Chad & Trixie

Remember in high school how everyone had a label? The sporty people were jocks, the smart people were nerds, the people whose wardrobes consisted of too many metallica t-shirts were stoners. I think you see where I'm going. I'm not usually an advocate of labels, I actually hate them, but this next one is funny to me. (Plus, I got made fun of by a Trixie the other day so nah nah nah nah nah) Anyway, here in Chicago they have their own little labels. For instance... Like ya know those girls that like totally wear the t-shirts that like totally show their tummies, and like always have the best chunky blonde highlights? Yeah, well they're called Trixies. And dude, you know the guys that are still all about how popular they were in high school that drive the raddest cars and date the Trixies? Yeah, they're referred to as Chads. So Chad & Trixie generally live in the more affluent neighborhoods, and they wouldn't be caught dead taking public transportation. *Gasp* (I've actually heard a girl say that) And as one final generalization, Chad & Trixie aren't extremely tolerable of people that aren't of the same little cookie cutter lifestyle. Enter Melissa, nice girl that thinks that everyone is inherently good. Melissa who considers everyone a true-blue friend until they prove otherwise. Melissa who smiles and says "Good Morning" to strangers. Chad & Trixie HATE Melissa. Melissa dresses funny. Sometimes Melissa wears too much black. Chad & Trixie HATE black! Hasn't Melissa heard that pink is the new black?? Melissa must be one of those weird Goth chicks. Melissa smells like patchouli. Chad & Trixie HATE patchouli! Doesn't Melissa know that if Calvin Klein didn't make it, it's not perfume? Melissa must be one of those stinkin' hippies. Chad & Trixie must cut her down and show her that they are superior! WHEW! Ok, this is starting to turn into a rant so I'm just going to tell you the story...

I have a brand new shiny bicycle. It's a super sweet green vintage style cruiser with a basket in the front. It's my new best friend. I LOVE my bike. I ride my bike everywhere. I even bought a really cool bike trailer for Adrian so that I can ride it to work everyday. So, the other night my bike and I went for a long ride around my favorite place to live...Chicago. We were having the best of times, not a care in the world. Then we ran into Chad & Trixie. Now, at first I didn't know that they were Chad & Trixie. I thought they were a nice, normal, non-judgmental couple. Maybe they were Joe & Sara. (spelled without the 'h') Being the nice girl that I am, I smiled at who I thought were my friendly neighbors, Joe & Sara, as I passed on my bike. But as I passed, Joe & Sara morphed into that horrible, materialistic, half-witted couple Chad & Trixie. Trixie called out in her shrill little voice "dit di dit di di di, dit di dit di di di" (think Wizard of Oz during the tornado scene when the wicked witch rides past Dorothy's window on her bike) She was making fun of my bike! Whore! Why in the world would she make fun of me? I seriously don't understand. Was she that insecure? I myself am an insecure person at times, but it doesn't make me want to cut others down. It makes me want to avoid eye contact or stay in the house all day. Why would she do that? The only thing I can figure is that she caught Chad staring at my ass as I passed on my super sweet bike and it was the only way she could get the attention back on herself. Who knows.

Listen, Do You Want to Know a Secret? Doo Wah Doo...

A few weeks ago I stumbled across this really awesome blog called Post Secret. Here's the description from the site so you get the jist of what it's all about:
"PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail-in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard."

I love this site. I wait all week for Sunday, just so I can read the new secrets. The secrets range from normal to sad to completely crazy. This one has got to be the most shocking, so far...


WHAT? Oh my lord, can you imagine that? That has to be the BIGGEST secret ever! How does one live with a secret that huge? On one hand it seems really selfish of that person, but on the other hand it was that person's chance to start over. Maybe their life was so horrible that it was like their personal "Get out of jail FREE" card. Pass Go and collect your freaking $200. That's awesome. What would you do in that type of situation? I think I would go to Europe or India and just live out the rest of my life in peace. Learn how to weave handbags and sell them in a little marketplace. Wow. I seriously hope they put all of the postcards into a book because I want one.

Bag Lady

This lady that comes into my place of employment always seems to have the coolest bags. The other day I asked her where she buys them and she told me that her husband sells them in his online store. She said they sell hemp bags, reusable shopping bags, and other such earth-friendly items. So, I checked it out and it turned out to be a really cool little store. My favorite bag is the Ultimate Hemp Street Fair Bag, in black. Plus, you can get a little "Plastic Bags Blow" activist kit, which includes 2 pins, 50 stickers, and a t-shirt for only $3. Good times.

