Bullets

• Todays theme was grey (or is it spelled gray...?). The weather was grey. My mood was grey. I'm wearing a grey hoodie.
• Tonight I burned a cd. The last time I made a mix cd was in approxiametley 2004. Lisa and I made up dances to the bouncing beats of Hollywood Holt. There was the giraffe, the sloth, the elephant, and my fav, the hip hummingbird ( lots of arm flaps).
• Rosie asked me today ( jokingly) if I wanted to take a week off of work because she's so concerned with the economy that she's not sure she can pay me....I was like "umm...."
• I need rainboots. I want to get a pair at Marc Jacobs but there's a certain employee who works there that I really don't want to run into. Therefore, my feet will be getting wet tommorow. This is not an entirely WHOMP, WHOMP blog entry, I swear!
• Went to the Forever 21 on Michigan Avenue this weekend. As i walked in, I noticed it smelled worse than usual. I bee-line to the accessory section. The stench grows stronger. I realize that someone has actually vomitted. On a mirror. And the throw up is just laying there in a pile. As easily accessible as a pair of faux gold earrings. I run out the door without looking back.
• OH! So last night this guy was like " I have something to tell you that you should know. And it's probably going to offend you and piss you off".

Naturally, I start hypervenitaliting, expecting the worst. I'm expecting compromising pics of me online, etc, etc.
He says " You give off very strong booty call vibes."
I say "....Umm...". I mean, how does one react to that? I don't want to be a booty call! I
think I'm better than that. Smarter than that at least. I think...

• New diet. No carbs after 5 pm. So far I've lost approx 1 lb. And I don't have a scale. So that's pure speculation.
  
• New pick up line : " Do you have wi-fi? Can I come over and share yours?"

Hmm....

EVE VS Everyone's favorite tranny, Jack Davey....Who wins this round??












Team Eve.

Fashion Post 2

My Bat Mitzvah Theme (circa 1998) was "Passion for Fashion". The T-shirts were a play upon the infamous CK one logo that was super popular at the time, they said "SK one". Cuh-ute, right? I wish I still had one now....

Anyways, here are some other fashion's that I'm crushing on right now.

Marni SP '09. These are for those artsy, bohemian mama's who look so chic and put together. Effortless. Why is it that looking effortless is SO hard to pull off? Like Mary Kate Olsen does effortless so well. Anyways I really like these combo's, very eccentric. Very intimidating.



BTW, belts worn over outwear=Definite Do.

Wait-I'm a fashion major?

Why have I never made a fashion post? Like, this is supposed to be my passion....or something. Oh god, my total and complete apathy towards everything needs to go away!
Anyways, looking at pics from Milan fashion week (because I'm secretly hoping to see Matt picking his nose in the background). Here are my favorites.

Bottega Veneta. They are on fire right now. Tomas Maier is proving that you can make clothing that is cutting edge and innovative while still inciting lust and being completely wearable. Leather tops tucked into leather "paper bag" sillhouette skirts? Yes please. It's all about excessive use of leather. I feel that if people focus all their energy and anger into being anti-leather it will take away from the stress of the failing economy.

Bottega is reinforcing my intuitive prophecy that we will be seeing a lot of oversized blazers paired with pencil skirts come Spring '09. I think I'm feeling it.

oldiezzz

Abbey showed me this IM that I sent her my freshman year.


Suejanek (12:18:41 PM): i dreamnt that i went to ur house and helped ur mom do your laundry
Suejanek (12:18:45 PM): then i folded it all
Suejanek (12:18:56 PM): and then your mom took me for a tour of your snake collection

---

List of current concerns:

• My mind. I have been forgetting really important things lately. I find it hard to remember my new zip code. Last week I forgot my atm pin. I ended up typing in the wrong one so many times that I was locked out of my bank account. This is not good. I seriously could not remember it. Like, no amount of racking my brains helped. What is this due to? The fact that I use zero brain power every day? I think staring at my computer screen has like charred my brain. This must be it. It could also be that in High School gym class I was hit in the head by every single ball that one could be hit with. Soccer ball, football, volleyball, dodgeball ball, tennis ball and my personal favorite, hockey puck.
  
