Now I've Heard Everything

A Screech sex tape? Another ploy for money or just idiot people being careless with home movies? Either way...Ummm...Eeewwwwww. Dude, it's the geek from "Saved by the Bell." No one needs to see that.

Random Friday Things

T-minus one week and counting before my biggest business trip of the year. Hence, my frazzled state this past week. And it will surely be stepped up to a scary level seen only once a year come next week. So far, everything is set up really nicely so I have every reason to believe this will be one giant success.

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Because of aforementioned frazzled state, celebrating CC's (early) birthday last night was extra-fun because I allowed myself to indulge in a few extra cocktails. We went to Uberstein, which is a glammed up version of the Brauhaus. It smelled too clean, was too shiny and new, and way too non-German fest-house including a lack of annoying German drinking songs piped into the bar. But, it had great big steins of yummy German drafts and pretzels as big as my head with a tasty cheddar bier dip on the side. And it really is all about the company. And that was fantastic.

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Because of the crazy week, I am spending my second Friday in a row at home, doing more laundry and just enjoying my home. It's drizzly and perfect for a night in. I don't feel as though I'm missing one last thing.

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Annoyance of the week: My handy-man bar friend has still not returned my email about my linen closet shelf installation. Rafferty's friend's husband is particularly skilled at doing this sort of stuff and rather than pay him in cash I can pay him in beer, which is cheaper than my handy-man friend would cost. I'd like to give the handy-man a chance--after all, he did drop by months ago to check everything out. But really, why leave me hanging? It's a not a big project, it's a job, it's money (cash), and he's able-bodied and committed to doing it. If I don't hear anything this week, I'm calling the friend's husband and asking him to assist. I'm sure things will happen quickly after that.

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Ickyness of the month: There is a dead bird by the front drivers side wheel of my car. The poor thing must have crashed into a first floor window or just pooped out in mid-flight. I have no idea how long it's been there since I am not married to my car. But the Ick Factor is huge. I called the association to alert them to the ickyness and asked them to have the maintenance folks come scrape it off the pavement, but it's still there. After all, this is an outdoor, common area issue and therefore falls in their domain. It's highly possible I have the laziest association ever.

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It's possible I may never need my heat this winter. It's chilly outside and super-hot in the halls and in my condo. No heat is on, but it's toasty in here. I need to crack the windows just to be comfortable. I can only imagine how warm it will be in here when it's really cold outside and the heat is turned on.

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I have spent the better part of the week "acclimating" our new VP to our office culture. Something is a bit wrong with this picture.

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Nice lazy weekend ahead of me. Three-year-old's birthday party tomorrow afternoon (yeah, fun fun), hopefully seeing Diva Niece there or afterwards, and seeing an old college roomie for lunch Sunday. Which means lots of me time in-between. Hooray!

My First Creepy Crawlie

I came home tonight after a productive evening of birthday present shopping for upcoming friend and family celebrations to find an ugly, medium-sized zillion-legger near the baseboard in my kitchen. All I could do was groan audibly, grab a big wad of paper towel, and hope to squish it. I forgot how fast those buggers moved. I tried a few more times, and finally think I got it--or not.

Before you start to think I have this weird bug infestation, I'll tell you that these particular annoyances are indigenous to brick buildings, especially in this area. I saw my first (oddly, not in this particular area) in my first apartment when I was 20. After the first, it's extended network of zillion-legger family and friends moved in. Throughout the 2 years I lived there, it wasn't unheard of to run across one scurrying across the hardwood floors. Yeah, they're disgusting, but it was just a big annoyance.

My second apartment saw a few doing the same thing. I only lived there for a year. The house I rented for a few years, just a few miles from my current abode, saw enough of them as well. My roomie would often scream about one in her room and I would have to be the hero and come kill it. Ick! (I did manage to come up with some creative techniques to snatch the beasts without leaving their innards on the wall. Anything sticky works well.) My last serious boyfriend (also nearby) had a few of them roaming around his house as well.

So really, this isn't anything unusual, per se. My history of slaying these nasties should have me prepared. But still...I don't like them. I never saw any here before tonight, and I was a happy person. Now...Well, now, I am going to fly into paranoid mode and check the walls and floors regularly looking for them. That's just how I am. I'm hoping it's just the time of year. I'm hoping it's a one-time occurence.

