It’s Always Cloudy In Chicago
Like Laguna Beach on crack…Archive for November, 2007
Lily Apologizes (And Laughs A Little In The Process)
So, here’s the deal, guys. Saturday night, on my train home from the parents’ house, your own darling Lily got tanked beyond belief. Whoever thought it was a good idea to keep serving her those tiny little vodka bottles should be taken out back and shot.
But, yeah. So, that happened. And I, in true form, got a little melancholy. It was a long train ride alone, I was drunk, I missed Christian, blah blah blah. So, I typed… and typed and typed… and came up with what you saw up here two days ago.
Well, I went back. I realized that even for me, and even for my crazy inability to not divulge private matters to the world, that this was a bit too private. I took it down. For those of you who did have to be subjected to it, I apologize. Seriously. I get out of hand, and that’s what comes out.
I sobered up, and I’m okay now. Audrey is putting me on a sober December… we can smoke, but no getting drunk or drug usage, which is the best idea I’ve heard in ages.
Thanksgiving was fun… we had family in from a couple different places (including some quasi-family I had never met before), and your resident vegetarian spent her time mowing on cranberry sauce, potatoes, and pumpkin pie. Friday I spent with Carrie and did the best thing ever.
I went into my old work at home, the place I return to every break and summer time to get treated like a piece of meat while serving the same to assholes who tip poorly, and let them know I would not be returning.
Ever.
And I did this with a Ketel One Diet with lime. It was brilliant.
The Dynamic Duo Stuffs a Turkey
Happy Thanksgiving, kiddos.
It’s been a crazy little week and Lily and I have been slacking with the posts, I know. Last week, was super stressful with me killing the economy and all.
Last Friday, I needed to de-stress. I had one hell of a shopping spree with Ana. Later that night, I managed to dance the night away with Goggles (who is a really really bad dancer, but in the most adorable kind of way). Lily managed to do the one thing I told her not to do, which was drunkenly tell Goggles how I feel about him (Thanks, Lil). Then at some point, she managed to drunkenly flash us at Barleycorn. Ha, I know. What a skank, right? I thought that he would never speak to me again (since he told me that he never talks to girls who like him if he does not like them back), but it worked in my favor. I figure that he has to dig me a little bit since he is still talking to me and hanging out with me. So, you’re lucky this time, Lillian, but no more drunken professions of love when a) you’re inebriated and b) not involved in either party.
Saturday, I met up with the loves of my life, Karly and Alyssa, and we partied it up with Mark and company since he was throwing a party. Things got a little nutty (there was Jungle Juice and Jungle Juice and I are not the best of friends). I attacked a boxing machine and spent the night hanging out with Goggles friend. No, we didn’t do anything (even though that was my plan). I really like Goggles and I just didn’t think it was in my best interest if I want to pursue something special with him (I know. I’m gay).
And this whole passed week, I’ve just been coasting through. Saw Beowulf on Monday–I realized that I hated the epic and that there was no need for me to see the movie. I learned a few things though–Angelina Jolie can fuck whoever she wants and it will haunt a man forever; and if your arm rips off of your body, you’re screwed because you automatically die.
The rest of the week I was partying hard with old friends and closing down bars. I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone until I saw them all again. And although, the suburb bars do not compare to the one’s we have in the city, the patrons know how to throw down and have a shit ton of fun. I saw everyone from Preschool to Excess Baggage to kids that I went to grade school with and of course, Karly and Alyssa, so it was automatically an awesome time.
I will be reuniting with everyone again tomorrow for a last hoorah at a friend’s birthday bash/lingerie party tomorrow at Enclave (Googles will be there too I think… I was so happy that he conveniently made it out to the suburbs last night and that Mark convinced him to go to the same bar that the girls and I were at). I’m quite excited. I might dress a little skankier than usual for the occasion. This might even call for an emergency shopping trip.
But I guess , I just want to take this time and state everything that I’m thankful for, since it’s Thanksgiving and all. I figure the occassion calls for it.
