vodka vodka nights.

Every week I say maybe we’ll lay low and just catch up on the pile of netflix that have been sitting unopened for two months. It always sounds like a good plan, but better plans always come along. We did stay in Friday as planned. still haven’t touched those red envelopes and at this rate whatever is inside them will be on cable and edited for tv by the time we open them, but I had three weeks of real housewives of orange county to catch up on and that was a priority. So, Saturday was the “on-night”. And it was on. Dinner with the neighbors at a place we’ve never been and I love trying new restaurants as long as there is something I can order. Friends chose tapas a few weekends ago and I ate pretty much a bowl of lettuce. They’re now learning that if they go out with us, menu must contain a burger or chicken fingers or the very least mashed potatoes. But, this place was made for my tastebuds. Many a movie has been filmed there, including the dark knight. grissom from csi frequents there too, but to my disappointment he must not have had a ribs craving this weekend. Cute little kitchen-esque place with an hour and a half wait. At the bar where i think we convinced our friends to get a dog. yay.

So, it was actually warm, if you consider 35 degrees warm, which us chicagoans do in the middle of February, so we stopped for more vodka and a few rounds of wii bowling at our apt. Hubs was exhausted and ready for bed..BUT this nutjob chick thought it was a great idea to go with other neighbor to boystown for more drinks. Boystown is fabulous. It’s a gorgeous area in the city where all the gay bars are. I had never been out at night in boystown so this was another first for me. Quick change (back) into going out clothes, a flip of the hair and a roadie concealed brilliantly inside my diet coke can, off I went on the el to boystown. My friend wanted me to get the best experience possible so we hit three of the hottest gay bars. Oh and they were hot. I just hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much when I fell coming out of the bathroom. I didn’t see the small marble stair that I swear wasn’t there when I went in, but somehow managed to find a way to trip me on the way out. Bastard. Oh this bar played def leppard so it was a perfect night and the fall was soon forgotten. I also met a guy who could talk gucci with me over vodka. seriously, what more could I ask for. Wonder why the night seemed to pass so fast. But it wasn’t until the last bar where there were strobe lights pulsating into my temples, that all the effens caught up to me. I remember saying bye to my friend, falling into a cab, probably Britney style, so thank god I was in boystown where it probably didn’t matter, and doing the much appreciated call to hubby at 3:30 to tell him I was in said cab and en route back home. I also hope the cabbie appreciated the $20 I mistakenly gave him for a $10. I have a bad habit of doing this when inebriated and it sucks since most of my cab rides are $8 and under. Note to self. Stop.

Sunday. I love my couch. I love ordering in greasy food. I love that my poodle parade didn’t care if they missed another warm winter day in the park because their parents decided living like college freshmen all day in pajamas is perfectly ok. Oh and it was. Perfectly ok.

i can't keep up with this lifestyle. well, not today anyway...

So I’m more of the spontaneous person. I hate, absolutely hate, making plans in advance because at the time they always sound like a good idea..until its time to follow up with the plans. If we know we have an event, party, dinner, whatever on a Friday night, we try to be good Thursday and not go out so we’re not tired or whatever when Friday night afterwork rolls around. My problem is…I’m spontaneous. I’m much better if someone says, hey wanna do this or that later than I am with the two week advance planning thing. But in the same breath, i always say "we can sleep when we're dead." yea, not comforting me today.
We made plans (2 months ago) with friends to go to the house of blues tonight for the pink floyd laserlight show. Not my first choice but I figured after work we’ll get some dinner, have some drinks and it’ll be fun. welllll..last night was a work dinner/drinks thing from 5:30 to 8:30. I told my husband I was gonna stay there til 8:30 then come home so I wouldn’t be tired for Friday night’s laser show thing. Open bar. Free. Open bar. Yea, 8:30 came…and went. And somehow and on someone’s expense account we went across the street to chili’s and ordered (a lot) more drinks. It was midnight when I grabbed a cab and about 12:06 when I got home. That’s a whole nother’ post. Poor hubs was not feeling well and I walked in feeling great. Let’s just say he wasn’t a fan of the lights being turned on and hearing me tell chloe all about my night.
So, I was still up and at em’ for work this morning. I’ve been here all day thinking about how in a few hours my soft comfy couch will be the best reward ever…yea not happening because we made these plans to go out tonight for more dinner and more drinks and a 2 hr lightshow to the music that basically puts me to sleep in the first place. And to make it even better, the parents are flying in from nj tonight and want to see us after the show which means a trip to my sisters house, granted she’s two blocks away but still. I have a one night on, one night off thing. I don’t get hung over, I get tired. Like that on my couch with comfy blanket, delivery and tv tired. I can’t do two nights in a row anymore which is why i need a freakin miracle today.

