Clearly a Sign that The Apocalypse is Nigh
Friday, May 30, 2008
Clay Aiken is going to be a father.

Yuck, yuck, and YUCK. That is all.

Hostess with the Most-ess (or Not)
Thursday, May 29, 2008
I volunteered to host my book club for our May meeting. It's tomorrow. The book up for discussion is Jon Krakauer's "Into the Wild," of which (I suspect) the group will generally approve. We're a pretty amiable bunch - that is, until the conversation turns to baby names, religion, and premarital cohabitation/relations.

Have I mentioned that it's a mother/daughter book club? (cough)

Anyhow, I decided that it would be funny to have a dinner consisting of heavy appetizers INSTEAD of our normal, sitdown gathering where we chat, prior to discussing the book. So I put together a completely random grouping of recipes that I've been wanting to try - all of which are, of course, appetizers. Since the book is about life on the road, and camping, I thought mobile food (complete with adorable toothpicks!) would just be funny and quirky. Camping food! Baked Beans - it's not an appetizer! Let's overlook that little detail! People can just graze! Like a picnic! Funny!

Now have another glass of wine.

I'm getting deeper into meal preparation this week and I'm thinking it might end up just being weird. So far, I've been forced to obtain a melon baller, a garlic press, and experiment with marshmellow in the oven. If you hear screaming coming from the South Loop tomorrow night, send help - and six cheese pizzas.

Here's the menu:
- Spinach/Artichoke Dip w/crostini
- Sweet/Spicy Bacon-Wrapped Chicken Bites (Paula Deen)
- Baked Beans (Pioneer Woman)
- Stuffed Mushrooms
- Twice Baked Potato Bites
- Veggie Platter w/Roasted Red Pepper Hummus & Dill Dip
- S'Mores Bars for dessert (with ice cream)

God help me.

I'm Just Sayin'
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Am I the only one who thinks the whole "$5 footlong" Subway ad campaign jingle is a little dirty? It just sounds kind of porny to me.

She'd met a man on the Boston & Maine Railroad: that was all she'd say.

Just Your Typical Friday Night (Alternate Title: Why Sweater Sets Don't Belong in Bars that Stamp Your Hand Upon Entry)
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Just this past Friday evening, my best friends and I made plans to meet up for dinner. We figured that Kate, whose wedding is at the end of the summer, might need a distraction - you see, her fiancee Dave's bachelor party/weekend drinking marathon/guys trip to Wisconsin was just beginning across town at Morton's. And really, what is more distracting than dinner with your loud, opinionated, overserved girlfriends? NOTHING, THAT'S WHAT.

So we met innocently enough at Las Pinatas for some dinner and margaritas. I could write an entire thesis paper on why rocks margaritas will eventually be the death of me, but I'll save that for some other time. (I think I'm better off with frozen 'ritas - I drink them slower, thereby staving off death by intoxication. Whoopsie - there's my thesis statement right there! I'd better get back to graduate school, obviously, to study body chemistry and physiology as determined by Jose Cuervo. I owe it to my liver.)

Here we see Kate (the impending bride, on the right) and Jen, the responsible, stylish, married one (on the left). some point in the evening, we thought perhaps Kate should have a mini-bachelorette evening of her very own. Which is interesting, and potentially awkward, considering Curly Kate's boyfriend M was there, along with a coworker of his, K. It was the first time we'd met K, and she is hilarious and funloving and all of those things, but can she handle a night of us, drunk on tequila?

At that point, the only sane thing left to do was the most insane thing we could think of - head to the local biker bar. The trashiest place imaginable, short of the suburbs. I speak, of course, of the one...the only...Hogs and Honeys. Well, there was one other trashy option, but I didn't think I could get into Coyote Ugly wearing a brown cardigan from Anne Taylor Loft. I HAVE TO DO LAUNDRY, OKAY? IT WAS ALL I HAD CLEAN.

So we wrapped/gulped up the last of our dinner, and headed out to meet our fates. Turns out, our fates involved stealing the bride-to-be's drivers license and signing her up for a ride on the mechanical bull. My personal fate involved the bull as well, along with a verbal disagreement with the bull operator about getting my license back, and whether or not my hair color is real. Just a note for all you bull neophytes out there - DO NOT, under any circumstances, disagree with the bull operator. My inner thighs are STILL regretting that fight, DAYS LATER. Just take my word on this one.