- My Family. I’m so glad that my family is pretty attractive and that I didn’t end up ugly. I’m pretty glad that I’m cute because God knows that I’m not the brightest crayon in the box and that my looks have gotten me a lot of things. I’m kind of glad that they don’t expect me to be a rocket scientist and that they will always think of me as “the cute one”. No pressure there.
- The Crazy Bitches I Call Friends. I am partial to you guys because there’s only a select bunch that I truly truly enjoy. You’re always a guaranteed good time and I could talk to them about anything.
- My Cell Phone. It is truly an extension of my body. I don’t know what I would do with out it.
- M.A.C. Cosmetics. Because they make me look flawless (even though it really doesn’t take much).
- Andy Samberg. There should be no reason for why I’m thankful for him except that he is the most beautiful, funniest man in the universe.
- That Homeboy Broke Up With Me When He Did. Ugh. I would have been engaged by now, dudes! How crazy would that have been? No crazy stories. No random make out sessions. No slutting around town. No crazy list of bad ideas. No Goggles (he wouldn’t have even been a blip on my radar since when I am in a fully committed relationship–which I was–I have boy blinders on). My life would pretty much suck major!
- Skinny Jeans. They just make my legs look long and my ass look fierce!
- Justin Timberlake. Without his music, I would not be such a merry drunk.
- The Gays. They are just so fab. Without them we would not know what is cool and what is hot. We need them in our society. They make society work and the world a better place in general.
- The Almighty Credit Card. The emergency credit card has done wonders for my wardrobe. Without I wouldn’t be looking as fresh and clean as I usually do. Also, it has closed a few bar tabs in its day. I can’t help it if I live beyond my means. I’m cool like that. Hollar!
I think that is it. I was looking forward to not waking up early, but I’m thinking that I might have to just for the sake of having something to wear tomorrow night. Hope you guys are all fattened up. I have a feeling you all are going to purge tomorrow. Kidding! Not really, but for the sake of the kids, I never said I was a role model.
Lily Takes A Random Tangent And Runs With It
I woke up early this morning because my father texted me. That’s right, my father. My mother does it every once in a while too. I’m not too comfortable with this little bit of information. I mean, I thought parents didn’t know how to use technology. Now granted, it is just a testament to the fact that I’m a good teacher. I was the one who sat them down (separately, of course. They hate each other with a fiery passion.) and taught them how to use their phones, computers, dvd players, sound systems, etc.
And, let me tell you, I’m not even that good at it. So, when was it that our generation’s differentiation became a bridged gap? I was sitting in class, analyzing a poem (it’s what you do as an English major. I can’t imagine why anyone would choose a real degree ever.), and we started talking about a specific poem that was touching on how the previous generation always envies the newest generation. But, as was brought up in class, there is nothing to envy of our generation. We living in a technologically savvy world, but we are disconnected from everyone around us. We have all the comforts we could ask for (at least in this country) but we are riddled with mental disease and disorder in extreme quantities. How is it that the “Age of Information” has become the “Age of Depression”?
Now, of course, there are certain things that we have that our parents didn’t. Like, internet. And cell phones, digital cable, dvds, cds… anybody else notice a trend? They got free love, LSD, birth control, and a war they wanted to fight for. We got a bunch of gadgets that force us even further away from human contact. I don’t really see the logic there. I think, somewhere along the lines, we got fucked. And saying that, I know that the generation after me will probably be even more fucked than I am. They won’t know what it’s like to go play outside with their friends, because they’ll be too busy playing with their game systems and high-tech toys. I at least got the luxury of being able to run around as a child, using my imagination, stopping to smell the Lily of the Valley (no pun intended… I was just a very silly child. Lily of the Valley are my favorite flowers though. Heads up.) and having a grand ol’ time without a care in the world. With every kid on Ritalin, Adderall, Prozac, and more, it’s no wonder that kids just sit in their rooms all day, playing Halo on a PS3. They don’t know what else to do, since they’re pretty much high all the time.
Of course, I can’t talk. I’m on drugs too. But thats my choice. And I feel bad for these kids who wander around like zombies because their overbearing parents are unable to handle them without doping them up.
