2008: Half Empty or Just Half Full of Shit?

Happy July 1, everyone!

Sure, it is Canada Day or something like that,but who cares (Airam)? There are more important things to celebrate - like the year being half over.

If the [Cherry] Clan was back in the Old Country, we'd be celebrating these last 162 Earth rotations of 2008 with a traditional feast of game hen, ginger beer and pole dancing. But we are a long way from the Old Country, I suppose, so instead I'll celebrate the completion of 1H08 by eating Hostess products* and reminding everyone that the days are just getting shorter from here on out (and have been for almost two weeks), so put that in yer pipe and smoke it.

Hard to believe that 6 months ago at this time I was in London drinking heavily, wearing a tiara, and making an ass of myself by shouting at strangers on double decker buses. (Wish I could say that so much has changed since then, but -- considering that just this past Saturday I was drinking heavily, wearing clown accessories and still making an ass of myself -- I guess things are pretty much the same.) Just look at how far I've come in these last 6 months!

Speaking of, guess this is a good time to check in on how I'm progressing on my New Year's Resolutions, to see if I need to make some adjustments for the second half of the year.

2008 Resolutions:

1. Ace All My Classes. That's about to fall through the floor, thanks to this summer's Chemistry class. I'm adjusting it to be instead: Ace All of My Classes Not Taken During the Summer.
2. Contribute in a Meaningful Way to the Betterment of Society. Definitely on track for this one. I voted in the Illinois primary; I also gave a woman directions to the Red Line that one night. These definitely count. Kinda.
3. Eat More Vegetables. Making strides in this area as well. There was a salad in April. And guacamole. Lots of guac (that's like 50% vegetable or something).
4. Buy a New Bike. Check.
5. Be A Man About Town, Singing All the Lonely Dirges of My Youth. WTF? I don't even know what this means? I must have been drunk when I wrote that one down. But what the hell, I think I'm actually doing well with this one. Except for the singing part. And the being a man about town part too. Moving on...
6. Finally Get a Handle on Those Communicable Diseases. Damn, not so much. Maybe I'll just put this one on the shelf for 2009.

I think I had more, but I'm pretty sure I've misplaced** the list.

Here's to a PROPER 2H08!!

* This is really no different than any other day.
** And by "misplaced" I mean "threw that bitch into the trash."

Question of the Weekend

[Cherry] at 1:30 on Saturday afternoon:

"4 Advil, 3 shots, 2 beers. What could possibly go wrong?"

[Cherry] at 8:30 on Saturday evening: Enough said.

PS - So difficult to decide the best thing about this photo: The clown nose. The unfocused eyes. The look on that other guy's face.

F*ck Off Fridays: Summer School Chemistry Cast of Characters

Remember that movie Summer School with Kirstie Alley and Mark Harmon and the extremely underrated Kelly Jo Minter (the working man’s Rae Dawn Chong?)? If you need a refresher, check out a little snippet here. That movie was awesome for several reasons, one of which was that the material (summer school) is rife with possibilities. Summer school is for losers, isn’t it?

Seriously: growing up, the only people who went to summer school were the idiots who couldn’t get their shit together during the first 9 months of the school year and had to re-take courses. Or the total geeks who took advanced physics or robotics in summer school in order to score better on their SATs and get into MIT.

Either way, it was for losers.

College Summer School – or, to be more specific: Chicago City College Summer School – is no different. If you’ve read this blog over the last year, you’ve witnessed me complain about the people in my Biology course, and this time around my Chemistry class is no different. There are some real winners here (Ed. note: I include myself in this, btw.); about 15 of us suffering through this miserable class.

Yesterday morning, right before we took (yet another) a quiz, three people in my class started a shouting at each other like they were getting ready to Throw Down. WTF, people. Seriously, I thought for a moment I was in the movie Dangerous Minds of something. I'm thinking of bringing popcorn to class starting next week.

