Tilly Chic(ago)

One

2009-10-04T13:34:00.000-05:00

One year ago today, I married my most favorite person in the whole entire galaxy. He is mine. And I am his. Forever and a day.

This weekend we celebrated with special evenings dining out (a rare occasion since the budget cuts of '09), a brunch at our neighborhood fave, a cool and wet fall drive out of the city, a full moon, a glass of bubbly, a tub, a sunrise hike in Central Illinois, an adventure exploring waterfalls, creeks, bluffs, and quarries, an adorable organic festival in the middle of nowhere, a long sunny drive back into the city, a toast filled with mini-moon wine, a playlist of our wedding songs, and even a dance on the roof in the crisp autumn air. We ended the night with our usual Sunday routine: pizza and a movie. Oh, and our wedding cake. Our delicious--we are SO eating the whole rest of that thing--wedding cake. In a word: lovely.

This year has brought much joy, many travels, marked growth and change, greater understanding, continued solidarity, household challenges, new ideas, bold strength, tragic moves, unending unity, new uncertainties, and much, much more. In spite, and because, of it all, I have fallen more in love with my husband. All I need is his hand in mine for the rest of my days. I am forever grateful. Forever and for always.

Mr. & Mrs. Fiji

2008-11-14T13:04:00.001-06:00

It's official.

Friends listen to "Endless Love" in the dark all the time

2008-06-24T10:06:00.003-05:00

I know that many slash most of you do not partake in the network soul mate matching that is The Bachelor/The Bachelorette, and for that I am still truly appalled, but something on last night's episode has disturbed my soul and I am unsure of how to proceed...in the LIVING of my LIFE. So, I thought I would be your very own life-ruiner and share. I'm nice like that.

So, it went a little like this...DeAnna goes on the home dates (where she visits the boys parents and stuff) and one of the dudes (who, if we're being honest, I think enjoys the boys a little more than he realizes, if you are picking up what I'm throwing down) has a kid. No biggie. But the dude, Jason, kisses his kid. No biggie. But he kisses him ON THE LIPS. Like, lips to lips. Kinda creepy. I mean, the kid is 4 or something, so whatever. FINE. DEWAI. But then, when they were at his parent's house and getting ready to leave, the whole ENTIRE family started like BAWLING. It made me very, very uncomfortable, even THROUGH the TV! I mean, that's great that they are all so close and everything and clearly they care about each other but COME ON. Get it TOGETHER here people. You are on network TELEVISION. But that is not even the awkwardest part!! (If you can even believe it!) When they were saying goodbye, the mom kissed the dude (competing for The Bachelorette's heart) ON THE LIPS. Mother-30 YEAR OLD Son mouth to mouth kisses are TOTALLY INAPPROPRIATE. I mean, is DeAnna seriously falling in love with a man that kisses his mother ON THE MOUTH? What's next? Slipping a little TONGUE to grandma. I feel weird inside.

And then...

2008-06-17T16:39:00.004-05:00

Want to hear something fun and awk? OK THEN. My boss just came into my office as I was writing in BOLD print on my calendar (for next Thursday!): "LAST DAY!!!! WOOHOO!!!!" Which he didn't appear to find too amusing. Then he informed me that we did NOT get funding on the first grant that we applied for. SUCK. And THEN he told me that my office would be empty all summer and that I was more than welcome to COME IN and WORK whenever I wanted to!! Yippee. Who DOESN'T want to work for FREE?! I mean, GEE WHIZ. And then he casually added that my phone will be turned off, so I will need to use my celly. Um, hello? IDC! I AM NOT COMING BACK!! Who does he think I AM? I don't love working THAT MUCH slash AT ALL.

So that happened.

Anyway, tomorrow I go home--sweet relaxation station home--to see the munchkins and play in the sand and get a tan and maybe plan my wedding and stuff. So that should be awesome to infinity. AND THEN Fiji is throwing my a pre-birthday party when I get back. OMG. I am celebrating my 30th year BEFORE I even turn 30! INSANO.

