Pictures...

A while back I created paint pictures to correspond with a couple of posts. For whatever reason I was not able to load the pictures but I now find that I am able to do so. I decided to post these pictures for the fun of it...enjoy my "paint" skills

This was to go along with Meg's and my trip to Sluggers for Dueling Pianos (obviously).

This was to illustrate what my childhood sledding experiences with my brother were like.

This was painted to show my friend Jim how detrimental skiing would be to me which, even after a lesson at a reputable mountain resort, I still feel would be the case.

Day in the asylum that is my life.

My day was out of control yesterday. The hour to hour was plagued by a boss who cannot learn to step back from the day to day…and then I had the gold-toothed wonder harass me on the street (see below) and then after work the nonsense continued.

I was trying to make my way home and I traveled down to the L stop at Jackson. I was standing on the platform waiting for the train to come (which seems to be the activity that takes up about half of my life these days) and I noticed that “Crazy Curtis” was down there. Crazy Curtis is a man who wanders about the State St. area. I notice him all of the time and, in fact, I do not know if his name is Curtis…I totally made it up. I needed a name for him as I see him all of the time. Crazy Curtis, although clearly on something most of the time, seems harmless enough. Not too much to worry about when he is around, mostly I just feel sorry for him. He clearly has had a hard life. Well, Crazy Curtis was on the platform yesterday…sometimes he gets down to the platform and spends a bit of time down there until the police find him and take him away.

As I was looking up from my MP3 Player I noticed that Crazy Curtis was doing something odd about 15 ft away. That is when the synapses in my brain started firing properly and I realized that Crazy Curtis was dropping trough, ass hanging out over the tracks and he was…no he couldn’t be…yes he was…he was pooping. Curtis was pooping over the tracks on the Jackson St. platform. I didn’t see the final execution of the poop b/c I had turned and buried my head in a complete stranger’s chest. David was kind enough to pat my head and let me be grossed out for a moment even though he did not know me at the time. The police where there in a flash after a woman yelled “oh my God he just pooed”…and Crazy Curtis was pulled from the platform. I can assure you, however, that the image will never be pulled from my brain. Never.

The image is so embedded that I cannot even “paint” it on the computer for you. I might gag again.

On top of all of that, David and I ended up sitting on the train together until he got off at Clark and Division. He was delightful. Promptly sitting next to me was a girl who asked me about my “Interpreter of Maladies” book and we started chatting about the books that she and I had been reading (I am always up for a discussion on literature). So anyway, Emily and I were having a normal conversation…small talk…nothing out of the ordinary. The train was stopped for some time so after awhile I went back to reading, not really paying attention. As we were pulling up to Belmont Emily said “well, if you ever want to go out, give me a call” and hands me a napkin that says “Would love to go on a date sometime-give me a ring!- Em” and then her number.

WTF?! I WAS NOT FLIRTING WITH HER. Unfortunately for Emily I really enjoy the men. I can barely be friends with women…I certainly could not date one. A) Emily did not look like your typical lesbian B) I don’t really think that I look like a lesbian…and most men clearly know that I am not one so how did she get confused C) how is someone that forward with someone on the train anyway D) I fear that my flirting has gotten SO out of control that I don’t even know when I am doing it anymore!

Is that it? Can I not control it anymore? Am I giving “doe eyes” and hair flips to everyone I meet now even chicks? Oh Geeze someone help me…no wonder I have had so many offers for dates lately…apparently I look like a girl you can pick up on the train!

I got off the L and hoped I would make it home in one piece. Happily I sat in front of the TV for most of the night calming down from a day of absolute insane shenanigans ("Farva, what's that place you like to eat that has all the shit on the walls?") . I hope today goes better…

This:




Is literally an exact replica of what the woman on the street who just yelled at me, looked like.

She scared me and I might have cried a bit on the inside. I was walking my happy little way to Barnes and Noble to study for the GRE when I looked up and noticed this woman standing somewhat in my way. She really did look completely normal except that she had on a "cosby sweater" and her hair was a little (well a lot) crazy. But then...oh but then my friends...she smiled and her grill was filled with gold teeth. Holy Flava Flav batman FILLED with gold teeth (as you can see by the above picture). As I passed she whispered (and for those that know me you know I HATE whispering) "you look like a hot piece of ass". WHAAAA?!!