• The Economy. Not that I have an abundance of money to begin with, but I feel poorer than ever. And shopping.is.my.life. Also, because I live in an apartment I do not have the means to create a victory garden ( like Molly the American Girl had, the one who lived during WWII).
• Wisdom Teeth. These bitches need to come out. I am concerned that they are pushing all the rest of my teeth together. When I close my mouth it doesnt....close. There is too much going on in there. But I really don't want to have them taken out. I'm scurred...

Over The Hill(s)

Just watched this weeks episode of "The Hills". I am disgusted. Here are my thoughts.

• When did Lauren get a scratchy, come hither voice? Is she trying to be sexy? Not working bitch,
• I am totally team Audrina but girlfriend is not the sharpest tool in the shed.
  
• Thankfully Lo didn't make too much of an appearance in this episode. I'm usually fuming after she utters a single word. She is seriously one of the worst people in the world. Hitler and Lo Bosworth are tied.
• Ummm....Stephanie. Is. So. Crazy. I love at the end of the episode where she puts together this whole Goth/Drug Addict look ( braids slicked back with hair-gel, heavy black eyeliner, googly eyes that wont focus). I have to admit though, I can see her being really fun to go out with. She'd be the one who would flirt shamelessly with the bartender/doorman/bathroom attendant to get special favors.
• Spencer is amazing. He is a demon. He looks like a possessed hermit crab.
  
• Omg Lauren get over the fact the you and Heidi are no longer friends. Heidi is always lamenting about how she has never had a best friend like Lauren. What's so great about her? Seriously, how close could you guys have been? Both of you are completely out of touch with your emotions and plastic-y.
  

10

Worst 10 Bands/Musicians of all time. I think Republicans are the only people who like them:

1. Nickleback
2. Creed
3. Puddle of Mudd
4. Hootie and the Blowfish
5. DMB
6. Coldplay
7. K.T. Tunstall
8. The Fray
9. O.A.R
10. Keane/ U2/ Michael Buble
    

Changes-Tupac

So fall is here.
Yuckville.
I am sooooooo anti.
It's so odd though, this is the first year since I was like 6 that I am not going back to school come September. What a beautiful thing.
Oh summer, how I shall miss you.
I feel I took you for granted.
Never thanked you for your perfect nights where I could leave the house wearing only the skimpiest of dresses.
I went to the beach only once. What a waste.
I'll miss your hot sun that tanned me to a golden shade of brown ( p.s. did you know that the deeper the tan, the skinnier you look? Trust me.).
And my poor hair. It looks so much prettier with kisses from the sun.
And hands! You are so much healthier in the summer! Not dried and cracked from the extreme cold.
Oh! And immune system! You are so much stronger in the summer!
Flip flops; is there anything more comfortable than you? You show off my neon purple pedicure and never cut blisters into my heels. You will have to be retired to the depths of my closet. I'll think of you often.
Waaaah...
Fall.
I hate you.
It's not personal, it just means that Winter is on it's way.
Winter.
Bitch!
I don't want to wear long pants that cut into my waist and make me feel fat!
Although I love boots, I don't have the energy (or funds) right now to search for that perfect pair.
Long sleeve shirts : I'm sorry, you're just not as cute as your tank top counterparts.
Heating bill: why must you be such a pain? Why must I crank you up to 90 degrees just to unfreeze?
Coat. You are fucking annoying. When I go out to the clerrrb, where do I put you? I have to pay someone to babysit you in the coatroom. Such a waste!
I suppose I could focus on the good thing's that the change of season brings...
wait...I'm drawing a blank...

Well, there is Pumpkin Pie.

Zoo

When Janie and I were growing up at our house on Ardmore we owned a menagerie of animals. Here are their stories.

Chapter 1: Duke
We rescued Duke from the animal shelter one day before he was to be put to sleep. For this he was eternally grateful and was the best dog ever. He was a rag-a-muffin of a creature, a mutt that appeared to be one part terrier, one part German Shepard, one part other. He had wiry,salt and pepper hair. He was the kindest, most loving creature you have ever met. Janie and i regarded him as a father figure. When I was in the second grade playing at the playground at recess a small crowd of children formed by the track. I hurried over to see what the commotion was. It was Duke! He had run away from home and was running laps on the track! He had a huge smile on his face. He probably wanted to get some exercise. I miss him the most.