Because EVERYONE loves to read about someone else's dream

2008-06-16T11:16:00.006-05:00

Last night I dreamt that I was taking a marathon prep class (like with desks and homework and crap) and Jessica Alba was one of my classmates. It probably goes without saying, but she and I became best friends. We were both planning our weddings and she was pregnant with twins (I was not). She was trying desperately to convince me that running a marathon was good for the twins' development, and apparently I was being a real stick-in-the-mud about the whole thing. Because clearly I CARED about her well-being and that of her unborn children. Anyway, this just goes to show how much reading Us Weekly at the airport can infiltrate your BRAIN. And also completely confuse you! I had it all mixed up! She already GOT married and had ONE child named Humor or something. No, no. Honor. Her child's name is Honor. And Angie's the one with twins! GAH. Silly dreaming Tilly. (Whoa.) (Guess I should've titled this one LAME ALERT.)

Wednesday Night: Play by Play (whoa PUN)(You will understand later)

2008-06-12T10:00:00.005-05:00

Whewee! Last night was pretty eventful, if I don't say so myself. Which is a saying I never really understand because HELLO, you just SAID IT. Anyway. I met up with PhotoFace to look at pretty paper at the Paper Source and I just love that place SO much. Except last night, not so much. There were like 50 brides there picking out papers and everyone seemed to actually KNOW what they were doing and stuff and like HAVE A PLAN. Which was a little (slash a TON) intimidating because we were wandering around picking up random stickers and packs of paper and being all overwhelmed and stuff.

Then Photoface came up with the GENIUS idea to go get a beer and talk this through a bit. Did I mention she is a genius? Because she is. So on our stroll to get a well-needed and well-deserved drinky, we decided to stop in the Queen of All Shoe Stores and I kinda think I maybe kinda might've found my shoes. Like, my wedding shoes. Uh huh. Yep. So that happened. She basically made me buy them by carrying them around the whole time and talking about how awesome and perfect they are, but I'm glad she did. I have been searching and searching for these particular shoes in my head that I am growing more and more convinced do not exist (a pretty green, flat, peep-toe with a flower or something ladylike--because I am a LADY). SO. They are not green and they are not peep-toe, but they are definitely unique and pretty and they were on sale for $35. Done and DON.

THEN. We finally made it to the drinking hole and pretty much came up with an ENTIRE NEW INVITATION IDEA. The CAPS are totally and completely necessary because that is how exciting it was and still is. THEN I get a call from a little fairy godfather who offers me 4 Cubs tickets for the game that was starting in about an hour and I actually debated whether or not I should take them for about 17.7 seconds and then I said to myself, "SELF you are an IDIOT. Take the tickets RIGHT NOW." So I did and then we went and then it was awesome and then the boys met up with us after their yoga retreat and then I had a kosher dog the size of my left arm and it was delicious and then we won and then we sang and danced to the Cubs song and then we went home.

True double true.
The end.

p.s. Please excuse the blatant tense issues in this post. I mean, you are probably pretty used to it from me by now, but still. Sorry.

Maryjuhwahna Into Your Brain

2008-06-10T10:14:00.002-05:00

After weeks of not drinking regular coffee (a.k.a. devil juice), I had some this morning because I have not been able to "wake up" since Saturday morning. Seriously. Not sure what is going on in this crazy lady body of mine, but I'm barely living. It's weird but it's my life. Anyway, the caffeine and I are now like mortal enemies. We used to be bestests, but now I'd say we're haters. I feel like a jittery mess and I can't quite seem to focus on any one thing for more than two seconds. Which is ideal when you are trying to write a research paper. No, really. It's pretty awesome.

In other news, I have found several interesting jobs to apply to except that I haven't been able to bring myself to apply to any of them. IDK (my BFF Rose) why, but it's like something is preventing me from taking any action. And when I say "something" I most likely mean "ME." Maybe it's that lurking fear of eventually hating yet another job. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? Why can't I just find something in my field that I enjoy? I don't think I've ever really truly enjoyed any of the jobs that I have held. Which is a LOT. I mean, maybe I liked my job as a ticket scanner at the base of Breckenridge mountain. MAYBE. I think the only reason that job was slightly manageable was because I was probably stoned the whole time. And when I say "probably" I mean "definitely." So there's THAT.

Someone pass the reefer.

So this one time, I freaked out...