Seriously? I am getting cat calls from the crazy cosby-sweater lady on the street? What in the hell is that all about? I would also like to state that neither today nor any other day do I "look like a hot piece of ass" and therefore this statement is completely false...and is the very thing that makes me question her sanity. (well that and the GOLD TEETH) She was a soccer mom gone wrong and she went wrong right in my path. I am scarred and I will never recover.

So I was looking on the home computer for some pictures to download from our "my pics" file. As you can see from previous posts I am using the same damn picture over and over again.

It was great to back through the pictures from the year. As B and I are getting ready to move to a different location is it quite endearing to see the pictures of our first night in Chicago in our first apartment in the city. I honestly can say that it has been a great year and so much happened. We had such great times at our little apartment and I hope that our new one brings us just as much joy. Hopefully we get the place we have found and love (I don't want to say too much about it for fear that I will jinx!) and hopefully things stay on the same fantastic track they are on now!

I did notice in our pictures that there are just as many effing pictures of Minda and the BFF as there are of B and I. Seriously...you would think that these folks spend every weekend in the Chi. I did find two that I particularly love and as I have no real post, I thought I would share those and call it a day!

They are drunkards :-) This was the night of the elephant glass and Mr. Outlaw. I assure you this came right before or right after one of them making fun of the other and failing their arms about impersonating Brett.

Below could quite possibly be one of my favorite pictures ever it looks as if the BFF is saying:

"ohh Brett is drunk and I totally know a secret about him...i know he is so going home with the guy in the pink shirt over there" OR "I am totally going to kill Brett tonight especially if he pulls that falling in and out of the bathroom tub nonsense, again. This kid is dunzo. Where's my blowup mattress?!" And Brett is saying "I hope that I get a housecoat for Christmas...I love Molly's. Damn, I cannot believe that Molly is making out with another straight guy in the middle of boystown! Where.does.she.find.them?"

Final Question from 6

6. You are infamously in love with your Alma Mater. Share some of your favorite things about the U of I and what made it such a wonderful experience for you. If you could go back and relive a handful of days (say between 4 and 8) from your college years, what ones would you pick and why? What do you miss the most? What don’t you miss at all? How has attending the U of I changed you in ways that attending any other school could not?

If you put me in a room with 50 prospective freshman still undecided as to what college to go to, I promise you that I could convince all 50 to go to the University of Illinois. Promise you.

My college experience was something that kids dream of when they begin to get those brochures in the mail junior year of high school. I made friends that will literally last a lifetime, I had professors that inspired me and caused me to search for a greater passion, I joined clubs and organizations that gave me skills I still use today, I went to hundreds of sporting events, I tail-gated, I frequented the bars in PJ pants some days and black pants the next, I sat on the quad and listened to protests, I swam in the fountains, I stayed at school for 3 summers working a job that changed my life, I lived in the dorms, I lived in an apartment and not a day went by that I didn’t say “God am I happy to be here”.

I can’t describe why I love my Alma Mater so much…it is the feeling I get when I go back and see the fall leaves surrounding the actual statue of the Alma Mater and read the inscription “To thy happy children of the future, those of the past send greeting.” It the feeling that there is a common bond of blue and orange across the country and the world and that everyone who has come before me and will come after me will walk through the Union, sit on the Quad, have a beer at Murphy’s and sing “Hail to the Orange…Hail to the Blue”

I think what made the experience so incredible were the people and that common bond. Not only do I love my friends that I had then and the ones that I still have now, but there are those that I just passed by or became acquainted with for a semester through a class or an organization. People changed my life because of the ideas that they had and the things that they did.

Perhaps I could have gotten this at any other college like U of I. My experiences might have been the same at most of the Big 10 schools. But I doubt it. I believe that you go somewhere for a reason and that if you have the opportunity to chose, you can walk onto the campus of a school and know that it is right for you. I knew that and I was correct and that I was a very lucky girl.