Chapter 2: Tiki
We bought Tiki because cockatiel's were supposed to be the kindest, most loving type of bird. The pet shop owner assured us that he would sing lovely tunes from morning to night and that this breed of bird memorized words and that we could train him to say " I love you" when we walked into the room. Also, because his wings were clipped, we could allow him to fly around the house and bring his loveliness to us no matter where we were. His breed was also known for nuzzling onto their owners shoulders and taking naps.
No.
Tiki was defective. Tiki hated us. He would leer at us from his cage and if we got close he would hiss. He was also a biter, and wouldn't be satisfied until he pecked hard enough at our fingers to produce blood. One day I was changing his cage in the backyard and Tiki flew away. Apparently his wings had grown back. He flew to a tall tree and glared at me for a couple of minutes. Hissed one last time, and flew into the unknown.

Chapter 3: Harry
Harry, the hairless rat was the size of a mango. He (obviously) was bald except for long whiskers that sprouted from the side of his nose. He looked like an old man, all that was missing was a wee pair of spectacles. Harry moved from my Mom's house to my Dad's house after my mom could stand the looks of him no more. At my Dad's house, he flourished from a diet of gourmet french cheeses and organic grapes. Harry was an intellectual. When he felt like it he would unlatch his cage, crawl out and nibble on my father's rare book collection. Aww.
Chapter 4: Pierre
Petey ( his American nickname) came into our hands because my mothers secretary was babysitting a Maltese who committed suicide by jumping into a swimming pool. She bought Pierre to compensate for the dead dog, but the owners rejected him. When we first met Petey he was a docile little cotton ball of a creature who was too timid to bark. Janie fell in love right away. Fast forward to the next day. Pierre's true character emerges. He hisses at us. He pee's everywhere but outside. He. wont. stop. barking. He refuses to listen to any sense of reason. My mom hates him. Detests him. Eventually we keep him tied up in the kitchen, which seems to be the only place he wont pee. We tethered him up to a door knob. One day when he went berserk barking my mom picked him up by his leash which was attached to his collar and accidentally almost hung him. Accidentally...He's still alive now, don't worry.

Chapter 4: The Hamsties!
Our hamster collection started with Hammy. Hammy was a rotund little man, with velvety fur the color of custard. Then came Hammy's wife, Gingurrr. They spawned many a little hamstie...except Gingurrr ate a few babies and a couple of them opted to commit suicide by drowning themselves in their water bowl. These hamsters interbred with each other and had more babies. At one point we had approx 20 hamsters. They were soooo cute!!!! When they slept, they would all cluster together and create one big ball of hamster. Of course, 30% of them ran away. After we moved out of our house on Ardmore, we received a disgruntled call from the current owner, saying that when they knocked down a wall they found an infestation of mutant hamster/mice/rats. I picture them knocking down a wall and finding themselves staring at an army of mutant rodents, all of them a green color ( like the jokers hair in The Dark Knight), glaring at the new owners for disrupting their peaceful world.

All we do is juke...

Lisa discovered a little gem who goes by the name Alex (haaaayyy Alex). Alex turned 17 like 2 days ago, but I swear he acts like he is at least 22. So mature.
Lisa met Alex at her job (she moonlights as a manager to rapping legend Mic Terror). Alex is a whiz kid and at his tender age manages to put together major events (such as Cape Summer Blowout). So last night we went out and Alex came with. He is a dancing machine. He reminds me of a young Tina Turner. He jukes like there is no tommorow. And because he is an avid reader of this blog ( one of the 3 people who actually reads it) he gets an entry devoted to him. I really enjoy being with him, he reminds me of the good times I had in High School with my friend Alon. Seriously though, he is amazing. Love ya!

