Fuck it. I can't take this shit too seriously. I am really loving my life right now and if I want to document it, it's my prerogative. I just think maybe I won't post as many pictures and maybe I won't involve innocent (or not so innocent) parties in my entries. So many effing people have blogs and I have been doing this longer than most. So until this prevents me from landing a job or makes someone punch me in the face, I will keep posting at my own discretion.
Right now, I am making an iTunes list for my impending housewarming party. It's this Friday and I am super pumped. It's hard to have fun at your own party, but some of the my favorite people in the whole wide world will be there, so how can I go wrong? The apartment is almost done. No more heavy lifting. Minimal shopping. Actually hoping to wrap up all the shopping tonight. Besides the food shopping that will take place on Thursday. I need curtains, H needs supplemental bedroom decor, the living room needs frames for the prints that I ordered two weeks ago and have yet to make a doorstep appearance... and that's about it. Last night, as I sat on my super comfortable couch watching my DV-Red programs on my 52 inch flat screen, I gave a sigh of complete contentment. Seriously, I have not been this happy/positive/excited in I can't remember how long. Maybe since first moving to Chicago? But that excitement wore off very quickly and I did not stay happy for long. That living situation wore me down rapidly. And I can't see that happening again anytime soon.
My weekend post will be pictureless. Yes, I took photos of my Friday night transgressions, but for right now, I want to keep them to myself. It was a nice little Friday. I left work early, payed $20 for garage parking since the super shitty weather forced me to drive to work. I let the dog out. Primped. LL came by to pick me up. We swung by and picked up Tad. Stopped at LL's so she could change and we could slam a Corona. Met Dra and her co-workers over at Dugans and I opened up a Long Island tab. Long Islands are fucking evil. Never again. I used to be able to swill up to 7 before feeling anything. Now it's two or three and BLAM! Blackout! I know I had a good time. I have the crossed-eyed pictures to prove it.
Saturday was spent shopping solo for apartment goods (and I did a bang-up job) and carrying said items up the stairs all alone. No joke, I weighed myself later that night and I had lost 4 pounds. Which I gained back and then some yesterday, I am sure. H came back from Vegas and we chilled for a bit. Then out for a bit. Night was not very memorable. One very cool thing happened, but I will keep that to myself as well. Yes. I know. I'm a tease.
Woke up pretty early to prepare for my mother's arrival. I took her and sista to see Blue Man Group and then we went to dinner at the restaurant below my apartment. They also accompanied me to Home Depot to by some plant life. It was a nice little Sunday.
It takes me so much longer to get to work now. Like an extra 20-30 minutes, depending on the trains and buses. Through my weeks of research, I have found that taking the Damen blue line south to the Washington red line stop and going back north a few stops to Grand is the fastest/cheapest. It also causes me to have to walk the furthest, but that's ok since it is increasingly nice outside. Come winter, fucking a, I may have to re-evaluate.
I always walk with my iPod firmly strapped to my bag. For my fellow iPod walkers... ever think that you are in a movie? Like you are walking along, and whatever is playing is your very own personal soundtrack? I notice this to be especially true when I am waiting for a train or walking in the tunnel that connects the red and blue line. Sometimes I will be in slo-mo. Every blink of my eye or flick of my hair is significant. I'll step into the red line-blue line tunnel and it's like any minute, something awesome in going to happen. Eye contact will a total stranger may lead to some sort of scandalous tryst. A mugger will push past me with some old ladies purse and I will trip the shit out of him and then step on his neck. A huge fireball might shoot down the tunnel and I will scream, in slow-motion, "FIRE!" and totally hit the floor while the flames pass over my head. Did I go a bit too far there? Yeah. I think so.
I totally realize I am a complete moron and I should keep these thoughts to myself.
Too late.