 |
|
|
Wednesday, June 30 This is from the drive home today. Check the spelling. I'm not sure if like one of those "funny, ha-ha, let's see how many people notice" kind of things or one of those "dude, I did the lettering myself" kind of things. Either way, its effing a, man.  Seriously. It says TOYOYA. 10:12 PM | allison | # | Yesterday after work R and I hiked ourselves down to the Taste of Chicago. For those of you who have never been, let me tell you a little story. Once, in the great Land of Lincoln, some guy decided it would be a good idea if some of the local restaurants all got together at once and sold food to people in the park. And let them drink beer and listen to live music while they walk around and eat. Everyone decided it was a good idea.  There were a lot of people at the Taste of Chicago yesterday. 10:09 PM | allison | # |  There was also a lot of food. Some of it on a stick. 10:08 PM | allison | # |  The drive home. The end. In case you can't tell, I'm growling while I'm flipping her the bird. But I don't remember why. Chances are I had a pretty good reason. Wow. Look how poofy my hair is. Yikes. 10:07 PM | allison | # | I got "baby-ed" last night. By the guy in the McDonald's drive-thru. I've gotten baby-ed before. I used to get baby-ed and sweetie-ed by Run Bob. Let me tell you about Run Bob. At my old apartment complex, there was a small gym-like facility on site. It had a couple of treadmills, a handfull of stationary bikes, a stairmaster and one of those large weight machine thingys. I used it regularly, mostly because it was cheap ($45 for the whole year!) and convenient. I would see the same people when I would go to the rec area. It's the same with the gym I belong to now. We all have a routine and part of that routine is visiting the gym at the same time of the day. At my little rec area at the old apartment complex, I would see Muscular Wife-Beater Guy. He was muscular and wore wife-beaters to work out. Creative, huh? I also regularly saw Big Fat Guy Running and Sorority Look At My Ass Girl. All of us were usually there about the same time every day. The only thing I ever saw Muscular Wife-Beater Guy do was work the weights. He never did the treadmills or the bike or the stairmaster. Just weights. And I'm not sure if he counted his reps. I would count (dude, there isn't much else to do when you're running in place) and he would never be consistent in his lifts. Sometimes 8, sometimes 19, sometimes 12. But whatever. Once, it was just me and MWBG. BFGR and SLAMAG were absent. I'm running. MWBG was lifting weights. Big surprise. After he finished, he came over and struck up a conversation. We talked about running. He was looking for a running buddy and I was too, mostly for the accountability factor. I told him I run on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. He could join me if he wanted to. He was no longer MWBG, but Run Bob. Because he was going to run with me and his name is Bob. Shut up. I'm not super-creative when I'm gasping for breath. The next Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, he joined me for my run. And by joined me for my run, I mean he lifted weights while I busted my ass on the treadmill. I don't remember why or how, but I was persuaded to give him my phone number. He used it too. Liberally. He called a lot and that was when I got baby-ed and sweetie-ed. This man I hardly knew, who wore wife-beaters and couldn't count, called me baby. And I took no offense. In fact, it made me giggle. He never used it in a derogatory way and it was almost an endearment coming from him. Once when he called he wanted to set me up with one of his friends. I think the friend was him. Another time he called he wanted me to come see him at work. He was a bouncer at a shady little club on the south side. I went to DQ instead. Snickers Blizzards are yummy. After that, he stopped calling. Last night, in the McDonald's drive-thru, however, I'm pretty sure he was using baby in an endearing way. It was more of a thosegirlsinthedrivethrougharelaughingalotmaybethiswillannoythemandputanendtothelaughter kind of way. R was there, maybe she knows. What do you think, baby? 8:57 AM | allison | # | Sunday, June 27 I've been meaning to post these photos, but I just haven't gotten around to until now. It seems quiet Sunday morning is as good as time as any.  Late night fires with my family. 10:42 AM | allison | # |  Heritage Fest 10:39 AM | allison | # |  Carl doing what he loves. 10:38 AM | allison | # |  After the storm. 10:35 AM | allison | # | Friday, June 25 Ok. I had a dream the other night about my brother. He had gone to the Phish concert as planned, but never came home. In my dream, it was just like on the show Without a Trace, where all of a sudden, his image gets blurry and finally fades away. Everything was gone. His tent, the car, everything. Just disappeared. We never knew what happened. In my dream, years later I saw him playing his guitar at this festival but he didn't know who I was. I woke up thinking crazy things. He actually hadn't even left for the concert when I had the dream. He called me at work that same day to say goodbye but I missed his call and it went into voicemail. I had really, really wanted to tell him to have fun, but be careful. I called my folks to pass along my message when he called to check in. This morning, my mom called. My brother called them last night around midnight. His tent had been rifled through and his wallet and keys were missing. A trip to the car and he realized