All Jenny, because you can never get too much.

It's something

2007-10-09T10:46:00.000-05:00

Handle

Stairs

Baby brother all grown up

2007-07-12T10:37:00.001-05:00

Today is my little brother's birthday. 24. 24! The idea that he is getting so old is a little bit scary to me, though I have no doubt he is prepared for it. In celebration of his day I thought I'd share some of the things that I like best about him/most impress me about him/make me laugh at him.

He is a teacher. And a good one. He teaches a bunch of high school kids that could wear down Mother Teresa's patience and he never even blinks. He is realistic about their futures, yet hopeful and encouraging all along. He even took his kids to visit his Alma mater, resulting in an acceptance to the school. I'm amazed at this, because more profoundly, I am amazed he hasn't thrown any of them out the window. I surely would have.
He does the best imitations of people I have ever seen or heard.

David immitating a really annoyed brother whose sister will not stop taking pictures of him. Perfection.

He is an artist. An amazing artist. He has given me several pieces which I love to display. He has an eye for detail that makes his work unique and hard not to stare at for hours.
He wears his emotions on his face. When David is pissed, you know it. When David doesn't like you, he doesn't hide it. While I don't particularly love this, I can appreciate it because you always know where he is coming from. More than that, I love that when he is happy because he has the best laugh and smile in the entire world.

Mostly likely cracking up due to a fart joke.

He krumps. Seriously. And with gusto. Some of my favorite memories are dancing with my brother in the house and in the car. And not just a gentle swaying. I'm talking full throttle, balls to the wall gyrations and spasms. I'm not saying that either one of us are particularly good, but that doesn't mean we don't give 100% every time.
He is a bleeding heart liberal. He loves politics and can out argue just about anyone, even when he is wrong. He has some serious convictions and he will fight you to the death to get his point across. He has a soft spot for the most vulnerable and underprivileged among us and has proven he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty in helping tackle those issues. I love all this leftist enthusiasm even more because I knew him way back when he was in 9th grade and was a staunch Republican.

If this isn't the portrait of a budding political mind, I don't know what is.

His hands look like paws on a puppy.

He has hands like this, only more hairy. Also, there was another picture here, but SOME people found it offensive. Prudes.

We both get Franken-neck pretty regularly. Genetics.
As we get older we start to look more and more alike. While he complains that in pictures we always look like boyfriend and girlfriend (it is creepy, we know. It's been discussed and we aren't proud of it), hopefully soon we will look similar enough that people will either assume we are just happy siblings or from Appalachia.

Loving brother or sister or future parents of a very inbred child? Ew..I'm sorry. That was too much.

David can have some foul moods. I mean, seriously foul. But the nice thing is, no matter how mean he gets, or whatever nastiness comes out of his mouth, he will always apologize when he knows he's really hurt your feelings. I have a million little notes somewhere saved from when we lived under the same roof that say the sweetest, most heartwarming things.
When we were little kids and we wanted to get our mom's attention we would pool our annoyingness together and I would yell, "MOMM-" and then he would yell, "-MMY" over and over until she would come to us. While I'm sure my mother would remember this as one of our less charming attributes, I think it was pretty adorable. Go Teamwork.

I have a lot more things I like/think are funny about my brother, but from here on out, the stories/opinions I have fall into the category of things my brother would kill me for sharing. But I think you can get the gist of him through what I have disclosed. Starting in high school he began evolving into Dave. Dave is how his friends know him. David is the hip guy who dresses smart and listens to kick ass music. I like Dave. But really, to me, he will always be David, who danced our choreography while lip-syncing to "Master of the House" from Les Miserables with me around our family room. So Happy 24 Dave and David! I hope the next 24 will bring you more success and happiness than your bleeding liberal heart could ever imagine.

No family vacation is complete without...ME!

2007-07-10T10:53:00.000-05:00

As I mentioned before, this June ruled. I've had one more weekend to add to a fantastic month. The last weekend in June happened to be my parent's 30th anniversary. Wow. That means my mom has been married more years than she was single and my dad is getting close. That just blows my mind. Personally, I think my parents are an excellent example of how a marriage should work. They don't always (or ever) get along, per se, but they both have a lot of love and respect for the other that keeps it going. Most likely, they each have pretty detailed, well thought out plans of how to get rid of the other and make it look like an accident. But not once in 30 years have either one of them reverted to those plans and I think that takes guts and should be commended. My parents were planning on going to New York to visit my brother that weekend and my brother had the brilliant idea that I should fly out there secretly and surprise them for their anniversary. That's David, always thinking. So that is what I did. (I realize this plan/anniversary present all hinges on the assumption that someone (my parents) would want to "receive" me or time with me as a gift. In fact, in this case, it goes so far as to assume someone would not only like to "receive" me, but pay for all my meals, cabs and lodging on top of it. I'm pretty awesome, so I'm going to say it is a pretty safe assumption.)

Manhattan, as seen from Brooklyn.

I planned to arrive the same day as them, just a little later so I would meet them at their hotel after dinner. Possible revelation scenarios included me already in the room, yelling surprise when they entered, a bell boy knocking on the door saying, "Delivery" and then the delivery was me or me randomly walking up to them in the lobby asking for the time. All my good intentions flew out the window when it stormed for three days in Chicago, prior to my departure.

Their flight was delayed. My flight was delayed even more. I ended up arriving at their hotel at 1:30 am. David had informed the front desk of my pending arrival and they had a key for me. David was pretty sick and took a Tylenol PM, so he said I should just let myself in if he didn't answer his phone. The only problem with that plan was the chain lock on the door. So after calling David about 15 times, he finally answered and let me in. We snuck into my parent's room where David woke them saying, "I have surprise for you." I snuck out from behind the door and said, "Surprise!" My dad barely rolled over. My mom picked her head up and looked at me (without glasses or contacts) and said, "What?" I said, "It's your daughter, Jenny!" My mom said, "What?" Dad said, "Jennnnnnny. Hello. " and then went back to sleep. My mother was pretty confused, understandably. The most she could spit out that night was, "What? I don't understand. But how did you get here? I don't understand. Where were you? How are you here? What? I don't understand." It was pretty cute. There was a pull-out couch that David was sleeping on, but he was very, very sick and contagious. So my parent's 30th anniversary ended just like every couple imagines theirs will end. In bed, with their 26 year old child in bed with them. Now that's what I call romance.

Little do they know this scene will be repeating itself 26 years from now, minus the contented smiles.

The weekend was great. David was really sick, and I felt pretty bad for him. But he hang in their like a trooper. He recently moved to his first apartment where he will have no roommates and I think he is just going to love it. He has a pretty sweet set up there. The apartment seems nice, it has cool people in the building and it is very close to a lot of fun.

It worries me that my brother just continues to get more good looking. Soon I'm going to have to stop uglying myself up so as to make him feel better. I hate him thinking I got all the good looking genes in the family.

We ate at some pretty incredible restaurants in Brooklyn, went to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, went to the MoMA, walked along the river and just had a great time. Brooklyn is pretty kick ass. The more I go there, the more I really enjoy it. My parents were happy with my presence and were glad to have the whole family together. So overall, Operation Surprise Anniversary was a success. Even with the co-sleeping.

