As of Late:

Random things:

1. I am a lover of Obama. I had the chance to watch the DNC and was at times moved to tears. Hope brings tears. It does. I eat it up. I am jealous that Lindsey went to Denver.

2. I have decided that we all need to love our country before we can expect it to change. We are all lucky mother lovers for living here, accept it. Realize it. It is like that old thing where people say "you need to love yourself before someone can love you". Well...we need to love our country before it can love us back.

3. I was on the L this evening...there is this little nook in cars. It is closed off if it is the driver's car. There was a man in there. I am certain no one knew the craziest man on earth was seated in there. But then...randomly...this horrifying laugh came from that area of the car. It was a LOUD "I am about to take over the world and I am pure evil laugh". Everyone looked and looked around "what the heck" was written across everyone's face with a splash of fear.

I am a doomsday kind of lady. You should probably want me around when terror strikes because I always masterminding a plan and I am not afraid to be the one that takes action.

I imagine he might come out wielding a knife or a gun. We would all be held hostage by the madman. I looked around the train and saw .... mmmm....maybe one guy that had any balls.

Men just aren't tough these days. They are pussies. I blame diminishing gender roles and the growing popularity of wine and fine cheeses. Really ladies, if you refuse to learn how to cook and bake - a man is certainly not going to know how to change a tire or fight off an intruder. We've made the bed. We shall sleep, unprotected in it. However...I am NOT to blame for this decay. Please, stand up and raise your hand if you are and walk away from me in shame.

So, I figure I can always plan and attack at an unsuspected in movies. Yup...that is where I get all my plans.

I am unnaturally strong when I have been drinking so I figure the same is true in emergency situations. Only time will tell, only time will tell.

I figure it takes one person to start a revolution so once I have pinned the psycho down, others will assist.

I will be victorious and be interviewed by local TV stations and my undoubted 15 minutes of fame will begin.

These are the things I think...


was one of these days:

and if you don't know what a billing code is...your job is luxurious.

The Dark Knight

I went to see The Dark Knight...

I am not about to bore anyone with my opinion. That is not what you come to me for. You come to me for comments like this:

Maggie's tits were successfully contained in a film for the first time in movie making history.

I still think she was not wearing a bra at any time. However they had her in suit jackets and vests. There was an excess of jiggle at one point when she was walking. When she was not dressed in some type of stiff double layer there was not enough movement or the material was the kind to not allow for excess nipple and flop.

Congrats to her! I was not distracted by her flip flopping ta-tas!

I like that Maggie. I just wish she would exercise her freedom to wear a bra in her movies.

Near death? Not really...

Often times I make fun of my friends that are afraid of being killed by a psycho killer. The people that are afraid of parking lots, elevators, and being alone in general watch too much Law and Order or CSI or Dateline. It is absurd. People need to stop watching that shit. It doesn't make you aware. It makes you a nutcase. AND....quite frankly - STOP flattering yourself. No one wants to murder you. However:

Well...I was a victim of the irrational thought twice on Friday when I was out on the streets. I believe the second psycho thought was just a psycho thought hang-over from the morning psycho thought.

On my way to work, I stop for a RedEye. I bent down to pick one up and a man said "here...take this one"

"thanks" I said and then I thought:

This thought is insane. Then I looked up and noted it was a black man that gave me his newspaper.

OH...I thought....nevermind that silly thought. Black people do not participate in any kind of chemical warfare so I am totally in the clear. That kind of deranged behavior is exclusively reserved for my people, the white people. High Five!

This thought is funny to me on two levels: Number one: this clearly comes from all that hub-bub last week about that anthrax dude killing himself.

Second - I don't know anything about anthrax. Could some be sprinkled on my newspaper and I die? If so - wouldn't the man that handed it to me also die? Really - I don't even know what happens when you come in contact with it. I do know it is bad for the post office and Tom Brokaw. I never took the time to research the...whatever it is.

I was walking home and it was dark out. There was a man about a half block in front of me. He was shadow boxing with his shadow cast by the street light. Lunatic behavior...he is practicing killing me.

He was a tall white male with a buzzed hair cut he seemed very strong to me - in a clumsy way...I pictured him swatting my head like a silverback gorilla. I would fall into the street and my ear would bleed. Then I would die. Right there on Sunnyside. He would take my bag and be pissed that I have nothing to offer but access to an account with little money and some shoes I purchased at Target for $6.24.

Then...he stopped. He turned around started looking at me. He moved from one side of the sidewalk to the other - clearly trying to make me out in the shadows he was previously boxing in.


I really am going to die.

I considered moving to the other side of the street. But I never know if this is a good idea. You don't want to set off the maniac. Any wrong move - it could be over. It is my theory you don't want offend white psychopaths or someone of any race you think may have a gun or a blade.

So...I stayed in my path.