it had been gone through too. He ended up sleeping in the car to make sure it wasn't stolen and my dad is on his way there now with the spare set of keys. I'm almost more freaked out now than I was before. Up until recently, within the last few months or so, I hardly ever remembered my dreams. I knew that I did dream because everyone does, but I was never able to recount anything that happened in them. But then a few months ago, I had dreams on consecutive nights where I was killed during my dream. Once by gunshot and once by fire. Nice, huh? Those freaked me out too, but after a little reasearch I found out that death and fire, in dreamspeak anyway, mean a new beginning. At the time, it was very true too. I had just finished one part of my life and was ready to move on to another. But I had no idea what the dream about my brother meant. I was afraid that it meant I was losing him somehow. I'd go nuts if that happened. He has always been such a big part of my life, I'd be empty without him around. After a little research, I'm thinking that my dream has something to do with him being a little out of control, if not a bit unorganized and unsure. He's had a little bit of bad luck lately it seems, and maybe this will be the end of it. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* This is totally unrelated to my brother. Occassionally, I get those packets and little flier packets full of coupons and advertisements. I almost always go through them because once in a while I find a coupon that I could actually use. Last night was no exception. I found a coupon for my favorite pizza place that I will be able to put to very good use. I also found an ad that is so outrageous, I couldn't help but laugh. I brought the ad in because I was going to scan it in, but then I realized that there is WEBSITE. The Secret Lift Face Lifting Kit promises an instant facelife or your money back. There is no surgery, no miracle creams, no chemical peels. No gimmick, people! I'm not really in the market for a facelift, but the ad had me intrigued. How, I wondered, do you get a "facelift" without going under the knife? Easy. Tape and a giant rubberband. According to the ad, here is how Secret Lift works (bold is theirs, not mine): Special hypo-allergenic tape adheres unnoticeably with concealed, fully adjustable elastic band, lifting sagging skin, eliminating wrinkles from face, eye area, neck and jawline. Ok, fine. Whatever. I kinda get the rubberband. But tape? What happens when your hair gets caught on it? Or what if, it gets dusty. I have a roll of tape in my desk drawer at home and every time I need to use it, I have pick off little pieces of glitter and lead and whatever else was floating around in my drawer. And I'm thinking, what if that happens to the special hypo-allergenic tape? What if its a really windy spring day and all that dandelion shit is blowing all around and it get caughts in the tape? You'd have a pretty hard time explaining why dandelion crap is stuck to you and why you have tape on your face int he first place. I'm just saying. 8:29 AM | allison | # | Thursday, June 24 Part of my job being a corporate whore is writing job descriptions. It's one of the few interesting things that I do and mostly because I get to fake being in charge and am able to pick and choose the characteristics that I think a person doing the job should have. I use a web-based software and after I'm done picking and choosing, I get an email with the job description I just created. I'm currently working on a dozen or so for a company that makes robes and other religious-ish kinds of costumes, so I've got a lot of embroidery and single needle machine operators. There is a point to all this, I swear. While I was searching for a sample stenciling operator, I ran across one for a tattoo artist. And it reminded me of a couple of summers ago, when my brother and I were going to get the same tattoo for his birthday. A little kokapeli, his on the right shoulder blade, mine on the left. Shut up. It's a cute idea. My brother got his and my cousin got her La brea pierced. She's got beautiful Julia Roberts lips and it looked awesome once the redness and swelling went down. Incidentally, she is currently dating a tattoo artist named Bucky. I am still inkless. The job summary for the tattoo artist reads: Pricks skin of patron, using needled electric tool, that inserts indelible nontoxic pigment into skin to form decorative or ornamental design by performing the following duties. Ok. First, I've wanted to get inked for a while but have yet to muster up the courage. The pain factor is a huge issue for me as well as the noise the little pen thingy makes. It's like the drill the dentist uses. Which is the main reason I'm a little anal about brushing and flossing so as to avoid the harsh sounding drill thingy. Second, that description totally creeps me out. Pricks skin? Ouch. Using needled electric tool. Whahuh? Needle=ouch. Electric tool=power drill. Just that combination of words is"giving me goosebumps. Insert nontoxic pigment into skin. I guess that's better than inserting toxic pigment into the skin. Remember when I said there was a point to all this? Well, nevermind. I forgot what it was. 2:02 PM | allison | # | Tuesday, June 22 I know I've been quiet lately. But there's a lot going on in my head. Thoughts about the difference between dreamers and doers. Things happening for a reason. And what that reason is. Waiting for something and not knowing what that something is. Maybe when I get some of that sorted out I'll be back. The weekend was good. I spent more time at home with my family. I've been needing that more and more lately. I feel like I miss them more now when I'm not with them than I did when I lived 1,200 miles away. Saturday was spent in the sun finishing the new David Sedaris. Sunday, we had a huge breakfast, played a round of frisbee golf, grilled steak and had s'mores by the fire while my brother sang and played. It was exactly what I needed. 