On a sad note, Janie was kicked out of the club last night. The bouncer literally picked her up by her shirt collar and tossed her to the curb. It was such a Full House moment though. She was talking to this guy she's totally in love with when the bouncer taps her on the shoulder, asking for her ID. See, she had a vodka cranberry in her hand which she was not so discreetly sipping on. C'mon Janie! Other than that, the night wasn't so eventful. Brief appearances by A-trak, Gant Man, Mic T, the usual. Mic performed and had an interesting choice for a hype man. I'm pretty sure his hype man was UnderPass Joe, the homeless creature who lives beneath the Underpass in Wicker Park. Seriously, there is a shortage of hype men. I am thinking of becoming a hypegurrrl.
Awww Janie is leaving so soon! Next Monday! We're going to have a going away party for her! My idea is to have a junk food party. A bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos, Munchos, Bugles, Funions, french onion dip and of course, all this is followed by a sheet cake customized with a pic of Janie. Aww. Maybe the one of her juking Mikey Rocks?

Also-I'm feeling a little insecure because Matt has made a remark lately that I have changed and that my blog is just like everyone elses. I'm not offended, because I see what he's saying. I admit, I posted a pic of a Nike sneaker a while back, but lets be real here, it was made of a hamburger. That is SOOOO me. Things that are also me : hamsters. Which brings me to my next point. I want to get a hamster. I will get a hamster. OOooooooo I love Hamsters SO much. I want one that I can put on my shoulder and walk around the house with. A companion I can count on. I can't wait.

Whomp, Whomp....

I'm bored.
With. Everything.
My dad once said to me that he feared that i was "waiting for life to happen" instead of living, and he's right. I am just sitting around waiting.
Believe me though, I am the strongest proponent of taking life by the reigns and creating the life that you want to happen by any means. But of course, this is easier said than done.
I'm just really not sure what I want to do with my life. I've always had this clear vision of myself somewhere in the fashion realm. My goal is to open my own store one day. But then I will be at work, straightening racks of dresses and mopping the floors and I'm thinking to myself "fuck this." This is not what I want. Or I will have to deal with a crazy customer who want's me to whittle down the price of a shirt for her because it's dry clean only and I will think to myself "this is not the life i want". Or rather," I can't live this way."
I think all this apathy and boredom is just a small symbol of a deeper unhappiness? A dis-ease and unrest within myself that I just don't know how to cure.
Ugh, I don't knowwwwwwwwww.
I'm just like so bored.
I am living my life week to week, the only excitement I can count on is a new issue of US weekly. I have to say that despite all off this boredom and monotony I am SO grateful that I no longer have to go to school. I still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, freaking out that I have homework due or a final to study for. This is the first fall since I was a wee little tyke that I haven't had to start a new year of school! hurray!
But anyways. I just want something to happen for me. Something great to fall into my lap. Let's see how that goes....

ehh

Photo shoot in the upcoming issue of Harper's Bazarr ( btw this is the weirdest name for a magaine, if you really think about. Say it 5 times, it loses all meaning). Love this. I love all things Royal Tennenbuams. What a brillz concept.

Shouldn't all shoes be made from Hamburgers? This is particularly brilliant. All these artists are doing their own personal interpretation on iconic Nike Sneakers. This one is a version of an Air Force One. Sorry, I'm having trouble typing today ( not that it's obvious, due to spell check...) because I'm at work at Michael Buble's terrible, whiny music is playing in the background. Sick.
Lastly, the creepy postman who I've mentioned before just told me that I have the "softest lookin' ass" that he's ever seen. I am so grossed out. He assured me this was a good thing. I like grabbed my phone as he said this and dialed 9-1-1. Ick.

O m to the GGggggggggg

Weekend was insane.

Ok. It started out like this.
Went to this bar Darkroom. Mic T performs ( I swear this is not a blog just dedicated to him, even though in my heart, it kinda is). GLC is there. GLC=a big, real life teddy bear. He is adorb. He comes right up to Lisa, Janie and I and squishes us all together and picks us up and gives us the most loving hug I have ever received. It was a beautiful moment.
Then Mic T. hollers from the stage " WILL THE KORN FAMILY PLEAZZE COME CLOSER". !!!!