Weekend in Review

2007-06-27T10:56:00.000-05:00

If my entire life were like this month of June, I'd be the luckiest woman alive. To continue on the nuptials theme, I attended an engagement party weekend for my dear friend Ben and his lovely and gracious fiance, Kristin. The whole crew of us who lived together my junior year of college were all in attendance. Both Rud and Tina have eloquently described this weekend's activities, but I will give an update as well. Following Rud's example, I will take the bullet point approach, elaborating when necessary (or interesting).

Wednesday, June 20 to Thursday, June 21.
-Quality time with Tina.

Tina says I made her eat hair. I think she enjoyed it.

Friday, June 22.
-Tina made delicious food for the road.
- Food consumed in first 20 minutes on the road.
- A four hour drive took 6 and 1/2 hours.
- Aforementioned delay was due to a truck "dropping its load" on 80-90, thus shutting down the highway. 3 miles in 2 hours. One display of dexterity, flexibility and just plain bravery in the backseat on my part. If any of you know my bladder, then you can imagine what this refers to.
-Arrival at Devil's Lake VERY late in the evening. Entire E2 contingent (my roomies, Didi, Andrew, Nemo and Ben) awake and drinking, awaiting our arrival.
-Catching up around the bonfire.
-Spooning with Tina.

Saturday, June 23.
-Breakfast with my roommates!
-Tubing
- I've always been a little afraid of tubing, but I think I might have picked up an addiction. On the first go, it was Me, Didi and Ben. There was treachery. There were heroics. There was lots of maniacal laughter. It was awesome. The second round was with Tina and Carrie. Less treachery, same amount of fun. I came away with only Franken-neck (how I will forever more refer to my neck stiffness) and a skinned elbow. The following morning I was so unbelievably sore. It felt awesome.

Ben tried to overthrow, but Didi's and my collective strength denied him every time.

-Institution of the 2 put up's for every put down. Let's just say Nemo was giving me put up's all night.
- Cornhole, a game I have always scoffed at. There is nothing more annoying than frat boys throwing bean bags on the sidewalk on a beautiful, sunny day. However, after participating, I can really see the appeal. Still, the frat boys should take it to their back yard.
- BBQ!
- Incredible nap on the dock in the sun with my roommates. Perfect.

What else was perfect? Our E2 pyramidal formation, that's what.

- Caribbean Band!! And they played Sweat! There was dancing. Much much dancing.
- Catered dinner. Coconut rice, chicken and beef that melted in your mouth. Corn with vanilla butter! Cake! It was to die for. It fit the theme and satisfied everyone's palate.
- Fireworks off the dock. One of the most impressive displays I have ever seen on the amateur circuit.
-Bonfire with...wait for it...S'MORES!!! and the introduction of Harper Pies (bread, pizza sauce, meat, cheese, all in the fire. Delicious.).
- There is no better food on earth than s'mores. Well, a few, but let's just say I if I combined s'mores with my other favorites, it would be a meal fit for Zeus himself.

Sunday, June 24.
-Early departure.
-Sad goodbyes
-Traffic
-Street closure due to Gay Pride Parade.
-Excellent sushi dinner.

All in all, it was a perfect weekend, though it was way too short. There is obviously a lot more information, but it is mostly inside jokes, so I spared you. This group of friends hadn't all been together since 2005 and it was fantastic to remember how much fun we used to have, and to witness how much fun we still have (as evidence by the over abundance of exclamation points in this post). I think E2 get togethers are going to have to become a yearly thing. I just can't wait til there are babies at these events. Ok, I take that back. I can wait cause that will mean crying and tending to them, and smelly diapers and distractions, and possibly Barney. I'm just fine with no babies for another 5 years. But when they all start having babies, I will be ready. Just so long as I get out of diaper duty.

The sunset, metaphor for life, love, the end of the weekend and the completion of this entry.

Joys of summer

2007-06-18T10:05:00.000-05:00

There are many things to look forward to as summer envelopes us. Sun tans, BBQ's, vacations, long weekends, ice cream, etc. One major disappointment of the summer for me has always been the lack of new tv shows. All my favorites were in reruns. Last year, however, I discovered something that would save me from watching Lifetime originals all summer long (and subsequently plunging into a weeping mess covered in hagaan daz because really, women have it so hard. You don't know the pain that can come with ovaries) and over the last couple of weeks this something has made me excited about life all over again. That's right. Season 3 of So You Think You Can Dance (or for those in the know, SYTYCD) is BACK!

I just love this show. It has a quality that draws me in where shows like American Idol, America's Got Talent, Dancing with the Stars and Survivor turn me off. To be honest, I don't watch a lot of "reality tv" save for this and Charm School and its various incarnations (it hurts so good). I can't even watch Real World or Real World/Road Rules Challenge, and those used to be staples in my TV diet. I think it is the combination of lots of dancing with lots of dancing. Also, the people are young and quirky and fun. I love how they pair people up, because often times the chemistry between them is so squirm-worthy that that you are sure they are doing the do backstage afterwards (more on this later). I even enjoy watching the boring styles, like the waltz. The right couple can make me re-live their dance over and over again thanks to tivo and youtube. Also, the music rules. I usually end up trying some move they did during the course of the evening, and I usually butcher it pretty substantially(and often end up with a Franken-neck). Good thing I watch it alone.

This season started off strong with an impressive top 20 (10 guys, 10 girls). Obviously there were some standouts. Here are my favorites.

Jessi and Pasha
I like them both, but I love Jessi (and love looking at Pasha). Theirs was one of the typically boring to watch waltz' that I actually enjoyed. Mostly I know I like Jessi from the auditions and I expect big things from her.

Hok and Jaime
ruled) but I love Hok. I can't stand Jaime. And I swear to god, if she brings him down, I will personally go after her and pull out her big, curly hair one strand at a time. Their performance this week wasn't great (Jaime's fault, Hokworked it.) Hok's audition footage was pretty bad ass. He is adorable.

Lacey and Kameron
I'll be honest. I really didn't like either of these two before last week's show. And I usually can't stand watching modern dance. But this little number was pretty freaking awesome. Also, I can tell that despite her being Mormon, Lacey and Kameron will be boning at some point, if they haven't already, and if he isn't gay. I got a little hot and bothered just watching them. Which is nice. I like interactive tv.

Cedric and Faina
Hate Faina. I hope she goes home next week. Heart Cedric. Big time. He reminds me of Stretch Armstrong, but cuter. And less white.

Anya and Danny
Hate Danny. I'm aflutter about Anya. I want to reach through the TV and make out with her. They had excellent chemistry but mostly, this week they kicked ass because she's got legs that go on for days.

Sara and Jesus
Sara is a B girl. Jesus is the son of God. What more can you ask for. I hope they both stay the entire show and I hope Sara wins because she brought it.

In addition to SYTYCD, summer also bring swimsuits. Fun for some, unbearable for others. Last year I believe I retold the story of trying to buy a swimsuit and ending up with a maternity suit that looked pretty damn good on me. I'd say that experience goes firmly in the unbearable swimsuit experience column. But there IS something we can all look forward to. White swimsuits that magically turn see-thru with water! Or wait, can we? I have been doing a little swimming lately and there is always the same old woman there. She is probably in her upper 70's and looks every day of it. While she is technically excersizing, I wouldn't go so far as to say what she does could be considered swimming by any stretch of the imagination. More like floating, standing and occasionally walking very, very slowly. The other day she was getting out of the pool at her usual turtle pace when I saw it. By "it" I am referring to her old ass nipple right around where her belly button is. She had a swim suit that was half black and half white and the white part was not padded so as to hide areola. And if there is any areola I REALLY don't want to be seeing, it is the saggy, wrinkly areola of a woman in the winter of her life. She is either oblivious, or actually a saucy tart who is trying to seduce the gentleman that usually swims in her lane and chats her up. Though I'm pretty sure for him to actually see nip while she is standing in the pool, he would have to be laying on the bottom. Old age is a mother fucker.