2008-06-05T16:36:00.004-05:00

And then I took a mental health day. Because that is what you do when you are very nearly almost unemployed. It's just what NORMAL people do. Like me. Me and normal people are like ONE AND THE SAME.

I counted and I have 11 days left here. 11 life-ruining, soul-sucking, bone-crushing days. Eleven. What with all the vacation days I plan to take between now and June 30. I really should look into a job that is not dependent on fickle little grants and such. But then again, where's the adventure in that?! Missing I tell ya. MISSING.

So, yeah. Instead of viewing this as a period of "unemployment," I'm opting for "summer break." Yep. I'm on summer break. Jealous? I know I would be, if only I could stop FREAKING OUT about it. I just don't know how to be relaxed and calm about not having a job. I don't know what that is. I don't know what that even means. I don't know how NOT to work. Oh yeah, and that whole pay check thing. THAT. My concern is clearly displayed in the fact that I have applied to a whopping ONE job. Yup. I am really on top of this finding a new job thing. However, I do have the age-old excuse that I am in school. Granted it's one class, once a week but WHATEVER. Who's counting?

Now, who wants to go to the beach like every day next month?

2008-06-04T08:45:00.002-05:00

Yessssssssssssssssss.

BrawlFest2K8

2008-05-29T12:39:00.004-05:00

Last night the Feej and I went to the Cubs game and sat several rows (and one section, FINE) behind home plate. It was pretty awesome. Except for the fact that as Fiji noted there was "too much traffic" and oh yeah, the fact that we almost got into a BRAWL! True story. So, as soon as we settled into our third row aisle seats (hi, braggart) and the game got underway (wow, I should really look into a career as a sportscaster!), we realized that something was awry. What may or may not have tipped us off was the dude behind us cheering LOUDLY and clapping EVEN LOUDER for the Dodgers. Not the Cubs. Now, being a Dodger fan (or any other team's fan) in and of itself is not a problem. NOT AT ALL. What was the problem was the annoying and obnoxious ATTITUDE that went along with this particular Dodger fan. After I had had the appropriate fill of my Old Style Tall Boy, I did not try so hard to contain my annoyance with dude and his Dodger love. Then things really came to a head when dude, in his flamboyant and unnecessarily LARGE clapping movements, knocked Fiji on the back of the head. And the following exchange slash BRAWL occurred:

Fiji (to dude, calmly but firmly): Hey man, watch it.
Dude (FLIPPING OUT): WHAT? Watch WHAT?!!
Fiji: You just knocked the back of my head.
Dude: NO I DID NOT. I DIDN'T TOUCH YOU.
(Seriously, he was yelling. TOTALLY unnecessary. Like I should talk.)
Fiji: Yes. Yes, you did. You knocked it. Just watch the back of my head.
(Fiji is pretty much over it at this point and back to watching THE GAME.)
Dude: YOU WATCH THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD.
Tilly (turning around and stifling laughter): That doesn't even MAKE SENSE.
Dude is speechless.
Tilly: Dude, relax.
Dude: TELL YOUR HOMEBOY TO RELAX.
Tilly: Uhh, I think he is. Thanks. Look, it's fine. Don't worry about it. (I SO wanted to say DEWAI.)

The end. (Sorta.)

And then the CUBS WON in the 10th inning.

The end. (For reals.)

A Whole Bunch of Nothing

2008-05-28T14:01:00.002-05:00

I am having one of those days where I just want SO BADLY to PUNCH someone in the NECK. But not really. The past couple of days I've been getting so incredibly frustrated about one thing or another that I find myself TENSING UP MY ENTIRE BODY and then releasing. Like a toddler. And OMG it really works. Kinda. I mean, I haven't punched anyone in the neck yet, so SUCCESS! Also, last night I tried to do a little mock-up for the text of our invitations that I have somehow agreed to DO MYSELF. Um, hello WORST IDEA EVER. I am so not cut out for this. I can barely even write my own name without getting ink ALL OVER, let alone do whatever making your own wedding invitations entails. (Clearly I don't even know WHAT THAT IS. I am so screwed.) But I am kinda attached to the whole concept of our invites and after hours of searching and finding very pretty, very expensive invitations by REAL DESIGNERS and stuff, they still don't offer what we are looking for. SO. There's THAT.

