Retroactive...

I have been blog absent the last few days and I apologize. Blame it on the 40 people in my house for my Christmas party. Blame it on having to write an end of the year performance evaluation. Blame it on the basso nova. My brain was fried and I was without anything witty to say. Thus, this entry is just random things that have happened to me or popped into my head in the last week. (In no particular order).

Every time you utter the phrase, “I am done with all my Christmas shopping,” you realize you have one more present to buy.

I finished my Christmas cards this week. In a few of them, I really wanted to write a “Sorry you spouse cheated on you and is slowly and painfully breaking up the family; hope you have a Merry Christmas anyway card.” Pretty sure my Italian Aunt would have killed me, then died of heartbreak, all while my grandmother was rolling over in her grave. Still, I really wish I had the nerve to send it.

Non-repliers. Annoying. One of my biggest pet peeves in the non-responder to email. I’m not talking about the jokes that have been forwarded – because responding to those would get annoying. I am talking about actual notes that people write. I think it is rude to blow them off.

Side Note - I started this entry on December 20 - why I didn't finish it, I have no idea. I am changing the date and posting it. I am playing catch up big time. A few more entries and my absence will make sense - I promise.

Just Call Me Angel In the Morning

Again, another entry started and never finished. What was that they say about the road to hell?

So the rush of the holidays is over and my sister and I are sitting in the "guest" room getting ready to go shopping. Yeah, we are those people. We like to shop the day after Thanksgiving and the day after Christmas. (Actually, I think my sister would shop any day of the year!)

Christmas was a lot of fun - and that is the understatement of the century. My sister picked me up on Saturday and we ran a few errands on our way to my parents. We got there and I was a one-woman Christmas organization machine. My mom was stressing out (a family tradition) and we kept having to remind her that this was Christmas Eve-Eve. We all showered and dressed for church - yes, my mom insisted that we double dip and go twice this weekend. We were running a bit late (okay, twenty minutes late), but we wanted to leave straight from church to go downtown. 20 minutes by Catholic standards is bad, but not horrible. In a holiday season, it is usually at the 2nd reading or so. Maybe the Gospel, but nothing more. My church rule is if we see parts of both halves of the mass, you are good to go. Well, wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles (and after I got finished saying, "wouldn't it be funny, if mass was half over?"), we walked in at the consecration. Mom was not too happy with us.

After church, we headed downtown. We stopped at Chriskindlemartket, which lost a little bit of its luster this year. I don't know why, but there was something missing. It might have had something to do with the woman refusing to sell me the souvenir mug - the one that I buy every year to commemorate the trip to the market. She was worried about selling out of the Glogg. Really? I have had the Glogg there and I wouldn't have worried.

We went to Macy's to see the tree and look at the windows. I will say that the tree was as beautiful as is every year. The windows were nice. The inside of the store looks like a glorified Target. Macy's has a long way to go to impress me - at least when it comes to their State Street Store.

After dinner, my dad let me drive home - a rarity for me these days. I can wholeheartedly say that I learned two things that night: I am not good with SUV's and you should never take an SUV (when you are not good at them) in the Express Lanes. I was glad to get home.

Christmas Eve was lovely - all my favorite foods. Christmas Morning was amazing. I got a video Ipod, which was not anything I thought I would get. It was a true and wonderful surprise. I love it. I loved watching my dad in his robe in the living room playing with the radio controlled helicopter we bought him. (Sorry Mom). I loved that my mom and sister liked their presents - though given the extravagance of my gift, I wish I had gone overboard for them.

All in all, it was a perfect few days. I am excited to get my shopping shoes on and hit the sales racks...

All I Want for Christmas Is You (and a Few Inches of Snow)

Last weekend was my Christmas party and it was beyond fun. It is the one time around the holidays where my friends all gather (outside the bar) and we are festive and merry. We all dress up in our holiday best(and by that I mean, guys were jeans and perhaps a nicer shirt and the girls invoke silvers and reds and shimmery colors)and enjoy winter cocktails. We had a white elephant (which gets better/worse by the year). It is the party that everyone wants to be at - and I am not saying that because it is at my house - I am saying that because we are all bar people and it is the night that many take off and instead of serving, we are sipping and enjoying. That is a rare treat in the Thanksgiving to New Year's holiday bonanza.

The one thing missing from the Christmas Party this year was Mistletoe. Weird, I know, but every year I buy Mistletoe and hang it in my doorframes. It is something that my mom always did when we were younger and it is a tradition that stuck with me. It doesn't really matter, because this party isn't really a hooking up kind of event, but still, I think the Mistletoe adds the hint of promise. Mistletoe always seemed to evoke the magic of Christmas.

I know that no one but me knew that it was missing, but I missed having that speculation of all that is to come. In hind sight, I wished that I had remembered it.

And You Give Yourself Away

This is going to be a quick one, as there are a 101 other things I should be doing with my time. I just wanted to take a moment and kvetch about one of my biggest pet peeves....

Okay. Hilarious. I started this blog last week and apparently, I really did have 101 things going on, because it stopped right there. Sheesh. Now I just have to narrow it down and try and remember my biggest pet peeve.

Couldn't have been that big, since I am drawing a blank. I will say that I am getting annoyed with people's unfounded insecurity, people who butt their nose into things and make snap judgements without any information, people who are rude in the holiday season and the general ickiness of the rain that keeps falling in Chicago. It is putting a damper on my Christmas season.

All I want for Christmas is World Peace; My friends and family to enjoy the gifts that I am giving them; a little bit of snow; and the general decency of humanity to come out.

Oh, and I want to ride the holiday L, because while I agree with Jenny that a holiday bus might be a bit too much, I think the CTA owes all of Chicago a ride on the Santa L. I want a little Christmas caroling and a candy cane, especially if it is going to go through slow zones for the 100th time this year.

PS I think this is an ironic title. I was going for something with it - I just know it.

In The Next Room

This one is a quick post. I am obsessed in a big-hair-loving kind of way with the Lips Of An Angel by Hinder. Love it and all its Monster Ballad beauty.

What I want to know is if you think you are the girl in the next room or the one on the phone? And Why?!?

Baby, It's (not so) Cold Outside

Aside from watching the Chi-town Bears play MNF (I heart Devin Hester) last night, I am in full Christmas party prep mode this week. I will say that while I hate all the cleaning and organizing (dusting and shoving things under my bed), I love this party. I look forward to this party.

In all honesty, I look forward to Christmas. I love having my Advent wreath and calendar (as any good Catholic girl does). I love St. Nicholas day and the little present my aunt gives us every year. I love buying a tree and decorating my house – down to putting up my Christmas dishes, putting out my Christmas towels and hanging Mistletoe in the doorframes in the hopes that one year it will actually work).

I love baking cookies and breads. I love having the place smell of pine and berries. I love the cold chill and a fresh snow on the ground. I love the craziness of Christmas shopping and striving to find each friend and family member the perfect gift. I love getting together with family on Christmas Eve. I love the meal we eat (well, not all 7 of the fish) and I love that we have desserts and a cordial of amaretto. I love Midnight Mass, the caroling before it, presents and pizza afterwards and going to bed too late.

I love Christmas morning, my mom’s date nut bread and opening presents with my family. I love the fresh start Christmas seems to bring. I love the sense of family and hope and love and peace. I love the magic and miracle of Christmas. I love believing that there is a Santa Claus and that George Bailey is the richest man in town. I love the beauty of Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree. In short, I love everything about Christmas.

Of All the Gin Joints in All the Towns in All the World

Last night, I ran into 'the guy' on my home turf. Which is a bit odd, since in the years that it has been my home turf, I have never seen him there before. Then again, I wasn't looking for him then. I am not sure what the chance (or not so chance encounter means), but it intrigues me.

Regardless of how this plays out, it was nice to meet someone who actually saw me and not through me. To have someone get me that quickly was refreshing. It makes me glad to be a single-in-the-city. To have had that moment and the chance to see the potential of it all.

Sometimes, people worry about the single girl. (Count the number of times your relatives ask you (the single girl) when you are getting married or having kids...or my favorite, ‘is there someone special in your life?’)

People wonder about the single girl. They wonder if she is a jaded, angry She-man. Or, if she is the bar-hopping, easy girl (typically, Sex and the City is blamed for this descriptor). If she is crazy or damaged or clingy. They look at the single girl and wonder why she is still single.

Well, the answer is simple: Because. She is single because she is. Some of us are jaded and angry. Some of us are a bit on the promiscuous side. Some are crazy and damaged. Some are clingy. Some focus on majoring in our M.R.S. and some run in the other direction.

I like to think that the single girl is single, because she refuses to settle for less than the fairy tale. And I don’t mean the Little Mermaid. (Because, if you read the real version of that story, she doesn’t end up getting what she wants. She dies. Who wants to strive for that?) I mean, her version of the fairy tale – whatever that may be.

My version of the fairy tale is to meet my ‘split apart'. The person that knows me without having to think and who makes me want to be a better person. It is the person who challenges me. Intellectually. Spiritually. Emotionally. Physically. I don’t want to go through life with anything less than that. Is it lofty and idealistic? Yes. But, to quote one of my favorite (little known) movies – Dream for an Insomniac – “There are too many mediocre things in life to deal with and love shouldn't be one of them.”

There's Never a Wish Better Than This

My friend Jen wrote about the new TBS show, "My Boys," and I have to concur with her on its addictiveness. I love it for the Chi-Town references. I love that the guys in the show remind me of my own guy friends. Selfishly, I would like to believe that the heroine in the show is a bit of a blend of all my girl friends.

I mean, really, PJ has the best life. She goes to work at Wrigley every day - which has been my life long dream. She covers the Cubs, drinks beer, hangs out at a tavern with board games and red and white checked tablecloths and mocks the clubby bar she gets dragged to in one of the episodes. She is the everywoman for the sports-minded, Chicago single girl. I realize it is a TBS show and that may be off-putting, but it is funny and entertaining and has great Chicago shout outs that only city folk will catch.

