Friday, March 15, 2013
That's What She Said
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Peanut Butter Babies
Monday, November 26, 2012
Pickle-tackular!
Monday, August 6, 2012
At least it's not for Crack
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Chocolate Misfortunes
Joy: I'm about to go postal on these oompas...it will go charlie and the chocolate factory on the bitchaz and there will be casualties at the chocolate fountain!
Friday, March 2, 2012
Talk Chocolate to Me
Friday, February 17, 2012
Kill her family?
Friday, February 10, 2012
Naughty snowflakes...
Friday, January 6, 2012
Heart Leaping out of EARS!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Money Ain't Nothin But a Tool
OOOH and guess who ripped a GIANT hole in her pantyhose in the knee area, just about the size of a cantaloupe, just after lunch, while at a client site, and a nice black dress on, when its 40 degrees out? ME!!! I mean, I guess it's kind of stylish, if you are a thug accountant. Haha. Never a dull day.So as it goes, I took a cab home from Midway Airport and when I got in the car, My Girl by the Temptations was playing softly from the radio. What a pleasant way to travel home after a long day of travel...naturally I ask my cabbie to turn it up and of course this turns into a lovely 20 minute conversation where I get what I really wanted - another personal story to add to my collection of real people to learn a lesson from in Chicago. Seems that I can always find out something new about someone else, and simultaneously about myself when delving into these conversations and I tell you, I never regret it. Not even when a cabbie locks me up until he takes me to an ATM so that I can pay him in cash because he pretends my credit card doesnt work - teaches me something about myself, like how loud I can really scream, and when is the real time to call 911. But that didn't happen this time.
This time, I got one of my favorite kind of stories - a story about Chicago, as told by a real Chicagoan. I forgot to catch his name, so we are gonna call him Buddy... A veteran who served in Vietnam, hunched over in a trench for a year, came back with back problems, supposed to get surgery at the VA hospital but after seeing another patient right after surgery, said 'no thank you' and decided to pray and exercise his way back to health, and now has almost no back pain (and he is 60 years old)...supposed to get foot surgery and remembers the doctor slightly nodding off while talking to him so said that he would think about it - the doctor died the next day and Buddy went home, decided to work out his foot pain through prayer and exercise.
Buddy grew up on the South Side, and had two guns at the ripe age of 11. Where he grew up, if you could walk, you could work. When he was two, he went with his grandma to pick cotton in the fields in the morning, then went with his grandpa to the saw mill to help there. There was no time to play around, but he made money doing both of those things. At age 2, he had a tab at the candy counter - when payday came around he knew how to pay off his debt for the candy he'd earned through his hard work. His grandpa told him then, that money ain't nothing but a tool - like a hammer that lets you hang pictures, or build a house, just a tool to help you live. If you make money, you spend it. And that's just one life philosophy Buddy lived by - not saving, but spending and living.
Buddy left home at 13 when he realized he didn't want to live like he did anymore. He rented an apartment on the North Side from his Uncle who told him if he could pay the rent, he could stay. He ran his own paper route and scrubbed floors at one of the hotels to make money. And he made enough to pay rent to his uncle, and then at 14, to get his own first apartment at 3950 N Pine Grove, and took one step onto the balcony of his 2 bedroom 2 bathroom apartment, looked out at the lake and the view of the city, and excused his language as he said this to me, 'Now this is how a muthafucka should live!'. Then he excused his language again. What a gentleman.
He said that the best view of the city is just outside the planetarium, but it used to be just behind it, in an area that is closed off now (but still accessible if you sneak in) and if you go there early in the morning, it is the most unbelievable place to get a view of the harvest moon while looking out at the spectacular view of the city.
He used to take his dates out to picnic on the beach just outside Roger's Park, on the rocks. I told him he could take me out any day. I think he liked that but he did mention his being married :) Tell me, why are all the good romantics taken? Oh well, he's a little above my age range :)
Needless to say, hearing a story like that and not even hearing all of it was nothing short of awesome. I wished him a happy holiday and thanked him for sharing his story - because now it's just another piece I can add to mine. I love Chicago, and what I love even more are all the people that make this city what it really is - AMAZING.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Dad's Tutu
me:im going to piece for pizza and karaoke tonight
Friday, November 11, 2011
Leave with a BANG
I'm talking about one of my clients of course. One that has had me wrapped around their little finger for 7, yes, I said SEVEN, months. Oh and they'd take me for longer. But I gotta shape up! Cause I need a man! And my heart's not set on youuuuu....haha okay that was weird. What's weirder is my break up letter:
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Switch it up...why not?
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Dating Schmating
On the downside (I guess there was no upside?), I've realized where it is that I go wrong with guys. In the beginning, I do it all the right way. I don't get too excited, I more or less act uninterested, busy, unattached - exactly how I feel. Then, when I actually do start to like them, I act like I like them. But what I've realized, is that you aren't supposed to ever show them that you like them. For some reason, men associate this attention with clinginess, lack of independence, and some button in them gets turned off the second that a girl shows interest. Be it the game, the chase, but its annoying. I don't like these rules, but what am I to d
o? I'm not clingy by any means, but I like attention just as much as the next girl. Guess its time for dating reality check. Next guy on the list, we'll be testing this theory.Dating schmating. People waste too much time playing these games.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Thanx but no Spanx

Recently, a friend introduced me to the miracle invention of Spanx, the elastic half body pantyhose that sucks you in, creating an illusion of being about 10 pounds lighter than you really are in a sacrificial process that restricts breathing for the entirety of a date. Genius idea. And as I was full ready to test out any product that made me look and feel slimmer, the lucky guy I happen to be dating now has been my test-drive for this miracle product. Success or failure? You decide.