8:53 AM | allison | # | Tuesday, June 15 Last night my parents took me to Ravinia. To see the Beach Boys. And it rocked.  The really, really bossy kid on the blanket next to ours. 8:36 PM | allison | # |  We were really close. To the speaker. 8:35 PM | allison | # |  Beautiful day for a concert. 8:35 PM | allison | # | Monday, June 14 Just a little addendum...the best line in The Stepford Wives was said by this incredible guy. Surrounded by a roomful of manly men, in a wood paneled, leather sofa filled library/smoke room, he says, "It's Ralph Lauren meets Sherlock Holmes. It says I have taste and a scrotum." 12:13 PM | allison | # | Dinner and the show on Friday were excellent. The show made me think about things I really don't want to, like my parents getting older and what's going to happen when that time arrives. It also made me very thankful that I have as close relationship with them as I do. Saturday saw blue skies and beer nuggets. R and I took a long drive out to DeKalb to bask in the sun and the glow of beer. Or Mike's. But you know, whatever. We were lured to my parent's house with the promise of barbeque and an outdoor fire on the patio. I don't think we left until after midnight. Stock club got me up Sunday morning, and my couch got me back afterwards. I had catnaps on and off between loads of laundry. And the house is now mostly back in order. Mostly. I caught The Stepford Wives with a friend that afternoon and relaxed on the margarita patio of a local mexican restaurant. It was a good weekend for my tired soul. 10:28 AM | allison | # | Friday, June 11 I'm running a little late it seems. Not for an appointment or anything, but for my life. The things I dreamt for myself at 15 aren't reality. And that's probably good. The things I wanted at 15 probably wouldn't make me happy right now. Especially the dog. I'm allergic to dogs. But I still feel like I'm late; that I should have done a lot more by 27. I've got a lot of things to sort out right now. I dislike my job a great deal and want to leave. With the possibility of law school in the future, it would be a lot easier to just stay where I am. And endure the suckiness of getting up every day to a job that bores and frustrates me. I guess I just answered my own question. I don't want to do that. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to pack it all up and go be a waitress some place warm. I'd live in a small apartment, take public transportation to work and visit my friends and family often. I wish I could get rid of the reasonable person inside me who worries about health insurance and paying the bills and pleasing my boss. I'm not even sure if Law School is the right thing for me. I've always dreamed about going. More than anything, I'm afraid of regretting not trying. What's that quote? I do not regret the things I have done, but those which I did not do. I hear that. But really, I could do that no matter what job I have. Some days I really hate being the one in charge of me. All that aside, I do have another weekend in the Summer of George planned. R and I are headed for dinner at J. Alexander's and I Never Sang For My Father at Steppenwolf tonight. Saturday is pretty free, and Sunday I'm hoping to make it to the Blues Fest with my brother. Hooray for the weekend! 2:50 PM | allison | # | Tuesday, June 8 It's happened again. Screw the educational reimbursement, this place isn't worth it. It's time to blow this pop stand. Update: I found this quote and found it entirely fitting. It is never too late to become the person you were meant to be. -George Eliot. Thanks, Leanna, for your encouragement. You're right and wise beyond your years. 3:09 PM | allison | # | Sunday, June 6 Yesterday, I went home. I was surrounded by the people that love me and the home I grew up in. Somehow, that makes everything better.  Home. 2:22 PM | allison | # |  My mom. 2:07 PM | allison | # |  Gerber daisy. 1:53 PM | allison | # |  Columbine. 1:52 PM | allison | # |  My dad. 1:52 PM | allison | # |  My brother. 1:51 PM | allison | # |  The drive home. 1:50 PM | allison | # | Friday, June 4 On making decisions, friends and other stuff. See, here's the thing. I want to go to law school. I'm taking the LSAT and will apply to schools this fall for admission in the Spring/Summer 2005. I've got a plan. But I hate my job. It's literally mind-numbing and I'll go crazy before much longer. But if I end up in school, I have a feeling it would be better to have a job like mine, where I get paid ok, have little responsibility and a fairly flexible schedule. I'm just not sure I can last until next year doing this. I just don't know. Seriously, my favorite part of the night was in the car on the way home. She kept covering her face with her hands and saying, "Oh. I'm drunk." And I would reply, "I know." It doesn't sound that funny now. But it was last night. I swear. There's more in my head, but I'm having trouble putting it in words. Maybe later. 8:23 AM | allison | # | Thursday, June 3 Cheers, my friend. 
Cheers. 4:03 PM | allison | # | |
|