Anyway. GAH. I am doing the tensing thing again!

But, this weekend was lovely and sunshiney and drunky and I saw the love-of-my-life slash Jenny Lewis. I just love her so much. We met up with some friends slash strangers afterwards and I was pretty much spilling my girl-love (and beers) all over those poor people. So that was nice.

ALSO, I tried on my dress again last week and holy hell I just love it SO much. Like, A LOT. And that makes me feel like such a girl (not that there's anything wrong with that), you know. PhotoFace took pictures of me and I didn't even hate them! Granted, I think the sales lady was a little put off when PhotoFace made me like sprawl across her desk next to the window so we could get a glimpse of me AND the skyline, but then I was all "DEWAI* lady, just DEWAI."

The end.

*Don't Even Worry About It. You would not even imagine how much I use this word in normal conversations. AWK.

He Almost Made it on Broadway

2008-05-22T12:59:00.004-05:00

Yesterday as I sat in the dentist's chair with my mouth wide open and the Dental Cleaner Lady scraping off the plaque, I heard someone singing in the next room over. Like, to Bette Midler or whatever craptastic musak they had playing. And since I wear my emotions on my face, the Dental Cleaner Lady must've seen my shock and confusion because we had the following exchange:

Dental Cleaner Lady: He [dentist] sings.
Me: Uhhh?
DCL: Yeah. Sings.
Me: Like, all the time?
DCL: Yep. Like ALL THE TIME.
Me: Wow. I, uh...
DCL: And sometimes dances.

At this point she had to remove the sharp tool from my mouth because we were both laughing so hard, my gums and teeth were in danger. You know how sometimes you are laughing so hard and then finally you kinda get it together and so does the other person but then one of you kinda chuckles and then all is lost once again? Yeah. It was like that. But then she assured me that he probably wouldn't sing during my exam. You know, since this was the first time we were meeting and all.

Inspired

2008-05-21T09:53:00.005-05:00

Since I'm pretty much obsessed with wedding blogs now, I thought I would share my own "inspiration board."

I can't find all the links where I found these images, so I hope no one tries to sue me or kill me or punch me in the face or anything. Because OUCH. Also, it's not as "professional" looking as most but WHATEVER. It's MY inspiration, right? RIGHT.

I Love Evens

2008-05-16T12:58:00.004-05:00

When I first started dating Fiji, I never made any attempt to hide my vast number or quirks or idiosyncrasies. Hell, on our first date I said (OUTLOUD) something along the lines, "I can drink a lot. Like A LOT. Hope you can handle it." Um, hello BITCH. Gee whiz. Try to keep that on the DL...at least until the third date or something. Nope. Not me. Just wanted to lay it all out there. Really show him who I am. And apparently that is a serious braggart of a boozehound.

Anyway, one of my many odd "qualities," if you can call them that, is that I am strangely attached to even numbers. And the number 17. But even numbers I just love so much. I just do. I set my alarms on even numbers and get giddy when my purchases total an even number, and even better if there is some sort of pattern to the even numbers. And I LOVE the last 4 digits of my phone number--ALL EVEN. I also set the stereo volume to even numbers, even when it is not the preferred decibel level at the moment. Look, IDK. It is what it is. My point is that when I first moved in with the Feej, he (unbeknownst to me) changed his alarm to ALSO be an even number. In addition, we listen to this Native American music every night as we are going to sleep. And once I moved in he started setting the volume at even numbers! Can you even believe that?!! It took me several months to realize it (THAT is how tight-lipped this man is. Clearly that is one major difference between us. HELLO BLOG.) and when I did I almost died of love, if that would be possible. (If it is possible, that totally blows.)

So. It's not like this big sacrifice he made for me or anything. I am sure he enjoys the music just the same and wakes up just fine (actually, he doesn't even NEED an alarm...which is another post entirely). But really, it was just the fact that he even thought of that, knowing that it would make me happy. It's just those little things, you know?

I'm NOT a Hippie...Anymore.

2008-05-15T13:13:00.000-05:00

I just received an email from a colleague signed:

Peace,
[redacted]

Uhhhh...okay?