So, maybe that’s the problem with this and the next generation: bad parenting. And, I have a way to stop the cycle…
Sterilize. Everyone.
Hey, it could work.
Audrey is a Threat to the Economy
I realize that the economy is a necessary entity in the world that we live in—with all the importing and exporting and what not that we do; and the whole supply and demand nonsense. Without it, I would not be able to go shopping and forgo my career as a marketer…yadda, yadda, yadda. I get it. The economy is necessary.
However, I would like to argue why I do not think it should be a necessary part of my curriculum. The reasons being: it is stupid and I hate it. I literally want to set it ablaze (and yes, I have noticed that lately I do have pyromaniac tendencies) and kill it. I think the economy is horse shit simply because it makes my life more difficult.
Why do I need to know how to minimize marginal cost without reducing the output of production? You know what my answer would be on an exam? Hire more friggin’ immigrants or outsource your labor to a third world country. But unfortunately, that is not one of t he choices that I am given on a multiple choice test. Also, there is no mathematical proof… well, legitimate mathematical proof that people don’t frown upon (stupid hippies). I mean, I guess I can bs an algorithm (immigrants/third world country labor + higher rate of production + jacked up output prices = lower marginal cost + higher overall revenues), but I have a feeling I would a) displease my professor and b) be deemed as a “bad person”. To be honest, I have accepted the latter, however, I must avoid the former if I want to pass this stupid, stupid class.
Everything that is discussed in regards to the stupid economy is retarded. Personally, I do not think it pertains to anything relevant that I want to do. I just want to make pretty advertisements and launch bitchin’ campaigns; maybe cause a few eating disorders, control what is deemed as “cool”, and push people to believe that who they are is what they own. That isn’t so much to ask for. I know. I am simple like that.
I do not care how much it costs a company to produces what they want to me to market. I do not care what the consumer has to pay. My sole purpose in life is to make whatever product it is super duper sexy. I am just there to create a demand (at a pretty damn good price).
But yeah, I purpose that we stage a coup. Yes, you and I! Let’s kill the economy. Okay, maybe not the real economy because the world would totally go in the shitter, but on the smaller scale, economy related classes. I believe they call them economics. For I deem them unnecessary and irrelevant to my life. Not only are they dry and boring and full of numbers and algebra (yuck!), they put me in the most awful mood.
So blast you, economy. I demand that you supply your carcass for a good old fashion ass kicking. And, oh yes, I will see you in hell.
The Dynamic Duo Meet Their Match
Why was this weekend so lovely, you might ask?
We spent it with our favorite SOVA! Audrey and I have been looking forward to this weekend for quite a while now. I bailed on a bunch of classes (and tutoring… thanks guys.) to see my favorite Californian, and in my very humble opinion, we had a lovely time. Thursday was spent in a binge drinking (and for SOVA and me, binge eating. Okay, maybe that was more just me.) haze, as well as some deep chatting between us. Probably too deep. Granted, it was needed, but still. No sleep all night, just hanging out, chatting, getting fucked up, and enjoying the wonders of Wii bowling. Audrey passed out early (by early, I mean about 4 am.) and we woke her up two and a half hours later so she could go home.
Friday, slightly less refreshed and lacking sleep, SOVA and I were Audrey-less. (It was her mommy’s b-day. She’s such a cute little daughter!) We spent it in a lovely Italian trattoria for dinner, a little more of Wii (I swear, I’m addicted to it) and, drumroll please…
the BEST concert ever!
We went and saw a personal favorite, Say Hi (formerly Say Hi To Your Mom) who played with The A-Sides and The Velvet Teen. As I expected, and very much hoped, Say Hi blew me out of the water. They played tons and tons of new stuff, as well as some older things, including practically all of my favorites. It was like heaven, only better, sweatier, and with more booze. Velvet Teen was mediocre… nothing horrible, just too bassed out. A-Sides were throughly enjoyable for me, though. A bit twangy, and totally up my alley. I spent the end of the concert standing up at the edge of Subterranean’s stage, jumping around as if I had rhythm. Which I don’t. So, it was probably hilarious. I got to have a chat with Eric, as Say Hi is essentially just him and a touring band, and just stare (and most likely drool) while soaking up his awesomeness. I was ridiculously starstruck, and it was great.