I know the names of about four classmates, and the others I don’t really care enough to learn. Instead these others have nicknames, which they've fucking earned. These people include:

1. Fat Tub of Shit Who Makes Snorting Noises When He Breathes guy
2. Shut-The-Fuck-Up-With-Your-Stupid-Questions girl, aka Read the Fucking Book Already girl
3. Pseudo Goth boy (who sits behind Fat Tub of Shit in order to sleep during the second half of class)
4. If-You-Ask-One-More-Time “Is This Going To Be On The Exam?” I-Will-Kick-Your-Ass guy
5. Always-In-The-Corner-In-Fetal-Position-Sucking-His-Thumb-Crying guy *
6. Asian-Who-I-Don’t-Think-Speaks-English-Yet-Still-Gets-an-A-On-Every-Fucking Quiz boy **
7. How Hard Is It to Show Up On Time girl (seriously, she strolls in with her Dunkin Donuts coffee and donut every class period 25 minutes late)
8. How Hard is It to Remember to Turn Off Your Fucking Cell Phone guy (seriously, every class he cell phone goes off and it takes him about 30 seconds to find the phone in his book bag to shut it off)
9. I’ve-Broken-a-Glass-Test-Tube-In-Every-Lab girl
10. Guy Who Hasn't Yet Bought the Book But Really Needs to Because You're a Fucking Moron With All Your Questions

Thanks to all of you, who each in your own special way has made my Summer School experience all the more soul-crushing. Happy Fuck Off Friday to you!

* I-T-C-I-F-P-S-H-T guy may or may not be me

** Yeah, this one is a little racist perhaps. Sue me.

So Long, Simon

[Me and Simon, the day I got him.]

This past weekend I said goodbye to a true friend and trusty companion of mine, my car Simon.

I got Simon on July 7, 2002. He was special - a limited Canadian Launch Edition Mini Cooper (number 452 of 500 made) that was one of several purchased in Vancouver, BC and driven down to Oregon by the Portland Lexus dealer. At that time, it was impossible to get a Mini any other way, because the only Mini dealer in the state had not yet received their shipment because of several production delays (those "lucky" enough to get on the one-year list to buy one were originally supposed to get delivery in June but had to wait until late August - suckers!). Because of this, Simon was one of the only Minis in Portland for the whole summer and he turned heads everywhere we went. It was awesome.

Simon was a good friend and we had some good times together. I know it is silly to humanize a heap of glass, plastic and metal parts; to assign it characteristics and personality (to me, Simon had an easy, friendly and yet refined manner), but in the end it doesn't matter - I miss him like he was a real friend.

After all, my car has been through a lot with me; he's seen me at my best and worst -- I've laughed with friends and family in that car; I've cried alone in that car; I've yelled and started arguments; belted out bad 80's songs from the top of my lungs; danced to bad 90s songs in him; made important decisions; experienced both fear and wonder with him; shared secrets and flipped people the "V" in that car. I was driving Simon when my brother called to tell me that our dad had a heart attack and I needed to fly home right away, and when my friend Shauna called to say she was pregnant. Simon has driven me to weddings and funerals, to engagement parties, birthday bashes and memorial services. I've had wildly inappropriate groping and make-out sessions in him. Speeding tickets and near-miss accidents. I was in Simon at the very moment I decided that if I had some balls I would leave my career to become a nurse instead.

I've driven him to and from San Francisco and Seattle and Vancouver and Philadelphia and NYC. He's driven me clear across the country from Portland to DC, and then again a year later from DC to Chicago. I once left Portland at 2 pm on a Friday afternoon and arrived in Chicago by 8am that Sunday morning (that's gotta be some kind of record), stopping only for food and a 2-hour nap in Iowa.

Simon was a good car to me and never let me down. He was broken into twice - once for my cell phone on Christmas Eve, the other for a few lousy CDs. He's had some scrapes and flats, but always ran like a champ until just a few weeks ago. He blew a rod and developed engine troubles, and it would cost me more than $6K to get him fixed - which I was willing to do - but a mechanic at the shop offered me a really great deal, so I decided it was time for Simon to start a second life with some new people that I know will take good care of him and undoubtedly give them some good times too.

So goodbye, Simon. You'll be missed little buddy.

The [C]R Interview: 6 Questions with 5 of 9er

Kicking off the first in my loooooooong, fascinating, and soon-to-be award winning [Cherry] Ride Interview series is the 5 of 9er.

Niner and I met about 7 years ago, back when we were both living in Portland and his soon-to-be wife LP and I worked together, bonding over our mutual hatred for our jobs and certain co-workers.

A friendship with Niner soon blossomed, one where I have photos of him from my Rock n' Roll-themed Halloween party dressed as a Pussycat from Josie and the Pussycats (or were you Josie? I can't remember) and he has a photo of me from their wedding standing in front of the buffet table shoveling food into my gullet.

Now we all live in Chicago, where he makes fun of my general lameness and I nag him to teach me to skateboard before he and LP become parents, effectively ending any free time he will ever have again.