While that's not her, that pretty much sums it up. Yikes.

So on that note, keep your nips under wraps and always wear sunblock.

The Wedding Issue

2007-06-12T15:44:00.001-05:00

It's spring time and that can only mean one thing. Weddings. Lots and lots of weddings. In the past month I have been to two beautiful weddings of college friends and I would like to take a moment and reflect.

The Kate-Tom Wedding

The weekend before memorial day, two of my friends from the Northwestern Alpine Ski Racing Team were married.

NU Alpine Ski Racing Team Represents. Really, are we not the picture of Division I athletes?

Kate and Tom met on ski team, so I was able to witness this relationship from its inception. The wedding took place at Lake Geneva on a perfect day. Kate looked stunning and seemed as natural on the alter as if she was ordering some fries with her cheeseburger. Tom, equally as dapper, seemed happy as hell and there were even some tears on his part, which meant there were tears on my part. Nothing makes me cry like a choked up groom. Well done. I hadn't seen most of my friends from ski team for a good 3-4 years, so this was a perfect opportunity to get re-acquainted. And nothing helps the re-acquainting like copious amounts of booze.

Really, I was just holding her up. No one wants to see the bride drunkenly face plant.

There were some funny moments, like the limo getting lost, Vee and Jay in general, and the Wayne Newton impersonator DJ. But mostly it was just fun. There was lots and lots of dancing, which I whole-heartedly support. Also, it made me realize I don't see this group of friends nearly enough.

The Liz-Matt Wedding

One of my roommates from my senior year at Northwestern married. Matt met and dated Liz throughout that year we were living together, so again, it is fun to see a relationship that I witnessed the beginnings of end in marriage and not tears and restraining orders.

All together now, "Awwww." Now you can barf in your mouth.

I was a bridesmaid in this celebration, and the benevolent Liz allowed her bridesmaids to pick our own dresses, just so long as they were below the knee and black. I was one of very few (frighteningly few, actually) single people at this affair. All of my roommates from senior year are now either married or engaged. WTF? Not only that, but they seem to have a lot of paired up friends. No matter. I scouted out the dateless so that there was never a slow song that I didn't dance (though I don't really understand the two slow song in a row rule. I mean, admittedly, sometimes it is awesome because you get to cling to someone who, under other circumstances would run like hell from you, for an extra song, but sometimes, you are the one wanting to run like hell. You need a fast song so you can escape from their kung foo grip, but it doesn't come. This is actually one of the few occasions were I wasn't afraid to start a second dance with a partner I had, so way to go with the wedding guest selection).

Matt, me and Greg, each blaming the post-rehearsal dinner gas on others.

There was also a margarita bar (Dangerous. Dangerously delicious.) the electric slide (which might be one of my favorite dances in the world), "I like big butts" (which might be my favorite song to dance to inappropriately at weddings), Air fiddle to "The Devil went down to Georgia (I think)," kick as food combo of chicken AND steak (which later contributed to some seriously noxious dance floor odors) and the groom serenading his bride with Meatloaf (the artist, not the food). I would really like to tell you some funny stories about the wedding, but I feel like they would all come off as inside jokes, much funnier had you been there.

Caleb, me and Nemo. We are so good looking, it is a felony. Thankfully, Caleb is a lawyer.

All I can say is Liz looked resplendent (you really rarely get the opportunity to use a word like resplendent but I don't think there is a more perfect word) and I don't think I have ever seen Matt happier. It was a terrific event and I am so happy I got to participate.

While it is strange seeing more and more friends end up with wedding rings on their hands, I am pretty ok with it. Sure, I had to sleep on the sofa bed so Nemo and Carrie, husband and wife, could have an actual bed. Sure, at breakfast I was the odd number chair with everyone else having a partner next to them. But, I do get to keep my dance card open, I do get a bed to myself to sleep drunkenly in and I rarely have to consult with anyone else before making plans. Plus, wedding rings seem like awkward things to get used to, and I'm ok putting off the anxiety of losing one for awhile. Also, seeing old friends from college makes me super nostalgic, and not the least bit sentimental. Not to get to emotional on your asses, but I am really lucky when it comes to my friends. I have a lot, and they are all kick ass. More importantly, they are the type of friends you can not see for years and years and yet when you see them, you can jump back in like you haven't skipped a beat. That is a rare thing in life, and I know I hit the jack pot. Ok. Too much of a love fest right there.

Let this wash out the mental image of me hugging the world and sneezing rainbows.

Get your nails did.

2007-05-22T12:56:00.001-05:00

Two weeks ago, my friend, Marianna treated me to my first ever manicure as a birthday present. I think she is trying to give me the hint that it is high time I start acting like a lady. Why haven't I said anything about it until now? Well, it took two full weeks to really process what went down.

We went to Pinky, a cutely named nail place on Southport. We'd been planning this trip for some time now and I'd been worrying about it all along. Things I worried about:
1. Infection. I'm not convinced of the sterility of the tools they use and I really don't need a nail fungus to add to my growing list of fungal infections. Trust me, it's impressive.
2. Cuticle pushing. Creeps. Me. Out. I don't like the idea of people pushing anything back into my skin.
3. Pink. Places that choose a pink color scheme (or name, even if it is a cute play on words) generally freak me out, or at the very least, make me wary.

4. Pedicures. I probably need a pedicure, but I was really nervous about getting roped into a pedicure inadvertently while I was there. I'm just not mentally ready. All those feet. Bleh. I just threw up a little in my mouth just now imagining it.

This is what's going on inside all those pointy toe shoes.

5. Solely non-native English speakers serving me. It just makes me uncomfortable. They probably make great money but I feel uncomfortable getting pampered in a place where not one of the practitioners is local. Don't get me wrong. I love multiculturalism and if there had been an even mix between Asian, White, Black and Latin, I would have loved any one of them to slave over my nails. There was one Latina in the sea of Asians, so that helped my concerns, but still, something seems not right (don't get me started on the idea of a swath of foreigners hunched over attending to the corns on your feet!).

So, I faced these fears and received a very nice manicure. Suki worked on my nails, and man, could this woman file. I picked a lovely shade of white/beige so as to look as natural as possible. One of the "perks" of Pinky's is the "massage" you get while they do your nails. I use the word massage very loosely here because apparently, massage means to be punched by a 101 lbs woman. Literally. I was talking to Marianna when the massage portion started. It began innocently enough. Some gentle rubbing on my hands and forearms that felt very nice. Then, Suki made a fist and started pummeling me. I almost spit in Marianna's face, I wanted to laugh so hard. I could not keep a straight face to save my life. It hurt! Instead I just smiled at Suki. A smile that I hope said, "Oh my, that sure was relaxing" when it probably was saying something closer to "Bitch, I'm about to bruise your face like you just bruised my arm."