2008-05-13T15:53:00.002-05:00

I'm off the black sludge, folks. I did it! I've already started looking down (very condescendingly in fact) upon those silly coffee drinkers. Don't you even know what that does to your slash my teeth?! It turns them a delectable yellowish-brown. It DOES. And that is quite unpleasant.

In other news, I took a brief nap at my desk the other day. It lasted 8 minutes, to be exact. I am sure it had nothing to do with my lack of the black sludge devil. I wonder if the poor souls across the street even noticed. I don't know why I call them poor souls, but I bet they are. Sometimes when I talk on the phone I look out the window and stare across the street. One time I think I made eye contact with this one dude straight across the way. It made me uncomfortable.

I've had chapped lips for almost a week. It's to the point where there are cracks in the corners of my lips/mouth. HATE. Also, it hurts to laugh or smile big or eat an apple. So I've had to put a stop to those activities for the moment (except the apple eating). That is why you may have noticed a melancholy undertone here today. Did you even notice that?

Also, I missed The Hills finale AND The Bachelor final rose ceremony slash the one where the Brit makes the biggest mistake of his life and proposes to either the actress or the cold-hearted snake. Rubbish.

We're Practically AMISH

2008-05-09T13:16:00.002-05:00

So, remember that time, uh, about a week ago or so when I was talking about how our TV is STILL broken? Well I forgot to mention that since the TV died, I've been using a projector in emergency situations to watch my shows (i.e. The Bachelor (DUH), The Hills, Greys Anatomy (SHUT YOUR MOUTH)). Normal people watch TV bring projected onto their living room walls all the time. Well, Sunday evening rolls around and I'd had a hectic day of nursing a decently destructive hangover by drinking bloody's and mimosa's on the roof. AND celebrating the Feej's birth by eating the breakfast that he so graciously cooked for us ON THE GRILL. He is a magician. Anyway, after that stress of a day (I even got a little sunburned!), I plopped down onto the couch to get my fix of some HGTV or something. Well, no sooner had I turned it on when BAM! The light bulb in the projector BLEW UP! Like EXPLODED with smoke and everything! I couldn't believe this was happening to me. Why OH WHY was I being prevented from gorging on some good, old American television?!! WHY. Now I've REALLY been without TV for, um, a LONG ASS TIME. I can't even remember the last time I decided to sloth it up and just picked up the remote and turned on the television like a NORMAL AMERICAN CITIZEN. Every day this week I have taken to nagging the crap out of Fiji in order to get this shit fixed up. I just can't take it anymore. I mean, last weekend was one thing, what with all the warm and sunny weather. What will happen if it RAINS?!! Oh dear god someone help me.

Update: The In-Laws Edition

2008-05-08T16:11:00.001-05:00

My mom and Fiji's mom shared lunch. As in, they SHARED a sandwich.

Discuss.

Raw and The In-Laws

2008-05-07T15:41:00.005-05:00

So here we are, Raw Food Day Two and I am still alive. AND well. I don't even have a coffee-withdrawal headache today! Man, I should pick up some other ridiculously addictive habit and then quit cold turkey and laugh in the face of medicine and addiction researchers (hi boss). Or not. That sounds exhausting.

Anyway, the big news of the day (to me) is this: The Tilly's and the Fiji's are MEETING! Each other! Tomorrow! WITHOUT the most important people in the equation: FIJI and ME! See, at first I kinda (slash totally completely 100%) freaked out because HELLO! We were planning this whole weekend introduction thing over Memorial Day up at the cottage and everything. It was all set. Or so I thought. I am not very rational when plans change so abruptly without me even knowing! Did they not think to CONSULT US!?! Maybe run it BY US? Just to, you know, make sure it was OKAY? No, no they did not. Apparently my Mom thinks they're "all adults" or some shit like that. WHATEVER. (I think I had my first, but it's ALL ABOUT ME moment right then. PHEW. Glad that's over.) Anyway, since the Fiji's are going to be DRIVING BY, they figured YOU KNOW WHY NOT! LET'S STOP AND MEET MY FUTURE DAUGHTER IN LAWS PARENTS! THAT SOUNDS FUN! Except, they probably weren't yelling. Or freaking out or anything. Nope, that would be me.

