A slight change of plan...

Friends, as this year draws to a close I have made some decisions that pertain not only to my own life but to this blog as well.

As far as this blog is concerned the change is minor. I will still be writing periodically about my daily musings and goings on, but on top of that I shall also be using this as a creative outlet. I stumbled upon a book I was given back in junior year of highschool by my creative writing teacher, Ms. C. "A Writer's Book of Days" is the book and it gives you (the writer) short prompts and inspirations to begin writing and you set aside a time for yourself everyday to create something from those prompts. When I told my boyfriend about this idea he said "but why can't you just write?" A valid question. With a valid answer. I have been writing on and off since highschool and I used to be able to just sit and write out pages upon pages and I thought it was decent, but now I feel age and experience make me feel very inadequate as a writer. So, I sit down to write and knock out a page or two and then I feel it's all crap and ultimately end up throwing it out. I have all of these ideas but I'm having trouble getting them out of my head and onto the page, so I feel that setting aside 30 minutes (minimum) a day to write everyday and having a small sentence to guide me may help me regain the confidence of my youth. "What does this have to do with us?" you're probably wondering. Well, dear friends, I have decided that I shall be posting whatever comes out of these prompts here. Don't worry, I won't be linking all of the posts to Facebook and other social networking sites. Just the ones I feel deserve a good read. You are always more than welcome to stop by any time and read, if you like. I can't guarantee that all of them will hold any weight, but this is an adventure after all.

As far as my life is concerned, well, I have decided to undergo another adventure and pick up another hobby (on top of the daily writing). With the coming of the new year I have become determined to take better care of myself. I'm going to start working out, mostly at home for now but you never know maybe I'll grow a pair and start running outside. To help me on this journey I had my boyfriend buy me some workout gear as a Christmas present, which (I'm hoping) will guilt me into working out everyday, or almost everyday. I have four months until we go to Puerto Rico and I am determined to look like should actually be wearing a bikini. The big change will be my sobriety. For the entire month of January, friends, I will not be consuming any "adult beverages". I'm going to go out with a bang on New Year's Eve and then for the 30 or so days after I will be the DD. I will be the pinnacle of sobriety!

This will be a journey into my soul. This will be an interesting 30 days. I'm determined to get into shape, not only physically but mentally as well. I'm armed with my running shoes, a fancy new Nike training app on my phone, a new 'do, a kindle loaded with the classics (The Last of the Mohicans, Black Beauty, Jane Eyre, A Tale of Two Cities, the Lord of the Rings, etc., etc., etc.), a new notebook and pen, and an iron will.
So there it is, friends. I hope you'll stick around. 

My one regret

Dear friends, I am sorry for being MIA these past few weeks. I had meant to write a Thanksgiving post but once I started I felt like it was crap so I promptly deleted it. It was all downhill from there really. I went to, what I call, "my dark place", everyone knows what I'm talking about. That place you go to when you have too much time on your hands and you start dwelling on things that you ultimately can't change in the here and now.
For me, it pertains to a certain place and a certain time spent there. Although good things did come out of my time spent there I still can't help but raise a glass and say "to Columbia College Chicago, my one regret." Like I said great things happened while I was there. I have amazing friends that I met while living in the dorms. I found the greatest love a girl could ask for there in those cramped rooms and hallways and yet I came out of that place more mixed up then when I went in.
When I first arrived in the city I was certain of what I wanted to do; I was going to wait tables and pursue the stage. After I graduated that dream slowly faded to the background where it became "do whatever it takes to survive". Now, almost three years after graduation and I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. At this point it's not even, "what do I want to do that will make me the happiest", even though I'm trying to my damnedest to work happiness into the equation, now it's "what can I do to make enough money to pay back my 100,000$ + loans". That's right friends I said $100,000+!
God, that feels good to finally say out loud. I have been carrying this around for a long while and the entire time I have been bearing the burden, because it is my fight. It's my fault. I was the one who insisted that I move to this city and go to that school, and you try to tell yourself that you're not the only one. I know of a quite a few people who have graduated from Columbia who are now working at Blockbuster, Starbucks, AMC, doing anything to make sure you have food in the fridge. So the next question is: what do you do?
I have had many "ideas", hair-brained as they are, I've pretty much run the gamet of "pay back loan" ideas. Everything just short of selling my body (damn those morals) and I still can't find it. I'm never going to write the next great American novel. I'm never going to star in that new Tony award wining show (at least not in the next ten years). I'm never going to be able to pay back these loans making 4.95 an hour on top of the tips I'm making. So, I had a thought...
For those of you who don't know I work next to a law school which is where I got the idea of getting my paralegal certification, which is what I'm doing now at a community college near the house. But what if I took it a step further? What if I bit the bullet and went to law school? I'm enjoying my classes, for the most part, and after working next to a law school for so many years I think I may actually be able to do it. I am only human after all and when I get these thoughts in my head I quickly think that I'm not good enough, not smart enough; but I see some of these people who have made it into law school and I'm just as smart as them, when I apply myself. It would mean taking out more loans, yes, but while I was in school I wouldn't have to worry about getting those calls saying that I'm late making a payment, a fact that I know even before they call, because it would put my loans into deferment. It would mean long nights and heavy books. But it would also mean that once I got out I would, more than likely, be able to find a job where I could provide for myself. I've heard that the attorney job market isn't the best right now, but I would be finished in three to four years and a lot can happen in that time.
For the first time I think I've found something that I actually enjoy doing and would be able to do well, one professor from said law school next door said that she could see me up in front of a jury. I should thank her because she is the reason I'm even considering this in the first place. Is it crazy? Yes. But for the first time I can think of the future and not be afraid.