So without further ado:

1. An unexpected benefit of blogging is..? Friends. Really. I've met some really good people from writing the 5 of 9er. Good people I am glad are part of my life. I've always thought "cyber-friends" were only for dorks, but that is not true. Wait, does this mean I'm a dork?
2. True or False: Only Love Can Break Your Heart. False. A diet high in saturated fat can with no exercise break it too!
3. The best quality you don’t possess is…? The ability to make a good first impression when in a social setting... not a business setting. When I don't have to meet people and be charming I'm often stand-off-ish. Or the ability to have some laugh out loud answers on this survey so all of Cherry's readers don't think I'm a boring chode.
4. Greatest fear? Not being able to find a job... going broke... having to ask my parents if we can move home with them... the seeing if they'll be able to pay for the move... and being completely depressed... and feel like an absolute worthless failure.
5. Fill in the blank: A ____ is not a _____. A "Queef" is not a "Fart".
6. You’re going on a roadtrip. Who are your three other car companions (living or dead; real or fictional), and where are you going? Burt Reynolds, Sally Field, and, Jerry Reed (aka The Bandit, Frog, and Snowman).We'd be driving to the "Southern Classic" stock car race in Georgia from Texarkana, TX with our load of Coors so we can get paid by Big Enos and Little Eno Burdette! [If you're lost... watch Smokey & the Bandit.]

F*ck Off Fridays

Special Fuck You shout-out goes to my Chemistry professor thanks to four activities over the last two weeks:

1. I accidentally spilled a little water on my lab report during lab on Tuesday. Because of this, she actually yelled at me for not being more careful. Seriously. Everyone stopped to look. In all my years of college (yeah, there's been a few), I've never been yelled at by a professor. Like I fucking meant to spill water on it. Like I was a fucking 7-year old child.
2. We had a quiz yesterday, part of which involved identifying the atomic number of a list of elements. One of the elements she gave us - Polonium - was not on the study guide she provided. When the class pointed out to her that it was not on the list and therefore not an element she had asked us to to study, she replied with: "Well, Polonium is an important element and you should know it anyway." You know what else I should know, professor? That I am going to KICK. YOUR. UNORGANIZED. ASS.
3. Last week I had to leave class 30 minutes early for a work meeting. I didn't tell her I was leaving, I just left. I missed the last 30 minutes of a 3.5 hour class (3.5 hours, people!). Because of this, she marked me absent for the entire class period (and we are graded on attendance)! Fuck you, devil woman.
4. We had a quiz on Monday. We had a quiz yesterday. We have another quiz on Monday. That's three quizzes over the span of 5 classes. I know this is summer school and therefore by definition it sucks my ass, but it is clear she fully has no intention of any of us having even just a little bit of fun this summer.

Because of these reasons listed above and others, she leaves me no choice but to show up to class one day completely drunk and belligerent. I don't care that it is a morning class.

Enjoy your Fuck Off Friday, Prof!

6 Questions: The [Cherry] Ride Interviews

I'm starting another regular feature on this blog (since Fuck Off Fridays is going so very well) in which I will ask 6 questions to a different blogger every week. That means if your blog appears on the left, you will be required to participate. It is small price to pay for knowing me (in the blog sense), don't ya think? Yes? Good. Let's move on.

Consider it my version of the Proust Questionnaire that appears in Vanity Fair. I've come up with a list of 21 possible questions, and each week I will select a blogger, e-mail a small subset of these questions for that blogger to ponder and answer, then feature their answers here. My goal is to feature a different blogger every week for a year, since I've got close to that many on my blogroll as of now.

Then, similar to my idea for "100 Drunk Portraits", I am going to compile all the interviews and sell them to Chronicle Books and make a fortune. Or not.

Plus, less blogging I have to do.

First on the chopping block - er, spotlight - is Niner (and not because he is first on the blogroll - it will be a random choosing each week).

The 6 questions will be pulled from this list of 20:

1. Why did you start your blog?
2. True or False: It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp
3. An unexpected benefit of blogging is..?
4. If you could live anywhere, it would be…?
5. You rob a bank and need to hotwire a car. Your choices are a Ford Taurus or PT Cruiser. Which do you choose and why?
6. Your idea of hell is…?
7. Applying both geosocial and aesthetic values, please look at this city subway map (which will be provided) and pick the stop you identify with most and why?
8. True or False: Only Love Can Break Your Heart
9. You are happiest when…?
10. The best quality you don’t possess is…?
11. Biggest indulgence…?
12. Have you ever been close to death?
13. The song I want played at my funeral is _________ because...?
14. Name three actors/actresses who will play you in the movie biopic of your life, ala I’m Not There
15. Greatest fear?
16. If you could change one thing about yourself, it would be…?
17. Fill in the blank: A _________ is not a ______________.
18. Word Association: Donut
19. One talent I wish I had is…?
20. Your place is burning to the ground. What’s the one possession (note: this is a thing, not a person; assume all people and pets living with you are safe) you bring with you?
21. You’re going on a roadtrip. Who are your three other car companions (living or dead; real or fictional), and where are you going?

