuse to reconnect. After all, it's been a year since the last bit of correspondence.

Me being friendly, I responded back that indeed it was and next time, rather than hustle home and send an email, he should wave or stop to say hi. Me thinks he took this as an open invitation to continue correspondence, which I suppose in theory is fine. Catching up is always fun. Of course, I had to share the news with CC, who thinks his popping uip unexpectedly is good fun. She concurs that he is indeed my bad rash.

I am long, long over him and hold no grudges against him. I actually thought he was smart and witty and fun. He was also immature and a fool. I always think I have tucked him away into my past. Ours is a long and storied one. And just when I think he is a roller-coaster-of-emotions memory, he appears again.

Life is funny sometimes.

05 July 2006

I'm a Driving Advertisement

The car trials and tribulations continue. Since getting the new tire, I've heard (and felt) a slight but noticeable little clunk. Usually when I go over bumps, but sometimes when driving below 30 mph on a smooth road. Knowing this car actually had the right front passenger side wheel fall off 3 years ago, I'm naturally a bit paranoid.

My brakes are also a little soft and I need new dashboard lights and could use a look-see on the fluids, so I decided that I could get all of this done in one fell swoop. I normally am quite faithful to the mechanics at the local dealership. So much so that when I didn't live anywhere near it, I would drive to have Mike, Joe and the gang handle my vehicle. However, given my schedule these days, I decided to try someone new. Rafferty had gone to a little place on Oakton that was nice enough and reasonable enough and- this is huge- offer free loaner cars, that I just had to try 'em out.

So, the car is dropped off and hopefully will be back in my possession by tomorrow night. I also get $20 off my total bill because Rafferty recommended me. Nice!

And, the best part of all of this: I am now in possession of the oldest, ugliest sea-green '89 Honda Civic with advertisements for the auto clinic all over the car. I would be embarrassed out of my mind if I didn't think it was so hilariously funny.

04 July 2006

Lamp Shades for Dummies

Anyone who visited my apartment in Oak Park 8 years ago knows I had the most fantastic lamps. Chrome and squiggly with bright white shades that had chrome at the top and bottom. They were sharp.

Several moves and room-mates later, the lamps were in storage but not forgotten. I looked forward to the day when I would be able to place them on my end tables and admire them. The day before the movers came a couple months ago, I dragged the lamps out of the storage room I had been using at the 'rents house and then went in search of the accompanying shades. I had wrapped them lovingly and was looking forward to gingerly unwrapping them and placing them atop the lovely bases once the move was complete.

Said lovingly wrapped shades turned out to be not only terribly dusty and a tad dirty, but there were these awful rust-colored stains all over what once was bright white covering. Ach! How did this happen!? I can't even begin to imagine, and I cannot quite explain how my heart broke over this.

I tried and tried to clean these and nothing worked. They can't even be re-covered or restored in any way. I tossed them both, and decided that I would just have to search for the perfect (new) shades. In the meantime, the lamps are naked and ugly.

My search took me just about everywhere and I was beyond discouraged when I found some lovely linen shades for a reasonable price at Linens 'n Things. I snatched them up, unwrapped one today, and went to place it on the lamp when...oops...Damn. Thing. Won't. Fit. Argh...

Turns out these lamps are...different...as in, your average shade will not fit on the base. Who knew? I mean, I guess I just operated under the misguided notion that lamp shades and your average lamp are entirely compatible. But apparently this is not the case. As evidenced by the fact that I now own two lovely linen lamp shades that have nowhere to rest. Which means not only do I have to return them (and I so hate returning things), but I also need to find the "right" kind of lamp shade. Which is going to make this little search of mine doubly difficult. Leave it to me to have issues with lamp shades.

As with most things in my life, nothing is average and nothing is easy.

And so the hunt goes on...

02 July 2006

Thank Goodness the Plan Fell Through

Overbearing Friend decided it was tactful to send me an email earlier this week with the following verbiage:

I am wondering why I haven’t been invited to your place or even gotten an email to go out..seems summer has brought abt other invites and friends …. let me knw if you want to get together.


When I received the above, I was in Vancouver. I sighed heavily (yes, I'm supposed to be working on that, but no co-worker or superior was around, and I think it was entirely called for on this occasion), and responded with:

I am in Vancouver. Have been and will be for a few more days. Don't feel bad that you haven't heard from me. No one else has either because I am not in town. You can come over whenever I am home, which is so rare I can count the times on both hands.


All of it true.

I was exasperated because she freaked out that she hasn't heard a peep out of me in a couple weeks.