It's cold in the city

Well, Chicagoans, winter is indeed upon us. I know because my mom text me this morning at nine to tell me so. 

"Bundle up, it's going to be cold and windy by you today"

What? Cold and windy you say? In Chicago? Say it ain't so, Ma? I jest. It truly is cold here. It's the deceiving type of cold though. 

You wake up in the morning with the sunlight streaming through your window. You walk through the living room to see the cat happily laying in the sun and he does that little stretch and roll which means "look how cute I am! PET ME!" So you end up spending five minutes or so lying in the sun petting the cat with a little smile on your face thinking "what a great day". You go into the kitchen and start to make your morning cup of coffee and even pour yourself a bowl of cereal, go ahead, be adventurous it's a beautiful day outside! You pour yourself that perfect cup of coffee (just enough sugar and that perfect splash of cream; not like those bitches down at Dunkin Donuts do it.. "sugar and just a little bit of cream." You end up drinking coffee flavored milk, ick)  and that's when you know for sure that this is going to be THE day. Today you'll be walking with that extra pep in your step, you'll grab the bull by the horns, you'll...wait a second...what is that noise? No...it can't be. Ahhh, but you live in Chicago and you will never ever forget this sound. 

That is the sound of the wind picking up and what little leaves are left on the trees rustling together. Then  your windows start to rattle, because you live in a building that was erected in the 1930's and even though they are beautiful you're pretty sure that these are those original windows. Through the wavy glass of one window you see it. The trees violently swaying to and fro, thrashing even, trees smacking into other trees. "Alright," you say to yourself "it's a little windy out, the sun is still shining and there's not a cloud in the sky." And then you do it. Coffee cup in hand you unlock the back door and the wind throws the door open and the chill from outside penetrates your apartment. You manage to fight the wind and close the back door. You are determined to not let this ruin your perfect day, so you decided to continue on with your usual routine. 

You shower and pick something to wear. You recently bought a new pair of jeggings those would look nice...long sleeves? Where did all of your long sleeve shirts go? Two? You have two long sleeve shirts?? You live in Chicago, how is this possible? No matter. Wear the white one. Ok. Great. Now you dry your hair and it looks perfect, you've never seen your hair look so good! It must be that new heat protectant you've been using. Then you put on some makeup. Hot damn! You look amazing! The hair...the face...the clothes, ahh yes a perfect day! Now you get your "winter" coat out of the closet and grab a scarf. Gloves? You should probably wear gloves. Where the fuck are the gloves? Sock drawer...you're sure there's a pair in the sock drawer and there is. Then you remember that you can't use your iphone with gloves on. Stupid fucking touch screen! How am I supposed to keep my hands warm and change songs at the same time?!? You find that pair of fingerless gloves hidden in the back of the drawer, these will have to do, even though your fingers are not protected from the elements, which is more important? Fingers or skipping that Ke$ha song you bought when you were drunk? Coat, scarf, gloves...hat? A hat? Shit...you suddenly flashback to last winter and you see yourself "thinking" you put your hat in your purse and, oh no, you miss the purse and your hat lands in the slushy snow mess outside of Hamburger Mary's! NOOOOOOOOOO! Your poor little ears will be so cold. You glance at the clock, "Shit." you say to no one in particular. You're running late. You must leave the house now!!