dear old creepy man,

Ok, so for the past 2 weeks you have been annoying the shit out of me on every smoke break. There are 34 floors in our building and granted all smokers here to seem to be on the same smoke cycle…10am, 1pm and the much loved 3:00 break, but why are you always out there when I am? I’ve been smoking with the same people for two years now and you must be new around here or you decided to start smoking at your young old age of 82. There are two areas on two different sides of our building. There is more than enough space for everyone to enjoy a cig comfortably and freely. You, my wrinkly creep, are overstepping the personal space boundary. Why do you feel the need to stand directly in front of me every time I’m out there. And it’s not just that you face me, its that’s you’re an arms length away. Why? You don’t talk, you stare. Then you turn around, stare at the street and spin your bald big head towards me again. Yesterday, I actually moved away from you because you were creeping me out when all I wanted was that cig I deserved after creating an excel sheet that nearly killed me.

This morning, you stood next to me and my friend while we ignored you. You magically pull out a piece of paper (thank god that’s all you pulled out) so you can ask us where the trash can is? Dude, you don’t see one in this area, right? You interrupted our conversation to ask where you can throw out paper from your pocket? We pointed you over to the other side of the bldg where there actually is one…and we made a smooth break for it back inside.

BUT, the came the 3:00 break, coworker and I are ready to go enjoy a breath of fresh air when we saw you stalking (thank god our lobby is complete glass) around the side we always go to and quick thinking made us veer to the left so we could use the other side, away from you, which sucked because its windier on that side. Coming around the west side, I see that tan trenchcoat making our way. By the way, where’s the cane we usually see you with? You seemed fine without it today seeing as how you managed to make it from one side of the building to the other in the time it took us to get about three puffs in. You were there, staring the whole time, you psycho-geriatric loser. Cig done and coworker had to run to 7-11 so I waited a few seconds. I thought I gave you long enough of a head start, but you were moving pretty slow and I booked past you. Elevator opened and I held it since I could hear footsteps behind me. Like I said, 34 floors, theres always people running to grab the elevator. I didn’t know it was gonna be you. It was you. Thanks for the “thank you” cranky old rag. Now, I knew this was gonna be a rough ride up 22 floors and I was pretending to study the elevator tv pretty hard so I wouldn’t have to have any contact or communication with you. Yea, breaking news on the governors impeachment trial is nothing new, especially since I saw them all in the elevator on the way down, but I studied them like there was a quiz at the end. You dirty decrepid bastard! You were staring at me the entire time. The elevator is all mirror, asshole. I can see you staring. I swear 22 couldn’t have lit up fast enough and when it did my boots left burn holes in the elevator from running so fast.

creepy old bag of bones.

cheers...

This saturday is the day. Thursday and Friday are the parties. The parties get better and bigger too every year. more friends want to come out dinner and get drunk with us. i love it. thats what its all about.

now,32 is knocking on the door and I realize finally that age is just a number. 30 scared me for so many reasons..I was afraid I wasn’t who I was supposed to be, that I wasn’t my mom or the women at work who balance kids with food shopping, a mortgage and afterschool games. But at 32, I am proud of me, even when i'm toasted on a wednesday...still proud. I give those women credit because I couldn’t have their lives, I don’t want to either. I see all my old high school and college friends on facebook and they're on kid two or three already with the nice house and grown up lives. they always comment my status back with "have one for me, I don't get to go out much anymore". i couldnt imagine. and at least i know that. (almost) 32 or not, this i know is not in my cards.

well, I love where I am in life and love that i know what i want. I have a husband who shares the same carefree love of life as I do, who also thinks vodkas and guitar hero on tuesdays are perfectly acceptable, and who appreciates the good things in life like a new pair of Sevens or an 8 hour uninterrrupted Cold Case marathon on TBS. I also have my chloe who is, as you've heard before, the love of my life.