"Are you sure you don't want a happy ending?"

I have to say, my nails looked pretty awesome after they were done. I had successfully not bitten them for the three weeks leading up to this endeavor and it paid off. I looked VERY elegant. Actually, they didn't look like my hands at all. Those of you who know me know I have baby hands, but having my nails done really made my hands look more womanly. Or at the very least, pre-teeny. I can't say that I will every get a manicure again (pushing cuticles back DOES hurt) but it was an experience that I needed as a lady and I am grateful to Marianna for holding my hand (figuratively, I just had my nails done, man) through the whole process. Marianna also had a birthday not too too long ago for which I owe her a present. Let's just say her gift receiving trip will be in a whole other arena of things women like to do without men.

I'll give you a hint. It's not baking.

Lazy to the max.

2007-04-24T13:39:00.000-05:00

I am a lazy person. And far be it for me to judge others when I clearly have my own faults. However, I just witnessed such a display of laziness that even I, the girl who will hold her bladder for as long as possible at work because she doesn't like walking to the bathroom, was appalled. I got on the elevator at work and there were two plumbing guys already on. I was going to the eighth floor. They were trying to go to the 3rd floor, but for some reason the elevator wouldn't let them get off there. The button would not stay lit. So one of them pushes the second floor and says, " We can just get off on 2 and walk up." Then the other guy goes, "Yeah, we could, or we could get off at 4 and walk down." The first guy looks at the second guy, nods in agreement and presses 4. I checked and both of these men had full use of their legs. No limps. No canes. Super Mario was not a lazy plumber. Neither was Ron Jeremy.

I can understand if they hit 4 first. I can also understand if they were alone in the elevator and decided this was the best course of action. If I was alone I probably would have too. But I know for me, my embarrassment of my laziness usually springs me into action, especially if others are there to witness said laziness. But not these gentlemen. They had no problem stopping on an extra floor just so they could let gravity help them out as they walked down a flight of stairs. They unabashedly embraced their laziness, and maybe for that I should applaud them. Or maybe I should just be glad there are people out there who make me look like an Olympic athlete. I'm not yet sure.

I'm calling it Love.

2007-04-24T09:19:00.000-05:00

I have found what I have been searching for my entire life. It took awhile, but I always knew it was out there and I never really gave up hope that fate would bring us together. Now, I can't imagine life without it and hope I will never have to experience the dullness and un-fulfillment my life was before I had this. My beautiful friend Erin introduced us. And by "us" I mean me and the Vosges Barcelona Bar*. When I was in, you guessed it, Barcelona with Tina we had this dessert with a name called "Three textures of chocolate" or something like that. It was a chocolate cake with molten, gooey chocolate on the inside and chocolate shavings on the outside. However, there was another taste that was hard to identify and totally unfamiliar, especially paired with chocolate. It brought out the taste of the chocolate so strongly and complimented it so well, I couldn't believe I had never tasted it before. Tina and I reviewed the menu again and realized there was a tiny about amount of olive oil and salt drizzled over the cake. I know. I know it sounds disgusting. But I don't really think I have tasted anything that delicious in my life. So, I was telling Erin about this wonderful cake when she said, "Oh! Vosges has a candy bar called the Barcelona Bar. It has SALT in it!" Do they ever. This dream bar has milk chocolate, roasted nuts and rock salt in it. There isn't so much salt that it is overbearing, but just enough that every once and awhile your tongue comes across it and the stars collide creating the Big Bang of taste. People who know me will not be at all surprised that I love a candy bar with salt in it. But really, even for the non salt enthusiasts out there, this candy bar is a real treat. The downside? Um, it's $7! I KNOW! It nearly killed me to pay for it, but actually, I think it is better that it is so outrageously overpriced. If it where anything south of $5 I would buy one a day and that would not be good for anyone. A rescue crew would have to break into my apartment and find me asleep (or in a coma) on a bed of Barcelona Bar wrappers covered in chocolate, nuts and salt. When they tried to remove me I would stand up clutching my Barcelona Bar singing/screaming/crying Akon's "Don't Matter." So go out and splurge if you are at all interested in learning what an orgasm tastes like, however unaffordable that orgasm might be. Next best thing to chocolate covered salt? Chocolate covered Thom Yorke.

*Vosges also makes other candy bars besides the Barcelona Bar that seem almost as wonderful (The Calindia Bar, The Goji Bar, The Naga Bar and The d'Olivia Bar) but again, at 7 bucks a pop, I doubt I'll be trying them any time soon. That is unless Vosges wants to send me some free samples so that I can pimp them online. I'm ok with that.

Old and New

2007-04-13T16:29:00.000-05:00

I saw two great movies this week and thought I would share. The Gene Siskel Film Center was showing Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing. I'd never seen this movie before and must say, I really enjoyed it. I came away at the end feeling angry and confused, but it is the kind of movie you keep thinking about long after it is over. There was a Northwestern communications professor there leading a discussion, and before the movie she said that after the movie was made, the actor who played Sal, Danny Aiello, claimed Sal wasn't a racist, but the director, writer, actor, Spike Lee, claimed that he was. The character of Sal is pretty interesting and realistic, and I think a lot of that has to do with this discordance. Da Mayor, played by Ossie Davis was fun to watch, and right on the money. Currently I'm working on the moves from Rosie Perez' opening dance sequence. I was 8 when this movie came out, so clearly, I missed it the first time around. I'm glad I got to see it on the big screen. For those of you who also missed it, I highly recommend it.

Next I saw the movie The Host. Oh my. I doubt it will be in theaters much longer so you better go out and see it. It broke all kinds of box office records in South Korea and won several film festival awards. It is a South Korean monster movie that is dramatic and hilarious at the same time. Basically, the story revolves around a family who is fighting this mutated creature from the river in Korea. The characters in the family are so funny and lovable. I was totally captivated by the entire film. Also, there are some pretty satirical depictions of the United States that are amusing, scary and right on the mark. I don't want to say too much more about it, lest I give away any good parts, but I really think it is worth seeing.

Barcelona is for Llovers

2007-03-30T11:32:00.000-05:00

Today is the day that I tackle this blog. I have been feeling really anti-my blog lately, but I think it is passing. I guess since a month ago when I posted a cop out post about venereal disease, I have actually been pretty busy. For one, if you all didn't know, Steve Dahl read a portion of my blog on his show. It was horrifying and awesome at the same time. The highlight his commentary was when he said, "Hey Jenny, I got your Icelandic hot dog right over by here." I've been trying for awhile to embed this soundbite onto my site so you all can hear it, but, well, I don't know the first thing about that sort programming so it hasn't worked out so well. Maybe one day it will happen, but until then, use your imagination.

Way more exciting was my trip to Spain. Spain Spain Spain. I love Spain. I went to Barcelona and Salamanca with Tina (who kept a way better weblog of our trip on her site). It all began when Tina decided to run the marathon there and I took the opportunity to both cheer her on and return to Spain. Most of the time we were in Barcelona, which, next to Chicago, might be my favorite city in the world. Everything was sleek and stylish and hip and tasty and beautiful. The architecture there is directly from the freaky side of your imagination. It's Gothic meets Dali meets melting ice cream on a hot day meets fantasy. We stayed in the El Raval neighborhood which is hip and young and by the museum of contemporary art. I don't even know if I could begin to describe the restaurants. Sensual maybe. The food was out of this world good and the decor and atmosphere in the bars and dining establishments made you want to hunker down and live there for the next millennium. Everything was fantastic.