Curly Kate is next to me, and you'll see that I am not the only Mr. Rogers in the group. Also, can I please get an ABP out on my upper lip? Where the hell did it go?

Kate the Bride was remarkably calm about the whole thing, which is fortunate considering we thought she might just throw a massive hissy. She's a cool cucumber, that one. Curly Kate was in charge of photography, and Jen was in charge of the "I Was Only Going to Stop By for One Drink" department. We had M man our handbags (so manly of him to comply), and promptly embarassed ourselves by falling off the bull in quick succession, and downing one too many cheap beers.

There will be no photos of aforementioned mechanical bull riding, as both of the only useable shots were marred by heinous facial expressions and questionable television programming playing in the background. After all, my mother does occasionally read this blog. Also, I'd would prefer NOT to be disowned by my closest friends.

Instead I'll give you a brief synopsis of what Jen's husband (who was, lucky for him, home sick) thought of our evening-

And in the great tradition of getting older and becoming increasingly pathetic in social scenarios, we left around midnight - blitzed and very, very tired. There you have it - just a typical Friday night in my life.

Let There Be Peace on Earth, and Let it Begin With Me
Sunday, May 25, 2008
You know, I almost went to bed early tonight. If I had done so, I would have missed the National Memorial Day Concert on PBS (my hometown channel is WTTW-11). I wrote some details about my family's history with military service in this post, but tonight's event was something different. Something memorable, something to think on.

Whether or not I agree with our president, our laws, or the overall ignorance of a society so blessed and lucky, there will always be war. There will never be a time when someone is not hurting, is not in pain, is not giving of their own life so that I might live my own. I came upon this televised concert about halfway through - just in time to hear the orchestra play the Armed Forces Medley. When each branch of the armed forces' loyalty came up in the music, spectators and attendees who had served as part of that particular part of our military (or are currently serving in that wing of our armed forces) were invited to stand and sing along, salute, etc.

It was not five seconds into the Coast Guard anthem (the first of the group) and I was bawling uncontrollably. I was taken aback by the pride that each spectator took in representing his or her participation in the fight. Instead of a solemn regard, there was joy in each of their faces: the elderly woman sporting her Navy cap and jacket, the African-American gentleman and his son standing in a salute, flanking one another while the Army music played, the pony-tailed tourist with the large Nikon hanging from his neck - tears in his eyes while he stood to represent the Marine Corps. They stood for me, they stood tonight for themselves - for us all.

I didn't even bother to stem the flow of my own tears, instead letting them run down my neck and onto my right hand, which in a surprise even to myself, I found resting on my heart.

Thank you to all those who have given their lives, the families who have given of their loved ones, and particularly the soldiers who have returned, with wounds far deeper than the ones that manifest themselves in the physical. Freedom is not free, and this yearly holiday doesn't even begin to touch the amount of respect that each and every American should have for you and what you have done for our country, our people, our future. God bless you, and thank you on this Memorial Day.

This One's Going Out to Sean
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Even though the full breakdown is a mystery, there is officially no doubt that some percentage of Doc's genetic makeup is comprised of hound dog...(turn up to hear ALL the sound)

Untitled from Jamie on Vimeo.

While you watch that, I'll be watching the Indy 500. Happy Memorial Day, everybody!

Friday, May 23, 2008
According to my blog stats counter, someone recently visited my page from Florianpolis, Brazil. Sounds like a lovely town.

My only question is this - what am I to think of the URL search phrase that brought them here? They were searching for "sousaphone instrument petting zoo."


Gettin' Hairy Up in Here
Thursday, May 22, 2008
So Whoorl did it again - Hair Thursday has officially debuted and appears to be a smashing success.

She also linked to my page again, which gave me a minor heart attack because my content is not typically Whoorl-thy (get it, Whoorl worthy? Worthy of Whoorl readers? Oh, never mind.) I mostly just report on the minutiae of the day and night.

But because the small spotlight is on me yet again, I thought I'd welcome all the folks popping over to say hello.


I document my hair on Flickr - click here for the subset of photos. Any input you have would be appreciated - I have a cut schedule for next Thursday. Thanks, and welcome!