Incidentally, and I am bummed that I didn't put two and two together when this happened, I inadvertently attended a post show party. Those of you that know me, know the tavern I call home. If you have seen the shows and noticed similarities between my bar home and PJ's, it is no mistake. That pub was modeled after mine.

I know this because there were several cast members (again I realize this in hindsight) at my tavern celebrating wrapping up shooting. At the time, we all only knew that they were filming something that was based on my tavern. Of course, all of us thought this was weird, since they hadn't really asked many of us about the bar and how could they base it on our bar and not want to talk to the regulars and employees?!? Well, they did and did a pretty good job at that. I laughed out loud at the episode where the shy-guy friend kept playing jenga. It was just another regular Friday night at my bar.

That being said, I can say that I was there when it all started. I just wish I had known that at the time.

On a side note, I just noticed that this was my 100th post. Seems like I should take a mini-moment to acknowledge that. I want to thank Phylisa for making me start this blog. My readers are few, but it is an outlet that has kept me writing and I am forever grateful for that. Another shout out goes to Jen, for keeping me honest and reminding me when I slack on my writing duties. I am forever grateful to them and all of the amazing people in my life.

This Just In

Damn It! I am the nice girl. I really hoped that this Christmas I would end up with some coal and some really good stories. And yet, I am the nice girl.

How do I know? I met "the guy" where there was palpable chemistry in the air. He may literally have been the male version of me - and in an eerily nice way. We talked lit and football - two of my favorite topics. We also talked about his girlfriend. Yep. He had a girlfriend. Could I have angled it my way? Perhaps. Did I think about it? Yeah.

But when it comes down to it, I’m the nice girl. Even if I thought I could, I really couldn’t break 2 people up or cause the cheating.

Damn. Looks like I will be dreaming of sugarplums and sucking on candy canes. So much for being the Naughty Girl.

Seriously?

Year # 2 of the (now) ex-whatever taking my email address list and sending an evite out to my friends. If they didn't really want to go last year (when we were pseudo-together and before you blew off New Year's), what makes you think they want to go this year (now that the mean word was invoked and it has been almost 9 months)?

Weird.

Weirder is the "funniest slogan" competition they have. Create the best reply and you could end up on a t-shirt commemorating the party.

Weirdest is seeing him the other day (I will admit, it has been oddly cordial lately) and him telling me that he expects me to come up with a good line for the competition.

Does "No way in hell will I be there, given that last year's party was awkward and sucky and you ditched me 4 days later in a crazy turn events." count as witty? If it doesn’t, I was thinking, “I’d rather shoot my out.” It might work. Brings in the whole Christmas theme and all.

Snow Flakes Falling All Over Town

So, I planned to have last Friday off. Because of the concert. Because no one likes to go to a concert, have a super fun time and then think about work in the morning. I planned to have last Friday off. It was just a bonus that it snowed. There is nothing that a Chi-town girl loves more than the first snow. (And I mean a real Chi-town girl. Someone who has trick-or-treated in the snow and can appreciate that the first major snow storm didn't hit until December 1, 2006). The first snow means, winter hats and gloves, puffy coats and best of all, snow boots. I love my snow boots! I have been waiting to wear them for a while.

When we left the concert, there was a brisk chill in the air. We stopped at Raw Bar, which had graciously watched our coats while we were at the show. We drank champagne while our friend played the piano. We hung out and had fun. N., M. and I decided to do a walk by (checking the scene at a neighborhood bar) and then head to G. T. to end the night. We bundled up and headed outside. It was snowing! Big. Glorious. Wet. Snow. We were thrilled. We headed down the street singing every Christmas carol that involved snow. (We apologize to those that we might have woken up with our shenanigans).

Had a few cocktails. Sang a few songs. Headed home. We tucked ourselves into our respective beds while dreams of snowflakes filled our heads. (Sorry, that was way silly, but I couldn’t resist).

I woke up on Friday excited for the world. Well, sort of. I woke up when my mom called me to tell me about her snow day. I had to remind her that I had taken my own snow day and that I wasn’t up at 6:40 like usual, because I was hoping to sleep in.

After going back to sleep and waking up again, I texted (why hasn’t my spell check program realized this is now a verb) N. to see what she was up to for food. The next thing we know a fun, comfort food, snow day lunch is planned. We all head to a local establishment for some warm food and a nice bartender to ogle a bit. N. had some work to do at the shop (i.e. a crap load of balloons to blow up). We went to help. I now rock at tying ribbon on a balloon.

From there we trekked, literally aiming for the snow piles – since we were wearing our snow boots, to get some hot chocolate. We headed to the G.T. to help N. open the bar.

Single-handedly, this was one of my most favorite days. It was perfect. Snow. Warm food. Good friends. Hot Chocolate. Crossword Puzzle. Funny Re-Cap of Evening Before. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Gonna Knock You Right on the Head

While at the concert on Thursday, we witnessed a tragic sight. Band Groupies. And worse yet, they were Band Groupies for a good, but not-hugely-known-outside-of-Texas artist. A good artist at that. I respect and like Bob Schneider for his music and his lack of need for radio play and the next big single. But that is an entirely different point. These girls (older women pretending to be girls) were the kind that had gotten there early and planted themselves against the stage before the opening act (Matt the Electrician) was even playing. They were a bit on the yuck side.

Being our fabulous (read - sometimes a bit judgmental) selves, we noticed that one of the girls had decided a ribbed tank top and tuxedo-style, halter vest were a good, fashionable combination. It was most definitely not. Upon noticing this catastrophe, we did what all single girls in the city slugging miller lite from a plastic cup do, we took a solemn oath. N. a.k.a. “Oath Leader” made us all raise our hands and swear that we would never think the tank top / halter vest was a good idea and as friends, we would never let each other leave the house looking that tragic. Upon completing the oath, we cheered each other, swigged our beer and looked up and noticed that tank top / vest girl was glancing at us a bit. Busted. Crap, it is no fun to people-watch / outfit mock if you are going to get caught.

Forward the evening a few hours. Bob is on stage and playing. (Apparently according to our friend, Steve, he sucked. As a Bob virgin, I had no idea. I just blindly had fun drinking crappy beer (a.k.a. Miller Lite) and hanging with my friends). N. and I have just rejoined the circle after another beer run an are listening to the music. N. says something funny and goes to move back. The next thing I see is N. in slow motion heading for the floor with her beer in her hand above her head and tipping over. I Go-Go-Gadgeted my arms and grabbed the beer, sparing about a 1/3 of it, which I think is pretty good. N. lays on the floor wondering if a) she can slowly meld into it and b) anyone noticed the graceful moment that just happened.

We all wondered if Instant Karma hadn’t just bit us in the ass a bit.

Crunchy Granola Suite

A group of friends and I attended a concert at the Metro last week. As we entered the 18 and over show, we were carded at the door. We had our bags inspected by security and I use that term loosely. The female security officer stuck her hand in my purse and rummaged around. She pulled out a Kashi granola bar from my bag and yelled at me about sneaking food into the concert. (Because, who doesn't want to have a granola bar and a beer at a show?!?) She wouldn't let me pass unless I threw the granola bar away. I, calm as ever (or not at all), replied something to the extent of why would I eat an f-ing granola bar at a concert and tossed the thing in the trash and entered the Metro.

Continuing onto checkpoint #2, I was carded by a guy who asked me if I had any gum. Still a little pissed off about the Kashi, I asked him “why, do you need to confiscate that too?” Poor innocent carding guy. All he wanted was a piece of gum. I offered him a Tic Tac. Finally inside, I made my way to the bar, because after all this, it was necessary.

Flash Forward to encounter with random drunk girl in bathroom later in the evening. I pulled some lotion out of my purse for a friend, so that we could curb the tavern smell she had about her – more on that story in a different post. We struck up a conversation with this girl about the neighborhood attacks and such. (Have no idea how that became bathroom fodder). Anyway, short story long, she said that she didn’t go anywhere without her pepper spray and blade. And then she pulled them out to show us them.

Could someone explain how the Kashi is the more of a threat than pepper spray and a knife? Was I going to cranberry them to death?

We Let In Light and Banish the Shade

I have a Christmas organizer, which is an entirely different post all together. In this organizer though, I have my Christmas card list of names and addresses. Every year (well, really the years I remember to actually use it), I look at the list and who I sent and received cards to and make updates to the list.

This year, I erased 2 spouses from addresses. There is something sad about erasing a name from a Christmas card list, because the person no longer lives with their family.

Not Ready to Make Nice

It's time to choose between being Naughty or Nice. I think that I have always chosen Nice. I am the quintessential nice girl, with about a decade's worth of heartbreak to show for it.

The nice girl remembers birthdays. She is called in the middle of the night to talk about the latest problem, to rescue someone from a bad situation or just because she makes herself so available people assume that she will be up at 5 AM. She knows that you mentioned you liked (Insert Just About Anything Here) and she makes sure you have it for (Insert Closest Holiday Here). She celebrates her friends’ everythings - even when they don't want to celebrate. She makes everyone feel special (and secretly she wishes for reciprocity).

She is the one that everyone trusts. And everyone confides in. She is faithful, loyal to a fault and believes the good in everyone. (She is often burned, because she can’t see the scheming bastard for what he really is). She is not a huge risk taker, because she is more worried about being there to support other people's risks.

She is often relegated to the "friend zone," because most men aren't ready for her yet. She is the one that most guys talk to, because she is smart, witty, fun and easy going. (This can be a problem, because her nervousness often manifests itself in biting wit and quick responses). She is the one who sits at the table and wishes that someone there would see her as a feminine object of beauty worthy of doting and affection. She is the one who usually ends up answering questions about her friends. And in turn, she is a really good wingman. She is often surrounded by many and sometimes she couldn’t feel more alone.