But then I realized, in the midst of my panic attack freak out sesh...this is GENIUS. Why didn't I think of this!!?! I mean, the deed (so to speak) will be done with little to NO stress on me or the Feej. It's not a whole WEEKEND event, it's just a quick hellohowareyounicetomeetyoutillysgreatwelovefiji kinda thing. No pressure! It'll be done in no time, no time at all. And then it will be OVER. No anxiety whatsoever. Finito. Yesssssssssssssss.

So that's about to happen.

p.s. Sorry about the excessive and inexcusable amount of CAPS and !!!! I have issues OKAY!!?!

Spring Cleaning: Innards Style

2008-05-06T13:27:00.007-05:00

As I think I've mentioned one or two or a million times, Fiji is healthy. Like, he enjoys eating seaweed and making his own RAW crackers healthy. And while I like to think (slash pretend) that I am healthy too, this is one (of many) area (s) where he totally dominates me. (Wait, that came out weird.) Anyway. A while back, pre-Fiji in fact, I attempted the Master Cleanse. Attempted and failed miserably after, um, three measly weasly days. Skip forward a month and that is when Fiji and I first started the intense train staring that eventually let to our courtship and yada yada you know the rest. BUT, little did I know that during these eye-sexing-sesh's he was actually ON the Master Cleanse at that VERY MOMENT. He was drinking the juice and cleaning out his system!! (That's amazing! I'm not even mad!)

So, my point here is this: we are similar, yet different. He did the Master Cleanse for 21 days. I did it for 3. WHATEVER. But we both still TRIED it. That's gotta mean something right? My REAL point is that today was the start of our various cleanses. He is going at it aggressively and doing the 'ol MC once again. I, on the other hand, who enjoy whole foods and such, am going for a diet consisting of raw foods. As in fruits and veggies. And one day in I want to die. No, no. Not really. But it's Day 1 no caffeine and therefore say hello to a little thing I like to call the DEATH HEAD. But FINE. I'm already planning on ways I can convince him that I could do raw for breakfast and lunch and then have a regular dinner of WHATEVER I WANT. Except I would tell him that it would be a "Sensible Dinner." But really it would. Because as much as I love me some chips and french onion dip and mass quantities of root beer by the barrel, I do enjoy eating healthy. Mainly because it staves off the GUILT that creeps into my brain and takes over after I finish off the rest of a large pizza. (I mean HALF!)

Whoa. My grumbling tummy must be eating my brains.

I have issues. Big ones.

2008-05-01T11:59:00.004-05:00

I have experienced several different situations in the past week that have caused me to question my "fitness" as a functioning member of society. I used to think that I was a very well-adjusted individual, an upstanding citizen even! But now? Not so much.

Exhibit A: Yesterday I was waiting to send some packages (filled with wedding dresses! WHAT!) at the post office around the corner from my office. This post office is always pretty ghetto and the (two measly) postal workers are totally and completely postal, but I consider that pretty standard post office style. But this place was a DISASTER. Starbucks cups and brown paper bags were strewn about, there were NO labels to be found ANYWHERE, the automated stamp/package machine was busted, and pretty much the whole group looked desperate and frightened. Some people just wanted to send A letter. A SINGLE LETTER. Poor souls. It was about 3pm, which I assumed was prime no-waiting time, but I was wrong. VERY wrong. The line was massive and I left to go run another errand, thinking that the line would dwindle by the time I returned. Again, I was wrong. I couldn't have been MORE wrong. (He's already pulled over! He can't pull over any further!) When I returned the line was twice as long. Literally. Even the homeless beggar outside asked me what the deal was. As if I knew!

So, anyway, the line was like 30 people deep. I am not even joking. And the previously light (yet awkward-sized) boxes were getting heavier by the minute. Also, it was hot. And to make matters worse, the man behind me wreaked of stale cigarette smoke and was loudly talking on his phone (that he let go through an entire cycle of rings) in another language, but then yelling, "1500 DOLLLLARRS" over and over again. He was also practically IN my back pocket. Which was nice. I repeatedly shuffled from this side to that and swung my boxes around in order to create MY personal space bubble, which failed miserably. Anyway, I started to have a minor panic attack about the whole thing and how long it was taking and how the postal workers were so mean and OMG can they not hire another worker and freaking out about the deafening silence. Then this man rushed in, bypassed the ENTIRE line and shouted frantically something about needing a passport. No one really knew what to do about him, so we just stared. Which I am sure he appreciated. He also had the WORST toupee that I have ever seen in my entire life. EVER EVER. It looked like there was a small dead furry animal resting on his head. And I laughed at my mini-panic attack and zoned out for the next 20 minutes until it was my turn.

