Heart Leaping out of EARS!

 Anna:  I think my heart is about to leap out of my ears....

 me:  lol why

 Anna:  Damn Pilar and her temptations!

She convinced me to go for a walk with her since it's so nice out (that didn't take much) but THEN she convinced me that a Thai Iced Coffee was a good idea

now i'm so hyper I'm shaking

I could run around the block or punch a tree right now

 me:  meaning

you already had a thai iced coffee?

 Anna:  yes.

Money Ain't Nothin But a Tool

So guess who got to fly to St. Louis and back in ONE day today? Me! YAY! We even accidentally drove on the wrong bridge and crossed into Illinois and back to Missouri within 5 minutes, so technically, i crossed to Missouri, Illinois, back to Missouri, and back to Illinois ALL IN ONE DAY! That's a lot of travel, folks. I've been up since 5am.

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.

Dad's Tutu

I love my family.

  me:im going to piece for pizza and karaoke tonight

  you wanna come?

  im going with the girls

3:21 PM Anna: lol, i'm good, i must do laundry, or I'll be wearing a tutu to work tomorrow

  and no one needs to see that

 me: im doing laundry on friday

  do you really own a tutu?

 Anna: plus it's too cold for a tutu

  um...do you really wanna know?

 me: yes

 Anna: yes

 me: lol why

 Anna: why not?

  I stole Dads.

  Hows THAT for a statement?

3:22 PM I stole dad's tutu.

Leave with a BANG

I broke up with someone today. Actually it was like 5 people. And they weren't too happy about it. Actually, I've been trying to break up with them for a while, but they just kept holding on to the relationship...I think they want me to be in their lives for a very long time. I love them, but I think it's time for something new, different, and more exciting!

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:

Dear Beloved Client,

I just want to start off by saying that it’s not you, it’s me. I’ve found someone else, and I think you know him quite well – the public accounting firm where I'm employed. I’ve had an amazing time with you these past 7 months, and I’ve learned about myself through this relationship and I hope that you’ve gained something from it as well. You are smart, warm, and extremely intelligent, and I will always remember these qualities about you. I hope you will forgive me but I think that it is time for us to break it off. We are moving in different directions in our lives, and we both deserve to grow, and I KNOW you will find someone new and better (well maybe not better, but as good at least J). I’ve cleaned out my stuff, and am moving out, but don’t worry because I will always be there for you if you need me, and I won’t be moving very far. I hope that you can find a place in your heart for me, as I have for you! Please do keep in touch, and I hope that we can maintain a long-lasting friendship.

Your loaned staff,

Fly

Now how would you say goodbye? Formally? Not this one over here. I've been cracking myself up all day :)

Switch it up...why not?

Life's not all about dating, but it's all that girls/women/birds tend to talk about the most! Well not this bird - let's fly a new route and just tell it like it is - all of it.

If you've spent more than 3 minutes with me, you'll realize a few things:

1) I don't stop talking. Sometimes I don't breathe for several minutes because I am talking SO much, and SO fast, that I forget to. I fit well into the Irish community where they talk as fast as possible without stopping so that no one else can interrupt. Not sure that's my incentive, but it's what happens.

2) Whatever I say usually....doesn't have a point. But...

3) Somehow, no matter how mundane my story is, it's funny. And you'll walk away maybe feeling a little dumber, maybe a little more confused, but nevertheless laughing at something - usually something at my expense. And I'm okay with that.

So we're gonna switch things up a bit. Why focus on finding love when you should just focus on finding yourself? Here's to finding myself, one oddball thing to the next - and maybe we'll get a laugh or two out of it - feel free to laugh at me all you want - you'd be doing it anyway without my permission ;)

Dating Schmating

So...the spanx are rightfully retrieved, and the brief panic that had overtaken me is partially over. However, I believe that I've come to the conclusion that Mr. Date is not Mr. Right, or even Mr. Right Now, and as a result, I've decided to break it off with him. One tiny little problem - my final belonging, a pair of hugely important white gold earrings (not nearly as important or mortifyingly embarrassing as the Spanx) is still at his place, and I refuse to end it with him unless I get them back. And just asking for them back isn't even that simple, since I effortlessly managed to toss one of the earrings casually behind the backboard of his bed, which happens to be an entire wall unit that he did not want to move in order to retreive what to him was, 'just' an earring. But that earring, is mine. And one day, when he wants a bigger and better wall unit, and he decided to finally move this one back and he finds my earring, and either remembers how great I was, or decides to do something shady like gift the earrings to his then-girlfriend, I'm going to get upset. Is it irrational, that I don't want to break up with him until he gets me my earrings? I guess that would be the equivalent of a guy wanting his shirt back that a girl may have slept in when she slept over and ended up taking home with her the next day, and decided that this is now and forever her shirt. I know girls that do that - for each guy they date, they get to keep a shirt - its like a rightful belonging and a symbol of how many guys they date, and how big or small of men they were (depending on the shirt size). I guess I should've taken a shirt and then we'd be even and I wouldn't be thinking about these stupid earrings. But I am who I am, and the earrings will be on my mind until retrieval, much like the spanx.

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 do? 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.

How long do you have to act uninterested to keep him interested?

Dating schmating. People waste too much time playing these games.

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.