Ok so the next night Lisa and I went to the Hard Rock Lolla after party. There we are, in the cab, re-enacting a scene from the bone collector. The cab driver has kidnapped us. I say in my sweetest voice, dripping with honey " sir, you're taking us to the Hard Rock hotel, not the Hard Rock cafe, right?".
Silence.
He says " ACTUALLY I AM. YES. I AM TAKING YOU THROUGH THE NORTH HEMPISHPERICAL UNIT SECTOR ROUTE VERSUS THE SOUTHERN PLANK blah blah blah blah blah ". He basically gave me the scientific theory for the route he was taking us. I bit my lips to keep from laughing, for fear that If I did, he would turn around and stab me and then use my body for fuel. Lisa laughed.

Ok so we get to the Hard Rock. Amazing. Free drinks all night. Love Vodka and Pomegranate and a drink called "The Diddy" (Lemonade and Vodka). However, drinking heavily may not be a good idea for Lisa. Lets just say her boss might have been there and she may or may not have made out with him. ANNNNNNNNNYWHOOOOOOoooooooooo....
SO Spank Rock and Amanda Blank perform which was lots of fun. Then MARK RONSON gets on and starts spinning. He was accompanied by his seeester Samantha Ronson and her girlfriend LINDSAY LOHAN. Woooooooo. She was exactrly how she looks in pictures. Leather leggings, baggy band t-shirt, flats, hair astrew. Mark Ronson played all the hits of yesteryear ("You Can't Hurry Love", "Build me up, Buttercup") and then "88" by the Cool Kids (!!!!!!!!!). That was a def. highlight.
Lowlight : Mark Ronson's adorable, chic, model girlfriend being there. Being alive at all for that matter....kidding....(?).



So then off to Underground where we danced with the likes of Fonzworth Bentley ( Fonzi!!), Don C. ( "we got that right one, that right one"), Kenna, Dj Mom Jeans, and oh yeah PATRICK SWAYZE!!! He was having a great time.
Then the shoes I was wearing ( wooden heels) literally starting attacking my feet. Pain, pain, pain.

Ok! So then on Sunday it was LOLLAPALOOZA! WOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! It was amazing. Once in a lifetime experience, fo sho. Started the day off with a performance from my favorite bitch, Kid Sister. Here's the thing with her. She is super nice and down to earth but like, get over it. She's like so approachable and personable. Therefore I hate her. Like she is so genuine. What a fucking bitch. My feelings for her are very up and down. Anyways, yeah her performance was great.
Then next up was Chromeo. I proposed to Dave from Chromzzz but he didn't hear me. He was a beauty in his swanky three piece suit. After Chromeo we had a little down time. This is what we did.
1. Sweat
2. Eat Acai Sorbet out an empty bag of chips.
3. Shower in mist at the misting stations.
4. Trend spot.
Speaking of trends, If i never see another pair of Shutter Shades again, I will be happy. There were the Lindsay Lohan/ Urban Outfitter chicks with high waisted shorts, gladiator sandals, fedoras, wayfarers and baggy t-shirts. There were the American Apparel types with the requisite 50/50 blend tanks and leggings. Lots of guys wearing fluorescent, upturned hats, backpacks, stupid bandanas around their necks, and multi-colored shorts. This was espeically apparent at the Franki Chan show.
Ok, I digress. Next up we saw Gnarls Barkley. After Gnarls Barkley was Kanye.
KANYE. KANYE. KANYE.
I have never seen anything like this. You realize how powerful something is when you know EVERY single word to EVERY song by heart. His performance was a spiritual experience. There you are, in this huge filled, packed with the bodies of over 100,000 people, all singing and dancing and screaming together.
Kanye was outrageous. Incredible. Lisa and I cried. We were sticky, and hungry and thirsty and tired and sweaty. But his performance literally pulled us out of our bodies. Words cannot even express how this performance was.
After his show, the entire festival filtered out onto Michigan Avenue where everyone was still buzzing from the shows. I have never seen so many people in one place in my entire life.
And yes, even though I think people are gross, and dirty, and stupid, it was amazing.