... And, I'm Back

As you are all tired of seeing the same "It's My Birfday" post for the last week, I've been trying hard to come up with something new and exciting to replace it but frankly I've been coming up a little short.

I thought about writing about how I went to a birthday party Friday night (not my own) and gave a virtually-complete stranger my brand new $250 watch (which was, ironically enough, a birthday present to myself) with no real plan on how to get it back; or how a friend confided to me that I'm his "Number Two Gay" (I thought I was his Number One); or how my new favorite pants may or may not possibly give me the ole moose knuckle; or how awesome it is to try to stand on your bicycle seat while riding through the streets of Roscoe Village at 2:30 am on a Saturday morning; or how Katherine Heigl confirmed today what I've been saying for months now, which is that she is indeed bat-shit crazy; or how I had to explain to my father on Father's Day that when he's feeling thirsty he should try drinking a glass of water instead of a can of Diet Coke because it might be healthier for him and better for his diabetes (he took the news as if it was some newly discovered medical breakthrough that he'd never heard before) or how people need to lay off my Celine Dion incident/confession.

But those are all pretty much self-explanatory.

So I got nothin.

Yo Shawtie, Its My Birfday

It's true. One year closer to Death. Yay for me.

If you really care, you'll send me a some e-card *

Or, buy me this. "Really, [Cherry]?" you're saying to yourself, "I didn't know you were a DJ!" I'm not, but I think I would be good at it and it would look good in my bedroom - you know, that mystical place where I make the magic happen.**

In honour*** of me getting older, here's a list of things I've noticed about me that I am old-ish. Warning: I know most of you think I shit rainbows and butterflies (and you'd be right), but the following list ain't pretty. But really, it shows how much I love you that I can share so much about me, right?

• There was a time when I didn't understand half of what the hell was happening on MTV. Now, I don't get half the shit that happens on VH-1.
• I no longer remember anything that happened in high school.**** Granted, this is likely due to the systematic voluntary willingness to forget it, but still...
• I haven't figured out how to use my hair trimmer to get at the hair that is now growing out of my ears.
• True story: I was driving from Seattle to Portland a few weeks ago and heard a lovely song on the radio and thought "Hmm, I kinda like this and the voice sounds familiar but I can't place it." It turned out to be CELINE DION, people. Celine fucking Dion!!!!
• A hangover, when I get them, now last about a month. I'm still recovering from shit I did in April.
• On those rare days where I don't shower, I develop some pretty funky smells. This is a new thing for me, because up until about a month ago I was one of those "non-sweaty, non-smelly" people.
• And can someone please once and for all tell me what the hell a Hollaback Girl is? Is it a good thing or a bad thing? If I was young, I would know such things.
• I'm contemplating not dressing up for Halloween this year.

* That e-mail address, in case you've forgotten, is: cherry_ride@hotmail.com

** And by "magic" I of course mean eating Double Big Macs on my bed while watching HGTV and Bravo on Friday & Saturday nights, talking to my Aquaman doll, and crying myself to sleep. But only sometimes.
*** It's my birthday and if I want to pretend I am a subject of the Queen, I will.

**** Aside from the occassional flashback of beratement and belittlement from teachers and classmates, of course.

Top 5 Things I Say I'll Be Doing This Summer (Compared to What I Will Actually Do Instead):

I'm channelling McSweeney's today to bring you my list of the Top 5 Things I Say I Will Do This Summer.

Immediately following that is the list of What I Will Actually Be Doing Instead.


What I Say I’ll De Doing:

1. Riding my bike everywhere, especially along the Lake.
2. Buckling down and studying every night for Chemistry.
3. Going to Lollapalooza.
4. Learning to skateboard.
5. Drinking heavily.

