RAWR!

Then, Then, And Then

Ahh, why can't every day be like yesterday? I guess days like yesterday are rewards for having days like today. Except, I have to admit: today's been pretty nice, too. But not as nice as yesterday.

My Friday started out in Batavia. I'd taken Metra late on Thursday and spent the night with Jennie at her parents' place. We woke up around 9, no alarm clocks needed. I wasn't forced to expel a half-pound of phlegm and snot from my cranial cavities, so I knew I was finally beating my cold. Jen and I sat on the deck, enjoying the damp, cool morning and talking about birthdays and our Hawaii holiday plans. Her nephews and family's four dogs swarmed around us, but it was still somehow peaceful. Maybe I was blissed out on the huge bowl of Trix in front of me.

Then we went to Target, which is one of 931 (mostly brand new) places to shop in her hometown. I wanted to find a sun hat and a sun dress and some sunglasses for our upcoming trip. Jennie was willing to tag along if I went to Victoria's Secret with her afterwards. Neither of us are super shoppers but listening to the Flight of the Conchords' Robot Song helped us remain cheerful in the face of Retail Domination.

We met her sister and nephews at a matinee of Kung Fu Panda, which you should all see. With your nephews, maybe. It's now my third-favorite Jack Black flick (which is fun to say outloud). Afterwards, Jen and I finished making plans for our excursion to Kauai, and then we played some basketball and got some Taco Bell and DQ. It's really a shame we weren't friends in high school.

Then I took the train to Oak Park and met some of my favorite work friends for mojitos at Maya, and we got silly talking about our husbands. Then I made my way verrrry slowly into the city, over to a bar called Weegee's in some hipster-frontier stretch of Armitage, and got silly playing stand-up shuffle board with a fun assortment of Knoxies. 

Then I took a cab to the heart of Tourist Town, the RockBottom Cafe. Kim was there with lots of reporters from various publications; they'd all been covering the R. Kelly trial and were now trying to recover from it. I might have been too liquored up to contribute much to it, but their conversation was really interesting.

Hidden Panels

If this story about a puzzle-filled apartment isn't one of the coolest things you've ever heard about, then your life is filled with entirely too many cool things.

Matching Purse

Another day battling The Head Cold That's Totally Cramping My Style. I had to call into work today, like I did last Friday, and beg off. I couldn't imagine explaining how to play the summer reading game to a group of eager 8-year-olds while trying not to spew mucus on them. Plus I'm working on less than three hours of sleep despite having officially turned in at 10:30 pm. So, I'm at home and stuffed up, uncomfy and kinda bored. Seems like I've got no excuse not to finally post some pictures from my grandma's visit...

...problem is, I took some terrible pictures. Yeah, they were with a digital, and I could have spent an extra few moments getting a better shot, but I was always working hard to balance my natural impatience with Grandma's natural take-forever-ness. I also kept forgetting to take pictures at opportune times. Where's the snapshot of Grandma in the Monet Garden at the Conservatory? Of her exiting the Johnny Mathis concert enthralled and humming? Of her debating which sparkly top to wear to Jersey Boys? Ack, I was a bad paparazzo.

Anyway, here are a few I managed to get.

Here she is modeling our rented SUV. She wanted a shot of the vehicle in front of our building, but I assured her that ours looked a lot like that one. Yeah, that was a bratty move on my part.

I love Dave's expression here. It's a perfect "Eww, Great-Grandma Annie, stop smooching me!" face.

We did keep trying to get a good picture of one of us looking out the window on the 95th floor of the John Hancock. I like this one because you can see the city's grid under her ghostly reflection.

Here she is holding up her program during the Jersey Boys intermission. I was hoping she'd like the show (it was an extra surprise for her), but I wasn't expecting to LOVE it myself. I've been singing Four Seasons songs in the shower ever since.

This is how she dresses just for the ride up to Chicago. The woman is classy.

What Happened When I Went Off The Pill

1. Everyone I told was all, like, "WHA-HAT? Are you trying to get sprogged up?" Negative. I just wanted to know what my body would do without the added hormones.

2. Kim was all, like, "WHA-HAT-ever." He's supportive like that, despite the experiment requiring a bit more contraceptive participation on his part.

3. I stopped crying so much. Scratch that--I cry just as much (the House season finale!), but not as hard.

4. I did buy a pregnancy test at one point. Who knows if it was merited, but I completely lost track of my cycle. In the end, I decided my cycle had just lost track of itself.