Beauties

Fat

My boss, Rosie, took me out to dinner last night for Employee Appreciation. I am the only Employee she has. It was cute though.
Back to the story. So we have a Margarita-a-piece ( good, but nowhere near as amazing as the Margarita's at Adobo) and a bottle of white wine. When alcohol is involved, inhibitions go out the window. This is especially true with food inhibitions. Thing's I don't allow myself to eat normally are consumed in large portions, at rapid speed. Who wants to eat a salad ( dressing on the side, light on cheese) when they are inebriated? Not I.
I crave all things greasy and friend and yellow in color. Example. We shared a plate of waffle fries, drenched in cheddar cheese with a delicate sprinkling of caramelized onions, sour cream, scallions and pulled pork. Heavenly. The sweetness of the onions beautifully complimented the salty cheese and pork, all pulled together by the king of all delicious meals, fried potatoes.
So here I am today, feeling totally gluttonous. I am looking at the door frame and hoping that my immense hips and thighs can fit through it. Every time I inhale, I can feel the layers and mountains of fat ripple. I dare not wave to anyone for fear that my flapping arms will create a tornado-like breeze.
Ugh. I hate myself. I've also noted that in latest facebook pictures I appear very round. Round face, round body, round, round, round. Whereas I want to be more square and angular. It's gotten to the point when I look at paintings done my the Old Masters, I compare myself to the models. Example : "Do I weigh more than the Mona Lisa?" or I will envy the tiny, wasp waists of the women in Seurat's "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte".
Ughhh. This is not good.

Ooo just saw Skyler ride by on his moped. Heeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy.

Love in tha club?

No.
Remind me not to let Janie out of the house. Even though she doesn't really leave it in the first place...but anyways. Janie borrowed Jen's fake ID Saturday night so we could partake in the festivities at Lava Lounge.
Bad idea.
She wore a dress (mine) that barely covered her groin. The entire night I had to remind her to keep her legs closed.
Also, she drank.
Bad idea.
So there we are in this dark cave of a club when Janie simply disappears. I'm in total big sister mode and immediately track her down.
I find her sitting down on a couch, flanked by Rastafarian's on each side. Their names are of metal ores ( i.e. platinum, silver, gold, copper). They are bewitched by some story she is spinning. Her groin is showing. Lisa becomes concerned that she has rubbed off on Janie, cuz we all know what Lisa is like when she drinks. Anyways.
After this incident, Lisa and I drag her back to the dance floor where she is (temporarily) safe from unplanned pregnancies.
So then Mic Terror arrives (YAY!).
I introduce him to Janie who totally wigs out. I mean lets face it, he is the biggest celebrity of all time.
Soon Janie's thirst for trouble beckons her. Once again, Janie is again missing in action.
I find her snuggled up to some random Murder Clubber ( they're trouble ladies, stay awayyyyyy). Sweet nothings are being whispered. No good can come of this. Mic Terror sees whats going down. He doesn't wholly disapprove however. A small wrinkle of a smile appears on his face.
"How old is yo sisturr?" he inquires.
"19" I respond ( she actually 20, but i forget these things easily).
"Oh well that's a good age for making babies" he states matter-of-factly ( he knows these things).
To make a long story short, Janie was totally OOC that night, and also a total babe magnet.

Now the question is, with Lollapalooza weekend approaching and our schedule jam packed with after parties, do I allow Janie to come? Will she channel Katy Perry and explore lesbianism (is that a word?)? Will she forgo underwear and pull a Lezlo? Will she find herself "with child"? All of these are interesting options, and for the sake of the entertainment level of this blog, lets hope.
My inspiration is running pretty thin.

Boiiz

Whats that old adage about how guys are like parking spaces? "All the good ones are taken?" Or is it "All the good ones are like...at parking meters and you have to pay to use them?" Whatever. It's so true though. Example: went to Moped store today. Hot guy helped me and Rosie out. Total dreamboat, catch of the century etc. So later on I manage to find him on Myspace ( it's not that creepy! I swear! He told me what Moped gang he rolls with so I simply located the gang on myspace, and voila! there he is). Click on his profile. "In a relationship". Gross. Moving on. Met a guy at the clerb a while ago. Super successful, fashion designer, creative director, jetsetter, hobknobs with Kanye ( Not Gay!! SWEAR!). Lurk him today on Facebook. Engaged! Grossssssssss. There was this semi attractive Guido who used to visit the store every other day just to say hi ( he lives next door). He has stopped coming by. I'm wondering if I scared him off?
The only guy I can count on is the dreadlocked postman whom I see everyday. Is this because he is (federally) obligated to deliver the mail or does he love me? Heres hoping.