Move aside. Don't linger. And if you're going to dawdle, get out of the way. But what any Chicagoan will also tell you is that the past is very much present. It doesn't go away. It shouldn't. In fact, that's Chicago's lure and its beauty: its ability to take what was and figure out what could be.

If anyone has ever asked you "What's so great about Chicago?," now you can explain it to them.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The vibe in the room, though, is more uncomfortable than appalled, like we've all been dragooned into watching Porky's Revenge at grandma's house...I predict that in the decades to come, law schools will teach this as the "Shaggy defense." You allege that I was caught on camera, butt naked, banging on the log cabin floor? It wasn't me.

It's Time for the Percolator
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Recently, I spent some time navel-gazing in the worst way possible - watching old videos of myself. I started with 5th grade when I was TINY (why did I not realize how incredibly small and thin I was?! Must have been all those turtleneck/puffy sweater outfits)...seriously, my legs were like toothpicks. Then add some more footage of me and my flat chest in high school, and via my video time capsule, work my way into the sad years. Also known as my short stint as a professional cheerleader.

Throughout all the embarassing footage, complete with fashion faux pas' and insanely bad hair, the only thing that really resonated was this: I used to think that I was thin because I was young. I categorically rejected any other explanation, and placed any blame for my current body squarely on the shoulders of Father Time. But my age had relatively nothing to do with it - I was just REALLY ACTIVE. I had forgotten how much I had going's a wonder I found time to eat at all!

And since no one likes a whiny blogger, I'll leave it at that - an epiphany regarding my activity level in my youth and teenage years. So I decided to do something about it...start exercising again. Because...duh.

The one thing that really keeps me motivated during a workout is good music - it has to have the right meter and pace to it, and it must be FULL of energy. I am not the person who can run around a track listening to "Brown Eyed Girl."

So I present to you, my "trying to get back into shape" workout mix - known to my iPod as "Work it Out (Get in Shape Girl!)"

Yes, I am a huge dork.

Wild Boys - Duran Duran
Up in Here - DMX
Renegades of Funk - Rage Against the Machine
U Got the Look - Prince feat. Sheena Easton
Wild Thing - Tone Loc
Superheroes - Daft Punk
Welcome to Atlanta (Remix) - Jermaine Dupri
A Question of Time - Depeche Mode
Too Much Booty in the Pants - 69 Boyz
Music Takes You Back - Modjo
Let's Get Loud - Jennifer Lopez
Sinnerman (Heavenly House Mix) - Nina Simone & Felix da Housecat
Knock on Wood - Amii Stewart
Keep Hope Alive - The Crystal Method
I Got it From My Mama -
Easy Love - MSTRKRFT
Glamorous - Fergie
I Should Know - Dirty Vegas
Ain't Nothing Wrong with That - Robert Randolph & The Family Band
I'm Free - Kenny Loggins
Gimme More (Kaskade Remix) - Britney Spears
Digitalism in Cairo - Digitalism
'Til I Collapse - Eminem & Nate Dogg

Am I missing any fantastic work out song that I should obtain? Please advise.

Where Everything's Peaches and Cream
Monday, May 19, 2008
This has been a winner of a Monday, if I do say so myself.

I just realized that I absolutely cannot hear "Jungle Love" by Steve Miller Band without smiling. It just makes me want to boogie.

In Which I Realize that Drinking While Sewing is Both a Help and a Hazard
Sunday, May 18, 2008
So I was testing out a new pattern tonight - a handbag design by Amy Butler. I cut apart an old bridesmaid dress to test it out and while it ended up being cute, it was no easy task. I sew for enjoyment, but also to maintain and/or increase my less-than-impressive spatial skills.

At one point, I realized that not only had I sewn the handles INTO the body of the bag, but I also had no idea where my seam ripper had gone. I'm also pretty sure I sewed a needle or two into the internal chamber of the bag. Whoops.

I would love to blame it on my choice of fabric (a gorgeous, but SLIPPERY chocolate brown satin), but I think it was mostly me. On the bright side, having had two beers helped not only my patience but also upped my pain tolerance for those inevitable (and frequent) times when I stuck my hand with a straight pin. Awesome.