After Barcelona we went to Salamanca and a touch of Madrid. Salamanca was great and just how I remembered if from my study abroad experience. I saw my old roommate, Vanessa, who lives and studies there, as well as the Senora I stayed with. It was pretty funny seeing her, as she hadn't changed much and reminded me of this when she said, "You look so good. You look much skinnier and better than when you were last here. You hair looks so much better. You were fatter then." Thanks Pepa. It was great seeing Vanessa because she is one of my ultimate laughing partners. Being in Salamanca reminded me that I had forgotten the smell of the city. It is so distinct, and I hadn't smelled it since I left in 2001. It is a beautiful mixture jamon and pan (ham and bread). If I could bottle that smell and sell it, well, I probably wouldn't make any money, but I would be pretty happy.

Madrid stinks. Literally and figuratively. If you are going to Madrid, this is what you should see. The Reina Sofia, the Prado, the Palacio Real, the Plaza del Sol and that is it. The people aren't as nice, the food is not as good and it is more expensive and the ambiance sucks. Plus, someone cut the back of my purse and stole my passport, so that really sucked. I had to spend half a day at the embassy getting an emergency passport so I could get home. The good that came out of this, you may ask? I got a new passport picture to replace my old one where I had been compared to a butch, Canadian ice hockey player. I don't know if there is a more unflattering comparison possible. Overall, the trip was incredible, made even more so by the fact that I got to spend 10 days with my hetero-life mate, Tina. Laughing with her is one of my favorite activities and I got to do a lot of it on this trip.

In other news, well, there isn't much. I saw David Sedaris with my mom and friend, Stacey, on Easter. I love his essays. I had tears rolling down my eyes from laughter and my mom was wheezing, so that was a good sign. My brother was also in town this past week, along with another old friend from Spain, Jordan, along with her man. It was good having everyone visit. However, I am seriously behind on my Tivo and me and my couch have some alone time we need to spend with each other. I've been neglectful and I need to make up for it.

Mullet Lamp

2007-03-28T16:40:00.000-05:00

Lamp in the hostel I stayed at in Barcelona.

Coming Soon.

2007-03-23T13:16:00.000-05:00

My Trip to Spain.

VD

2007-02-14T15:35:00.000-06:00

Some VD's on V-Day

HPV

Herpes

Chlamydia

Gonorrhea

Syphilis

HIVReminding you to wrap it up. Happy Valentine's Day!

Heaven thy name is Margie

2007-01-31T09:25:00.000-06:00

Since you all responded so positively to the gluttony that is my Icelandic hot dog blog, I think I will devote yet another blog to food. Also, food gives me more enjoyment than it should, so it is all I can think to write about. I really wanted to do a photo blog documenting my trip to one of my new favorite places to eat in Chicago, but I didn't have my camera and frankly, I'm doing my best to not go back for at least a week. But I looked online and there were plenty of pictures representing just about everything I would have anyway (except a picture of me taking a large bite) so I think this will work.

I was out eating dinner with a friend the other night at a place that had no desserts. We were both craving something sweet so she said, "What about Margie's? Have you ever been there?" I have passed Margie's a million times and always wonder about it, but never stop in. She said, "You just have to go. You are going to love it."

You know when you see something from the outside, or hear about something and build up a picture of that thing in your head an it turns out it looks completely different? For example, I always have a picture in my head of what radio personalities (I enjoy the expression "radio personality" because it really sums up the experience of listening to someone on the radio, especially a talk show host. Because of the fact that you can't see them, it is their winning personality that hooks you. Just like a fat, witty girl.) look like and they very rarely look as I picture them, with the one exception being Ira Glass who looked EXACTLY as I pictured him. I've stopped looking because I'm always disappointed. I had a crush in high school on Steve Dahl until I realized he was in his fifties and looked like this. Not to say he doesn't have his own boyish good looks, but just not what I had expected, and not appropriate for a 16 year old. I had to take a 6 year sabbatical from listening to him to recover from the shock. (The addendum to this story is I have since developed fairly substantial crushes on his sons who are my age-ish, one of which went to Northwestern, my alma mater, not that I met him. Those crushes started spiraling out of control so I pretty much had to stop listening to Steve Dahl for awhile. I realized it is time to stop when you start fantasizing about Steve Dahl as your father-in-law. Really, I'm not crazy, I just have a colorful imagination.) So that was a pretty big tangent to illustrate a point. Margie's looked nothing like what I had expected. This place escaped every decade since the 1950's without alteration. The vinyl beige booths are probably still the same. The individual jukeboxes at every table, which I assume don't work, are still there. The needle point pictures of flowers adorning the wood paneling are still the same. My friend told me, "It's not kitschy. It's not hip. It's authentic." I couldn't have said it better myself.

We looked over their sizable menu of ice cream options before I settled on the Banana Split. Fudge was a must so I went with the three scooper that clearly indicated it had fudge. When I ordered, our stereotypically-Chicago-adorable-beyond-belief waitress indicated that I might want to get the banana split that just had the two scoops. I had considered that option, but as it didn't specify that it had fudge, I had moved on. Normally there is nothing I can't stand more than a waitress suggesting I am eating too much. However, after a quick sneer, I realized I like this woman's salt and pepper hair and I don't think she is judging me, so I won't insist on eating three scoops just to prove a point. I asked if the two scooper had fudge, which it did, so all was good.

Individual orgasms in each of my taste buds would not have been as wonderful as eating this ice cream. The fudge, was "kettle heated" and on the side and was thick and silky and glorious. It was the best and biggest two scoop banana split I have ever had and it was only $3.95. Cold Stone can suck my ass with their $5 mini scoops of nothing. I really don't know how I existed before I knew about this place, or how I lived in Chicago for so long without anyone telling me about it. I promise next time I go back to take my own photos to share with you all. Until then, may you have hot fudge like Margie's incorporated into every dream.

Icelandic Hot Dog: The Journey

2007-01-17T11:37:00.000-06:00

Back in May of 2005 I traveled to Iceland. You may have read about it or seen it. Well, among the many new experiences I had there, one of the best was the Icelandic Hot Dog. My friend Michelle recently returned from there and she brought back not only the Icelandic hot dog, but ALL the condiments. While I'm not sure there is a strong enough word to describe my joy, elated comes pretty close. The other night I decided to treat myself to the wonder that is Icelandic Hot Dogs.
1. Ingredients; buns, chopped onions,

Plysusinnep,
Remoladi, Hamborgara sosa, fried onions and Vinar Plysur, aka Fuckin' great hot dogs!

Now, I am not claiming that this is the "official" way to prepare Icelandic hot dogs. These are all the correct ingredients, but my order may be off. However, it all mixes together in the end. A delicious, hot doggy end.
First, delicately place the raw onions on the bun (If you like, you can toast your buns). Next, tenderly lay the hot dog on it's oniony, bready bed.