She is the ultimate party hostess, often negating her own fun for the sake of making sure everyone is taken care of and enjoying themselves. She goes out a lot, but sometimes she longs for her couch, a roaring fire, a good movie and someone to cuddle with. She really just wants someone to be there for her like she is for others. To wax poetic, she wants somebody to love (and be loved by).

The problem with being the Nice girl is that try as she might, she isn’t good at the Naughty. That being said, this Nice Girl’s gonna give it a shot. This year I am hoping for coal in my stocking. (Of course, the stocking will be one that was knitted and hung by the chimney with care by the nice girl who always keeps Christmas in her heart).

Too Hot To Handle

There has been great debate about the new Bond. Will he be good enough? Most women I know have said they don't think he is as cute as other Bonds. I saw Bond right before it came out and I loved it. I won’t give anything away, but this movie is great at the following:

1) Action – The opening action sequence is awesome.

2) Sensuality – There is a scene in the movie that will make the non-believing women become believers.

3) Character Development – This movie helps you see how Bond becomes Bond – it sets an amazing stage for future movies.

I always liked Bond and enjoyed the movies, but this movie might have made me an addict. I have been reinvigorated by Casino Royale and look forward to another installment. And weirdly enough, he gets cuter and cuter throughout the movie. By the end, I was sold.

The Last 5 Days

• I am a Notre Dame fan and a Bears fan. This was a rough weekend for me.

• I loved Thanksgiving dinner - it is one of my favorite meals of the year. Kudos to my mom for once again making it a really great day. The only downer of the day was my Uncle who is annoyingly contrary just because. He walked in with a "Happy F-ing Thanksgiving." Needless to say, that set the tone for his presence. Sometimes it amazes me that he can walk upright with that chip on his shoulder.

• I survived shopping on "Black Friday" - no bruises, cuts, scrapes or war stories. I like shopping on that first day (crazy sounding, I realize). It gets me excited about the upcoming season. It is always my mom, my aunt, my sister and I. This year, sis's b-friend came with and he was a trooper.

• I even survived IKEA on a Saturday - better yet, the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Changing my whole living room and needed some small things - actually excited about the decorating aspect.

On a side note, I feel like the first day back to the office after Thanksgiving is the longest day ever. Goodness. I clock watched all day.

Soup Up! The Fight

I went to CVS to pick up some cans of soup to donate at the Mart today. The Loop, the Greater Chicago Food Depository, Eli's Cheesecake, Potbelly's, Jewel, the Chicago Sun Times and others organized an event to collect food donations for Chicago's largest one-day corporate food drive event. It was festive (the Rockettes kicked it off and various choirs sang all day); it was food-filled, after giving a donation, I received a Potbelly's free sandwich ticket and Eli's cheesecake; it was amazing to see all the food palates and information on how many people this collection would help.

This event was just the kickoff to the season of giving. The next 5 weeks are the perfect time to share the spirit with one another. Now is the time to buy that Streetwise from the person outside your Jewel and put money in the Salvation Army Bell Ringer's cup. It is the time to buy a Toy for a Tot (or a Teen) in addition to your PS3 and donate some food to the Food Bank while you buy your holiday trimmings. It is the perfect time to take a moment, remember all that you have been blessed with, give thanks and extend a helping hand to another.

Please check out these causes:

The Greater Chicago Food Depository again is teaming up with Dominick's Finer Foods and ABC 7 to fight hunger this holiday season. Help us gain a million pounds of food for people in need!

Bring nonperishable items to Dominick's stores throughout the area. We need nutritious food items including peanut butter, canned vegetables and fruits, rice, pasta and cereal.

Toys for Tots collects and distributes toys in the communities. Check out drop sites for toys, including Best Buy.

The Salvation Army Red Kettles have been an American tradition since 1891. They’ve gone a bit high tech this year. To see what I mean, you can go to my Virtual Bell Ringer page and make a donation.

Reflections of

So, Miss Jen G. wrote all about her tv obsessions and I had to chime in with mine. I wish that they were a more refined (mature) selection, as hers seems to be, but I grew up on the Greatest American Hero and developed with Brenda and Kelly on 90210 (though they seemed to have had some help) and I like the drama and the cheese. So for the picking apart by the masses, here is my TV viewing guilty pleasures - mostly in order of the way I watch them:

Football, Football, Football: Love it / Can't get enough of it.

The Amazing Race (insert number here): It is the only game show I still really love. I love seeing all the countries, customs, catty behavior and tasks.

Cold Case: Started watching this, because CBS kept running 60 Minutes over and into The Amazing Race and the only way I could make sure that I had tivo’d the whole episode was to also tivo Cold Case. I am convinced that this was a conspiracy by the network.

How I Met Your Mother: I completely missed the boat on this one and only started watching it, because tivo thought I would like it. (Tivo was right). I think the writing is generally hilarious and that Neil Patrick Harris couldn’t be funnier.

CSI: Miami: Damn this franchise, I seem to watch them all. The more I watch, more I love to make fun of David “We’re going to go catch the criminal” Caruso. (Or whatever that week’s monotone quote while staring at the camera and putting on his sunglasses).

Gilmore Girls: Yeah, still watch it. Will say that while I liked Luke and Lorelei, I was always secretly pulling for Christopher. Feel the show would’ve been different had he not thought he should be on “I’m With Her.” Regardless, I have always loved the fast-paced, overly-peppered-with-pop-culture conversations between the Gilmore Girls.

Veronica Mars: I take credit for getting many obsessed with this show and rightfully so. It is witty, dark, suspenseful and a guilty pleasure. It is the dark side of a Buffy or a 90210. And Jen, Lilly Kane’s murderer is…just kidding – couldn’t do that to you.

3 lbs: Have no idea if I will like it. Tivo’d it to see. Will keep you posted. I really want to like it, because I love Mark Feuerstein and Stanly Tucci. I hope it is not another Studio 60 moment. (a.k.a. Great cast, great idea…still trying to figure itself out).

America’s Next Top Model: I blame my boss for this one. I only started watching it this year. I will say, I enjoy counting how many times Tyra says the phrase: ‘you are still in the running to be America’s Next Top Model’ – insert dramatic pause here.

Top Chef: Something had to fill the Project Runway void.

CSI: NY: God Bless CBS and the innertube. I love that I can watch this show for free (hint, hint NBC) on the Internet. I really like this show more and more.

Ugly Betty: Finally a heroine that is not skinny and perfect. I love America Ferrera for her Curves and her Pants. She has you cringing and cheering for her almost all the time. The weird not-dead Fay plot is odd and campy, but in a fun way. This is probably my favorite new show.

CSI: The original is always the best.

Grey’s Anatomy: Yep, I watch it. In all its nighttime soap-like drama. It is corny and sometimes contrived, but McDreamy is hot and the music is always good and on a Thursday night it fits in well with my routine.

ER: Like Jen, I am back on this one. I hadn’t really left it, but I have re-devoted myself to it. It seems they have gone back to doing what they do best – drama in the ER. They have the new Doug Ross a.k.a John Stamos as Gates. They brought in a new Romano – a.k.a Crenshaw – who is equally irritating in a fun way. They have infused the cast with enough old and new and upped the stories a bit. All in all, this has been one of the best seasons in awhile.

The Office: Slow to catch on to this one too, but am obsessed now. Love Jim and Pam. Have not seen an episode I haven’t liked. Note to NBC, now that you used iTunes to save the show (yep, we all saw the article) how about you replay the show for free like ABC and CBS do with their hits?

Las Vegas: Color this a cheesy, guilty pleasure that I would have dropped if it hadn’t been for tivo.

Numb3rs: I think I watch this one for my mom. It’s a decent Friday night crime drama with math and my consolation for being the daughter of a math teacher, with a BA in English. (Insert “What Do You Do with a B.A. in English” joke here).

Crossing Jordan: If NBC ever puts it back on the air. I have always liked this one and actually picked it over Grey’s Anatomy.

Before there is a brouhaha…I know that I am missing LOST, Prison Break, Bones, the Wire, Weeds and a bunch others. I am pretty sure that I will get to them eventually, but they seem to be destined for NetFlix viewing for me.

Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

I spent my lunch watching people compete against Rex Grossman in a snowball throwing contest. Not that I want to blatantly toss out free corporate sponsorship (especially since a certain coffee joint can get on my nerves every now and then), but this was a cool event. They made a bunch of snow, put out peppermint mochas (my Achilles' heel), collected money for the neediest kids' fund, gave out free coffee - my favorite blend (Christmas Blend) and I got to see a player from the Chicago Bears. Bonus points for the fact that it was Sexy (though I am way too old for him) Rexy.

It was a fun time and has got me even more excited for Sunday's game. I have to say, J.G. was posting about places she would live instead of Chicago, I can't imagine living anywhere else. Visiting, sure. Moving away from Chicago - don't think so.

Where At Least I Know I’m Free

There are a lot of things wrong with this country. I could spend hours writing about improvements we need to make - healthcare, worker's rights, education, child care...I could go on and on. I could spend days writing about the democrats taking back the Senate and House, Rumsfeld's resignation and the scandals of recent days. To cover G - Dub(ya) and all his shenanigans, I could spend a lifetime at the computer.

And that is what is right about this country. I can speak my piece – peacefully. I have the right to agree (or disagree) with the government. I can practice my faith (or have no faith at all). I can assemble. I can select a government through an election process. After participating in a free election, I can sit back and watch the peaceful transition of power. That is the thing I find most miraculous. Every 4 – 8 years, the supreme leader of this country abdicates power to a newly elected individual. There is no coup de tat. There is no violence. There is just a transfer of power. It really is amazing.