SPANX Round 1: On my first date, when we just met, we go to dinner and drinks at a nice restaurant. I wear the Spanx under a long tank and jeans. Consistently thinking about whether my jeans are sagging and you could potentially see the Spanx from the back when I'm walking away to the bathroom. NERVE-racking. I think I was safe. Mr. Date notices my pedicured toes, and decides to tickle my toes - 'odd' i think to myself, but I giggle at the tickling flirtatiously. Later, I go to sit next to Mr. Date, to watch a basketball game that was playing (initially behind me), and Mr. Date decides to tickle my side. SPANX ALERT: spanx make you feel rock hard, not the normal squishy, soft me, but this illusion of some kind of six pack underneath that tank, that is still taking many years of hard work to form. Some of you may be thinking, WHY WAS HE TICKLING you on a first date??? I have NO idea. But the point was, there was no flirtatious giggling this time. "Stop, haha, no, seriously, STOP." I think I actually got angry at one point. Spanx negative for sure.
But somehow Date 1 turned into many more dates. So a second round of Spanx ensued.
SPANX Round 2: I happen to be surrounded by very skinny, beautiful girl friends with near perfect bodies. Spanx are pretty much a must when going in public with them and members of the opposite sex simultaneously. So I get all beautified and spend a good 10 minutes squishing pieces of my soft and cuddly body into these form constricting life suckers, and go to dinner and drinks with the group. Then dilemma ensues. What do I do with the Spanx when I go back to Mr. Date's place? Screw granny panties, a guy finding a girl in Spanx won't even know what to do with himself, they are like a granny panty nightmare times ten! So my girlfriend tells me the tips:
1) If you have a big purse, go in the bathroom and put the Spanx in the purse before going anywhere with Mr. Date.
2) If you don't have access to a big purse, go to the bathroom and hide the Spanx under the sink, where Mr. Date is unlikely to look in the next 3-8 hours, and then put them back on in the morning before leaving.
Duly noted. So I'm in his bathroom, taking off the spanx with no big purse in sight. Tip 2 must take place. I look under the sink, and there is nowhere to hide, plus he has useful things down there like mouthwash, and computer game magazines that he is bound to use within the time frame of my stay. Panic strikes. I notice there is also a linen closet in the bathroom, with towels and such. I decide this is my safe place, and hide the Spanx securely on the top shelf underneath a big towel, and proceed to sleeping over.
The next morning, I drive home, spend the day with my exhausting family and curl up into bed. As I think about my day and all that I was supposed to do, I realize one tiny, little, super significant fact. I forgot the last part of my friend's spanx advice. The part where in the morning, I retrieve the Spanx from their hiding place and put them back on! I had left the Spanx on that top shelf, and knew that I probably wouldn't be over at Mr. Date's place for at least another week. HOLY CRAP. What if he needs that towel, and upon reaching for a pair of nude 'granny panty'-like pantyhose falls on his face? Would he confront me? Would he just never call me again? How can I retrieve them? How can I face being dumped for leaving my Spanx in someone's linen closet? Panic panic panic! After about 2 days of freaking out and no calls or texts from Mr. Date, I start becoming sure that it is over. The discovery of the Spanx are sure to be my doom and downfall, letting yet another man free into the non-spanx-mistake driven world.
Finally, I text an innocent, "how's it goin" text to test the waters and the response seems friendly and natural. So far the Spanx are undiscovered and safe. But I'll keep you posted, just in case.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Mating Game

Greg
so what's on the agenda for this weekend?
11:28pmMe
welllllll
i actually just got home
and im going go this retreat tomorrow
its called a russian shabbaton
and you basically celebrate shabbat ( jewish holiday every weekend) with a bunch of russian jews from the chicago area
from fri-sun
and sit around and talk about being an immigrant and what it feels like to be a russian jew
and in between all the lectures and talks and activities, we drink vodka
and the russian jewish men scope out the russian jewish women for possible mating opportunities
because no one is actually there by will, everyone's parents bought them a ticket and talked them into it
because we are all miserable single russian jews that need to mate and make brilliant russian jewish babies as soon as possible
11:30pmGreg
wow! nice
so basically its a singles retreat
11:31pmMe
right...
and the women are significantly better looking than the men, because god did not want to make it easy for us to mate, but instead made the russian jewish men significantly smarter than the average male, and gave them amazing well paying jobs and zero social skills
so it usually takes a lot of vodka for this so called expected mating to occur
11:32pmGreg
you sound like steve irwin right now
except you're not talking about animals
11:32pmMe
hahaha
11:32pmGreg
crikey!



