ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

There's a Second for Everything


Lately, a lot of 'seconds' have happened. You know, like weird things that happen once & then you're all 'that'll never happen again' & then it happens again & the first experience seems to have lost its novelty. Well, because it's not all that special anymore.

My first second was on Saturday. A bachelorette party. And the double double cherry was to see a stripper. More specifically, a 'male revue'. It was at Funk, this underground club. No, really, it's under the ground! So Ginny's getting married on this next Saturday so all us chickadees went out for a party. A girl party. And this place was for seeing naked man body & had a $15 unlimited drinks for 3 hours special.

I'd like 17 Jack & Cokes please!

The last (& first) stripper I saw was at Schmale's bachelorette party and he was nasty. Bleck! Totally gross but like was supposed to be all hot. I was not looking forward to this 'male revue' but Ginny's awesome & it's more about her, right? Plus, we all dressed up all slutty & I had a good excuse to wear the hot shirt (wooooo! hot shirt!). Woah, was I wrong about all strippers being gross. Our first stripper guy was a UPS man! Holy shit, he was hot. We were all screaming & hootin' & hollerin' to him while he was pseudo humping girls while they shoved 20s down his wee underpants. And then the dances went on with other dudes in different costumes & Phoenix (that's the hot dude's name....woah) kept eating $1 bills out of my boobs (only $2 but whatever) and he was all a smooth talker & like 'you're sexy....i want your number' so after he asked twice, I gave him my number. But I think he might have been a little fucked up & really, who's gonna call a cat lady?

Bad girl!!!

But then I found out that he bummed a cigarette from Ginny & I felt totally betrayed. What a whore! Who does he think he is? A hot stripper or something?!?!

But then on Sunday the second second happened. Remember that skin issue that I had in the winter? Like how I was dying of shingles & all the doctor did was give me steroids? Yeah. It's back. I know what you're thinking....that Phoenix dude gave you something. But if that were the case, then the hives would be on my boobs but they're not. It's my knees & feet. So I'm back on the steroid cream & have the strongest skin ever (again) & my mom's all 'tron, you need to go on oral steroids this time'. She's probably right because it's worse & looks just like pictures of hives on the interwebs. So that sucks. Because that means that I'm allergic to something but don't know what it is.

Dear god, it's me emertron, please don't let me be allergic to hot strippers.

I probably should have started with this second because it's the least happy but decided to go chronologically because, well, that's just what I decided to do. My gramma's memorial service is on Saturday morning & directly after the lunch I leave to go to a wedding. Last time I left a death-related service & went to a wedding was one month less 3 years ago. Broken Social Scene's 'Pacific Theme' holds a very strong place in my heart due to that day. I'd left the funeral home & drove east on 111th Street, stuck in traffic. It wasn't yet hot enough to justify air conditioning so the car windows were rolled down & there was a wind in the air enough to cool off the heat. The air drifted through the windows as I listened to that song for the first time. Despite the sad tone in my heart, I caught the happiness of new life beginning. The slow-down in the song came & my arm inched its way out of the driver's side window (doing something that my mother frightened me away from by the threat of losing my arm from another car) and it floated, waved around to the beat, controlled by the force of the outside against the force of my car going forward. And then the drums picked up & the horns sang 'bear bear buuurrr buurr doo doo bear' and I started playing the drums on the steering wheel and tears came uncontrollably from my eyes and laughed with glee. I'd just said goodbye to a woman who less than a year before I watched All My Children with, discussing the wardrobe of daytime television, during my breaks from getting customers food & drinks and gave sincerest blessings to friends who'd found each other within less than 3 hours.

I'm lost on how to wrap this up right now. So I guess I'll just leave it at that.

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Sunday, May 20, 2007


The very purpose of our life is happiness, the very motion of our lives is toward happiness.
-His holiness the Dalai Lama

My gramma died on Friday morning. She was almost 96. Last time I saw her, she told me about the dogs that the volunteers brought to the hospital for the patients with a smile on her face. Last time I talked to her, she was crying in pain. Friday morning, not even morphine was helping. She wasn't happy anymore & nothing could change that. Today's one of those days I hope she was right & that there is a heaven.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Suckage


Woah. What happened? I was blogging everyday or like every other day & stuff & then caput. Well, I no longer have the free time to blog at work. For sucks. By the time I come home, I'm generally about ready to collapse. For super sucks. Well, maybe 'collapse' is a little bit extreme but I'm really tired & usually get home about 8 or later, even when I don't have balleting or yogaing.