The end.
True, double true.

Exhibit B: I will no longer sit next to someone I don't know on the train. If someone sits next to me, I will get up and stand. And in order to avoid THAT awkfest, I stand. Every time. Did I mention that I take the train to work and basically everywhere else I go like every day? Well, I do.

Exhibit C: Last week there was a birthday party in my office. 15 minutes before it began (just to be safe) I closed my door and DIDN'T ANSWER when someone knocked. Like, I stopped typing and everything. I am surprised I didn't hide under my desk like the total and complete spaz that I am.

Exhibit D: A few minutes ago, while waiting in line at the grocery store, the lady behind me bumped into my bag FIVE TIMES. In like 30 seconds. I almost punched her in the neck. Instead, I turned around and gave her the stank eye times a gazillion slash I excused myself. As if I had done something wrong!! I am such a WEASEL!

I am scared. For MYSELF.

The Bachelor: London Calling. Romantical!!

2008-04-29T09:27:00.006-05:00

So, remember that time when I told you all about how our TV bulb broke or burned out or whatever? So yeah. About that. We still haven't replaced it!! Each day a piece of me dies inside. Except not really. But Fiji is pretty much in heaven. He didn't have a TV for most of his adult life (WEIRDO!) and would prefer that we never watched TV. However, I like TV! I DO! I mean, I don't need to watch it every day or anything, but there are some shows that I want to see, NEED to see.

And one of those shows is The Bachelor. I am NOT ashamed. I have pretty much watched every season since it's inception. I am not above the Bachelor. It gives me pleasure. Mainly because I'm like, WHOA, I am SO much cooler than ALL OF THEM. So you know, it's an ego boost if nothing else. Also, I would never go on TV to find "the love of my life" while millions (okay, thousands) of people watch and judge me and editors edit the shit out it to make it more interesting. I do, however, have a slight to major crush on Chris Harrison. Probably my favorite part of the show is when they show little outtakes at the end. Those are the best parts! They actually show people's TRUE personalities (for approximately 15 seconds). Also, I like when Chris is on those little snippets. And then I want to call him up and see if he wants to maybe hang out this weekend and throw some bags on the roof or grab some beers or something. Anyway.

For those of you who aren't watching (FOR SHAME), the Bachelor this season is a Brit and he's kinda silly, kinda dorky, kinda hopeless romantic. And I like the way he talks and stuff. So that's nice. Anyway, last night this "sweet" southern girl got the big 'ol boot and she was PISSED. Like, FIRED UP about it. It was awesome. I mean, I do kinda feel bad for the girls at the end because he's totally telling them ALL the same thing and pretty much leading them on and what not. "I'm really falling for you..." or "I love...being WITH you..." or "I can see a future with you..." You know, the usual stuff after like 3 dates. (Not like I should talk seeing that I moved in with Fiji, oh, three months after our first date. WHATEVER. He's buying the WHOLE COW now!)

Anyway, I think I may have lost my train of thought here. Oh well. Clearly we're discussing (slash I'm writing) some REAL important, life-changing stuff. But, just one more thing...one of the ladies who opted for the "Special Suite" with the Bachelor brought along a "special surprise" to show him her "romantic side." Can you guess what it was??! CAN YOU?! Well, it was a black dress lingerie thingy. Yeah. See-through and everything! But the weirdest part about it, if it can GET any weirder, is that the camera showed her changing the WHOLE TIME and TAKING OFF HER UNDERWEAR!! WHAT!?? I literally had to look away! What is the deal with THAT?! Anyway, that really showed him! SO ROMANTICAL!

DARE: Completely Ineffective and Potentially Counterproductive (OOPS!)