What I’ll Really Be Doing Instead:

1. Taking the Blue Line. Or, deciding that I don’t have the energy and staying home instead.
2. Getting up early and skipping the gym so that I can study Chemistry since I didn’t bother studying the night before. Or, maybe just not studying at all and sleeping in another hour.
3. Not going to Lollapalooza. (I mean really -- how many times can you see Death Cab on a hot, steamy crowded afternoon in August??)
4. Buying a skateboard and clearing out room in my closet to store it until I finally decide in two years time to donate it since I never used it.
5. Drinking heavily.

F*ck Off Fridays

So many bloggers seem to have themed days of the week - Julie Gong has her award-winning "Just Nonsense" Fridays; Bee-Spot has her sometimes-impressive "Zach Harrison Memorial Music Mondays"; Fitness Nerd is bringing back his "Tuesday Music Club"; Catherinette has her always-delightful "Just the Tip Tuesdays"; House of Jules has her "Putting the Hump in Humpday" feature, and of course M5K has several theme days throughout the week.

I want a piece of this action (dammit!) so I'm starting* Fuck Off Fridays. Today's FOF is dedicated to asshole recreational athletes, specifically two breeds:

1. Recumbent Bicycle Riders - these people are assholes, aren't they? Nothing screams "Look at me, I crave attention!" more than these fuckers. What, a normal bike isn't good enough for you? Case in point: just look at this guy in the photo - total douchenugget. You know he also goes around bringing wine from his own cellar to restaraunts, beats his dog and eats only macrobiotic food.



2. Joggers Who Run Down Michigan Ave. - you can substitute Michigan Ave for any major touristy street in your city (Oxford, Broadway, Pike, Market, Rodeo, Newbury, etc.). These people are also assholes in need of attention. Bonus douchebag points if they're guys running with their shirts off. Newsflash moron: there's a running path along the lake about three blocks down that you should check out that isn't filled with people shopping. Another newsflash: nobody gives a shit or is impressed that you're out running in downtown Chicago. Next time I'm heading to the Apple Store or Water Tower Place and see you in my way I am totally tripping you, or throwing my big-ass tin of Garrett's Popcorn in your face.

Honorable mention goes to the slow-ass dipshit who swims in the fast lane, ruining my workout once again. Yeah, I'm talking to you, fucker.

* And by "starting" I off course mean I will likely do this once and never speak of it again.

Summer: Started, Is Starting, Will Start

Summer Started...

• ... five weeks ago, the night I took my first sip of that "fresca" drink from the Alibi Room and a Pimm's Cup from The White Horse in Seattle with ReckenRoll and Kate...
• ... four weeks ago, while "attempting" the Helicopter on the dancefloor at Erin & Ryan's wedding reception...
• ... three weeks ago, while enjoying a late-night g&t with friends outside the Aalto Lounge on Belmont in Portland, marvelling at the cobalt night sky past midnight...
• ... two weeks ago, when I decided Niner will teach me to skateboard...

Summer Is Starting...

• ... today, when I walked into my Summer Session chemistry class and let out a groan...
• ... today, when I decided that despite this, I am going to have a good summer...

Summer Will Start...

• ... soon, when I figure out what my summer drink will be...
• ... this week, when I figure out what my Summer Jam will be (and I'm open for suggestions)...
• ... someday, when the Liar's Club sets a date for our Blegger...

When did summer start for you?

Adventures of the Boy Genius (Pt. IV)

Last week while registering for Summer Term, I discovered that I ended up with an "A" in last semester's Anatomy & Physiology course. This was a pleasant surprise since I thought I'd be getting a B, based on my performance on the Final. And then there was this and other things like not studying for quizzes and other stuff. (Btw, this discovery has nothing to do with my post from Friday, which is something else entirely.)

I was reminded through various fliers posted around the hallways and offices that Summer Term "begins the week of June 2" and I could go on here about how soul crushing 4 hours of Chemistry 4 days a week for the next 8 weeks is and how it is going to totally suck any fun I was planning on having this summer, but that will be material for future, hopefully hilarious posts.

Anyway, back to my story. I woke early on Monday armed with a new confidence (thanks to the A in A&P), ready to tackle the summer semester head-on. I rode my bike to school, tracing the quickest and safest path (I'm going to a different City College this summer, not my regular one. But don't worry, I'm still getting the best possible education offered by the award-winning City Colleges of Chicago!!), then even had time to buy a new nifty yellow notebook and some pens. I confidently walked into school, mentally prepared for even the toughest chemistry conundrums.

After a few minutes of noticing that the building seemed rather empty of students, even for summer, I discovered that I was in fact two days early for the first day of class -- I'd shown up on Monday for a class that didn't start until Wednesday.