But the good news is that we're looking for another 'me' (well, kinda...more like someone to be another grant wench). Which is great because I've gotten the chance to put some writing skills to work (please don't judge by this blog) but the bad part is that I've been doing it at home....after 9 hours of intense intensity, after balleting, at home in my sweatpants (fuck you, sweatpants are awesome) & glasses at about 9:30 at night. Totally my choice. I enjoy doing that sort of work, helping to write & edit grants. So no wahwahiworkathome bullshit.

Soon my parents' protestant work ethic so embedded in me can turn a bit less life consuming. Yay!

Wanna hear a crappy story? Ha ha. Too bad.

So we had a lunch interview with a candidate today. See, after an initial interview, the group of administrators take whoever we're grilling to lunch for a second interview. I was running late because some people can't get me their shit on time. It goes with the work. So I hippety hopped over to the Business School, my little linen skirt plastered to my legs while I speed-walked in black kitten heels. Upon arriving at the cafeteria, I looked around, feverishly, to find my crew when I looked outside assuming that they weren't dining in this muggy-make-my-hair-into-Bozo's weather but thought, hell, haven't found them yet & saw them. Them being a lovely Indian girl in fashionable sunglasses, tall, thin, short light brown haired nice looking guy & then a woman from the back who could only describe as smaller with light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

OMG! I can't go to lunch ONE day & Nick & Farrah replaced me!!!! But upon further investigation, picture it, a small girl with her unhealthy salad, pineapple & fat free cholocate milk stalking this table with a scowl, I realized the it wasn't Nick & Farrah.

I found our dopplegang!!!!!!!! We should totally have lunch with them. It'd be like looking in a mirror.

Thankfully I got to the interview just in time to talk with food in my mouth while asking & being asked questions. Yeah, I think I made a good impression. Come work for us!!!

In other not so good news, the 'streetcleaners' are back. Yeah, Chicago's way to make even more money off of its street parking population by putting up orange 'do not park on this side of the street' signs at like 2 a.m. & then charging you $75 for not having moved your car that you didn't even know you needed to move & not sweeping the streets. Sweet.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

RIP: Magic Mart


Candles, cards & ornaments adorned the storefront of the incident. No one knew this would day would come. Many feared it but that remained a passing thought in our minds.

At around 7:00 on Saturday we walked to go get some tacos at the local taco store. None of us felt like driving so Nuevo Leon was out of the picture. Plus, the local place sells beer & at that point, I prayed that would take away the yuck I felt at the time.

Walking up Harper we noticed a woman, quite disturbed, at the corner visiting The Site repeating 'but who's Mart? WHO'S MART?!'. We noticed the lit candles & cards at that point, wondering what had happened. Was there a shoot-up? (mind you that the ex-state senator was mugged in the neighborhood earlier that day on her way back from seeing Wicked, this neighborhood sees its fair share of crimes.......okay, sidenote, who the hell mugs a senator? what kind of a dumbass do you you have to be to try & pull that shit?) Robbery? Flashing?

There was a sign. REVOKED

Apparently, the City of Chicago had revoked its license to operate business at The Magic Mart, the local booze/convenient store. I started to wimper a little with the thought that there was no where else within 3 miles to get Sparks, no where else to go when all of the other 'classy establishments' were closed & the party supplies had just dried up, no where else to get asked for a dollar at the register only to turn around after paying & declare that 'yes, I will give you a dollar if you'll give me those 4 quarters in your hand', the cashier snickering & saying with his eyes 'hey, little girl, make it to your car okay' while the dude who asked for a dollar gave me a high five & exchanged the dollar bill for 4 shiny quarters.

People came from all over (i.e. from between Cottage Grove & the Lake & 51st & 61st) to pay homage to this precious establishment. To pay their respects. To show that goddamnit, we NEED a place to pick up cat food & a 40 on a lazy Saturday without going to the insanely over-priced Co-op.

So here's to you, Magic Mart. You will be sorely missed in the community.

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