Life without cable...

So the roomies and I (Lisa and Janie) have made it over 1.5 months with no cable. This is not as impressive as it sounds however due to the easy access of most shows via tha internetz. Anyways...to pass the time we have spent many an hour staring out of our living room windows onto Division. We are at a crucial corner on Division where the Humboldt park hipsters must pass through when accessing the city. This includes members of our favorite moped gang, murder club. We spot at least one murder clubber each day, all made (in)famous by the club banger "Throw A Kit" courtesy of Hollywood Holt.
Our new game is called "Moped vs Hooptie". We have to determine, without looking, if the dull, mechanical buzz we hear from a block away is coming from a Moped or a really shitty car. Thus far the game has provided endless minutes of entertainment.

Confessions of a shopgurrrl

As someone who toils in a boutique as a living ( I mean, if you could call this living...waaahh) I have observed bizarre behavioral patterns of the average customer.

There is the beastly shopper, the woman who tears through the store with hunger, not examining any garment for more than 4 seconds before making her way to the next rack. Another telltale sign of this type of customer is the sound of hangers screeching as they are dragged from one side of the rack to the other. Basically she is a fucking bitch with no regard to the fact that I just spent 15 minutes spacing each hanger 2 inches apart.

There is the idiot-who- likes- to- waste- time shopper, who tries on everything in the entire store and then after 3 hours of me assuring her that she looks "amazing" and "gorgeous" decides that she doesn't want to buy anything. Really?

Name Dropper shoppers like to brag about purchases from other stores that are waaaay more fabulous than anything in my store. Ex: "Well I would get this but I just bought a shirt from Gucci yesterday that is too similar...".
My response: "Wonderful".

Miserable-anti life shoppers are always a treat. These are the people who consider shopping to be as fun as a jaunt through Auschwitz. Like, why are they even shopping? Just go home and do something that you would consider more enjoyable ( pulling out your own teeth is just one suggestion). These are also closely related to the afformentioned beastly shopper.

Ok, one more thing I have observed. Whenever a customer comes in with a beverage and asks if they can leave the drink on the cashwrap while they look around, they NEVER buy anything. What is up? Anyone have any clue? It must be some deep, psychological insecurity they have. Like, maybe they know they have no intention of buying anything and to absolve themselves of guilt they are extra cautious and respectful to the boutique by not giving themselves the chance to spill...

Love

Wanted: Roomate

So the search is on for the third roommate (needed by Mid August/Sept 1., spread the word). So Lisa and I took a risk and put out an ad on craigslist. I think we secretly did it so that we could get responses and feel popular receiving tons and tons of emails.
So the responses have been overwhelming. They range from scam artists to people who write in Japanese symbols to burly chicks who ride motorcycles to Ricky Martin knockoffs (even though we specified we were looking for female roommates). One girl wrote a response and used it as a therapy session and told me about how her father and brother died in a car accident and how her faith in Catholicism saved her from a life of despair, blah,blah,blah, i deleted it.
Here is what we are looking for in a roommate (no sugar coating):
-Cleanliness (see post below)
-Non Craziness
-Lisa has requested that all potential roommates speak English, for she is hard of hearing and cant decipher words when they are said in an accent
-Not a hoe (more than Lisa or I are...anyways...)
-Not an axe murderer/child molester
-has a car that they want to give us
-has lots of money that they also want to give us
-possibly a celebrity (Olsen twins, wuddup!?)
-not cooler than us. i mean, then again, who is....
-good taste in music. I refuse to hear any nickleback, creed, or matchbox 20 within the walls of my home

Travellin'