Fucking hell. I think I might be one of those people who is "book" smart instead of "regular" smart. Or maybe I'm just not smart at all.

BREAKING NEWS: Congratulations to the Niner and LP who found out today they're having a Hot Dog and not a Bun. This is awesome news. Except I had predicted a Bun, so my baby guessing percentage continues to run at about 0%.

I'll Drink to That

There are a lot of times when I don't know what the hell I'm doing. (Shocking, I know.)

I certainly make more than my share of mistakes and fucked-up lots of things over the last few years.

But every once in a great while the old [C]R gets something right. Today is one of those days.

There's no need to go into details, really. And I could have just kept these thoughts to myself I guess. But the next time I pull some shit I guess I'd like to be able to look at this entry and remember that occassionally I can do something good.

I deserve a drink today. Hell, we all do!!

Have a great weekend everyone.

PROPER!

Show of Hands

Who else:

• Thinks the new Hulk movie is going to be a big green turd?
• Is already tired of the new Death Cab album?
• Thinks this is perhaps the greatest culinary invention ever, and also thinks it would make an outstanding gift for the [C]R's upcoming birthday?
• Is annoyed that Monocle magazine has mentioned the 2016 Olympic bid competition twice in as many months without mentioning Chicago as a top contender?
• Doesn't know what the hell Monocle magazine is?
• Will be drinking Summer Shandy all season long?
• Thinks Smith's Night at Danny's could use some improvement, despite the antics of the Private Dancer (it's OK, this is more of an inside joke).

Top 10 Things I'm Doing Tonight Instead of Working on a Major Project Due Tomorrow

1. Updating Facebook.
2. Harassing people on Facebook.
3. Harassing people via text message.
4. Harassing people via phone.
   
5. Updating my Flickr!
6. Eating peanut butter straight from the jar.
7. Vacuuming.
8. Sending an e-mail to Amazon's customer care center to inquire why the book I ordered in February has still not been sent to me.
   
9. Rationalizing how important the above things are vs. not working.
10. Creating lame lists to post on [C]R.
    

That Just 'Taint Right

I'd like to share a story that may or may not be true with y'all. The reason it may or may not be true is because, well, if it were true it would mean that someone may or may not have broken a federal law, which could put someone in a position to be prosecuted by the TSA or the FBI or NSA or some government agency (and those people mean bidnatch, if you know what I mean) if any of them happened to be reading someone's blog.

As you know, somone had a long business trip to Seattle recently. Besides business, that person was able to get in some time for fun also, and therefore needed to pack smartly to accommodate a mix of work clothes, workout clothes, fun clothes and wedding clothes. Also, two laptop computers and other electronics blah, blah, blah. This mixture resulted in a suitcase that weighed 55 pounds, which is 5 pounds past most airline's weight requirements.

On the way out to Seattle, United was kind enough to look past the extra 5 pounds without charging someone $50 (seriously, are you kidding?). On the way back, that person was not so lucky with US Air. So right there at the airport as that person is checking their bag, someone needed to make some quick decisions about what to take out of the suitcase and put instead into their carry-on bag.

... Interlude: While in Portland for the weekend someone picked up a large bottle of Aveda Hydrating Skin Lotion in the 16.9 ounce glass bottle (see photo above). 25 years of competitive swimming and chlorine has destroyed someone's skin and that person pretty much has to put lotion on any time skin touches water. And these days someone don't mess around - the Aveda stuff is really awesome and worth every penny of the $70 price tag. Plus, this is Portland and there's no sales tax so this stuff is a bargain compared to how much it would cost back home in Chicago...

OK, back to the story: So someone is at the airport in line and needs to take some things out of the suitcase because someone sure-as-shit does not want to pay $50 just to get stuff home. One of the things that someone may or may not have decided to put into the carry-on bag is the 16.9 oz. glass bottle of lotion (which, btw, weighs about 5 pounds).

Fast forward 15 minutes, after hitting the bookstore and bathroom someone is about to head through the TSA security line, and suddenly realizes that there may or may not be a huge glass bottle in the carry-on bag, which will totally not make it past security.

Fuck.

This shit is expensive and brand new and who would feel like throwing it into the trash only to buy a new bottle in Chicago (read: 10% sales tax)? Answer: Nobody would, right?