In the meantime, I'm wondering if it's safe to spray near the radiators "just in case." (Is it?) Or treat the baseboards with such toxins. It's not as though I'll be licking them...

Best. Pedi. Ever.

At Lucyna's Goldfingers Spa.

Yes, I was apprehensive. Yes, I could barely keep a straight face when I spoke (or wrote) about it.

But really, it was awesome. The woman who sat at my feet spoke limited English, so I honestly didn't catch her name. Therefore, thanks to ElleStar, we'll call her Pussy Galore and for the sake of humor and pop culture.

(See? I incorporated not only the name, but the plausibility factor. You never said it had to be exciting.)

Anyway, P.G. did a FAB job. There is nothing like a waifish, beauty queen Polish woman with the strength of a thousand men sloughing heels. Divine!

In addition to lasting more than a full hour and being probably one of the best pedis I've ever had, it was really affordable. I will definitely be back.

Tricocci's can kiss my ass.

Random Friday Things

There was a lady on the train this morning that talked for over 30 minutes about her 13-year-old son's growth spurt to her seat mate. It bored the piss out of me. I didn't realize one could talk about a growth spurt in such detail and for so long.

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I managed to hop the "express" train home from work today. It normally takes about 30 minutes. Halfway through the journey home, the conductor came on over the loud speaker and advised us we would soon be stopping because a tornado was headed right at us. We were at a stand-still for about 40 minutes. No tornado came, much to the chagrin of the 18-year-old kid lounging on the seat in back of me, who called all of her friends and family and said "how cool" it would be to be in the middle of a tornado. She either has a death wish or just has an odd penchant for carnage.

This is also the same girl who coughed up a lung (without covering her mouth) and sniffed so much you could hear the boogers sliding around her sinus cavity. Like nails on a chalkboard. I literally was going batty. I'm now feeling sniffly. So help me...if that little bitch contaminated the air around me...I do NOT need to be getting sick, now of all times.

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It's official: I'm becoming boring. The highlight of my night was doing a load of laundry. And oddly enough, I don't care. The upshot of this is there are other people in my building with an equally dull social life because all of the washers and dryers were quite full this evening. Maybe I should start a club. "Desperately seeking other lame-o losers who used to be cool..."

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Big time pedi emergency being taken care of tomorrow. Rafferty and I are trying a new spa in a neighboring town called Lucyna's Goldfingers. I honestly cannot even take the name seriously.

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And in the saddest of news, the one song I despised when it first came out is now the one I cannot get out of my head and one that sees the volume raised when it comes on rhe radio. Damn you, Justin Timberlake.

Casualities of Summer/Fall Storms

Thus far, two umbrellas. They were ugly deaths. And surely the storms aren't over.

I need to buy stock in an umbrella company.

Am I A Travel Agent?

I used to work for a tour operator. That was cool. But during my tenure at that European company, I always took offense when those unable to separate (or learn to separate) the term "travel agent" and "tour operator" called me a travel agent. Or referred to me as working in a travel agency.

Not that there is anything wrong with either of those things. When I was about 8, I would walk past a certain travel agency in Oak Park and think to be a travel agent would be glamorous and cool. And in those days, that was pretty much true. That's when being a flight attendant was called being a stewardess and the lifestyle was considered quite glam as well.

But I digress... I was NOT a travel agent and to be called one would irk me. Because travel agent's bought from us. We were the ones that created and/or bought and/or negotiated the products. And it was a great experience for booking my own travel, for now I am really in the know.

Which leads me to my real point. I am NOT a travel agent. I don't even pretend to be one on occasion. But I do know my products and I'm pretty darn good with geography (especially of the European variety). So, I am currently in the midst of planning my trip to southern France. One of my fellow travelers is in the thick of the planning as well, offering suggestions and what-not. I feel a little bad steering him in different directions. It's hard to explain why it would suck to go to Marseille when you've never worked with people from France and had co-workers who were from France and are aware of the products out there (or not so much).

It also sucks that I care this much. Because I am NOT a travel agent. So why am I working my butt off planning this? There's service fee for me at the end of all of this. Why have I wasted countless evenings researching hotels? Why have I priced out planes, trains, and automobiles, carefully tracking not only expenses but time and quality of vacation time?