If it stays the way it has been for 31, I’m very lucky. I've gotten to live it up this past year. I have my hubby, my family, my chloe, my emma cat, my friends, an apartment with a killer view, a job that I enjoy, and a city I freakin love everyday that I wake up.

So, i'm hoping that when I look back at this post a year from now, I can smile and say, yea 32 was all those things and more. A birthday should celebrate who we have and what we have at that point in our lives, not a depressing day to be mad that another year has passed. I seriously thank my lucky stars that I got to see and experience another year and that I still have who and what I have this year, and that is reason to celebrate. So, pass the vodka, please.

thursday in the city..

Its -5 here today

I just put the cutest pink boots on hold for chloe…we’re gonna go get them after work. we finally destroyed the blue ones which didn't match any of her jackets.

We’ve been “fostering” chloe's friend lily for the past 3 months…I just texted the owner a few minutes ago to ask her what the plan is. everyone seems to think we’re gonna get to keep her. im scared to find out because we fell in love with her.

We ordered an elliptical and I'm praying it gets delivered AFTER the weekend. I need one more binge before boot camp and i don't plan on changing any plans this weekend...

I know I’m gonna cry when grissom says goodbye tonight.

#1 wife award presented to me, by me...

I would like to present this award to myself (oh, couldn’t find a #1 wife award, so i figured the tiara added a nice touch) because I just purchased two presale tickets to the highly awaited 2009 Dead tour and I haven’t told my hubby yet. Knowing his love for the dead and the fact that the guy has more dead itunes than jerry probably would if he was alive, I decided to get hubs some tix for the night after our anniversary in May. I’m not gonna lie, i’ve seen the new kids on the block twice this year (after waiting painfully for 18 yrs) and I have thought about getting tix for Britney’s new tour…but even this city girl with her poufy white poodle LOVVVVES a dead show…

its on, bitch...

So I just have to share my incident from yesterday. Chicago is a dog friendly city. Everyone here shops with their dogs, myself included. Our favorite is anthropologie which also happens to be a short 2 blocks from my apartment. Chloe and I go there several times a week just for our after work walk. I browse, try stuff on for fun and she collects treats and kisses from the people who work there.
So, yesterday her and I bundled up and got to anthro at 11am so we could get all the good sales as soon as the store opened. Chloe is an awesome shopping buddy. she sits nice when I’m going through clothes and follows along when I beeline from one side of the store to the other. She basically waits for someone to come up and pet her. So, i'm shopping the skirts while miss chloe is laying on the floor waiting patiently in the pink wrap sweater I swear she would try to convince me itches her if she could talk, when Bitch comes darting at me. Lets preface that Bitch had on 10 inch heels at 11am on a Sunday in the middle of a blizzard in Chicago, huge sunglasses she was wearing inside the store I have no idea why, and a floor length fur coat. I feel very strongly about fur coats and pretty much hold a high level of disdain for anyone seen wearing one. Not to mention the people in the city who do wear them are mostly large old snobby women who think just because they have on a fur coat, they are rich and important and deserve a seat on the bus just because they look like a fat bear. Seriously, just get a north face like the rest of us. Anyway, back to the story, furry Bitch darts over to me and yells “Jesus CHRIST, why is there a DOG in a RETAIL store?”
Me: Excuse me?
Bitch: I am telling the manager. This is unacceptable.
Me: Go ahead. They allow dogs here. (I say as I continue browsing the skirt rack and chloe continues to try and eat the fringe off the neck of her sweater)

Bitch runs to the counter and starts yelling for a manager. The manager tried to tell her they are a dog friendly store. She looks over at me, (who still happens to be skimming the sale rack near the counter so I can hear the ordeal go down) and says to me:
Bitch: There should NOT be a dog in a store.
Me: AND you should not be wearing a fur coat! (Pause for a second or two). Yea, you heard me.

Bitch left the store in a pissed off huff. I planned ahead though and so me and my chloe went over to browse the rack by the door….just so she could hear me say to chloe on her way out “Want to go to blommingdales after here Chloe?” hahaha…