Dewey Decimal

Lately I've been toying with the idea of becoming a Librarian. It's actually my new obsession. Partly because i'm a huge nerd, and partly because it would aide me in my quest for complete solitude. My current occupation is steadily becoming too much for me to handle. Too much public interaction...I am not a fan. Life would be close to perfect if everyday was filled with the smell of old books and the occasional reprimanding "shhhhh!" ....*sigh* A girl can only dream.

Dear Jesus, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?

All I really wanted was to pick up my new couch. Sounds simple enough, right? Now, before I start in on this horrifying tale I feel the need to explain something. I'm not one of those girls that needs fancy clothes, expensive cars, and so on and so forth. I love the little things in life. I feel like I'm pretty low maintenance. My new couch is this really awesome retro black leather couch that I found on craigslist for a whopping $40. It's way cooler than anything I've seen in stores. So when I say that all I really wanted was to pick up my new couch, I mean it from the bottom of my Jesus fearin' heart. Ok, here she goes...

A couple days ago as I was searching through the "for sale" section of craigslist I stumbled across the find of the century. (well, my century anyway) A super sweet retro black leather couch, that just so happened to be a sofa bed. Score! I quickly e-mailed to let the owner know that I wanted the couch. I say quickly because, as many of you may know, things on craigslist tend to go pretty fast. Especially super sweet things. The owner wrote me back and said that it was, in fact, still available and that I was the first person to inquire about it, but there were about 10 people in line behind me. In other words, I better make my move or it was going to the next highest bidder. I called the number in the e-mail and said "I will be there Tuesday." Just like that, the couch was mine. Victory. Now here's where it gets tough. I didn't have a way to pick the couch up. But hey, I can always go to U-Haul. Right? That's what I thought too. I'm glad to see you're still with me. Unfortunately, there's this person in my life that tends to mess things up and generally suck the joy out of life. We'll call him Temo. Temo suggested that we borrow a van from his friend at work. (Here's the part where I get sucked into another one of Temo's horrible, day-wrecking ideas.) "Well sure" I say, all innocent and doe-eyed. "That would save me some cash." Wrong. So, like a moron that should know better, I head out with Temo to pick up the van. The van, or the vehicle of Satan as I call it, was deceivingly normal looking. So we headed towards our destination. We found the owners house easily and the couch was even better than the freakin' picture. I was stoked. Then, with everyone smiling and happy we started the 45 minute trip back to Chicago. About 15 minutes into the trip, the van starts making a noise that it probably shouldn't be making. Then comes a horrible, burning stench. Then the sound of both the van and my day coming to a screeching, grinding halt. Enter Temo's annoyingly dramatic behavior and quick temper and you've got me wishing I had a razorblade and a tub of warm water. My idea was to flag down someone with a truck and catch a ride back home. Temo thought that was a bad idea because "We can't just leave his van here on the side of the expressway!" Well why the heck not? You don't lend people crappy stuff! You deserve to have your van towed by the state! I just want my couch in my apartment safe & sound. Then out of nowhere a tow-truck shows up. I explain to the nice, money-grubbing man that "It's not our van, and we don't have any money, so run along your merry way." Then Temo butts in and says "Go ahead and tow it." What? You idiot! We are going to have to pay for that!! Whatever. So we ended up paying $143 to have some other guy's van towed, and no way to get my couch home. Bitches! I had to wait 2 more days and rent a U-Haul (guess my idea wouldn't have been so bad, huh?) to get my couch home. So from now on I will refer to Temo as "La Bola de Mala Suerte" that's Spanish for "the ball of bad luck." And Temo, that's Spanish for "asshole."

I feel the need to explain to those that don't know me that well, that I'm not usually a person that uses "curse words" except in situations when I'm joking. Ask my mother. So, if I offend anyone, I apologize. But if you knew Temo you'd call him an asshole too. I promise.

Captain, There's Dissent In the Ranks!

Today was not the best of days. Unfortunately, this is the norm at my current job. Take the fact that it takes me two weeks to make as much as I used to make in one day and couple it with my strong dislike for my co-worker/boss and you've got a recipe for pure, unadulterated hatred. It's gotten to the point that I don't even try to excel anymore. I just go in, do as I'm told, and go home. No more, no less. I don't even talk to her because if I did I would surely lose my job. Not that it would be that bad. In fact, I have thought seriously about quitting pretty much everyday for the past 2 weeks. She has to know that I hate her because every time she talks/barks orders at me, I just give her the ol' dead eyes and a slow blink and reply with a monotone "yeah." Surely that reeks of unhappiness in ones job. But this lady is freakin' relentless. Last week she told me that I HAD to come in on my ONLY day off. When I stated that "umm..well, that's my ONLY day off", she didn't care and persisted to say that I HAD to. So, being the good little worker bee that I am, I showed up. Much to my chagrin, I later found out that the real reason that I HAD to be there on my ONLY freakin' day off was so that she could have a freakin' 5 day weekend. Whore. But wait, that's not all. She also has a lot of little weird hang-ups. Today she told me that I couldn't bring my backpack to work anymore. WHAT? WHY? I swear to the Lord Jesus Christ that this was her answer... "Because when you put it on your back, it looks like your leaving." HELLO! CRAZY LADY!! Are you freaking serious? So I told her that I'm bringing my backpack, sorry, but if it bothers her that much, I won't put it on my back. Freakin' whore.