5. My face is broken out like crazy. I had wondered how much of my generally improved complexion was due to Yaz and Seasonique and how much was due to growing the eff up, and the truth was...it was all the pills. I've got so many zits I'm temporarily more in awe than I am depressed about them.

6. I decided to get back on the little buggers, asap.

Aurora

I had trouble sleeping Saturday night, thanks to a headache, snot-stuffed nose, and throat full of thorns. I drug myself out of bed, drugged myself up, and tried to focus on some Roseanne reruns. But not even Darlene getting her first period could keep my attention. I just lay moping on our guest bed, watching rain beat against awindow.

Then something incredible happened. The sky...shifted. The rain stopped suddenly, and I could see downtown again. The horizon seemed to glow. All the firmament's blacks and grays just flipped, to blues and pale violets.

I was astonished--was there a tornado coming? Were there aliens coming? Was just a very distinct, beautiful weather front pushing through? Why was it so light? I thought about waking up Kim so he could see it but on my way back to get him, I noticed our kitchen clock: 4:45 am. It wasn't a miracle--it was dawn. I'd forgotten about that.

Crack-Me-Up Packaging

On the bottom of my 12-pack of Cherry Coke Zero:

Who knew soft drinks could be so hydrating? It's true. All beverages hydrate, including soft drinks. So if you are looking for hydration, but want the delicious and refreshing taste you get from Coca-Cola, don't compromise--go for it! You'll be hydrating your body with each and every sip.

Man, I knew drinking water was an unnecessary compromise!

On the back of my grandma's bottle of no-name hairspray:

The Story of GENERIC

GENERIC PRODUCTS have always strived to bring you the best quality without the high prices. GENERIC uses the same ingredients as other name-brands but does not CHARGE you, the customer. It is our mission to always bring you the best for less. 

That's...just not a story.

Holding Out For Molly & Mason

It's not very often I'm so stressed I can't blog, then so busy I can't blog, and then so sick I can't blog; so I won't spend a lot of time here bitching about it. Especially because the crap-cycle seems winding down (unless "being so depressed I can't blog" is next, but I doubt it). I woke up Friday morning with a throat so sore I could barely eat or speak, two activities I terribly fond of. 

I felt like an ass missing work on the second day of the summer reading program (which I think has been going really well--thanks to everyone who asked!) but there was nothing to do but take some pain-killers and retreat to sleep. Kim was a champ and installed the AC right by our bed before he left for court. Which is where I've been for most of the time since (bed, not court), but between symptom flare-ups, I've had some fun, too.

Yesterday I guided Molly and Shelley around on a tour of Chicago animal shelters to look for a new kitty-baby for Molly. She lost a dearly beloved cat recently and wanted to see if she could connect with another. First we went to PAWS, which has some trig new digs. Molly didn't see her kitten anywhere, so we headed to the Anti-Cruelty Society (where Matt met his darling Vito). But the adoption process went sour, so we stopped for a beer and headed to where I got Moses and Dave--Chicago Animal Care & Control. 

Hardly anyone knows about this place, and it is bare bones. Cages on top of cages, hardly any volunteers, and as much focus on collecting strays as getting them adopted. But the quality of potential pets, of course (and of the mercy needed to adopt them) is not strain'd. After hanging out there for awhile, Molly found her new companion, a 4-month-old patchwork kitty nicknamed Mason. They're lucky to have each other.

Baby's Day Out?

What? I've got a bad sore throat, I feel bad about not blogging much, and it's Friday. Don't get on my case about just slapping up this Sex in the City before-they-were-stars slideshow. I can't do no better this afternoon.

Halfway To Exhaustedville

My jeans are soaked up to the knee, from the five-minute walk between el and library. (I shouldn't wear jeans to work all the time anyway, so serves me right.) The rain somehow smelled a bit like fried dough, bringing to mind ruined trips to Six Flags.

And...that's all I can post right now. I'm sure my inability to find the time to blog--or muster up the puny mental reserves to blog--bothers me immeasurably more than it bothers you. I had thought I'd write about my grandma's visit; instead, during our down-time, I found myself yawning in her face and suggesting we travel to Napburg.

I've also been neglecting my other blog, which is even more frustrating. Firstly because I'm trying to build up an audience over there. Secondly because not only am I not posting about pub quizzes, I'm not attending them.

Woe is Worree.

"Um, Maybe My Editors Can Tell You That?"

You're probably not supposed to fight on GoodReads, but I didn't start it! I mean, not exactly.