When I was 2 feet from him he said:

"Oh hey! I'm sorry! I thought you were someone else"

Yeah right you insane killing madman! Clearly you were sizing me up. You could see I was above 5'6" and I could bust you up.

I said "oh yeah...that is ok...I considered moving to the other side of the street.........then...I didn't"

Great - why did I just say that. Now he will be pissed and kill me. I am not convinced he is a rational man.

"Ohhh - no...ugghh I'm sorry" he said.

"no no - it's okay" I said and hustled past him. When I looked back, I saw him duck into some kind of recovering addict center. Let's hope he doesn't relapse and find me.

I wonder if the FBI is going to read my blog since I used the word anthrax several times. If so - please leave a comment...and call me...and follow me in a white van for 2 days. Then I will have something to blog about.

I don't get this ad...

This image has been annoying me for weeks....
....Believe in something better....
as in....What?

a. Believe that your family can live in something beyond a cardboard box regardless of this foreclosure market of crushing dreams?

b. Believe that, although you have been told you are infertile you may one day have your own baby...and not a small Asian child delivered via cardboard box.

I just don't get it.

The Diamond I was just going to put on Love on the Rocks as my music....due to my previous post...

Then I rekindled my love for Neil. I loose it every now and then, and for that I am foolish. FOOLISH...This man is a GENIUS!

I don't mean to get all Jack Black on you...but if you can not acknowledge that Neil Diamond is the finest American singer/songwriter of all have some kind of issue.

You do. You are a fool.

I have been least three Neil Diamond concerts. They ROCK! Neil has killer moves. He captivates an audience..I am not kidding. If you have been to see Neil - you KNOW what I am talking about.

Plus I have enjoyed Super Diamond...Twice.

And...who never in their life has screamed out "suck my cock" - even if you are girl during that certain part of Sweet Caroline while drunk at a bar? Who? YOU HAVEN'T LIVED, DAMN IT!

...or maybe you did not live at The Thirsty Beaver circa 1996 - 200?


So....I have not blogged in a long time.

I will try to make up for it:

I went to a Cubs game with my friends, Alyssa and Liz. Liz is a smarty pants and is going away to get her MBA at Indiana. Good for her and back to me.

So the storms were brewing that afternoon and morning in sweet home Chicago. In fact, I believe that morning it was dark as night. Or maybe that was the morning before. I have no clue. All I know is that after living in the state (AZ) where the bright, sunny, unforgiving sky screams sunshine 363 days of the god damn year....I still love me some overcast. But, my memory is not as good as it used to be (clearly sun damage). Anyway- the skies cleared and the game was on.

It should be noted - I do not go to Cubs games to watch the game. One of the reasons I like Wrigley is because it is like watching a baseball game in some one's backyard. There is no annoying screens and music. Just ivy and an organ. That is all you order to have conversation and not be distracted by some silly game.

All of a sudden the players were running off the field. For a second I thought there was a fight. I witnessed a bench clearing fight last summer and I loved it. I love violence. It is entertaining. Maybe I should start following hockey.

But alas, it was the rain.

Then the guys came out with to cover the diamond. I have never seen this done before and I enjoyed it. The organ played a special diamond covering song. Maybe he should play a Neil Diamond song? Like, Love on the Rocks? After all, Suddenly you're out there, walking in a storm!!!!! Sing it with me.

The whole covering the diamond thing is fantastic. It is well choreographed and quick. Kind of like an earthbound white man version of Cirque Du Soleil...only different.

Eventually we were told to 'seek shelter on the concourse level". Hmmmm...I am not a fan of the term "seek shelter". It sounds like death is coming.

I kind of liked this. I figured it could be a great tragedy, I would die and my name would be forever immortalized on a bronze plaque outside the new or reconstructed Wrigley Field.

This did not happen. We left the Wrigley and hop, skipped, and jumped out way to a bar. Where we sat in front of a window while a tornado brewed outside.

I voiced concern. I feared the window would break in and I would forever be disfigured. I am beautiful damn it. I am slightly ethnic looking and beautiful and this beauty can not be reconstructed via plastic surgery. (God - I hope people are reading this with my faux arrogance/self deprecating sense of humor).

Liz thought I was being ridiculous. Not really...she is a nice lady. She thought it was a little silly and said we would move if it got worse...even though the bartender thought it odd we chose to sit there. I was being a baby! This is what it comes down to and I am glad when people talk me off the psycho ledge and back to normalville. The window was not going to blow in and disfigure me. I was not going to end up looking like that guy from that Cher movie. Plus - if it did....and I was disfigured....I could totally join a Disfigured From a Storm Society and totally meet a great guy. It is like being a midget (see earlier post on midgets). Out of everything bad...comes something good.

So...that is the story. I lived. I liked it. I was kind of evacuated...