As a seriously funny sidenote, when I ran the spell check it suggested that I replace the word freakin' with the word foreskin. That would have made the last sentance "foreskin whore." Hahahahahahaha! *cough* Sorry, that wasn't very ladylike.

Stay Home and Eat All the Frickin' Chips Kip!

Today I had the pleasure of watching a girl on a bike pull her boyfriend, who just so happened to be on rollerblades, down the street ala Napoleon Dynamite. Illustrated here for those who may not be familiar:


Being the girl that I am, as they were passing I took the opportunity to say "It'd be nice if you could pull me into town." Either they didn't hear me or they thought I was a moron because no one said anything. Oh well, I laughed.

New Obsessions

Ok, so if you happen to know me at all you know that I have vast array of ever-changing and expanding obsessions. Or simply put, a lot of things that I really, really like but might know absolutely nothing about. Then again I may know quite a bit about it, you never know. Let's take the cello, for instance. Before March of 2004, I had never seen a cello, except for in pictures or on television. But when I walked into the Lapeer Music Center, on that fateful Thursday in March, and saw her hanging on the wall in all her "hand-carved" glory, I knew I'd found a forever friend. Thus is born a new obsession. My new obsessions of late, just this week in fact, range from chess to my new bike. The chess obsession stems from a trip that Adrian and I took to the Children's Museum. Oh my lord, picture a giant-sized chess board with giant-sized chess pieces and a 27 year old crazy lady hoggin' the whole thing....thus is born a new obsession. My next step is to purchase a chess board of my very own and teach myself to play. Let the good times roll. Or, as fate might have it, I might get the chess board and never learn to play. Kinda like my good friend the cello over there.

Before I go, I would like to give a "shout out" to my newly acquired fan base. Hi Jennifer!! Just so you know, this makes us instant best friends.

As a side note, for those of you who are even slightly freaked out by the convienence store chain "White Hen." (Grace) They just so happen to have some really freaking good deli sandwiches. Think swiss cheese, fresh ingredients, and toasted deli rolls that rival, even surpass, the fresh baked bread of Subway. May I suggest the Garden Market Vegetarian? Heck yes I will.

Things That I Find Mildly Amusing..

This is going to be an on-going, ever expanding post, simply because there are a whole heck of a lot of things that amuse me and I'm just too lazy to put them all into words in one sitting.

1. The crazy guy on the train that "poses" like he's at a photo shoot and flames out if you make direct eye contact. I must admit that he is quite possibly one of my favorite things about Chicago. I make a point to stare, Each. And. Every. Time. just to watch him cause a scene. I hope to one day catch him, in all his wacked out glory, on video so that I can cherish him for years to come. Oh crazy train man, you will always hold a place in my heart. Actually, I'm gonna go ahead and give props to all the crazy people that I encounter on my daily commute. Thank you to the lady today that shouted out "I've got pinched nerves! And if they keep pinching me, I'm gonna pinch them back!" You brought a smile to my face. And then I caught myself thinking, "how is that going to help?"

2. Craigslist. There just aren't words. But I will say that this is humor in it's purest form. I suggest simply placing yourself in front of your computer for hours on end and reading each & every one of the "best of craigslist" posts.

3.

Yeah, so like I said, I'm lazy. Later.

Wow...

Ok. So I went to get my new haircut and it seems that
maybe super short hair wasn't quite the direction I
should have taken. Yeah, well, lesson learned. But
hey, on the upside, I can rock out a mean mohawk! And
you can bet that shiny nickle in your pocket that I
will! Just as soon as I master the art of the mohawk
enough to venture outside of the house. Maybe I can
befriend one of those "ultra-cool" hipster kids and get
them to show me how. Here's an of example of
what my hair is capable of:



I'll bet once I get the hang of it, I'll love the new 'do. But alas, when I tire of the mohawk, as I'm sure I will, I think I'm gonna go with dread extensions. (I can hear the *gasps* and *tsk,tsks* now...Susan & Grace) So since I'm getting so freaking awesome at this picture posting thing, here's a picture of what I might look like in a few weeks:


I'll rock it and you'll freaking love it, ladies.