Saturday night was supposed to be Do Make Say Think, but I think I died. After work, I collapsed from exhaustion, and woke up just long enough to determine that there was no way I would be able to get off my couch long enough to put pants on and head out to Lincoln Park. This I now regret, as SOVA left early to attend to some personal matters, and I didn’t get to see him again. Totally blew, if you ask me, but I certainly understand. Remember that, punk.
But, if I remember correctly, Audrey got to see SOVA on Saturday. I bet she’ll have a better story for that night, since all I saw was the insides of my eyelids.
Audrey Sets Her Apartment on Fire (Kinda… It Was Well-Contained)
I saw you with her dear.You tried to hide away. She left through the back door. You always had your secret ways. I acted so serene. I was so drowsy then. My fault. I’m so careless. I gave you one too many pills. My oh my. My alibi. Restore my fate in these. Words so clear. My failure dear. Lies tucked away in me. You wanted to play this game. I’ll play it too. Come here baby I will show you what this girl can do. A mattress for a coffin suites you very fine. You’ll feel me with my others as you’re sewn under the seams. - “Cardigan Weather” by Meg & Dia
This is probably my favorite song of the moment and yes, I am getting a little sentimental. WARNING: This may be the only time that you will ever witness Audrey get a little emo… so get the Kleenex because the eyeliner is going to smudge. This weekend was a little rough for me (granted… it probably didn’t seem that way). It was E-day this weekend (I’m not going to say what the E stands for, but just know that it isn’t anything good and why I commemorated this day is beyond me). It was pretty much the ex’s and my anniversary.
I finally got the nerve to rid myself of the ex factor–got a new phone (his number not included and none of his saved text messages); literally threw out all of his clothes (except the two that I sold and got a pretty sweet hat); burnt everything he ever bought me which included flowers and stuffed animals (FYI: teddy bears don’t take to fire easily) and every picture we ever took. As far as, he is concerned, he was never in my life (that is actually much easier to say because for some reason it’s easy for me to lie about it). I started the fire in my bathroom. My roommate wasn’t too pleased. I think that it still smells like burning in my apartment right this second. I’m sure she will look back on it and laugh… maybe not today, but one day.
And it did make me feel better to cut him out of my life for the final time (because it was a very long arduous process), but that feeling of redemption over him was definitely short-lived. Maybe it is because I sobered up or maybe it’s because I was still drunk and thinking (which usually isn’t the best of combinations). But I have a feeling it was because I went lurking (and I know that is super creepy and borderline obsessive, but trust me for some reason all girls do it). For some reason, I just wanted to see if he still had the e-mails from when we were dating saved and part of me was glad he did. For a second, I thought, well, I’m glad I still cross his mind from time to time.
And then I kept going and I found out more than I probably needed to know. I know that I set myself up for that and I fully admit that it was 100% my fault. But I really didn’t need to see pictures of his new girlfriend and him. And I didn’t need to read about how he happy he was. (AGAIN, I’m fully aware that I was the one lurking). I am a happy person. I am pretty content with the life that I am leading and all that malarkey, but I think it is just knowing that he is happier than me and with someone else–that is what is killing me.
And I think that the only thing that is really bothering me about him being with someone else is that I am so much prettier than her. I know. I know. That is not a reason to get all riled up and I know that looks aren’t everything and I’m sure that she has a sparkling personality. I’m totally sounding super vain right now… But COME ON! I am so much hotter than she is. I’m smart. I’m funny. I can quote man movies out the wha-zoo. I don’t cry during chick flicks because I don’t watch them. I’m into guy things. I’m not saying that I am perfect, but I am was the closest to it that he could ever get. It’s sad because had she been prettier, I would have bitched still, but I probably would have taken it with a grain of salt and accepted it because he upgraded. But no, it was a total downgrade and I am completely perplexed by the whole situation.