I don’t miss it because I love my life now and I have always said that I never want to be the person that says “my best times were 10 years ago”…I want to keep living in my “best times”. But sometimes when the air hits me in the right way I think of the magnolia tree outside of Lincoln Avenue Residence Hall, when I smell a sandalwood candle I think of Brett’s apartment, when I see an Irish Pub I think of Murphy’s, and when I hear the drums beat and the horns rise to belt out Oskee Wow Wow my heart flutters remember the great times I had in college.

Drinking in your homeroom, anyone?

My parents sent me to a wonderful Catholic High School in the Northern Suburbs and the benefits that I gained from that experience are incredible. I am a much better person because of the things that I learned and the friendships that I made at Carmel. Because of that, I try to give back in any way that I can monetarily and with my very precious time. This was one of those weekends that not only did I give Carmel a little kickback of funds, but they gave me a great opportunity as well.

Carmel closes down the second week in February and revamps itself for the Street Scenes fundraiser. The kids all join in and help while many parents and faculty/staff pitch in as well. The school opens its doors on Friday and Saturday with bands, restaurants, a student show, beautiful decorations and much alcohol. Yes…I said Alcohol. Because where would the Catholics be without their beer?!

Lauren, Mrs. D, Judy and Suzanne and I went to Street Scenes to take in the glory of a bunch of North Shore parents and teachers getting tipsy in their children’s high school hallways. My friend Christine’s brother always described how weird it was by saying “you can never capture the feeling you have when you turn 21 and are able to go back and drink in your homeroom”. Indeed…indeed.

After a couple martini’s, some beer and wine and a few spouts of dancing in the “Carmel Café” we were on a roll and looking for some people that we knew. A lot of kids from high school go back and enjoy Street Scenes, so you are always able to find someone. There were a couple people…no one that I particularly enjoyed but it was good to see familiar faces. Lauren and I were surprised at how odd it was that so many people stayed friends with their groups from high school. We pretty much hang out with each other and I have a couple of friend who were older then me, but besides that I don’t talk to or fraternize with anyone from CHS. We were fearsome that people would think that we had become lesbian lovers and not be surprised by it…whenever we go back to school we are always together. My friends are from college and I kind of like that they didn’t know me when I was a druggy hippy girl.

I will tell you this, it gives you good perspective. We saw a girl who is our age, graduated from college got married right away and is now having her 2nd baby. All I could think is “thank God that isn’t me”. Isn’t that horrible?! I went back and found that I was completely happy and proud to tell people what I am doing, where I am and who I have become. That is a great feeling. Everyone asks what you are up to…trying to get the dirt…but Lauren and I didn’t feel like we had to lie or stretch the truth. We love who we are. Realizing that is worth the $25 ticket and an overpriced martini.

I totally need to get a new pic of Brett and I on my work computer...I have used that shit for everything! haha.

5th Question from 6

5. You often muse about living with a gay man. What do you think is the reason for such strong bonds between gay men and straight women? What do you enjoy most about living with a gay man? How do your relationships with gay men provide insight for your relationships with straight men, if they do? What is the most tenuous or fragile part of a friendship between a gays and girls? How does living with a gay man differ from living with a straight man or a girl or a small, yappy dog?

Well first of all, I don’t muse…but if we must continue on with this question then let me answer with my non-musing observations. Let me start by saying if I were to do said musing it would be about living with Brett as a gay man. Brett…is a being unto himself. Honestly one of the sassiest, smartest and most fun people I have ever met. On top of all of that, he happens to be gay which does add a different dynamic (and quite a few more comments about men between one’s legs) but loving living with Brett has almost nothing to do with him being gay, and everything to do with him being an overall amazing person and one of the best friends a girl can ask for. (although the gay factor does allow me to watch Project Runway without guilt, so that is certainly a plus)

But on to the gay men/straight women thing…I don’t really know how it all came about or what the relationships stem from, but I do know that I have never had more positive friendships then those that I do with my gay friends. It is a bond that seems to attract all types and fills a void that makes me feel sorry for women who do not have gay friends. But I really have to stress that these men are incredible because of who they are, not because they are gay. Perhaps being gay makes them less of a threat. The old Harry Met Sally factor of “men can’t be friends with women b/c they always want to sleep with them” is not present and so both parties are allowed to be who they truly are. There is no need to impress and no need to worry that one party feels slighted. So, in the end I am able to truly enjoy ever facet of my gay friends because I never have to worry about getting drunk and having sex with them. The stress of that turn in a relationship is not there so I know that they will be a part of my life forever. The gay men that I have been lucky enough to have friendships with have truly changed my life and I know that they will continue to do so.