This is what happens when boredom gets the better of me. Better luck next time, hopefully.

Weekend Update with Jamie Jamerkins
Friday night, the girls and I went to the Old Town School of Folk Music to see one of our favorite artists, Alice Peacock. We may not always agree on things, but we all enjoy her music. Peacock's music speaks to each of us differently, and when she has local dates on her tour schedule, we try to make an effort to see her. Opening for her was Peter Bradley Adams (his website is horrible, so look him up on iTunes if you're curious, or Google for him), who was really great. He certainly has a way with melody, especially on the piano, and I went home humming one of the more catchy tunes. If you've never heard the music of either of these talented singer/songwriters, please lend them your ears. You won't regret it.

Saturday, I putzed and futzed around the house. Laundry, checkbook balancing, cleaning, cooking, and some other stuff was apparently just enough for me to completely miss seeing the Nascar All-Star event. I'm still miffed about that, and now if I want to see the broadcast, I'll have to catch it on SpeedTV at some point. Boo! I thought it was on Sunday! Argh.

This morning, I had the BEST MORNING EVER. Woke up late, wandered over to 7-Eleven for my big gulp of Diet Coke and the sunday paper. After clipping my coupons (yes, I am officially an old lady), I headed off to work for awhile. Then some more FASCINATING errands like a trip to Walgreen's and paying a $0.90 overdue fine at the library. Don't you wish your life was as exciting as mine?

Seriously though, it was kind of nice. One late night of fun, then some quiet days to deal with the random things associated with everyday life. This summer is going to be a busy one, so I'll take whatever calm I can get.

Friday, May 16, 2008
With the aid of two blow-up exercise balls, she danced interpretively for the entire 10 minutes, banners waving in the background. It was part Debbie Allen, part You and Me, Kid and part yogurt commercial. It pleased me so, and it exemplified why Erykah gets away with so much: her kooky charm saves her every time. Her banter with the audience was entirely hilarious. She did this thing when she sang "Tyrone," wherein she sang the "my" in the last line ("...But you can't use my phone") over and over to prolong the song. At one point, she sang a bunch of "my"s to the tune of "Wipeout" while feverishly doing the Watusi (at least, I think that's what it was). When she was finally done the song she reported, "Someone said, 'Work, bitch!' Uh, thank you?" Similarly, she kicked off a five-minute closing speech in which she thanked the audience for basically letting her do what she does, by saying, "Ladies and gentlemen, I want to let you know something: this hat itches."

MY GOD, I love FourFour.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008
I've had exactly three haircuts since the great chop of October 2006. One was a maintenance cut on the shaggy pixie I initially got. The next was done about 8 months after that, out of sheer necessity. It was nondescript and designed to go along with the "still growing my hair back" stage. Then, earlier this year, I got blunt cut bangs.

It's been about 3 months since the bangs, and I find myself in DESPERATE need for a cut. Again. I guess I'm really hairy...or something. Whatever. THE POINT IS that my once cute, eye-level bangs are now pushing their way into nostril territory and it's not only incredibly itchy, but the other layers have completely grown out (and together) as well.

Since the ever-fabulous Hair Thursday is booked solid for the next fifty years, I'm going to have to ask you guys instead. Feel free to chime in with any constructive feedback.

Here's what I currently look like (courtesy of a series of poorly edited iPhotobooth images) - do you see the craziness? I'm downright shaggy! I'm also staring at the offending, aforementioned bangs.

The mid-level layer has officially grown out into mushroom-ville. NOT attractive:

So, ladies (and gents, if for some unusual reason you have actually made it this far into the post)...thoughts? I'm game for anything, but thinking perhaps less is more on this go 'round. For the first time, well...EVER, I don't really want to do anything drastic.

Please advise.

Ha hahahahaha hahaha (snort) ha!
Oh my Lord. Click here and then click here for the auxiliary hilarity.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008
This has been the week to end all weeks - and it's only Tuesday evening. As part of my ongoing effort to keep a generally positive outlook, I'll spare you the details, but sufficed to say that I feel as if I'm running in place. For whatever reason, it has simply been a tough stretch of days and shows no signs of letting up.

Instead of cursing the situation in which I find myself, I'm simply going to ask this.