The answer is because I came from a tour operator. And the lines between tour operator and travel agent must be blurry for most people. And apparently, I am able to work miracles at high turnaround rates. And oddly enough? I have.

But I am still NOT a travel agent. I couldn't be one. I couldn't handle the bitchy clients (like me) and stress levels. Kudos to all of them out there. Be friends with your suppliers and life will be easier. Just a little bit.

As for my trip to southern France, I booked a divine little hotel in Cannes tonight. We book flights tomorrow along with the car rental, and the only thing I need to worry about then is a hotel in Paris right before and right after southern France. That will be the hat trick of the year. Finding a cheap hotel in Paris (HA!)...During Fashion Week.

I will likely go semi-insane soon.

A Place to Lay My Head

Months ago GBF and I decided to extend our stay in France after our business trip in October and venture to the south of France. We envisioned a convertable and us driving along the coast. Me with a sheer, colorful scarf tied about my head and big Jackie O sunglasses propped upon my nose. The wind is whipping and I am laughing. I have a long, classy filter and a filterless cig ready for when we pull over along jagged cliffs to take in the breathtaking view. GBF envisions himself with an ascot and smoking jacket, which makes me laugh heartily.

We enact it for people well. They all get a laugh. What they don't realize is we really do picture this being how it would be -- if money were not an issue and the world were perfect and rosy and if we had a film crew along with us, for surely we would make a great old movie.

Instead, we have come to the resounding conclusion that we're so going on the cheap. I know a not-so-new sedan and a cheap motel are in our future. My vacataion life and my real life are way too similar. I'm currently plowing through an assortment of inexpensive but safe accommodations down south. There are too many choices. Really, how am I supposed to pick?

We have less than three weeks to decide some basics. After months and months, now it's a priority. I don't even know why we're bothering. It's not as entertaining when there is such disparity between what I envision and what reality is. Of course, faux drama aside, it will be a divine trip and I am super-excited. I just wish someone else would make some of these decisions for us.

Open Letter to Dear X-Boyfriend

Dear DXB,

Let me open with a fact: You are a schmuck. A poor, misguided one. But still a schmuck.

I know we have been friends for many years. In fact, more than 6 before we even ventured into that great waste of time we called a relationship. You know, the one that took two years from the both of us. When we mutually agreed to part ways, we agreed to maintain our friendship. After all, there was no animosity between us.

However, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to be my friend. I know you're trying. You have been for the past two years. At first it was slightly amusing to watch you flail around in these new waters, but now it's just damn frustrating. Because you try harder. And I don't have the time to help you.

Apparently, you want a "special friendship." One that you're incapable of having with me because you feel too much or not enough and neither is at the appropriate moment. You also think this special friendship entitles you and only you to call the shots when you want. I would normally take issue with this, but count how many times I have called you.

(Zero is indeed the correct answer.)

Putting aside those moments where we thought it might be fun to explore our feelings and I thought you might be adult enough for the kind of friendship you want, I would've liked nothing more than to go back to a semblance of the friendship we used to have. We did have fun. And lots of laughs. And it's possible to get some of that back. I know because I've done it before with men both better and worse than you.

But the one thing you cannot do is ignore me in public when you are dating someone, virtually kick me off your radar, and then expect me to run to your side, arms wide open when she dumps you.

Our mutual friends have told me you're in a "fragile state." I didn't ask for this information. It was given to me and I have to admit that it made me laugh. Fragile? Let's look at the plain facts: She dumped you. You begged her back. She dumped you again. And there's no getting her back. Things happen. It's been several weeks. It's time to start that healing process.

However...Please don't turn to me when you're in your "fragile state." You turn to real friends for that. I'm not your real friend nor your special friend. I am the limbo friend. I am the one who obviously cares enough to write this but not enough to be your Good-For-Right-Now-To-Ease-The-Pain friend.

I wasn't good enough to speak to two months ago when she was by your side, but now I'm good enough to call repeatedly. And don't think I don't know what you want. It's not my shoulder to cry on.

I especially loved how you called repeatedly on Saturday morning. If I don't pick up at 2am and I don't return the long, semi-slurred message you left me, please don't continue to call back on the half-hour. It's not necessary. Not only am I not picking up the phone to speak with you, but you're not seeing me. I wasn't even in town on Saturday morning. I was in Vancouver, trying to grab a few hours of sleep before spending a day of travel to get home. My phone was on because it was my back-up alarm clock. Most people are conscious of time (both theirs as well as time differences). Your booty call would've fallen flat either way.