At this point someone may or may not have three choices:

1. Go back to check-in counter and try to check it back into the checked bag (which is likely on its way to the plane), and pay the extra $50 bucks or try to get out 5 pounds of clothes (which wouldn't fit into the carry-on anyway). Uhhh, that would be a big No.
2. Go through security and sweet talk the TSA worker into letting someone bring the bottle through. Have any of you ever heard a story where a TSA worker actually listened to reason? Uhhh, that would be a big No also.
3. Head into the bathroom and stick that big, cold, heavy and expensive bitch of a glass bottle down your pants, snuggling it oh-so-not comfortably in what is known in medical circles as the Taint Region (or TR for short).

Someone may or may not have gone with Choice #3.

Someone may or may not have walked through security with a noticeable limp and uncomfortable gait thanks to the forces at play in the TR, and someone may or may not have made it through security without incident. In case I did not mention it, that big, heavy and expensive bitch of a glass bottle may or may not have been really, really cold to the touch, especially in the TR.

If this story is indeed true, that person is not proud of what happened. That person is normally a law-abiding citizen. Nor would someone advocate trying something this stupid with a federal agency. But today someone may or may not have a big bottle of wonderful Aveda Hydrating Lotion waiting in the bathroom to soothe their dry skin.

People May Not Care That You're Away...

You know when you haven't blogged in a long time and there's just too much to catch up on so why even bother? Yeah, that's kinda what I'm going through at the moment. Something like 16 of the last 25 days have been spent in the Pac Northwest, the place I used to call home that I love and miss very much. I am very reluctant to leave. The trip was a lot of work, and a lot of fun; the best of times, the toughest of times; some laughter (drunk), some tears (drunk, not drunk, hungry). Better than Cats and all that shit.

I'm on the plane heading back to Chicago, and I'm exhausted. During the week I was up late and up early for work stuff; on the weekends I was out late catching up with friends. Instead of boring you all with the play-by-plays (wedding receptions, speeding tickets, celebrity sightings, jogging while intoxicated, you know - the usuals) I'm instead reviewing some of the memorable words said in my presence or texted to me over the course of my trip.

Share them with you? OK, but only because you've insisted. Note: some of the names of the guilty have been redacted to save embarassment.

1. "Like the Doobie Brothers, I'm Taking It To The Streets" (MK, referring to his weekend)
2. "I'm also giving you a ticket for aggressive driving" (Washington State Trooper, who gave me a ticket for going 80 in a 60 somewhere outside of Olympia)
3. "I AM Julie Andrews!" (Kate at the Alibi Room)
4. "That's the problem with christian rock -- you think you're listening to Goo Goo Dolls or Sarah McLachlan and then suddenly it's too late" (PG, referring to the horrible radio options on the drive from Seattle to Portland)
5. "It's a Boston Thing -- you wouldn't understand" (said by me and Kate to Recken at the Alibi Room)
6. "I met a homeless guy with no thumbs the other night" (texted to me out of nowhere by GFC)
7. "[C]R will have a boyfriend before you do" (Dave to Recken, when discussing possible wedding dates)
8. "I should have at least removed my SPANX" (SS, referring to some other stuff we don't really need to get into)
9. "I woke up and had no idea what was going on - I walked into the kitchen to take a dump" (MK, referring to his Sunday morning)
10. "This is the first I have heard the term 'Cock Block' and will be incorporating it in to my everyday worklife as often as possible" (SS via e-mail)
11. "That song is Spunky. And I need to inject some Spunk into my life this summer" (me, to Erin, referring to this)
12. "She doesn't like Shia LeBouf??? Why the fuck does anyone have a problem with Shia LeBouf??" (RK)
13. "Hurricane!!" (Recken)
14. "Vaginal discharge" (texted to me by a guy on my blogroll who shall remain nameless during a very important work meeting)
15. "The 80s called and they want their shoes back" (SR, referring to these)
16. "I want my own Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa!" (MA, while listening to Vampire Weekend)
17. "I can't serve you shots of vodka because that's against the rules. However, I can serve you tumblers of vodka over ice if you'd prefer" (by the bartender and Erin & Ryan's reception)
18. "I'm embarrassed to ride in your car with you!" (AR, referring to my piece of shit rental car)
19. "I've been duped by Newton Faulkner!" (me to Ryan & Erin, after purchasing the less-than-stellar new NF CD)
20. "We'll be a power couple in Boston!" (Recken)

Hiya Kids:

For the sake of my remaining 12 readers who are now contemplating leaving this blog in the dust, I thought it prudent to post and say hello.