How do you recharge? How do YOU, specifically YOU, you wonderful blog reader get your mojo back? Because I have a sinking feeling that I'm going to need some serious replenishment this weekend, and I don't think booze will do the trick this time.

Hey Mama
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Dear Mom,

I'm coming out of a self-imposed blogging moratorium to wish you a Happy Mothers Day. I've been thinking a lot lately about where my life is going, who I am becoming, and whether or not I even like the direction my life has taken. Totally unlike you, I struggle with being positive. And much like you, I am driven internally by things I cannot describe - forces that cause me to constantly question myself, my actions, my choices. I am always going, moving, doing and even when I go through a lazy phase, EVEN THOUGH I know a rest is good for everyone now and then, it never fails to make me feel guilty.

My life has been a little nutty over the past decade. I am trying desperately (or at least it feels that way) to figure out what I'm "supposed to be doing," and have failed a couple times. You see that I am my own worst critic, and your support is unwavering. I am lucky and grateful because even when I doubt myself, I have you in my corner.

You stood by me through a 1200 mile relocation (and miserable, unsure return), a stoner boyfriend who broke my heart, bad decisions (and bad grades) in college, several auto accidents with the family car, and even those awful times when I really said the WRONG thing and knew it.

Despite our differences, I know that your chief concerns are my health and happiness. I promise to try and remember that next time I'm needlessly short with you on the phone because I'm distracted by other things, or the next time I vehemently disagree with you on something and fail to phrase it diplomatically. (or correct your pronunciation of the words "fajita" or "costume" because...just...ARGH)

Thank you for being close enough to count on, and far enough away to allow me to make mistakes. I love you!


Wednesday, May 07, 2008
A girl needs a break every now and then. I am going to take a couple days to recharge my batteries.

My favorite David Gray song came across my iPod this morning (courtesy of an all songs shuffle), and it seemed very fitting for a day like today. Click here to hear part of it (title is January Rain).

I'll be back soon. Until then, leave a message at the beep.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Fatherhood is not unlike the Special Olympics. Sometimes you get a medal just for showing up.

May...Hem (an update)
So far, so good on my goals for the month of May - here are some updates.

1. Load up on chick flicks that he would never IN A MILLION YEARS watch with me
Currently figuring out which ones to get - P.S. I Love You is def. on the list.

2. Go to the Hopper exhibit at the Art Institute

3. Finalize a budget for the upcoming wedding season

4. Get acquainted with my sewing machine again
Bought a pattern - now I just need fabric and a miracle.

5. Start Doc in obedience lessons
They start the 20th at our local Petsmart.

6. Finish my spring cleaning
In progress - cleaned the shower this morning while I was in it!

7. Have a slumber party with my best friends
This Friday - a belated Cinco de Mayo with the easy Mexican chicken and many Corona Lights w/lime.

8. Host book club

9. Give the dog a bath, already, geez
Done, last night. Now he is softer than a stuffed animal.

10. See my sister's new house!
Done, and it is gorgeous! I am so excited.

11. Get more sleep - shift my sleep schedule so that I wake up earlier.
In progress, working nicely so far.

12. Stop drinking caffeine after 12pm.
I'm down to one can of soda after 12, otherwise this one's almost accomplished.

13. Read more books.
I'm going to start a new one on the train this morning! That's two so far for the month!

Painful Realization(s)
Sunday, May 04, 2008
In preparation for this weekend's yard sale (more on that later), I combed through the items I have stored in my parent's basement. Amongst the old collections - keychains and cameras, mostly - I happened upon a photo book from my high school exchange to Duisburg, Germany. Immediately, I became acutely aware of just how clueless I used to be about my appearance.

Growing up, my sister and I received the utmost in love, support, and conservative parenting. Our parents treated us very well - and always made sure we had our heads screwed on tightly. There were dramatics, as one can expect from a household with two adolescent girls, but mostly we just went about our business. I never thought twice about my appearance (and by "thought," I mean significant thought - doubt, self-loathing, etc.) because it literally NEVER occurred to me.

So tell me why, NOW, I look at these pictures and cringe?! You know what they say about retrospection...