I have lived with straight men and honestly the situation has been almost the same as with Brett and I. Straighty and I had a couple of “close calls” when we were really drunk, but nothing serious and in the end it was a positive relationship and a great roommate situation. What I have with Brett (and I don’t know if this is because he is gay but I think it might have something to do with it) is that we can have the stupid day to day stuff, but he is much more willing to talk about his feelings and share. He is absolutely more insightful or perhaps feels more comfortable speaking up about it. He is able to dissect situations and over-analyze with me while we sit on our silly blue and green couches and I don’t know if that could happen with a straight man…but more importantly I don’t know if it could happen with another gay man either.

I guess what I am getting at is that I love my gay friends…but most of all I love them because they are Adam, Frank, Josh, Drew, Ferdie and most of all Brett. When Brett and I talk about the future it isn’t his gay roommate status that comes into play but the fact that I know he will stand up in my wedding, be the God-parent of one of my children, be there for every celebration and every loss. That has nothing to do with being a straight woman and a gay man and has everything to do with being us.



although i would love a yappy dog!!

Friday of Dueling and Shots

Most of the time I don’t feel the need to recap the weekend events as it usually does not involve much, however Friday was quite the debacle and therefore I feel I should share.

Friday started out as any normal day…I woke up, thought about calling in sick and then decided I should get my lazy ass out of bed and get on over to the South Loop. Work was great and topped off by Meg stopping by to ask some of us to go to an art opening for one of her friends. The gallery is in the Fine Arts building on Michigan which is such a beautiful place (and a Chicago landmark!).

The champagne was flowing and the conversation with some cute Italian men kept us there for awhile. I had every intention of going home (in fact I made Brett promise that he would not let me go out that night) and staying home that night until Meg asked if I wanted to go out to Dueling Pianos at Sluggers. (clearly Brett failed to keep me home).

A quick stop by home and we were back on the town. The evening at Sluggers started with just Meg and I doing shots and drinking Jack and Cokes at the bar downstairs. A couple of Jaeger bombs later we made our way upstairs to the Dueling Pianos where we danced and flirted with the piano guys…one of which strangely reminded me of my brother-in-law Jeff…there were two-step lessons, ball-room dancing and some booty shaking. I believe the Northwestern fight song was thrown in there somewhere and we certainly did complain about the opposite sex a lot!

Completely wasted we tumbled over to the Shilling to meet Hugo and Gina for some shots and beer. It was there that I met Meg’s friend, the famed “Santa”…a name every so fitting because he really does look like a non-grey version of Santa. (side note for Lauren and Vikas, he looked A LOT like hottie Benji from Chem. E. ahhh Benji!) We continued to get wasted and I believe that Gina did some Karaoke and although I didn’t see her do it, I am positive that Meg did Karaoke, too!

I stumbled home (literally)…Brett says I was incredibly loud coming into the house and was absolutely still wasted the next morning. The entire night it was just Meg and I for the most part, and for a night that I had not intended to even leave the house, it was pretty crazy!

Hard hitting journalism that we have come to expect from Slate.com…a sledding exposé.

Happy 's Day!!

Looks like another 6 weeks of winter




and...happy brithday to RJ Lauraitis (talk about weird things you remember!)

Molly's Daily Scorpio Forecast:
A compelling mystery arises, but it's more enjoyable if you don't try to solve it.

How very "Nancy Drew and the Case of the Hidden Staircase"



See...I told you!

What does happen to zoo animals when they die?!

I found this terribly interesting...but it could be that I am just a dork.

Check it out...

http://www.slate.com/id/2134941/?nav=fo