To that end, I would like to take a second to thank those that have defended these rights and privileges for me. (I am remiss in that I am 3 days late on this one)

For those that fought the Revolutionary War, because they believed that taxation without representation was wrong. (I’d like to thank my relative, John Hart, for signing the Declaration of Independence).

For those that fought the Civil War, because they believer that no man (woman or child) should be considered property of another.

To the men and women of World War I and World War II, who fought for their country and defended the democratic ideal.

To the veterans of Korea and Vietnam, who fought in conflicts that were not recognized as wars until years later. The controversy that surrounded these wars made it difficult for those who participated in them and yet there are those that answered the call of duty (or draft) and served their country honorably.

To those members of the military in active service around the world, especially those in Afghanistan and Iraq, our thoughts and prayers are with you and for you.

Regardless of my opinions on this current conflict, I will always proudly support the men and women of the military. They risk their lives every day, defending my rights.

And so, Happy Veteran’s Day to All, but especially my dad (Vietnam Vet – whom I couldn’t be more proud), my friend’s father (proud Marine until the day he passed), my friend Jimmy (career Navy), a kid I used to baby-sit for, which is wrong in many ways (Afghanistan) and my friend’s husband (just returned from Iraq). God Bless America.

Haven’t had a dream in a long time

Last night, the Bears played. I was psyched about the game and looking forward to removing the bitter taste of last week’s loss from my mouth. N., J. and I went to a bar / restaurant to watch the game. We were hungry and some of us may have been a bit hung-over. We got there and there was nowhere to sit. We ate tater tots to hold us over. (They were the only things that would fit on the ledge we were leaning on).

We waited for a table to open up and then watched in frustration as a group that already had 2 tables swallowed up the next available one. (Chivalry is in question now – they really didn’t need the 3rd table to hold their waters). We watched as dating couple got the next one – seriously don’t think they even knew a game was on the TV.

We are now cranky and frustrated and to top it off, the Bears aren’t starting off that well. N. and J. decide to stake out the scene and locate a table that looks ready to go. They find the over-served, non-couple couple and chat with them. They promise us they are leaving soon. Over an hour later, we are frustrated and watching drunk guy close tab after tab. N. goes over to talk to them about facilitating a smooth transition. Next thing you know, she is sitting at table with non-couple couple. Within a few minutes, we are all at their table with them. We watch as the girl throws every “I’m absolutely not interested in you” signal in the book at drunk guy and we watch drunk guy miss them all.

We immediately order drinks and food and continue to watch the game. Interestingly enough, as soon as we procured the table, the Bears started to show us why we love them. Our food comes and we devour it. Well, drunk guy devoured J.’s fries, which was pretty funny to watch. The girl keeps talking to J. and blatantly ignoring Drunk guy. Drunk guy keeps telling us how hot our friend (N.) is and how she is the hottest girl in the bar. The whole thing just kept getting weirder and weirder. (My favorite part was when he kept screaming ‘touchdown’ when the Giants were in the end zone, trying to make it 100 yards down the field. We kept telling him ‘safety,’ ‘safety,’ but it was a moot point. Midway through the mess of this interaction, J. leans over to tell N. and I that she had a philosophical epiphany to tell us later.

And then they left. Drunk guy and date. Separately, thankfully. You know that it is bad when drunk guy date comes back to apologize to us for drunk guy and even wistfully remarks that we look like we were having so much fun (which, we were). She pointed out that this was a completely unsuccessful 4th date and that he wouldn’t go away. When they left, J. leaned over and said to us, “sometimes, it is better to be single than to be on that kind of date.”

It’s true. Whenever I think that I am too picky, I will think of drunk guy and think, it is okay to be picky. It is good to be willing to experience things and try (and fail). But, it is also okay to enjoy your life without putting yourself in drunk guy / bad date path. Does that mean that I am perfect at selecting dates? Obviously not – those that have read this page before know that I make some pretty lame mistakes. However, that girl knew by date 2 that drunk guy was not for her and yet, there she was on disaster date #4. Why? Probably because she doesn’t want to be single her whole life. Well, most people don’t. However, I reiterate, it is better to be single than to be miserable in a relationship. She should’ve gone to watch the games with friends – she would have had a hell of a better time.

As for the Bears, holy hell was that a fun game!

Hester—108 yards and a fake out?? Awesome!
Jones – Bring on the Running Game!
Musin – Wear your moose ears proud, he kicked it up a notch yesterday!
Rex – Wow! Some mistakes, but is seems we got our Sexy-Rexy-Back. (This pun was written intentionally for N., who secretly wants to see Timberlake in concert and will probably hurt me for writing that on this page).

Side note: Thanks to Jen for her ringing endorsement of this page. (I am terrified of that, but hopefully, up to the challenge).

See I'm Smiling

Why is it that the guy you want to talk to lingers just out of reach and the one you could go through life without talking to again spends the day chatting you in email? Weird. On the same note, I may be slow on the uptake, but when I make a decision, it is made. So the getting away from Mr. Toxic is exactly what I did and I have not looked back.

That being said, why does he not get it? Invited me to a party - actually 2 different parties. I politely declined the first invite - thankfully I had another engagement, so I didn't have to make an excuse up. The second invite irritated me though. Well, the snarky tone irritated me. It was the "I'm sure you will be at the blah, blah, blah party." Really, what makes you so sure? Is it the fact that we have barely spoken (except when you were insulting me or being a total jerk) in the last several months? Or the fact that I flat out told you that I didn't want you in my life? Which one gave you the security to think that I would be there? Seriously, ego check on aisle 7.

The funny thing is that we both throw annual events a few weeks apart from each other. Last year, it was a different story. Last year, he was there and it was fun. Well, his party wasn't all that fun. I should have taken that as a sign of things to come, since I was pretty miserable and it was only a few days later that he essentially ditched me on New Year's Eve. This year, I didn't invite him to my party. Why would I? Figured it would be easier on everyone (especially my friends) to leave him off the list. Why didn't he think to extend me the same courtesy?

On a side note, I always said that I wouldn't use this space to say hurtful things, but this is me venting. The way I see it, he never read this when we were together (which was always a point of contention) - he is certainly not going to start now.

Incidentally, only Jen will get the title reference. However, if you are curious, listen to the soundtrack to the Last Five Years. We saw it at the Royal George. It is the saddest, most interesting thing I have seen on stage in awhile. It is chilling to watch a relationship start and disintegrate in both directions.

Devil Inside

Somehow, the last week was swallowed by Halloween festivities. I know a lot of people have a negative taste in their mouth when it comes to Halloween, but I love it. For a shy girl with a few too many insecurities, it is nice to bolster myself with a costume and a cocktail and be a bit more risky then I normally would be.

We went out on Saturday night dressed as deviled eggs. Slightly silly, made funnier by the fact that we blatantly stole the idea from a 5-month old baby. I think that I had more fun Saturday, during the day, running around like crazy searching for our costume parts then I did on Saturday night. Don’t get me wrong, Saturday was fun, but I think we expected too much out of it and it ended up being a normal Saturday night. (Well normal for us is strolling in at 4 AM after a pit stop to the burrito house). I will say that the costumes were a hit. Cute and conversation starters and what more do you want out of Halloween?!?

A Blessing and A Curse

So it’s official – I am no longer a car owner. My car (a.k.a submarine) was a total loss. Part of me is grateful – no more car payments; no more moving my car based on night games, street cleanings and school days; no more overpriced gasoline. Part of me is sad – no more picking up and heading home for no reason; no more jumping in my car to visit my sister; no more jumping in my car, plugging in my ipod and driving just to clear my head.

The city girl in me is able to go anywhere – via bus, L or cab. The suburban girl misses transportation that doesn’t involve waiting for signals.

I think I am mostly sad because that car was supposed to be my ticket to adulthood. When I bought my first car (leased) at 21, I got a Pontiac Sunfire. It didn’t have power anything except for the sunroof and it was a low-budget, reliable car. The day I picked out the car, the salesman told me that this could be my starter car. (I had only been out of school for 3 weeks or so). He told me that when my lease was up, I could move up to a Grand Prix or Grand Am.

Well, he was one hell of a salesman, because when my lease was up, I moved up to the Grand Am. I think I believed that the more grown up car meant that I was more grown up. Well, those that know me, know that the car found its way into a lot of disasters...and in the same breath, I don't feel much more grown up than I did 5 years ago.

I guess there is really nothing I can do about the car situation -- it has probably already been stripped for parts and such. I suppose I will just have to work on being a grown up...

Click for Cans

Okay Bears fans, time to unite behind a good cause. Click for cans! The NFL team with the most clicks gets a donation made to local food banks. Right now Green Bay is kicking everyone's a$$. Time for a 4th quarter comeback! (Again)

GO TO THE LINK BELOW AND VOTE FOR THE BEARS.

http://www.chunky.com/clickforcans.aspx

Orange You Glad The Bears Won?!

So last night, out of their a$$es, the Chicago Bears pulled out a victory. It had nothing to do with the offense and for a long time it had nothing to do with the defense either. I’m pretty sure that they won that game because N. and I willed it to be true. (And maybe because of Brian Urlacher). However, no two people could have rooted harder, cheered louder or done more for a victory.

We drank orange and blue shot concoctions (not good at all and the first batch ended up green). We traded shirts. (I have always worn orange during the games, I now know better than to ever wear navy). We drank ‘orange and blue’ beers – a.k.a. Octoberfest and Blue Moon – a.k.a not so good. We ate orange slices. We sent her mom home (she had never watched games with us before). We almost made a couple leave the bar (they had never watched the games together). We sat down. We stood up. We switched seats. We drank our beers with orange juice – well I had to – I was still trying to make up for not wearing orange earlier in the game. We drank our beers in thirds – every time there was a key moment. We screamed so much we nearly lost our voices. We sang Bear Down after every score. We sent inappropriate text messages. We lured downtrodden Bears fans walking past the bar into the bar to join the rally. N. shouted “Wide Left” at the TV when Rackers was attempting the field goal.