Please re-think what you're doing. You're going down the wrong path. If you're starting to see the glimmer of wrong-doing in your past, don't think sleeping with me is going to make things better. It's true I was the best thing that ever happened to you- emotionally, physically, mentally, and monetarily. I was part of your support network and of course I cared. Still do. But you cannot stick me on this shelf and only pull me down to play with when you're ready on your terms. That isn't how this works.

I'm sure this will fall on blind eyes. I'm sure we'll have a similar discussion when you do happen to catch me. What happens in the future happens then, but I do hope you will take something away from this now. In the meantime, please use discretion when dialing.

O Canada

The Canadians didn't make me learn their national anthem by heart, but they made me want to by the time I left their fair land.

Vancouver is more fantastic every time I visit. There's something about rainforest and sea and city all commingling around you that makes you breathe in the freshest air you've ever inhaled, look around mouth agape, and say, "This is awesome."

Business was good. Really good. No one can make me feel even the teensiest bit bad about it. Fantastic stuff.

I spent a day and a half for myself -- a mini-break I treated myself to before heading back into the office and diving in eyeballs first into stacks and stacks of work.

You can pack in a lot in a day and a half and still not feel as though you're rushing in the least. Thursday afternoon I went to Granville Island. Skipped the tour of the brewery and went straight for the tasting room. Then did some browsing in some of the cutest little boutiques. Enjoyed more beverages along the inlet between the island and the city. Beautiful views.

My full day off (Friday) saw me visiting the Capilano Suspension Bridge, which provides breathtaking views of the mountains as you precariously meander along the long bouncy bridge taking you over whooshing water. Once safely amongst the trees, trekkers climb up some stairs and along smaller rickety bridges for treetop views. It was a great hike and provided soooo much beauty.

After the Suspension Bridge, I hopped a bus to Grouse Mountain, hoping I could actually see the bears this time. Struck out again, but more hiking at the peak of Vancouver was still fun.

The weather was gorgeous. The leaves are starting to turn up there, and Autumn was in the air. It was wonderful to see nature up close and personal under those spectacular conditions.

The Pacific Northwest is really something else. I am not normally a big hiker. Give me a beach any day of the week. But there's something about breathing in that air and taking in that scenery that makes me say, "Get me up there/in there! I want to experience every little last thing about it."

It was sad to leave -- not just the beauty, but the people. Vancouverites are so, so sweet. They are helpful. They are pleasant. And they are so, so proud. I can easily see why.

The one thing that was alarming was the homeless problem. I know this is a bigger issue in the Pacific Northwest. Oregon- most specifically Portland- has a horrible homeless problem, especially for teenagers and young adults. Seattle, too. But Vancouver puts them (plus Chicago's own problem, which is likely similar to just about anywhere else) to shame. They are young and old. Some dirtier than others. All looking for a buck. Or a smoke. Or the greediest ones want both and then some. I've been told by Vancouverites that there's a plan to rid the city of this problem before the Olympics land there. They have four years to figure it out, and I have no idea how they can do it in a humane way. It's a people problem. It's a social issue. It's more than just moving a homeless person into a closet for a couple weeks or putting them on a train bound for another city. If they do figure it out, the World needs to take note.

Despite the sadness of the homeless issue, I *heart* the city in a big way.

But I was gone just long enough. I have a few weeks at home before my next journey, and I need time to truly focus, both at work and at home. That day and a half break was just what I needed to rejuvenate the body, mind, and soul.

Canada, Eh?

Tis travel season. Tomorrow I'm off to Vancouver. No doubt it will be an exhausting but fast week.

There are six new people on this trip, and it will be interesting to see how they fit in with the rest of our crew. We're very much a tight-knit group, especially when traveling. We, "the established," are all quite welcoming, but there is something to be said for a good fit. This will be a telling week, as true colors are always exposed when you're practically living together for days on end.

I'll have one free day before returning home, and I'm already debating between a Bohemian jaunt around the city or whale watching. The former is far cheaper, but the latter sounds more exciting. Only time will tell...