You run down the front stairs and pause at the front door, brace yourself now, the first chill is always the worst. You open the door and wind whips around your body. Not so bad, alright, now just 15 minutes until you're at the train. The wind picks up as you cross Clark street and your perfect hair is now in your perfect face, sticking to your lips. You should know better than to put chapstick on before you go outside in the windy city. Your pushing against the wind, but it's putting up a good fight, almost knocking you to the ground a few times. You're almost there now you can see the train through the perfect hair in your face. If you had a hat you wouldn't be having this problem. You're in the train vestibule and about to go through the turn style, when you hear it...another sound that you know so well...

The train. Your train. Passing right above you. You can do this! You can make it! Quickly now! Through the turn style and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. You make it to the platform and run to the first car you see...NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! The doors are closed and the train is pulling away...fuck. You wait under the heat lamps, you're still freezing. Another train should be here soon, so says the iphone. And soon enough you are on the red line heading to work. You settle in, turn on your kindle and start to read that book that you love. You think you hear someone's phone ringing...but it's not stopping. You lift your eyes from your book and hone in on that asshole who decided he wants the entire train to know what he's listening to! WHY? Just tune him out. Just another 25 minutes. Maybe he'll get off before you. No such luck, he gets off at Jackson, same as you. 

You work your shift and the only thing that makes this messed up perfect day better is seeing your regulars who laugh with you about the weather and you swap winter horror stories. You tell them the one about the hat. After your shift is over it's time to get back on the dreaded red line. You get to the platform and hear that guy who raps...he's not very good, but he always has a crowd. Thankfully, a train comes quickly. The sun has gone down now and it's ten degrees colder then when you left earlier, but the wind has subsided. Why do you live here? It's freezing cold...in NOVEMBER. You have to walk everywhere in the cold. What's going to happen to you when there's snow on the ground and, somehow, the slush saturates your boots to the point where your socks are wet?

You see the playground! You're almost there. If you run you could make this light. You pick up the pace and miss the light. No matter, you're almost home, you could cry you're so happy. You make it across the street and up the stairs. Aaaaaa...home. 

You take off your coat and scarf and lay them over the chair. You peek in the kitchen to see your boyfriend opening up a bottle of your favorite wine...and he has two glasses. And you're reminded of why you do live here and why you do actually like winter. 

Winter is the time for red wine and watching three movies in one night. Winter is the time for staying in bed an extra five minutes because it's just so warm under the blankets. Winter is the time for beating video games in two days, because there's nothing else to do. Winter is the time for self evaluation and getting back to you. Winter is...

My mother and the accidentally waxed kitty

Disclaimer: The author of this blog has been given permission by the persons involved in the events written about therein and may not be held liable for any damages. No animals were harmed during these events. (aren't you glad I'm getting my paralegal certificate, Ma?)

My mom called me a few days ago, you will come to find that this is a recurring theme here. My mom calls me everyday actually, but on this day...I'll try to recreate what happened to the best of my knowledge. You can't write this stuff...these sort of things really do happen to my mom. And it all starts with my mom asking; 

"Can I tell you about my waxing adventure?"

Now, I wasn't sure I really wanted to hear about my mom's "waxing adventure" but she continued anyway.

So, this morning I decided I was going to wax my face because I'm going to see your brother this weekend and well, it just needed to be done. So I use the Nad's strips, right? You know, Nad's

"ah,  Ma, I know what Na...