And they won! Those damn, crazy, lucky as hell Bears won. And I am exhausted. Although, I was not so exhausted to stay out way past my bedtime, still drinking orange and blue beer, singing Bear Down, Sweet Home Chicago and the Superbowl Shuffle. Yeah, we shuffled. I am pretty sure that we shuffled about a dozen times. It became funny when we assigned parts (I was the punky QB). I loved that throughout the game it was N., me and two couples at the bar. Fifteen minutes after victory, our friends all filed in – with the same exhaustion and exuberance in the eyes. And then the party really started.

It was probably the most stressful and most fun game I have watched in a long time. And I am grateful for the bye – I need to recover. And just so everyone is ready for the for the October 29th game against the 49ers…

Bear Down
Bear Down, Chicago Bears.
Make every play clear the way to victory!
Bear Down, Chicago Bears.
Put up a fight with a might so fearlessly!

We'll never forget the way you thrilled the nation,
With your T formation.

Bear Down, Chicago Bears.
And let them know why you're wearing the crown.

You're the pride and joy,
of all Illinois.

Chicago Bears, Bear Down!

You Can't Hide Behind Social Graces

Ani Difranco writes about taking things As Is. It has always been an anthem for me about taking things in stride and finding the good in the situation. I liked that she said, "just give up and admit you're an a$$hole...you would be in some good company."

I always thought that it meant be who you are, flaws and all, and everything will be okay. Of course, then I 'dated' (or whatever the hell the last 9 months of my life were) someone who really was an a$$hole. Though, I thought so much more of him, which is what really sucks the most.

I quit that mess of a relationship cold turkey (though some thought that I wouldn't) and am now back at square one. Once again in the dating pool sorting out the craziness that is being a single girl.

I think the hardest thing is trying to find the truth in all the BS. It’s finding the person who is who they say they are and being the person that you say you are…

It is being and accepting someone as is.

I like the Green Ones Best!

To all those who that I was crazy for the M & M question, that's probably not a stretch. However, that crazy question has brought about some heated (well, not really heated, funny might be a better word) debates about method and madness. Some of my favorites:

Nicole: I bite Peanut M & Ms in half and then eat half the chocolate and then the other half - saving the peanut for last.

Mary: I eat the brown ones first, then the colored ones- the green ones last. I normally bite each m&m in 1/2 in my mouth. Sounds strange, but this way it doubles your portion. But if the m&ms are in a treat bag...I just eat them one at a time- hard to separate colors on the go eating from a bag.

Matty: I just take as many as I can possibly fit into my hand and shove as many in my mouth as possible. Don't really care what color they are. Peanut M & M's are much better though!

Natalie: I arrange them by color and then eat the color I have fewest of first. If I am tied for any number, I eat the color I dislike the most first then I move on ... funny thing though, this only applies to the plain m&m's ... peanut m&m's I eat like Matty does :)

It's strange how we all seem to have a certain way. Of course, when I was younger, it was totally different. I used to eat the tan browns first, because they were the ugliest. Then the dark browns. Then the yellows. Then the reds. I would always save greens for last -- think it had something to do with a baseball metaphor.

One Word

A friend posted this to his blog and it was interesting to me. A quiz that you can only respond to with one word. It made me think about all the times that I fill in extra in order to make people know who I am and what I am about. One word. It's a challenge.

1. Yourself: Dea

2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend: None

3. Your hair? Long

4. Your mother? Wonderful

5. Your Father: Loyal

6. Your Favorite Item: Nicodemus

7. Your dream last night: Intriguing

8. Your Favorite drink: Bailey’s

9. Your Dream Car: Beetle

10. The Room You Are In: Office

11. Your Ex: Matt

12. Your fear: Loneliness

13. What you want to be in 10 years: Sated

14. Who you hung out with last night? TV

15. What You're Not? Brave

17. One of Your Wish List Items: U2

19. The Last Thing You Did? Commuted

20. What You Are Wearing: Pants

21. Your Favorite Weather: Snow

22. Your Favorite Book: Serendipity

23. The Last Thing You Ate: Dinner

24. Your Life: Complex

25. Your Mood: Searching

26. Your body: Curvy

27. What are you thinking about right now: Tomorrow

28. Your car: Wet

29. What are you doing at the moment? Working

30. Your summer: Fun

Let us confidently hope that all will yet be well

I like the idea of posting about what I am reading. Those that know me well know that I tend to get wrapped up in a topic. For a long time it was British History (although the 1000 page Henry VII book was nearly my undoing) and now it is the Civil War - well, more specifically, Abraham Lincoln.

I read Manuhunt by James L. Swanson (contrary to popular belief, not about dating) and that triggered this new obsession. If you get a chance, read it, it is an extraordinary tale of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln and the hunt for John Wilkes Booth.

Anyway, this sparked my interest and I have moved on to Team of Rivals. Well, that and a trip to the Underground Railroad museum and the PBS documentary on Abraham and Mary (thank you, Netflix). Did I mention that I met Abraham Lincoln this weekend? Not literally, I am not that crazy, but there was an actor playing him at the Tall Stacks festival. He recited the speech Lincoln gave when he left Springfield for Washington DC. It was amazing. Thanks to my sister's boyfriend's insistence, I now have a nice picture of me and Abe.

So, that's the subject obsession for the day. Highly recommend.

But the truth is not the same without the lies he made up

I'm not sure how I feel about this myspace thing. I created a profile a year ago, because a friend invited me to it. I let it stay dormant for the better part of the year.

Then I had some friends I hadn't talked to in 10 years find me and that was great. What an interesting place this myspace is...a place that lets you connect with people you might have lost. It seemed like a great invention.

Then again, someone posted a mock Laurie Dann profile on myspace. It may have gone unnoticed to many, but I lived through that nightmare - it was a bit too close to home. The school she attacked was 2 blocks from mine and I knew one of the victims. That event changed schools forever. A year later buzzers were installed and doors were locked. School was no longer the safe haven that it had seemed to be.

Why someone thought it was a good idea to post her profile, I will never understand. It has since been removed by the myspace people, but it makes me wonder. It makes me wonder about this space. This space where people create a profile and write their thoughts and ideas. Who are the people behind the profiles? Are they who they really present themselves to be?

Is the interesting guy with a profile like yours really a guy? Is he single or is he being deceiving? It is a hard thing to tell on the internet. I have always been one to believe in the goodness of people, but this place makes me a bit of a skeptic. I like to look into someone's eyes and see the honesty. You can't do that in a staged photo with a blinking online symbol. So for now, I will wait and see. See what this myspace has to offer.

On the one hand, it has let me link up with friends around the country. On the other hand, it is not the same as sitting across from someone and having a conversation.

How Do You Eat M & M's?

This weekend was a mini-family trek to see my sister. I left a day and a half early, so that Debs and I could do some fun sister bonding. My parents joined us on Friday. I love my family. They are absolutely insane in the best ways.

This weekend, my mom asked me how I eat my M & M’s. Sounds like a strange question to start – made stranger by my reply, “Am I sitting at my desk or am I just eating them?” Odd, I know. But, I make my M & M’s into a colored pyramid, if I am sitting down. I eat the oddball ones (those that didn’t make the pyramid) first and then eat the pyramid, a diagonal row at a time. I have no idea when or why I started doing this.

I felt better when my mom asked my sister the same question later in the day. Debs replied, “Am I eating them from a candy bowl or the bag?” This confirmed for me that she is truly my sister. It seems that my sister eats M & M’s by first eating the colors she does not like.

As for my mom, she eats her M & M’s in coordinating colors – i.e. Blue and Green for Marillac (my high school alma mater), Red and Green (obvious Christmas reference), Blue and Yellow (Notre Dame) and so on and so forth.

It was at this point that my Dad interjected with the extremely logical, very linear-minded, “They all taste the same” comment. I am now wondering if we are the milkman’s kids. Kidding aside, I wonder. Are we the weird ones? (Actually, I don’t wonder that, I know we are a bit). But, is this a male / female thing? Something weirdly unique to my family? Do other people have a system for eating M & M’s? I’m a bit curious now.

So I post the question to all (well, really to Jen and my sis, since I think they are the only ones that read this), “How do you eat your M & M’s?”

My Kind of Town

People always ask me why I love Chicago so much and I say it is for the seasons. Most people hate it here in December - March, but I love a crisp winter day. I love the bright sun and glistening snow. I love curling up on my couch with a good movie and fire going. I love sitting in a bar that is four doors from me, because it is too cold to go anywhere else. (I will admit the days when your eyes water and tears freeze to your face and your nose feels like it is going to fall off -- those days kind of stink, but you get through them and forget about them – until next time, of course).

Soon, you have survived the winter and it is the springtime and there is the hope of a new baseball season. (At least for the first few weeks). March Madness. The first day I can wear sandals. Things becoming green again.

Summer goes without saying. There is nothing better than summer in Chicago. Street fests. Baseball games. Beach Volleyball. Barbeques. Movies in the Park. A perfect summer evening, sitting on your porch hearing the sounds from Wrigley, drinking a beer with friends.

All of this transitions smoothly to the fall. And the beauty of the changing colors on the trees. And the first brisk day. And football. I love football. I love meeting on a Saturday and sitting in a bar watching all of the games with my friends. (Well, now that I am venturing out again and braving the world filled with ND haters). I love that an innocent afternoon of football becomes a ridiculously fun time with a Talon mascot, way too many “La Bomb-as,” a lot of Pirate talk and gumball roulette.