Reason #23 Why I Like Madrid

A fabulous step forward. When will Paris, Milan, and the good 'ol U.S. of A. take note?

R.I.P. Steve Irwin

Not so shocking (although I didn't see it coming this soon), but I expected that when he went it would be by some big gruesome really fearsome creature.

Of course, as I told Rafferty, now I am re-thinking snorkeling in St. Martin. Such a benign activity, but I can see myself freaking out when I see something big and scary and venomous. Or just a shark or something not so docile.

How Productive Can One Person Be?

A rainy, gray Labor Day proved to be extremely productive.

* Two loads of laundry done.
* Trip to Target for birthday cards and a present completed (along with many things for me).
* Condo cleaned (including bathroom and kitchen floors).
* Dinner made.
* Movie watched (two stars).
* Vacation in southern France already being planned (I'm thinking Marseilles, Cannes, St. Tropez, Nice).
* Reviewed new cookbook for yummy recipes to tackle. Plenty of good Fall dishes in there.

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I miss Mom's cooking. My dinner was good but not great. It seems like there is always "something" missing whenever I endeavor to recreate her dishes. Could it be love?

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My mind is racing as I prepare to embark on what is to be a busy week. Exhausting. Work- and personal-related.

And yet...I think about everything else that needs to be accomplished. Everything I want to get done rather than just think about and wish. I should be more organized. Skinny PR Waif has a folder bursting at the seams that is her walking To Do List. I have no desire to be that organized, but if I commit something to paper, I expect that I will take it more seriously; work towards it a bit more. Dreams are good, but there is something be said for realizing them. Most are reachable with a little effort (even the big ones).

Sweet Home Chicago

Arrived home from Beijing with no issues or mishaps or remote unpleasantries Friday evening and have been off and running about during this Labor Day weekend, enjoying every ounce that this beautiful city has to offer. Luckily, I am not one to experience jet lag. My exhaustion is strictly due to self-inflicted sleep deprivation.

On the remainder of Beijing: The highlight was climbing the Great Wall. And yes, it was great. Beyond great. I'm not sure there are words to explain it all, but as I went through a grueling climb to get to the top-most portion (yes, we did the hard portion first followed by the easy jaunt. Why be simple?) and I surveyed the scenery before me, I could only think how truly lucky I am, for I have the brilliant opportunity to see and touch and experience what many will only read about or watch on TV. As for this being one of the Wonders of the World... well, I never did believe it before- how could a wall be so amazing?- and now I am a complete convert.

As for the climb- and that first portion was one, complete with steps that at some points came to my knees- it was rough. Even the most fit people were struggling. And it was hot. And humid. And the sun was beating down. And no one complained (well, maybe a teeny bit, but who wouldn't? It was long. And steep. And did I mention the word grueling? Because it was. Plus exhausting). And it was fulfilling. So deeply fulfilling.

It's good to be home. Only for a short time. Am off to Vancouver Saturday morning. But I have managed to put that out of my mind most of the weekend because I have wanted to enjoy every ounce of being home.

It's funny -- I walked in my door on Friday evening and fell in love with my place all over again. I suppose I have been too down on it and myself for not having done more (or actually, anything). But I have a renewed appreciation for my living quarters and intend to start adding personal touches in small bits and pieces soon.

Yesterday was a small to-do in Andersonville hosted by a co-worker. My GBF and I went together, which was oodles of fun as anyone who has a GBF would naturally expect. Of course, we caught up at his pad prior to departing for the evening out (which is also where my minor desire to slightly decorate could be coming from because his place is divine), which means we left later than we should have and arrived slightly more than fashionably late. But it was worth it because when GBF and I get together the laughs keep coming and the time zips by and why stop our fun if we don't have to? We stayed an appropriate amount of time and then drank at Scully's. "Just one" turned into closing the bar at 2:30. The nights that are never well planned and never go as expected are usually the ones that smack of great fun and adventures and good laughs with excellent people. Fun fun and I am lucky.

No recovery time today. Had errands to run and then Dad's 60th birthday BBQ. Lovely family gathering, and any day that includes Diva Niece is a fabulous one.

Am sooo looking forward to tomorrow. No big plans. No time-consuming commitments. Just errands and cleaning and laundry and TV and cooking dinner (yes, cooking. A true treat for me) and just enjoying everything before the week escapes me and I look around and am in Canada.