So on E-Day I drank and I drank and I drank some more. I think that I drank for a good 12 hours met up with a number of different cohorts to celebrate this momentous occasion. SOVA was in town, so I gladly met up with him for a few rounds. We got pretty belligerent and pretty much got kicked out of a bar at like 1 in the afternoon for beating up on each other. We brought political incorrectness to the streets until he got tired and went home, while I met up with Ana and some of the gang from high school.
Guess what we did? That’s right we drank and drank til we couldn’t drink anymore. It was pretty silly. I think at one point I passed out on the bar floor, which was pretty amusing to my friends, not so much to the bouncers. Needless to say we left and got food and I threw up all the way home. It was pretty righteous.
And I have come to this unbelievable revelation, which I kind of knew from the beginning, but I’m going to go ahead and state the obvious. Even though I may think that I lost “the one” (because I was pretty set on marrying this ex), I have the best people in my life right now–hands down, the best friends a girl can ask for. Between Lily and SOVA and Ana and Alyssa and Karly… right now, I don’t think I need anyone else. And I know that I am perfectly content with that. Even though I will bitch about the current flavor of the week and boy melodrama, these people that were there for me this weekend are definitely the constants that I need and that I’m so happy to have.
And, yes, I am done being emo. And no, Lily, I did not get the word “fuck” tattooed on my body. You have to be out of your mind to think that I would actually do that. I’m looking forward to the weekend. Gretchen is coming to visit on Friday and re-celebrate my birthday since she wasn’t around. And my two counterparts, Alyssa and Karly (I probably couldn’t live without them) will be home this weekend. I’m stoked.
Again, I apologize for the emo rant. Let’s never speak of this moment again. Kisses.
Lily Almost Dies… For Like The Hundredth Time
So, in the interest of frankness, I’ll get to the point: I’m super clumsy. I drop a lot of things, break things, accidentally trip and fall, and get caught in exceptionally awkward situations. This is one of the main reasons why Audrey and I get along. She’s klutzy, but I can make even her feel like a graceful little swan.
Case and Point: Last week, I was at work in Evanston, doing my thing. It’s a breakfast/brunch place, so we open early. And by early, I mean my ass has to wake up at four to get there by six. And you wonder why there are nights when I just don’t feel like going out. So, it’s about 6:45 and I’ve got two tables: a regular who comes in every day right as we open, and some guy I’d never seen before. We were super dead, and I was bored, so I figured that I’d get some of my sidework done and start cutting lemons.
I bet you can see where this is going.
Cut to about five minutes later, my hand in a sink, my finger cut down to the bone, and blood is literally pouring out of it as if that were a fun idea. My manager, who happens to be a great guy but also a little nervous, decides that it would be a good idea to call me an ambulance. Yes, kids, you heard that crazy Lily right. An ambulance. For a finger cut. Now granted, it was a very deep cut, and it wouldn’t stop bleeding, but I’m a big girl. I’ll buck up, stick some gauze on it, and go about my day. But no, kind manager says, I must go get stitches in the ER. So, in the interest of my job and his sanity, I decided to go. Also, the ambulance had arrived by this point, lights, sirens, and the whole fucking gang, and I just figured “What the hell? I’m here, they’re here, sounds like a party.” and hopped in. Okay, so I wasn’t as cheery as that. I was bleeding pretty bad, give me a break. But, off to the hospital I went, where I got four nice little stitches, and a Nurse Practitioner who understood my plight. He had gone to my college, and was waiting tables too… and having that kinship of the broke college student idea, he knew just what to do: he gave me a handful of about fifty bandaids and some antibacterial stuff… because he knew (correctly, I might add) that I didn’t have any of that at home.
Yes, even my little finger cuts become glamorous excursions. Imagine what an actual injury would involve.
I was home by nine am. Most of my friends weren’t even awake at this point. I, on the other hand, took a Xanax (What? I was emotionally exhausted.) and passed the fuck out.