Of course, this past Saturday’s shenanigans could have more to do with my friends and less to do with Chicago, but given that I was in a neighborhood bar (although the bar was not too neighborly and will not solicit a return visit from us) with all of the people that I have met from my neighborhood, leads me to believe that Chicago had something to do with it.

Thank You

Anyone who knows me, knows my absolute disdain when it comes to the CTA. The CTA drives me crazy. You are packed like a sardine in a smelly car where people are (more often than not) only looking out for themselves. It is frustrating and annoying -- especially throughout the Brown Line "Improvements."

However, the other day, the nicest thing happen to me on the L. I boarded the train after leaving the office and got into a packed car, prepared to stand balancing myself and all my work stuff. When, a gentleman (who knew they still existed) stood up and offered me his seat. Now, I am not elderly, handicapped or pregnant, which in train terms are typically the people you want to give your seat to. I am just a 30 year girl with a few bags. And yet he gave me his seat.

It was the nicest thing ever and completely changed my mood and my day. So, to the kind stranger on the Brown Line. I just want to say, "thank you." You are a good, kind man and I hope that life rewards you.

Mike and Mike

I woke up early this morning and without the use of the alarm clock. For those that know me, that is a shocking statement in and of itself. I am not a morning person. No fewer than 6 alarms go off at different times of the morning in an attempt to make me get out of bed. One of my alarms is set to ESPN 1000 and the Mike and Mike show. Since I was awake, I turned off the alarms and turned on the TV to ESPN2, which broadcasts a TV version of the show. I stared at the TV listening to Mike and Mike talk sports. An hour into my vegging (and at the point when I should have been getting up and getting into the shower), they started talking about 9/11 and how they remember being on air. And it was surreal, because they were the ones that broke the news to me 5 years ago.

I was in my car (doing the horrible commute that plagued me for 4 years -- though, this was only the second week of it and I didn't know how much it would suck) and had stopped at the Starbucks for coffee. I came out with caffeinated goodness and heard them mention a plane hitting the WTC. It was almost laughable and blase at the time. I pictured a bad prop plane moment out of a Godzilla movie and mentally moved on. I remember Mike Greenberg saying that they were going to keep us posted, but that since this was a sports station, they were going to keep it on the topic at hand - I believe it was pennant races and early football games.

Of course, this was around 8 AM CST. Within the next hour, all hell had broken loose and our lives had been forever changed. I remember the sensitivity and compassion that fueled Mike and Mike's broadcast, after the second plane hit and the Pentagon news broke. I remember ESPN turning it over to ABC for full coverage.

It's strange that five years later, I tuned into the same broadcast and to the same broadcasters as I did that day. To hear their voices and their recollections, which completely mirrored mine, was comforting. It reminded me that even with the most horrific tragedies, life slowly moves forward.

To all those whom lost their life that day, you will always be in our thoughts and prayers and hearts and souls. God Bless You. God Bless America.

“Crikey!”

I heard a father lamenting the tragic death of Steve Irwin. He was talking about having to console his son and how his son was so devastated. It seemed so dramatic and I was having a hard time relating. I could sympathize with the loss. It was tragic, shocking and sudden. For a moment though, to me, it was just another sad ending in the news. And then I thought about all the kids that grew up watching him. All the kids who dreamed of being him when they grew up. And, I remembered.

I remembered being a kid filled with dreams. Thinking that I could be anything (and I really planned on being it all – astronaut, singer, teacher, writer, dolphin trainer and president of the United States). Then, January 28, 1986, changed the way I looked at things. The death of the Challenger crew brought the dark side of life to my otherwise innocent eyes. It was unnerving and scary. It made me see that things have a beginning and an end. It also made me a little fearful of the sky. I am not an astronaut today and I don’t know if that one incident shaped everything. But I wonder.

So, to the kids who dream of being a Crocodile Hunter when they grow up, keep dreaming – emulate all that Steve Irwin was in life – adventurous, conscientious, respectful, unafraid (but cautious), exuberant, jovial, a lover of all living things, a true friend and family man and a loving soul. He would want to be honored in that way. He would want you to reach for the stars!

Too much of a good thing...

Starbucks learned a mighty lesson in the power of the Internet / "FWD"ing emails this week, when they sent out a free iced coffee promotion to individuals in the Southeast region. Under the premise that they could forward it to friends and family, people who received the email did just that. Soon Starbucks saw its "Southeast" promotion spread like wildfire across the US.

In order to service their customers, Starbucks extended the promotion to all company-owned Starbucks stores -- at least that's what they said. Under this theory, anyone who received the coupon could go to Starbucks and get a free Iced Coffee. Of course, 6 days later, they issued a statement that retracted the offer - no more free Iced Coffees for anyone. They did this, because, "Unfortunately, it has been redistributed beyond the original intent and modified beyond Starbucks control."

Um, okay, Starbucks, welcome to the 21st Century. Your original email said the following: "Starting today until September 30th, please join us in "surprising and delighting" our family and friends, while introducing you to our iced beverages. Attached is an invitation for a complimentary iced Grande beverage. Please forward this invitation to everyone in your email address book."

Nowhere in the email or on the flyer does it specify that this is only a regional promotion. Was Starbucks so naive to assume that people's email address books would only include addresses for the region in which the promotion was valid? It is ironic that Starbucks used email / Internet to promote themselves and their products and then shut it down when it got to be "too much." Interesting.

When is free advertising too much to handle? Well, in Starbucks’ case, it was when they realized there would be a lot of people coming for a free coffee. Really, I think it is now, when they realize that the same hands that forwarded the coupon to entire their address book are now forwarding this information as well: http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/nothing/starbucks.asp . So Mr. Mega Conglomerate Starbucks...which would you have preferred....a few free coffees or your customers thinking that you make promises that you can’t keep. Seems to me that the surprise to my family and friends is that the grande coffee costs! The delight will most likely be found in the public relations nightmare that you have started for yourselves...

30 observations from the 43 days that got swallowed up by my 30th birthday

So, it has been awhile, but between work and planning parties and enjoying summer in Chicago, I have been not sat down to write in awhile. To make up for it, here are 30 random things since I wrote on this site last:

30. Rebel Without a Cause is good on a movie screen, better outdoors with fireworks in the background and amazing when you have all of the above, plus friends and 3 bottles of wine.

29. The Berenstein Bears were right...there such a thing as too much birthday. (Actually, my birthday (and subsequent celebrations) was amazing. More than anyone could ask for, but this 30-year old is plum tuckered out).

28. It was 104 on the day before my birthday and the Cubs got their butts kicked. Of course, I could write that line for most of my birthdays.

27. Kiddie pools aren't just for kids when it is 104 outside. (This goes for slip 'n' slides as well).

26. German beer packs a lot of punch!

25. The key to good Sangria is soaking the fruit in sugar and brandy. The key to a good hangover is drinking a punch bowl's worth of Sangria.

24. Truth or Dare Jenga is the best way to turn a quiet Saturday night into a night of debaucherous chaotic fun.

23. There is nothing quite as funny as jazz hands.

22. If you are a cute girl with your even cuter friend and you stumble into “Nerds Single Night,” do not pull out your crossword. It is not going to help the situation.

22. As a follow up to #20, if you are a guy that signed up (and paid to attend) said Nerd Night, don’t walk around the bar looking down on others and acting as if you are better then everyone else. Don’t graze a girl you’ve never talked to and then use a line involving a shade of blue. Don’t argue your tab when you are obviously wasted. Finally, don’t blame said tab (that you racked up hitting on women) on 2 “Hate-Filled Evil Women.” Really, we didn’t give you a thought until then and now you have made yourself the star of a story that will never cease being funny. And for the record, you don’t hold a candle to Vince Vaughn.

20. American Graffiti is as good a movie as I remember and once again, better under the stars with a bottle of wine. If it is a movie you have never seen, you must rectify this.

19. The 10th Season of Friends is really good. It does kind of pull everything together in a nice ending.

18. Summarizing the last several weeks of the summer is hard when you are trying to come up with 30 things and when you are writing it a month after the fact.

17. When you go to a club (and you’re a shot and beer kind of girl) and the night takes a turn when you pay $20 just to start it, the best way to salvage it is to drink your weight in vodka. Bunny boilers be damned.

16. Watching a PBS documentary is not nerdy – however, sitting on the couch watching it, eating ice cream and knitting might be.

15. Fresh basil really does make a better fagach.

14. Sometimes people don’t always see you, even when they are looking right at you.

13. Hallmark really does make a card for everything and everyone. (Including a Word Up card for Dane! Happy Birthday, Dane! And others that I have missed...Deb - love you and Jason - welcome to the 30 Club!)

12. Never settle.

11. Getting crushed by your crush on your birthday requires late night recovery pub-style – shots and beers.

10. Follow up to #11, the sister who stays and does the shots (even though she hates them) and the friend who keep on pouring them (because it’s how he can make the situation better) are what it is all about.

09. Follow up (again) to #11 – it is always worth the risk. Even if you end up crushed.

08. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. (And usually, that involves It Raining Men)!

07. Sometimes the tough girl needs to be covered in satin and lace.

06. There is something to be said about being a damn good wingman (and about having one).

05. Dr. McGillicuddy’s and Hershey Syrup really do make everything better.

04. A really nice family picture is important, even if it involves a U-Boat.

03. There is nothing better than spending a week with your sister! Well, maybe it is your sister and the 6 pints of Grater’s ice cream she brought with her.

02. Every girl should own a Tiffany Bracelet. (Thanks Mom and Dad for making that dream come true. We’ll call the Mistletoe Bear incident a draw).

01. Turning 30 isn’t bad, as long as you are surrounded by lots of liquor and all of your family and friends. So, though I have not been thoroughly kissed in this, my 30th year, it has all around been a good start. Here’s to family and friends and the feeling that you fit in this crazy world. Here’s to 30 and absurdy!