Then add the Plysusinnep on top of the dog. You can use as much or as little as you'd like.
Next, add Remoladi (which is like a mayonaissy relish) on top.Out comes the Hamborgara sosa for a nice coating. The colors of these sauces might not be the most appetizing, but trust me, it's worth it.
Cover the sauces with a thick layer of fried onions. You can most likely make these yourself, but I was given a bag of fried goodness to use.
I like to eat my hot dogs with beer. Probably you can eat your hot dogs with whatever beverage you prefer.Finally take a delicious, gigantic bite. Don't sit on the good furniture when you eat this concoction, it is messy. Just think of every bit of messiness that falls from your hot dog onto the plate as a wonderful treat for when you are done with your hot dog and wanting more. At least, that's how I do.
Can't you see the enjoyment, nay, elation on my face? I'm high on hot dog. There really isn't a better hot dog experience out there. I HIGHLY suggest hopping on a plane to Iceland to try it out. If you aren't sold on the "going to Iceland for the authentic Icelandic hot dog experience" idea, you can buy all you need right here. There are a number of other Icelandic goods that you can get from there, but trust me, you want to start with the hot dogs. The rotten shark is really not for everyone.

PS. I did some REALLY interesting things with Sloppy Joe's last night. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.

Occupying time

2007-01-11T10:37:00.000-06:00

Because my life consists of barely waking up, going to work, checking my mail for medical school news and watching everything on my Tivo, I decided to take up a few activities to fill my time. Cleaning is the most important one and probably the one that will see the smallest playing time. My apartment is a disaster and it is about time I got my life in order. I need to get rid of a lot of crap, but I also need to be more diligent about cleaning in general. More than once I've had people (people who know me well, I might add) come into my apartment, glance around and ask me in all seriousness, "Are you depressed?" If that is what my apartment is saying about me I need to seriously reconsider either my mental health or my design scheme.

I've started doing more knitting. This either makes me an old woman who is in the market for cats or a trendy hipster who is on her way to knitting a blanket that will cover the world in peace and love. I made my first real hat (the first attempt ended up looking like something Marylou Who would wear) over Christmas and it wasn't half bad. I am attempting another hat with some interesting accoutrements so we will see how that goes.
Lastly, I have decided it is time for me to become familiar with my kitchen. It's never been so much that I can't cook, but more that I have a secret (or not so secret if you've ever ridden in my car) love affair with McDonalds and I am lazy. As I drive home from work, McDonalds starts its siren song and I am lured in. But since the new year, I have successfully (except for 2 minor indiscretions) avoided McDonalds and feasted on my own creations at home. Now, for the most part, "my own creations" means macaroni and cheese, sloppy joes or a can of soup. Not necessarily rocket science, though their deliciousness quotiant cannot be ignored. But last night I figured it was high time to bring out my crock pot and go to town. Crock pots are the most wonderful things because it is virtually impossible to mess up your food in them. They cook everything beautifully. You just throw in a few ingredients in the morning, turn it on and then voila, you have a home cooked meal for when you get home at night. I made Coq Au Vin last night for my friends Caleb and Shannon. Caleb has meat and cheese restrictions (!!) so chicken was the clear choice. The only thing that would have made this meal perfection would have been the addition of goat cheese, but then again, what meal without goat cheese could ever reach perfection? I'm pretty impressed with myself, to say the least. Meals for the upcoming days include: Icelandic hot dogs (they are lamb) with all the Icelandic trimmings (Michelle just returned from their and brought back some goodies), beer cheese soup and chicken pot pie with cornbread topping. I cannot wait.

10,006*

2007-01-08T10:28:00.000-06:00

This weekend marked the ten thousandth visit to my website. I only wish I knew exactly who it was because there might be a t-shirt in it for them. A t-shirt with a big picture of my face giving two thumbs up to their impeccable timing and breathe-taking good looks. It only took 2 years for it to happen, but happen it did. If my mother actually read this blog I would shove it in her face that people DO want to know about the most trivial details of my life, 10,000 times. In all actuality it is more like 10 visitors who are either:
1. People who know me personally and are obsessed with reading blogs, no matter how stupid (thanks guys.)
2. People who are sent here by blogger against their will
3. People who are referred here by dear, dear friends who have taken pity on me and linked to this website.
4. People who are searching for bestiality porn (I don't know why alljenny leads them to this but it does and also, do you have to say bestiality porn or can you just say bestiality and the porn is implied?)
5. People who are searching for some derivation of the word "poop."

All the same, I love you all and hope you continue to keep reading.

I wish I had a funny anecdote to commemorate this day. I had a great weekend, but nothing extraordinarily funny happened. Actually, a few things funny happened, but believe it or not, I'm not going to share them so they can be read 10,000 more times. A girl must keep some mystery about her.

* The 10,006 is the number on my counter I first saw when I noticed I'd reached 10,000. The 6 really gives me crediblity because it suggests 10,000 wasn't just a fluke.

Nine gay guys and a partridge in a pear tree

2007-01-02T13:54:00.000-06:00

This holiday season has treated me nicely and provided me with a few things I'd like to share.

Before Christmas, I returned to my apartment to find Landlady waiting anxiously by the door to the building. I walked in, said hello and moved to my mailboxes. I asked her if anything was wrong and she told me that she found some suspicious people in the building, had asked them to leave and then called the police, who she was waiting for. She said she went in the elevator with them just to make sure they were leaving. At this point, she says they started saying, "motherfucker this, and cunt that." There are few things more hilarious than a 70 year old woman telling you how she was called a cunt. Or just a 70 year old saying the word cunt. It never gets old. (also, another story is via my father who said, as we were driving on Paulina to dinner, "there are three streets in Chicago that rhyme with vagina. Paulina, Molina (which, to my knowledge is not a street) and Rant." I looked at him laughing, understood where this joke was going and said, " you mean, Lunt?" He laughed a little more and said, "right, Lunt." My brother didn't quite get it at first, so I said, "Lunt...Cunt...get it." David looked at me, appalled and said, "I can't believe you just said cunt in front of our parents." I didn't start it.) So the police come, I leave. I call Landlady later to check that everything was ok. She starts on about how she is old and is a "ballsy old broad" and how she has become this way with age (which I highly doubt). She says to me, verbatim, "There is this old proverb that I just made up that states..." It isn't important what the old proverb she made up states. It is more important to acknowledge Landlady for the philosopher that she is.

In other Landlady news, I saw her after christmas with my brother. I asked her how she was to which she responded, "I've been hung over for 5 days. The doctor says it is because of my GERD." I said, "So you had a good time over Christmas?" She says, "Good time? I ended up passed out on the floor with nine gays guys and my dog on top of me." Good time indeed.

I spent some quality time with several of my friends this holiday season. Rud made a pit stop in Elgin which included empanadas was capped off with a beer at Dutch Inn West. Wow. I'd never been before. I always thought it was a place where old dudes sat and drank beer all day, like Moe's on the Simpsons. I wasn't far off. But there were also a lot of young, really drunk people there too. Also, there are hipsters in Elgin. Who knew? Rud was sporting some SERIOUS chops. As a huge fan of facial hair I give it two thumbs way up. It was an awesome time. I hung out with Didi and Adolphus and some old high school folks as well. The lawyer to non lawyer ratio at the table was 1:1 which is downright scary. However, I'm sure some time in my life I will run into a situation where legal advice is needed, so it is good to know I can get a first, second, third through 100th opinion on whatever my situation might be. At one point over dinner we were having a conversation about flashing, or poop or waxing and Erin said, "I think we had this same conversation seven years ago." There is a part of me that likes to see how old friends have changed, but there is also that part of me that feels good knowing some things never change.