Fast forward to today, my first day back since the “incident”. I was grand. It was a clumsy day, yes, but I was a new girl! Everything was great. Everything until I asked my manager to sharpen the knife again so I could cut some lemons and get my sidework done.
Now, I have three bandaged fingers.
Fuck.
Needless to say, I am now no longer to handle knives at work. It’s a rule. They wrote it and everything.
Moral of the Story: Lemons fucking suck. So do huge knives used to cut them. ‘Nuff said.
The Dynamic Duo Become A Separate Solo Act, Part II
Now that I have gotten up off my back (Thanks, Audrey.), I guess it’s time for me to stop being the hidden one of the group, and actually earning my keep… though Audrey really did say it all. That absolutely amazing boyfriend of mine, Christian, has returned to the Windy City to make me, his lovely girlfriend, happy once again. Because my god, I get fucking bitchy when I don’t get laid enough. Ask anyone. This is probably where Aud will jump in and tell you how I turn into Medusa and scream obscenities at little children (which may or may not actually happen, and I may or may not have any control over it… back the fuck off), but that won’t be happening for at least two weeks or so.
Because I got laid!
We started off the weekend a long el ride back from Midway, peppered with odd looks from strangers. We’re not usually canoodlers, but it was that kind of time. I mean, seriously, five weeks? That’s obscene. We went home, had some sex (which would be repeated about ten more times over the course of the weekend. Literally. I’m insatiable.), I cooked a bit, and then sat around and watched sports. We are very, very, boring. There were a couple weekend highlights though:
Bin 36: If you live in Chicago, like wine (or at least pretend to), and haven’t been to this place, go now. Audrey and I went there last year with Gretchen, and the two of us adored it. It seemed like a great idea for our first dinner back, and it worked out perfectly. We did a couple wine flights (this idea where you get four half glasses of four different wines to try), a cheese flight (same idea, only switch wine with cheese), and a large dinner. We got sufficiently drunk, enjoyed all of our food (he got steak, and the little vegetarian here got this fucking awesome squash, anise, and lavender goat cheese ravioli dish), and went home and cuddled. You know what I mean by cuddled.
MK: Another great idea of mine. SOVA recommended NINE, but they had no food for my annoying eating habits, so I decided on here. Oh. My. God. Somedays, I just love me. Good wine selection (notice a trend?), and my food was slightly above average, but the boy was falling all over himself (and me… maybe it was the wine bottles?) because he was such a fan. He got this dessert, ‘The Peanut Gallery’… I thought he was going to start raping it, that’s how psyched he was about it. After dinner activities were similar.
Also, as a sidenote, Pats won! Now, yes, I love that darling Peyton Manning. He is a fucking gifted QB, can throw a ’skin like it’s nobody’s business, but come on. I’m a Mass girl. Yeah, I was raised in Michigan (and am a Tigers fan as a result… I may have cried when I found out about Zumaya’s shoulder surgery. I hate San Diego even more now.) , but my heart will always be in Massachusetts and with the Patriots (because that’s what my birth certificate says. They declare it for you at birth. It also says I can never be a Yankees fan. Ever.). So, Tom Brady, whenever you’re sick of Gisele, I will be ready to become your next child’s mother. I may plan on naming him Thomas Peyton though, just for safety’s sake.
So, yesterday night around eight pm, I found myself once again on the path I was on four days earlier, only this time I was quite alone. People can say what they want about long distance relationships, and I know no one ever says they’re easy or fun, but my god, nobody ever told me they would ever be this hard. BF and I were talking a lot about the “future”… living together in Chi during the summer (or maybe Evanston, since I work out there), marriage (WAYYYY down in the future), kids (imagine that marriage future time, and add a couple more years)… and we just decided that though our relationship is great, and we love each other more than we could ever think possible, I still really fucking hate Denver.
Repeat: I fucking hate Denver.
Today, I was back to my regularly scheduled programming. It blew, as usual, but I still had this thought floating around in the back of my mind during my classes: “Yesterday I got laid, and I bet you didn’t. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.”
I’m so going to hell.