Anyway, usually they have those smaller strips the ones that you can actually use on your face. But, OFCOURSE, when I go they're out, so I buy the bigger ones that you can use on your legs. You can cut them into smaller strips to use on your face. I get home and I go into the bathroom and I rub the two strips together...ya know, you rub and rub and rub and you make it all warm like and then you peel the two pieces apart. Well, I decided I wasn't going to cut the bigger strips into smaller strips I just wasn't going to put the whole frigging thing on my face. I lay one strip on the bathroom counter with the sticky side up...

Before I go on I want you to know that where this story is about to go I was not expecting. I was expecting some crazy story about my mom's face breaking out in hives or her ripping some of her epidermis off before she went to see my brother for the weekend. 

I'm about to put the first strip on my face when the cat walks in and jumps up onto the counter and I'm like "Willow, now don't step on that it's sticky", so she steps over it with her front paws and steps right in the thing with her back paw. She freaks out and starts flinging her foot, flinging it like that...

At this point she actually starts flinging her arm like she's trying to get something sticky off of her hand, I know this because this is simply just what my mom does. She thinks that you can see her and her surroundings while you're on the phone. Like the time she took a a drive to look at Christmas lights and she said "Oh, Emmy, you see that one...oooooo....so pretty...". 

She's flinging it and flinging it and it's not coming off and she finally kinda jumps and I grab her and get it off of her foot, but she must have jumped or something...because now it's on her midsection! And she's running around the house with this wax strip on her mid section and she's flipping out and I'm trying to catch her! So, finally she just kinda sits on the kitchen table and she looks at me like "this isn't so bad, we'll just live this here".  Every time I got near her she would kinda swat at me...but it's on her midsection...and she was just fixed...so it's on her scar...and it's still tender. Oh, my poor baby. 

oh...my...god...

I put a blanket in her carrier and kinda gently get her in the carrier and I take her to the vet. So, when we get there I don't really see any cars in the drive way so I'm kinda freaking out. "What if they're not open...what do I do", right? So I walk in and there are three people in the office. The secretary, the vet's assistant and an elderly lady with her cat. I'm just standing there...and then the assistant asks me what she can do for me today. So, I just go into the whole thing. Kinda talking over the secretary because the other woman was behind her and the old lady in front of me. I'm telling them all about the waxing and then I get to the part about how she got it stuck to her midsection and all three ladies gasp...they all go "Ohhh..."

Well, yah, ma...they're probably thinking you're this cruel cat owner...

I finish the story and the assistant says "ok, well we'll bring her back and see what we can do".  I hand them Willow and I hear them as they walk away say, "oh, Willow, your mama just wanted get pretty and you got all in the middle".  They got the wax strip off...but she still has this little bit of wax on her midsection that I can't get off...but she seems ok. Emmy, this all happened before 9:30 in the morning. 

....

So, there you have it folks....my mom accidentally waxed her cat. This cat must have nerves of steel or she's just as much of a free spirit as my mother...or she wouldn't be able to live with her, I know I couldn't. Love you, mama. 

The Wilson Red Line Stop

I have lived in this city for six years.

Which means I have been pan handled on numerous occasions, I've seen everything from sad to "maybe this person really does need money". I've also seen the creative...for example, Shakespeare guy down by Columbia College who only speaks in language of Shakespeare's day, only once did I see him break character.

Shakespeare man: Good morrow, sweet lady how are thou?

Me: I'm doing alright, how are you?

Shakespeare man: I'm fucking cold.

He had a schtick and I'm pretty sure you can still find him rattling off prose near Columbia's theatre building. But, the most creative pan handler I have seen to date would have to go to the woman who approached a classmate and I at Truman College yesterday. This woman approached us and asked if she could ask us a question. I know what's coming and my friend, even though she has just moved here from the U.P., I'm sure knows what's happening as well.

Woman: Good afternoon, ladies. How are ya'll...can I ask you a question.

Us: umm...I guess....

Woman: Now, I was in the hospital last week and they gave me one of those enemas, ya know, to move my bowels. Now I haven't gone to the bathroom in 62 days!! Now I'm just looking for a little change to get myself another enema...do you think you can help me out?

My classmate: umm I don't carry any cash on me, sorry.

Me: Sorry I got nothing. Good luck with that though.

AN ENEMA?!? She asked us for change to go buy an enema! I can't make this up! The area surrounding the Wilson Red Line is a strange place.