Im venturing home for the 4th of July. Traveling for me is a brutal and rigorous process, mainly because of my self imposed OCD and germapohobia.
Phase 1: The trip from my apartment to the airport via the el.
I do not sit on the train or the bus. I refuse. Who KNOWS what creatures have sat in the seats prior to me and what bodily fluids have leaked out of their body. In addition to this, the edges of the seats are lined in crust and bacterium. SO theres the whole procedure of leaning upon the side of the train and preventing any part of said train from touching my body. The CTA is gross, I could go on and on ( people dying, pooping, peeing, eating chicken wings, spitting, vomiting aboard trains and busses) but I choose not to because I might vom thinking about it.
Phase 2: The airport/security process
So theres this whole business with removing ones shoes and stepping on the germ infested ground barefoot. E to the WWW. EWW. Gross. Who KNOWS what fungus and mildew is crumbling from peoples feet. Also, the filthy, horrid plastic trays that one is forced to put their belongings in. I refuse. I was going through security, content with allowing my laptop to pass through the x-rays on the belt with no tray. The security guy forced me to put it in a tray. I reluctantly pick up the tray. A big black hair has made its home in the tray. My computer refuses to bunk with this disgusting strand of hair. I have to search through the trays until I can find a somewhat presentable specimen.
Phase 3: The whole communal thing
The very fact that thousands of people stream through the airport daily and we are all forced to share tables, chairs, toilets, etc is so so nasty. Ewww. I refuse to sit in the chairs that are provided for your wait in the terminal. Have you ever looked at them? So filthy. Crust galore. Also, there is always a stinky, crying baby. Babies are fine (sometimes) but when they cry and carry on in public they deserve to be shaken profusely. Also, do not get me started on the bathrooms.
Phase 4: The actual air travel
People are gross. End of story.

cawl me

So a while back, around Christmas time to be exact, I once again found myself surrounded by friends ( Lisa, Matt, Diana) and relatives (Janie) in a studio apartment in the Gold Coast ( R.I.P). A flurry of snow was falling outside and we lacked the desire to leave the confines of the 3 x 3 box that was Lisa's apartment. Boredom struck. We did what any reasonable person does when they have nothing better to do : Prank Calls.
Let me clarify before I go on any further though. Prank calls are absolutely not immature. There is nothing funnier in this world than witnessing an unsuspecting voice on the other end of the phone when they are faced with bizzarre situations. For example : calling a foreign 7-11 clerk and asking if they have anything to remove blood from fabric, any ducktape, and any large plastic bags, big enough to fit a human body. In highschool my friend Alon would call the parents of people he hated and have them give messages to their sons or daughters. Example: "Yo wuddup Mrs. Irwin....tell Christina that I got her dime bag of shit and that she owes me $40 bucks for this shit. Tell her it's nice and fluffy, not all mids like last time."
Another good one (compliments of Matt) is to call someone (my roomate, freshman year) and tell her that you are calling from the OBGYN and that her pregnancy test results are in , and yes she is in fact pregnant (true story. My roomate accepted the news stoically. Ummm.....).
Prank calls are a guranteed good time all around, granted the person on the other line is fun loving and enjoys talking with psychos. A perfect example of this takes us back to that cold, winter night. There we were, when one of us conceived the brilliant idea to call American Apparel. Because it was around 11 in Chicago we called an American Apparel in Santa Monica, CA instead. I was the one who was deemed fit for making the call. Ok heres how it went:
American Apparel guy: (said in studied nonchalance, sideswept hair and skinny physique are apparent in voice as well) American Apparel Santa Monica.
Me: Uhh hi, yes. yes, hi. Umm. I recieved a shirt from your store for Christmas and I think theres something wrong with it.
Guy: Uhh, whats wrong with the shirt?
Me: It's plain.
Guy: Umm....
Me: Most of my shirts have kittens and balls of yarn on them. I find it highly disturbing that this shirt has no adornments at all
Guy: Well you can bring the shirt into the store....and i can draw pictures on it...
Me: Do you have any shirts with pictures of snowglobes or clusters of holly berries? You see, I am looking for items to update my winter wardrobe...
Guy: Why dont you bring the shirt into the store and we can decide what to do with it?
Me: I cant. I cant leave my kitties at home alone.
Guy: you can bring them with in a basket.
.....anyways....at this point i realize that the guy sounds really hot and that i am slowly falling in love with him. I ask him what his name is and he says some bizzare Hindu sounding thing and the rest of the night is spent searching for him (in vain) on myspace.
I miss him.

Glerrrman