More than anything, I watched a shit ton of TV. I watched the entire first season of Extras and the Ali G show, both of which are hilarious. I'm not sure, but I think I might be developing a bit of a crush on Ricky Gervais. My crush for Sacha Baron Cohen was cemented some time ago so these recent Ali G episodes really only fueled the fire. Also, I watched Wayne's World, Ghostbusters, Who framed Roger Rabbit and Groundhog Day. What I learned from these movies is 1. Cars looked funny in the 80's and early 90's. I can't wait to see what cars of the future look like. 2. Bill Murray is a stud. 3. Wayne's World introduced me to a lot of rock songs that to this day take me back to Aurora, IL when I hear them. I also watched Night at the Museum, Notes on a Scandal, Thank you for Smoking and Little Miss Sunshine. These movies taught me much less about myself except that I LOVE Little Miss Sunshine. (Don't even try and log the number of hours it would require to watch this much TV because first, you will be baffled at how a living, breathing person can sit on her ass for that long and then you will realize you have grossly underestimated the number because I am not even including the fact that I watched 50 First Dates 3 times, simply because it was on.)

I did not make New Year's resolutions. I have in the past and not one of them has come to fruition. Sure I'd like to lose weight and exercise more. I'd also like to shower more frequently and blow dry my hair more often. I could also try keeping my apartment from looking like a mentally ill person lives there and taking more public transportation. But saying that I'm going to do these things and actually doing them are two VERY different things. So why start the year off on a note of pending disappointment. If I accomplish any of these things I will be pleasantly suprised. Instead, I made a New Year's wish. It is like a birthday wish when you blow out the candles, but only more powerful because you have the weight of the earth's rotation thrusting it into being. I'll let you know if the thrust was strong enough by Dec. 31st 2007 at the latest.

I think that is most of what I wanted to say to you all. If there is more, I will use it for another blog entry, hopefully in the not so distant future. That could have been another resolution, blogging more, but I'm pretty sure I made that one last year and hopped on the disappointment train early. Let's try something new this year, shall we?

Keep it to yourself

2006-12-04T22:01:00.000-06:00

Today was my lab final and per usual, I was outside the classroom before class, reviewing my notes. It has been a bit cold here lately, and I was still thawing from my walk over to the building. I had my coat on, all buttoned up and I had a scarf around my neck too. It wasn't hanging loosely, but wrapped delicately around my neck. I was talking with my lab partner about one of the experiments when I hear "Hey grandma" next to me. I wasn't really listening, so I just ignored it and continued reading off my page. Then I hear again, "Grandma. Hey, grandma." Now I think to myself, 'I know this moron next to me is talking to me, but I'll be damned if I acknowledge him.' One more time, "Grandma, hey you." My lab partner looks at me and goes, " he's talking to you." I look at my lab partner, then down at my page and coolly say loud enough for him to hear, "Perhaps, but I know he doesn't think he is gonna call me grandma and have me respond to that." I even did a head bob/wave thing for emphasis. The kid chuckles, says sorry, then asks me some dumb question from lab. Here's the thing. I don't know this kid. I don't know his name, and won't know him from Adam except for the fact that he has been in my lab for the last semester. Our first words were exchanged last week when he discovered I was a post bac and 25. He seemed astonished. How is someone gonna say to a stranger with whom he has no rapport, "hey grandma." I don't know if it was because he knew I was older or because I was bundled up like old auntie Sadie, but apparently, something about me was screaming grandma. What is it about me that makes people feel free to say to me whatever stupid thing pops in their head? Do I look like I am asking to be insulted by strangers? Perhaps. Just in case you were having trouble picturing my 25 year old granny ass self, I've included a picture. Actually, I am frightened by how easily my grandma pose came. Perhaps this fool was on to something.

Thanksgivingness

2006-11-23T22:36:00.000-06:00

It's Thanksgiving, my favorite of all holidays. I love it because the basic requirements of Thanksgiving are few and simple. 1. Eat a lot of food. Turkey is a must, unless you are a crazy vegetarian. Also, all things carbohydrate are required. Alcohol consumption, while not mandatory, should be encouraged. 2. Spend time with people you love. This can be family. This can be friends. This can be strangers that you take a liking to immediately. These are the only tenets of Thanksgiving and therefore the opportunity to enjoy oneself is maximized. Also on Thanksgiving, I think it is important to take stock of one's life and give thanks. This doesn't have to be public and it doesn't have to be to god, but I think it is important to at least reflect and acknowledge the good things you've got going on. Usually, I choose to be private about this endeavor but this year I'll share a few of the things I am thankful for.

Thanks. In no particular order.
1. My family. I am lucky to have a family whose company I truly enjoy. We may not be large in number, but we are large in affection. I get along with my family in a way many people dream of. Many times, I would choose to spend time with them over doing anything else and for that I am thankful.

2. My friends. I've realized that I have friends from every period in my life. I haven't always been as diligent in keeping in touch with them, but for some reason or other they have stuck with me and not because I pay them. They are all pretty different from one another, but they all share one or more personality trait in common with me and it usually involves laughing. I am really lucky to have such a large group of people I love and who I assume love me back.

3. A pretty good brain. This might sound egotistical, but I feel like I have a good mind. It is not the best. I don't learn many things easily but I am able to understand many things over time. I don't suffer from mental illness and degradation has not yet started (at least as far as I can tell). My brain has taken me pretty far in life and I look forward to the many new things me and my brain will accomplish in the future.

4. My health. I'm rarely sick. I have no major diseases or lapses in health other than the occasional fainting spell (which is due to my sensitive disposition and not a weakness in character). I also have pretty awesome genes working in my favor. I'm not saying I'll never get sick, but so far my body has held up incredibly, especially considering I've done very little to maintain it other than eat gynormous amounts of food.

5. Good TV shows. This might sound trivial, but TV is one of the few things that helps me relax. My mind can be in all sorts of places, but when I sit down in front of the TV I really zone out and forget about my issues, even if only temporarily. Programs I particularly enjoy are The Office, 2 and a Half Men, America's Next Top Model, Scrubs, My Name is Earl and House. There are others I watch less frequently. If I'm in the mood for a good cry I can always rely on Extreme Home Makeover. If I want to laugh out loud America's Funniest Home Videos is my automatic go to.

6. My job. I don't always love my job. In fact, many times I am bored out of my mind. However I am thankful to have a job and I am thankful to have a job that most of the time I enjoy. I like the people I work with, both co-workers and clients and I like the subject matter. My work has taught me a lot about the "real world" and I think I'd be a much more naive person if I hadn't held it.

7. My sense of self. Again, another egotistical sounding thanking point, but I am pretty comfortable in my own skin and I think that is something to be happy about. I certainly have my insecurities, but more often than not I am really happy with the person I am. Whether it is a blessing or just good luck, I don't know, but I am glad I like me.

8. Being a woman. There are many times I am frustrated with my sex. However, if I ever had to choose, I would always pick being a chick. Maybe it is because I still have a profound lack of understanding of men, but I appreciate all the things being a member of the fairer sex affords me. I particularly I enjoy the understanding that leaving urine all over the toilet is a pretty gross thing to do, especially in one's own home.