Things have been hella busy. I've pretty much forgotten how to blog, and I haven't been reading anybody else's (the Google Reader count for unread posts from my blogroll at left is something like 220).

I'm in Seattle and have been for the last week. Yesterday was the culmination of a major work project/event which had been progressively taking up more and more of my time. And I'm exhausted - instead of celebrating the success of the event, I attended a work reception where I didn't eat or drink, and my evening ended with me laying on my hotel bed at midnight, enjoying a dinner of M&Ms and potato chips (seriously).

But now that it's done, things will slow down. Heading back to Chicago next Tuesday, so although it has been busy it is awesome spending two weeks in the Pacific Northwest. Fresh air, good friends and all that bullshit. Hopefully no pig statue riding this time, though.*

Two of my best friends in the world had their wedding reception last weekend in Portland. Enough material there to write a dozen posts about how awesome it was. And I purchased a new suit for it on a whim. I am a bit of a dandy.

I did well during Finals week last week. Not great, but good. Considering how little time I had to devote to studying and preparing presentations and papers, I am content.

Awright, gotta go into another debriefing meeting. Then tomorrow I'll be driving down to Portland (again) for a long weekend. Of the last four weekends, three of them have been/will be spent down there, which is Proper.

* Although I can really never rule that possibility out, especially since tonight I'm hanging with ReckenRoll who got me into that kind of trouble in the first place.

Random

[this photo has nothing to do with anything, but I thought it was funny and it is one of Recken's neighbours]

It's 12:45 on Friday night/Saturday morning. And I was studying but I don't feel like it anymore. I could go home and sleep but the coffee and bag of M&Ms (and not a little bag - one of those big ones) I had for dinner have me feeling, well, awake. So I will continue to hang here at Starbucks with all the other complete losers.

To add insult to injury, it is a beautiful night here in Chicago, and Classy invited me to experience the freakshow spectacle of Looptopia. Rubber monkey puppets and M.A.D.D. Rhythms' Tapethetically Speaking rhythm nation tapdancing vibe? Normally I'd be all up in that shit, but I gots to study. Meissner corpuscles and interventricular foramina aren't going to learn my brain all by themselves, if you know what I'm saying.

I've been thinking about my week, reflecting on some of the more random things that I've experienced. Share them with you? Sure, but only because you are insisting. In no particular order:

• I woke up on Thursday and realized that I hadn't had a shower since Tuesday. As I normally shower at least once a day, I still cannot figure out how I let the hell that one slip by. See, this is the problem with working alone and generally being anti-social -- there's nobody around to tell you that you smell.

• Tuesday night I had a disturbing dream that I was drowning. To the point that I remember that horrible sensation of water filling my lungs and not being able to breathe. This is especially peculiar since I'm a good swimmer and have I've always believed that it would be impossible for me to drown even in the worst circumstances. Guess not.

• Another weird dream I had yesterday: I finally met Neil Finn in a hotel lobby (Crowded House is back in Chicago next weekend and I'm sad because I'm missing the show as I will be out of town. My love for Neil and Crowded House is well-documented). Anyway, in the dream I blathered to him how much I loved him and his music and he's a genius and blah, blah, blah and I actually started crying in the dream. WTF?

• Speaking of WTF and crying, on the treadmill the other day watching CNN (there's only so much VH-1 I can watch) and it was a report on New Orleans and I started crying. At the gym. On the treadmill. In front of other people.

• Anybody remember that song "Steel Claw" by Ms. Tina Turner? Yes? No? Well if not, you best be looking it up because it is the Shit. "It doesn't matter when you're lying in the gutter... It's what you get for messing with the steel claw." Damn, that's poetry right there.

• My roommate is a sweet girl and she recently found me on Facebook (still not sure how that happened...). But if she sends me one more fucking hug/happy hour/teddy bear/"what kind of car/ice cream/pony are you?" bullshit invite application I will take a hammer to her keyboard.

• At school I got an actual love note passed to me. It was like being in high school all over again (except I never got love notes passed to me in high school but nevermind). I'll spare all the details but it read along the lines of: "I see you in the library and cafeteria and if you want to hang out this summer call me..." If this person only knew I was probably twice her age she'd probably throw up. But anyway, I guess the attention from barely legal girls can be flattering? Or not? Nevermind.

• Can pink eye be caused from stress? Cuz there's something not pretty happening yesterday and today with my left eye.

• Also, I have a goddamned pimple in my ear. Seriously. WTF?
  

Thanks and have a good weekend.