2008-04-25T13:52:00.011-05:00

My Mom came into "the city" on Wednesday to do the whole Mother-Daughter Wedding Dress Shopping Extravaganza Thing. Her first request was to come "see my office" and "meet the awk boss." I caved and allowed both to occur. As you might recall, Wednesday was the day I was christened "Lisa" in the office space. When she called announcing she made it on the "EL," I shared the special "Lisa" story and begged her not to say anything to the boss man, which honestly she may have, had I not said anything. Anyway, after I introduced her to the man (which was HOLY HELL AWK times infinity!) as quickly as possible, she of course insisted on sharing a memory of my childhood . OF COURSE. I mean, WHY NOT. I could feel my face beginning to flush as I attempted to subtly (which is so not in my vast skill set) inched my way closer to the door (slash freedom from the awk torture). (I should probably note that I work on youth tobacco related research. So there you go.)

She proceeded to tell him about this one time when we lived in San Francisco and went to see the Giants (and then continued to debate with herself about who they were playing that special Spring day...NOT IMPORTANT. MOVE ON. Also, I am TOTALLY her daughter.) and as we were entering the stadium I saw a man smoking and apparently yelled, "YOU SHOULDN'T SMOKE! Smoking KILLS! You are going to DIE!" And wagged my finger in his face repeatedly. I must have just had a special DARE brainwashing sesh that week or something, as I was kind of a shy child and I don't recall being so anti-smoking and I certainly lost that inner passion when I picked up the habit of smoking Marlboro Lights like a champ at age 16. But those were also the days where I swore I would NEVER do drugs and certainly NEVER have pre-marital sex. Just randomly click on any month in my archives for confirmation of my past life choices. Shitshows and toilet lives and shame spirals aplenty!

My Life is Made Up of One Awk Moment After the Next

2008-04-23T10:09:00.002-05:00

My boss just introduced me as Lisa. LISA!!

Uhhhhhh?

This goes without saying, but AWK MUCH!??!?!?!?

So That Happened...

2008-04-21T12:47:00.003-05:00

The dress shopping, that is.

When we arrived at the first place I almost threw up. Really, I almost did. I felt super nauseous as soon as I saw the huge, poofy gowns. Then, to make matters worse, there was a bride behind the (see-through!) curtain and she was like on this tall pedestal thing looking at a three-way mirror with a gaggle of women ooh-ing and ahh-ing and I wanted to die. DEATH would've been better than that. My lovely friends saw my panic and informed me that I didn't have to do that. PHEW. Then when the lady came out and started asking me questions about what I liked and wanted to try on I drew a total and complete blank. Like blacked-out blank. I just stood there, stammering, "uhhhh, uhhhh, ummmm..." Seriously. How can I be a real, live person?? I'm such an AWK spaz! Anyway, my people saved the day once again. I think I maybe said like 20 words the whole hour-long sesh. I just didn't know what to say! But this one time when she was putting this dress on me my shoulder came out of the socket, which was fun and totally NOT AWK at all. Then she was like, "Um, miss, please don't do that again." I was all, "Um, lady, it wasn't ON PURPOSE." GEE WHIZ.

Then we went to this other place and I loved almost every dress! So that was awesome. What was NOT awesome was this psychotic bitch STARING at me the whole time. Seriously. (I really doubt she was giving you the stank eye. That's just the way her face looks.) I know I talk a lot of shiz about punching people in the face and stuff, but I think I really could've punched this broad. Right in the gut or neck or something. I think punching someone in the face would, like, severely hurt my hand, but the gut or neck seems softer and thus less painful for the puncher. Plus, getting the wind knocked out of you hurts like a bitch! Alas, I am a peaceful being and therefore chose to ignore her and frolic around the salon instead.

The last place I went to I got to choose which dresses I wanted to try on myself! So that was cool. But OMG I was sweating like a donkey and then the whole idea of trying on these dresses that OTHER PEOPLE have tried on (possibly SWEATING) started to really creep me out and stuff. I think the lady (who saw ALL OF MY LADY BITS) noticed the sweet sweat fest and turned on the AC. Lifesaver! Then this other lady started helping us too (who was way more helpful than the first lady, I might add) and the first lady was telling her what kind of dresses I like and she was all, "NO BEADING. NO BLING. NO LACE. NO FROUFY." And then I added, "SIMPLE." And then I got scolded, as she clarified, "We call it CLASSIC."

Well, sooooooooooooooooooooooooorry.

The end.