9. Dance. Without dancing I would be a lot less happy than I am. Many people have witnessed my dance outbursts, though most of my practice happens in the privacy of my own home. Currently I am working on the Chicken Noodle Soup dance and the Crip Step. I'll never be the best, but there is something about pumping up the volume to Safety Dance by Men Without Hats or Missy Elliot's Work It that just fills me with glee and energy every single time.

10. Goat cheese. Alright, this one is a little more specific than the last 9 but my life would be a whole lot less wonderful without goat cheese. Granted, I'd be about 15 pounds lighter, but I'm convinced that this particular 15 pounds gives me my jolly, goat cheese induced spirit. Other than Sloppy Joes, a finer food has never been created.

11. Gravity. Sure it keeps us from floating into the atmosphere, but more importantly, it makes people fall down. Maybe I shouldn't end my list on a mean spirited note but watching people fall, especially when they are not hurt badly, is the funniest thing to watch on the planet. I'm sorry if I've ever laughed at any of you when you've fallen, but know I do it out of love and that if you needed a ride to the emergency room I'd be the first one to offer. Also, if I EVER fall in front of you, please, PLEASE laugh, because I will always know where you are coming from. When gravity works against us it is just plain hilarious.

So those are some of the things I am thankful for this year. Obviously this list is abbreviated but you get the picture. I would love to hear some of the things you all are thankful for as well. I hope the holiday finds you all happy and healthy and dancing in your underwear in front of your mirror at night. Happy Thanksgiving.

To be young again

2006-11-05T11:08:00.000-06:00

I had dinner last night with some long time friends. Alexis, Erin, Lindsay, Marianna and I all went to middle school and high school together. It is fun to get together with them because it reminds me of the times when you could be totally ridiculous and hyper without the aid of alcohol (though admittedly, alcohol was often times involved). The pictures I am sharing with you are after only approximately one margarita, so our foolishness cannot be attributed to the sauce. Don't you remember when you were younger and you would start laughing hysterically with a friend over absolutely nothing? I have memories with each one of these ladies doing just that, and when I see them now, I am reminded of those days. As I get older, I find fewer and fewer friends who I can just be stupid with and who will laugh along with me. When you do find those types of friends, it is like finding a soul mate because they are amused by the same dumb shit as you are. A really good way to bring out these hysterics is pictures and video. When we were younger, we would all get together and make these ridiculous, sugar high infused videos. I still crack up when I watch these because you can feel the giddiness oozing off the screen. When I went to Spain for study abroad I met a few "soul mate" friends and whenever we would get our pictures back from being developed, we would look at them and laugh over every picture. Laugh is actually the wrong word because it describes something much more restrained than what we were actually doing. Digital cameras are just the right medium for producing immediate hilarity, and last night we used this technology to our advantage. These are just a few of the ridiculous photos we took. I'm also including some normal pictures of these ladies to prove they are not as freakish as they appear in some pictures. Still, it is fun. I hope it translates to a wider audience, though probably not. This is more likely one of those, "you had to be there" moments, so just indulge me.

Blonde Halloween

2006-11-01T17:46:00.000-06:00

Happy Halloween!

3-D life

2006-10-27T11:28:00.000-05:00

I LOVE 3-D! Really, any movie in 3-D just rulez. That is right, I spelled rulez with a z because that is how awesome 3-D is. I went to see a movie with my friend Michelle's daughter. She is five, so there are limits to what you can see, though admittedly, she is much braver than I am when it comes to scary movies, so I really place my own restrictions on what I see. Anyway, I thought we could see the movie Open Season. I noticed Open Season was playing at the IMAX in 3-D and really, the choice was made right then and there. IMAX is usually pretty awesome, but IMAX in 3-D just is an adventure the entire time. Sitting there with my gigantore 3-D glasses on took me back to when I was little and in Orlando, Florida and my parents took me to see a 3-D movie with Michael Jackson, Captain EO*. Somehow, I bet there are a lot of you readers out there who have seen this movie. It blew me away, especially when the little robots are flying at you. I remember how enchanted I was by the special effects and only hope that this kid felt the same way. Open Season was actually pretty funny, and because there were poop jokes, there were several points at which I was laughing out loud. Maybe the poop jokes were over the kids' heads (there was a song about flatulence and I pretty much lost it) because my laughter was not surrounded by little kid laughter. It was actually a little embarrassing to have the other adults with kids there notice my juvenile sense of humor, but it was funny. There was a preview for 3-D Dinosaurs, which I FOR SURE won't miss. Also, A Nightmare before Christmas is being re-released in 3-D and you better believe I'll be there for that. If I could have written this blog in 3-D, I would have, just so I could convey how cool it is. I really want to see Captain EO now that I think about it because maybe there were poop jokes in it that I missed as a kid. That would be a shame to miss, really.

* I just read the description of Captain EO and apparentlly I really don't remember much of the movie at all. Angelica Houston was in it? The story line sounds pretty pathetic if you ask me, and I'm pretty sure there were no hidden poop jokes. It doesn't seem like Francis Cord Coppola's style.

Chicken Shack with a Suitcase.*

2006-10-20T18:20:00.000-05:00

Enough time has gone by that I can adequately reflect and relay my trip to New York. I'll be honest. Something about New York has always rubbed me the wrong way. It just annoys me and I really have wanted nothing to do with it. I still feel this way for the most part. However, I really enjoy Brooklyn. What a cool area. That is where my brother lives. He teaches in New York and I went to spend a long weekend with him. This is what we did.
On Saturday we went shopping in Park Slope, went to a farmer's market, went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden (where there was a strange man take pictures of the creepiest doll ever) and went to Manhattan to see a play called Avenue Q and ate there as well. Avenue Q is a pretty hilarious show. Neither my brother nor myself are huge musical lovers, but this show, what with its songs about the internet being for porn, everyone being racist and having no skills after college, coupled with a touch of puppet sex, well, let's just say this show was right up our alley. Sunday we went to this restaurant Rice where we split coconut french toast and eggs benedict with pork tenderloin. So good. We then went to see the movie the Science of Sleep with Gael Garcia Bernal. sigh. Freaky ass movie, but good if you like Michel Gondry films. We then walked across the brooklyn bridge into Manhattan. We ate at some restaurant called Edwards with David's friends and saw Christopher from the Sopranos. Monday we drove down to Coney Island and went to the Aquarium and ate some Nathan's hotdogs. We drove back, did some more shopping in Williamsburg then went to Junior's for dinner and cheese cake. Tuesday, I went with David to his school to talk to his classes about college, my job and HIV prevention. Personally, I don't know how my brother does it. The kids were cool and all, but keeping a class of high schoolers under control is no easy task and let's just say these kids were gifted at the art of not listening. Overall, I had a wonderful time. I know this is more of a play by play of my trip and less of the reflection I promised, so sue me. It was rad and I can't wait to go visit again.

* The title of this post can be attributed to my friend David (not my brother) who, upon hearing I was going out of town yet again called me and said, "Weeellll chicken shack with a suitcase, off again." I still don't really understand what it means, except the suitcase is meant to indicate travel. David is weird, but secretly, I kinda like the name.

Also, I know the format of this sucks and it is hard to read, but I really wanted to include all these pictures and blogger does not have the best tools for this. So sorry.