I was exasperated because she reads too much into things.

I was exasperated because I am being judged for having things to occupy my days and nights. (Entirely unfair, btw, as most are planned in advance and/or are must-attend functions)

I was exasperated because even people who I am closer with and/or date do not act like this.

All "was" because I quickly gave up even thinking about it and decided the best way to nip this in the bud was to call this weekend and invite her over and get this all over with.

So I did. And we decided that she would come over tonight. So I planned on this and thought longingly about the Me Time I will not have this weekend. In fact, when was the last time I had any?

The stars must be aligned in my favor. As I was driving home this evening, ensuring I would be there in time for her arrival, I got a call from Overbearing Friend. Apparently, something has come up and she cannot leave her home tonight.

(As an aside, if I had done this to her, I would have probably gotten the third degree and then made to feel bad for ditching out on plans. Shows how completely opposite we are.)

I quickly assured her that this was fine, as my mind flipped into high gear, thinking of all of things I can do now that I finally have some Me Time. After all, plans get canceled all the time, I told her, and we can always reschedule.

I am over the weird email Overbearing Friend sent. Every now and again this happens, and I just chalk it up to her strangeness and part of the reality of being her friend. I am over the rush I put myself through today to ensure that I would be home and a good hostess for my intended visitor. If nothing else, now I have a cleaner home and a stocked fridge.

I am soooo looking forward to my night alone. I have gotten some cleaning/straightening up done, and I am anticipating a good movie for the remainder of the evening. Maybe even more than 5 hours of sleep tonight so I can be really well-rested (for the first time in how long?) tomorrow. Yippeeee!

01 July 2006

Re-Connection

The kick-off to the long holiday weekend came and went and has left me exhausted.

Diva Niece moved in with the 'rents Thursday night so Brother and SIL can go to Jacksonville to look at real estate and generally assess the area and see if he would like accept his primo job offer there and uproot everyone and move. He did tell me (on the down-low) that while at an association convention in Nashville earlier this week, he was approached by a local company who was interested in him. Naturally, I am rooting for that offer to come through, and then Brother and SIL can use this long weekend as a little get-away and nothing more.

After a trying day in the office yesterday (new marketing coordinator, though very sweet and on the ball for most things, fails to have that essential detail-minded quality which means I am constantly returning things to her; how is it I spend more time editing/reviewing her stuff than doing my own work? Sometimes I think it'd be easier for me to do it myself, but then how would she ever learn?), off I went to the 'rents to collect them and Diva Niece so we could meet up with Little Bro and my future-SIL, who had already staked out a rooftop table at a local pub. There's nothing like pub food outside on a beautiful Friday evening. Naturally, Diva Niece was a big ham and had all the tables around us oohing and aahing over her. Perhaps she was a movie star in a former life. She is too social for words.

Upon dropping them off after we dined, Diva Niece pitched a mini-tantrum that I was leaving, which nearly broke my heart. And then I was off to lovely Lisle to meet up with G, my old college buddy and current PAO for the Blue Angels. He's in town for the Eyes to the Skies festival. Not only is this where he first honed his PR skills during a summer break in college, but he's also here on official business, manning a booth for the Blue Angels.

To have G in town is a big treat. The last time I saw him was a year ago when he was jetting through town on his way back from his tour in Bahrain and on his way to his new duty with the BAs. Before that, I think it was right before he, his wife, and kids went off to Bahrain for a couple years. So seeing as we rarely have the opportunity to welcome him back home, it was wonderful that we could get a few friends together and meet up for cocktails, bad dancing [on his part :)], and general catching up. Ok, so a pub in Lisle is no great shakes. But it's all about the company and the fun you make on your own. It's sad I don't live anywhere close to Lisle because the fun was being taken to a whole new level when I had to leave.

Hopefully there will be an oportunity to catch up one more time before he leaves town (and that would mean me going to the festival, I suppose), but if not he will be in town during the Air & Water Show in August, and I will definitely meet up with him and his BA friends then.

Of course, the time between me rolling into bed [early this morning] and having to be up for my early wax appointment was not enough, and I could go for a nap in a big way right now. Not just because of being up so early, but I swung by the 'rents house to break bread (or in this case, eggs) after the aforementioned wax. Diva Niece can be very exhausting.

Napping...wouldn't that be nice...but I fear it will make me more tired than I am now rather than serving its intended purpose as a nice eneregy rejuvenator. So I'll drink loads of caffeine and prep the body for a night of drinking and good food at the 4th annual BBQ a friend is hosting.

Happy long holiday weekend to all!