Maybe I'm Brainless

A friend of mine emailed me today and asked me if I was familiar with "Avenue Q." She thought that "A Fine, Fine Line" perfectly described my recent dating debacle. I concurred, as I had made that discovery months ago. (Though, I always thought that Ani had a few things to say about the situation as well). Without wasting everyone's time with drama details, I'll give you Kate Monster's synopsis of my last few months:

"There's a fine, fine line between a fairy tale and a lie;
And there's a fine, fine line between "You're wonderful" and "Goodbye."
I guess if someone doesn't love you back it isn't such a crime,
But there's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of your time.

And I don't have the time to waste on you anymore.
I don't think that you even know what you're looking for.
For my own sanity, I've got to close the door
And walk away...

There's a fine, fine line between together and not
And there's a fine, fine line between what you wanted and what you got.
You gotta go after the things you want while you're still in your prime...

There's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time."

Sad, but true. And so I closed the door on that chapter of my life, because it was the right thing to do. I deserve a lot more than I have gotten, especially since most of it has been grief and some pretty nasty words. And people thought that I might waiver, but I haven’t and I won’t. There is no looking back. (Think Bye Bye Love…Jo Dee Messina-style). I don’t want to.

Right now there is a window opening (sorry for the Sound of Music reference, but it was right there for the taking) and it is refreshing. It is the slow unfolding of possibilities that is so enthralling. The stage that takes you back to every playground crush you ever had. The something to look forward to...I don't know what it is, but it is fun and there hasn't been a lot of that lately. I almost feel as if the drama and the messiness were necessary to make it so easy to see the good when it was right in front of me. And that is all I am going to say for now, because there are some things that I like to keep to myself.

Women's Lib Ruined it for Them?

I should start by saying that I was at a family party in which I kept having to walk away -- for fear of getting in trouble. While I love my family, they are not always the most open-minded, accepting family. In fact, sometimes, they are downright judgmental and somewhat rude. I was raised (thankfully) to accept everyone. To not think about racial or religious divides. I was also raised to believe that I could accomplish anything. (Part of me still believes that I will be an astronaut / dolphin-trainer / President of the United States). In that vein, I have become a strong-willed, opinionated (sometimes too), independent woman, who is capable of lots and who will stand up and speak against injustices -- which, at family parties, tends to get me in trouble. Here is a sample of yesterday's fun:

1) My aunt, who had knee surgery and shouldn't be walking around a ton and sure as heck should not be going up and down stairs like she does, was having a bad knee day. I blame it on the fact that she is a wonderful Italian woman and a caretaker to all...except herself. Anyway, when my mom and I got to the party, she was sitting on the stairs because she couldn't move. As my mom and I were helping her to a chair in which she could put her knee up, someone asked, "What's wrong with her?" Okay, I should say that the someone is a nice person (somewhere in there), but a bit on the crazy side and just a tad annoying. I weeble wobble between getting annoyed by said person or feeling bad for said person. Anyway, I turned around and said, "She had knee surgery. It takes awhile to recover from and she probably shouldn't be putting as much strain on it as she does."

2) Within 2 minutes of this moment said person's horribly ignorant (women in the kitchen / teachers get paid too much for having summer's off...)husband asked my aunt where she (emphasis on that word) was going to put all the drinks he had in his hand. To which I said, "How about you put them in those things that look like coolers."

Strike 2 and I had been there for 5 minutes.

I endured the good natured ribbing about the Cubs. They think that it is hilarious that I am a fan and I that I live in Wrigleyville. (Mind you, they are fans too, but fair-weathered).

3) Then came the ridiculous Women's Lib incident. We were in the kitchen. I was trying to get my aunt to sit and direct us, but she was of course in the midst of doing everything for everyone one. Someone made some snide comment about women which was followed up by this gem, "Women's Lib ruined it for all of them." Spoken by the ignorant husband from earlier. And then came me. With this: "Hmm. Pretty sure that I have a good career, great apartment, wonderful friends and a good life and I am pretty sure that you had nothing to do with it." Exit stage left or back outside to cool off for a bit.

Won't even get into my cousin and his electronic snobbery. Apparently buy brands based on who you see in the store buying them. You get what you pay for was another gem. True and yet why does a freshman in college need a 20 inch flat screen fancy TV. It is college. It may get ruined. Hell, I was at a party last year in which a TV had an unfortunate accident. You never know.

There was also the genius that this was a family gathering the day after my aunt's birthday and no one thought to get her a cake. Well, actually, some thought she didn't need it (who doesn't need a birthday cake?), some thought that others had taken care of it and some just didn't think. It resulted in my cousin with a big heart running out to get a cake on behalf of everyone. And let me tell you, she loved it. It is not that hard to do a nice thing for someone you love.

On the way home, my mom told me that she loves that I am well spoken and intelligent and that sometimes she wishes I would just keep it to myself. I asked her if she really wanted me to leave the "women's lib" thing alone and she said, "of course not, that was ridiculous."

And that's my point.

Two Netflix Enter a Mailbox...

Strange phenomenon of recent weeks... Every time I send back two Netflix movies at the same time, date, moment and mail slot, one gets there first and the other "arrives" the next day. How is it in the finely honed mailing system that is Netflix does this happen? Why does my conspiracy antenna go up and I feel like they hold on to one for an extra day? It has happened 3 times in the last 3 weeks. I wonder if this happens to anyone else? Keep you posted.

Confidential to J

Thank you for being the friend that says things that I know, but don't always want to hear. You are immensely frustrating and wonderful simultaneously and I adore you for that. We do not always see eye-to-eye and lord knows, we can battle, but you are a straight-shooter and a good support and I appreciate it. Yes, I know what you say to be true. I even figured it out myself, but sometimes I really wish that were not the case. And that, my friend, is my Achilles Heal. That being said, I am glad to know and have you in my life. Even if you make me tear up every now and again. So, cheers to you. You one of the good ones. See you for cocktails soon.

The Gambler

"You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run...Kenny Rogers"

Why did it take me a decade of dating to figure out that this had absolutely everything to do with my dating life? (Actually, it has everything to do with dating in general). So many of my past relationships involved seeing the good in something or someone -- even when, at times, it was not there. There have been some extremely wonderful relationships that have taught me a lot about love and about myself and then there have been those that were such a mess. Those relationships where I thought another coin in the slot would hit the jackpot and instead, I ended up broke.

My New Decade Resolution is to know when to hold 'em. I promise to know a good thing when I see it and to not be afraid to try. Know when to fold 'em. I promise to stop trying to hold onto something that is the dating equivalent of a 7 & 8 in the hole. I will stop thinking that the river will turn up a better card, because 9 times out of 10, the river is going to screw you. Know when to walk away. I promise to recognize when it is time to throw in the towel and let something go. To stop trying to make a bad situation better. To stop trying to fix things all the time. To stop losing myself and fading into a facade in the interest of keeping something alive that has been in code blue for way too long. And, when all else fails, to know when to run. As fast as I can. In the other direction. With an umbrella - if necessary.

Now, I don't kid myself. There is a decade of hurt that holds up this epiphany and one moment of clarity is not going to make it all better. However, I am going to try and make better decisions. Be more open. Put myself out there. Be less intimidating and (yes, j, I admit that I can be) cynical. Because I am the girl that believes in the glass slipper, the horse drawn carriage, the prince and true love. I just need to believe in myself now.

Four Funerals and a Wedding

Unlike most, I have been to a lot of funerals. I buried 2 grandparents by the time I was 6. (1 died before I was born). I am the best when it comes to tragedy. I put on my game face, plan if I need to, offer support and silently cry to myself. I am a pillar. I say all this, because I am planning to attend another wake today.

Tif was probably my best friend in college. She was the person that I could always turn to and vice versa. We had all the cliché things - fun road trips (involving a Days of Our Lives Fan Fest in Salem, IL), crazy parties (there was one in particular that my boyfriend, Matt, was not too thrilled with), random drinking nights (involving rain and mud) and quiet all night movie moments. She got married right out of school and had her first child within a year. Now we are 8 years after graduation, she has 3 kids and lives in the suburbs and I probably haven't seen her in 2 years. Which is ridiculous.

Today, I am going to her dad's funeral and it is sad. Sad that I am at the age that my friends' parents are dying, because I certainly don’t feel that old and neither does my mom (and dad). Sad that it took a funeral to put us back in touch with one another. It reminds me of Mary - another college friend that I had lost touch with over the years. She and I reconnected at our friend Leon's funeral and while his death still hurts my heart, finding Mary again was the light in all the sadness. Why is it that death reminds us what's truly important in life? Why do we wait that long?

Ozzie and Mariott(i)

Anyone who knows me, knows I am a Cubs fan 'til the end. Not a Sox fan at all. Am torn as to whom to cheer for this week, as the Sox play the Cards. The night the Sox won the World Series, I watched the game, did a shot (not in celebration, but in frustration) and went to bed. Chicago fan I am not.

Knowing this, as much as I am not a Sox fan, I am even less a Mariotti fan. I think that he is a sniveling, snide, whiny, ignoramus, blow-hard, who enjoys the sound of his voice way too much and who likes to stir up controversy everywhere. I hate that he is associated with Chicago. I hated his radio show on ESPN 1000 and I hate his column even more. I will always get my sports knowledge from other sources. I never hear or see a story and wonder what Mariotti wrote. I care that little about him.

That being said, not once did I use a derogatory word to describe my loathing of him. It wasn't necessary. There are so many colorful and wonderful words to describe the cowering, little nothing of a man known as Mariotti. Ozzie was wrong to say what he did. He should apologize. He should make a donation to a gay rights organization and tape a public service announcement regarding the importance of understanding and the ignorance of negative stereotyping. He should probably sit out a game or two. If he worked in corporate America, his statement would've led to termination or at least a written warning. Strangely enough, in that setting, probably only a few people would have heard the negative remark and not the millions that have heard it and discussed it the last few days.

I hope that Ozzie learns that he should think before he speaks. I hope that he learns that his words can positively or negatively impact so many. I hope that he turns this into a positive and fast, because it is the right thing to do and because it will make Mariotti go back to cowering in his corner looking for another situation to stir up.

Stop Pulling My Pigtail

2006 has been abundant with guy drama for me. It started on New Year's Eve and has gotten progressively worse. My problem is that I see the good in a guy, even if they are not always good. (That has been my flaw since freshman year of college). I think that the past 6 months of misadventures might been a season's worth of Sex in the City. (Minus all the randy behavior).

I keep finding myself in situations in which I like a guy and then the quiet shy girl in me from grade school rears her ugly head. And my friends all read this and are wondering how in the hell I am quiet and shy, but when it comes to guys, I am. And when I am shy (and especially when I like someone), I get nervous and with nervous comes the false bravado that is intimidating and off-putting. It is my defense mechanism and it sucks sometimes. I end up watching the guy like someone else, because I was scary girl.

And before Tom reads this and yells at me for being all mopey, let me say this: I am in the Summer of the Year I turn 30 and I like my life. I am happy and content with my job and friends. I love my family. I am blessed with good health and I have a lot going for me. But, to wax Little Mermaid, I want more.

I want to like a guy that sees me and not my friend. (And better yet, sees me as more than a friend, since I get stuck in that category a lot). I want him to recognize that I am smart, kind, witty, stubborn, lovable, loving, compassionate, funny, serious, joyful, sad, honest, a sports addict, a movie lover, a good cook, a good friend and a good partner. I want him to see me as the piece that completes him. I want the courage to approach him and not be scared.

I am tired of the bs and the games. I am done with coy. I know that everyone that has someone says that when you find it, it all falls into place. There are no rules regarding days until you call someone. There isn't a specific first date protocol. There is no worry if he is really into you. It all comes together. The two become a whole. I believe that. I really do. Everyone thinks that I am jaded, but really I am quite the opposite. I really believe that I will find that person that (sorry for the second Jerry McGuire moment in as many paragraphs) completes me. I just wish I knew when. I really just wish it were sooner rather than later.

See, the thing is, while I like my independence, I wish that I had someone to depend on...other than my family and friends. Yesterday, when my car was dead, I had to think of how to get it started and to the mechanic. Two weeks ago, when I saw the mouse, I had to buy and set the traps. And no, I don't want a guy to do all the dirty work, but it would be nice to feel like I had someone to count on in that way. Someone who would problem solve for me every now and again. Someone who would say: "Don't stress D, I know you can handle it, but for once, let me help you. I'll take care of it." Someone who makes a really bad situation better and not worse. I guess, I really am just looking for someone who wants to be with me, flaws and all, and really wants to be there.

1988

At the Walgreens today I saw a sign for cigarettes. You have to be born in 1988 or earlier to purchase them. Really? 1988. Was fine with turning 30, but now those born in 1988 are turning 18. Goodness. I remember 1988.

Desperately Seeking Vacation et al

I have been running around like crazy for the last several weeks...working and holidaying. Cannot wait for the summer to come...hoping for a bit of a break. Anyway here's the update:

Opening Day: (Cinci and then at Home) CUBS WIN! CUBS WIN! CUBS WIN! We won the actual opening day, but better yet, won our home opener -- which we haven't often in recent years. The weekend was not a disappointment as we swept the Cardinals.

Holy Week: Was a blur of activity. Mostly it was me working a lot trying to meet some deadlines. I worked until 4 AM on Friday morning and missed Holy Thursday mass. It stunk, but the nice thing was, I met the deadline and didn't have to worry about it over the weekend.

Easter Sunday: Crazy. 21 people in my parents house for the holiday. Yes, I did clean the upholstery -- seems to be my thing. My sister stayed in Ohio and went to Easter with Jason's family. That was the only bummer. I missed having her home.

Present Day: Derek Lee broke his wrist in 2 places. Argh. It's April. What a bummer! I was listening to people b**ch about the Cubs last night and the Tribune Co and Hendry and MacPhail and I thought, it is April 20th, this can't be happening already. I actually said that I couldn't think this way in April. I just couldn't. So today, I officially start my "Call Brandon Sing Up" campaign. I figure he is a good hitter, a decent fielder and he is available in our own farm system. Can't he help out while we wait? I mean, ESPN 1000 was saying all these crazy things like get Clemens (how is that helping), get Soriano (yes, someone else who can't field / throw)...can't we look within and work with something we already have?

Okay. That is what I am thinking for now. Have another entry forming in my head. Hope to post it soon.

Why I Love March Madness

I am a little behind on this post, but I have been sleep deprived and in basketball overload for a few weeks now.

Well, I don't think that 2 games could've ended in crazier, more exciting fashion than the UCLA v Gonzaga and Texas v West Virginia games did. It was probably some of the best basketball I have watched all year.

I will say though that the sight of Morrison on the floor in tears was a bit heartbreaking -- even if he helped knock out my favorite Musketeers in the first round -- I still felt bad for the kid. (I know that many a sports writer has debated the very punny "no crying in basketball" theory, but frankly, the kid is in college, he just lost a huge game in front of a lot of people, he is already a wee-bit emotional and he is probably spent. So he fell to the floor and cried. So what. I'd take that over ambivalence any day.)

Back to Morrision on the floor and in anguish...Nat and I kept wondering why no one would go help him off the floor. His teammates seem to be oblivious and far away. It was all very strange. However, skimming the next day's news, it seems that someone (Afflalo) did offer a helping hand -- it just didn't get shown in the replay...

And that one gesture is why, I love March Madness - for all its crazy upsets, amazing shots, fierce competition -- there is an underlying sportsmanship that is awesome.

And so I will continue to watch, depriving myself of sleep and my body of nutrition (damn bar food; damn beer)! , because it is the best sports competition there is...congrats UCLA, Texas, LSU, Memphis, Florida, George Mason (yes, I wrote George Mason), UConn, Villanova...see you in the next round.

Side Bar: I wrote this before the Saturday / Sunday games. I will say, the games just keep getting better. A final four in which none of the Number 1 Seeds made it? To Hell with my brackets! Go George Mason! Go Florida! Go LSU! Go UCLA. (I should mention that UCLA was the only one I actually picked correctly. Oh well. I am a Cubs fan and there is always next year!

Smart Girls Come with Chips...On Their Shoulders

I endured the lecture the other day from someone who didn't know me, but had me pegged -- at least in his mind. I confess that he was partially right. He said that I was jaded and that I had a thing against guys and that I could be vicious.

All of that is partially true. Really. I admit it. I am a bit jaded and I can be vicious at times. In my defense, it is my self-protect mode. Since I was 16, I was the girl that everyone told would be the good wife. (Of course, that means that no one that age ever wants to date you). I am the friend that everyone calls in the middle of the night. I make soup for you when you are sick. Hold your hair when you throw up (usually, because I am a sympathy-puker, I join in the fun). I am the reliable one. The responsible one. Which means that I am often not pursued at all. Which is frustrating, but mostly it is hurtful.

On a Saturday night, I am often the best damn wingman that you even seen, but other than being the diversion-ation, I am usually the one that makes sure we all get into cabs and get safely home. I have been trying lately to be the irresponsible one. I have stayed out too late. Drank too much. Flirted like a hussy. (Who doesn't love the word hussy?) Talked to guys. Tried to be the carefree, crazy type.

But, it’s not me and it’s not what I want. I like a cocktail with the best of them, but I would rather be on a couch, cuddling someone, with a fire going, a movie on and a dog at my feet. This sounds much better to me than a Jaeger-bomb and a noisy bar.

So, what’s a girl like me to do? I try to meet people, though I am a smidge gun-shy. I talk to people in different settings. Lately, I have tried talking to interesting guys and then allowing myself to be open to the possibility. (a.k.a, I have given my number out). I have gotten nibbles, but no bites. I have friends that can get a million first dates and I can’t seem to get the phone call. I’m pretty proud that I have at least attempted to be open to the possibilities. I acknowledge that I am still jaded with a chip on my shoulder. Really though, I just want someone to notice me and like me for who I am…not who they think I should be.

Putting Myself Out There

There is this guy that I have liked for awhile. Dare I say, I have had a bit of a crush on him for years. Why, you ask, have I had a thing for someone for years and not done anything about it? Well, that's my MO. I crush from afar. It is easier to carry a little torch for someone than to actually put your self out there and into the pursuit. It's safer.

I like to think that I am bold and brave, but really, I am a coward. I don't like the idea of rejection. I flirt, but I don't really put myself out there. Really out there. Instead, I put on a bravado, smack talk a bit, become the sassy girl that calls it like she's sees it and stay safely hidden in my shell. And I wonder why my girlfriends get dates--even the crazy ones, while I am left drinking beer with the boys.

What I don't know how to do is fix it. How do you come out from behind the shell and fearlessly flirt? Without alcohol...(anyone can fearlessly flirt with alcohol...when in doubt, you trump the "drunk idiot" card, thereby excusing any rejection you may have received.) How come some girls (even the crazy, scary ones) can attract a guy every time and maintain his interest?

I usually attract the guy (though often, I am too clueless to realize it), but then I put on my strong face and the next thing I know, said guy is searching for tipsy bimbo. My friend advised me once to trump the bimbo card -- it works, but I don't want to get the guy that way. I don't want to force myself to be something I am not. So, how do I maintain myself, my opinions and my being, without turning into the scary, fem-nazi girl that intimidates guys? Is there a balance? Are there guys out there that want the pretty, smart, feisty, intriguing, fun-loving, slightly-flawed girl? That's a silly question. I know that there are...I just need to figure out how to approach them...