Above, you see me sporting not only an ENORMOUS rain jacket, but also low-top Chuck Taylors and jeans with a tapered leg. A tapered leg. Because apparently it wasn't enough to have clothing that screams "I'm a tourist, please pick my pockets!" but was also necessary to look like a small, stumpy leprechaun.

Also, what is UP with the arm placement? I cannot for the life of me figure that one out.

Next up...graphic tees! Now in cheesy themes! Like Kermit the frog:

I took this photo in the hopes of teasing my friend S, who was completely infatuated with Max, a german student who was accompanying our group. Max had dreamy eyes, but a HORRENDOUS lisp that I simply could not get past. Good thing he wasn't even remotely interested in me, thanks in part to my creepy Anne Geddes t-shirt and braces. See below:

That's Max on my left. S, who was in luuuuurrve with him is on the far right, in the navy baseball hat. I think, at one point, they got drunk on Jagermeister (how cliche) and made out with one another. I didn't drink a drop in high school, so I mostly spent that night taking care of people, trying to keep everyone from getting busted. It didn't work, but I definitely earned brownie points with our chaperones for being the ONLY person who was not vomiting into the street drains the next morning.

Continuing on with the misery, I present to you a little something I like to call "Zero Body Awareness meets Birkenstocks and Socks" - enjoy!

Don't I look excited to be alive? I vaguely recall being irritated on that trip due to humid weather (hence, the frizzy 'do) and the fact that S (whom you see in the long, tie-dye skirt) kept singing "Smells Like Teen Spirit" at the top of her lungs.

I even managed to look horrendous while eating. Now, prepare yourself for the following image. Let's just that while Virginia may be for Lovers, Germany is not for Vegetarians. Germany is for carnivorous, redheads who have yet to discover the wonders of hair product and eye makeup.

Ahem. I'll say only ONE thing about the inevitable reaction you may have to this photo, and that is this: I'm a good girl. I didn't do that kind of thing back then, and MY MOTHER READS THIS BLOG, so let's just drop it, okay? Okay...

Finally, I present you the ultimate in embarassment. Because that is how much I love you all. If those photos above weren't bad enough, there's always the flight home.

Because what goes better with a full face scowl than overalls that are also shorts?! I think those two go hand in hand.

No? Was it the scrunchy white, athletic socks that threw you off?

When my reunion committee peer J told me that the guys at our 10-year high school reunion were mentioning how amazing my friends and I looked, I was shocked to hear it. I don't feel any different. None of us really (on a fundamental level) look any different than we did back then. But looking at these photos, maybe we do.

It's been said that hindsight is 20/20. And while a healthy perspective on one's self is helpful, I think there's a reason I wear glasses.

People for The Castration of Warren Jeffs
I purchased this startling book for our book club's 2007 holiday book exchange. Turns out, my friend Kate ended up with it. When I asked about it recently, she loaned it to me and said that I had to read it. Now, that is a ringing endorsement because girlfriend is B-U-S-Y. She travels all the time for work, she has a puppy and a broken-legged fiancee at home, and a wedding to plan. It's a miracle she had even read the book, let alone highly recommended it.

So I read it. In two days. The day after I finished it, the "Yearning for Zion" compound in Texas was raided and investigated. I cannot even begin to tell you what Carolyn Jessop wrote in her memoir, but I can tell you this: It scared the socks off of me. If there are more families in this FLDS culture that are anything like Jessop's, then we really need to get in there and help those children. All 20,000 of them. They aren't being schooled. They aren't being valued. Young men are being dropped off in the middle of nowhere, abandoned by the few people they had that truly loved them. Teenage women are being raped, beaten, verbally and emotionally abused. No pets are allowed. Wives are using their bodies as currency - playing head games, power games, and sexual games with one another in order to maintain the attention of their husbands. Nutrition for both children and breeding mothers is nearly non-existent. And all in the name of religion.

So is that okay? Can we really ignore what is going on because their religious freedom is constitutionally protected? My stance is this - if they want to be protected by the constitution, and claim their right to practice their own religion, then they need to step up and display full compliance with state and federal laws. Period. Just like anybody else in this country.

The book made me angry, sad, furious, frustrated, and completely proud of Carolyn Jessop. What she went through - all to protect her children - is just staggering. She stood up for her own rights, the rights of mothers everywhere, and the right of every human being to have the kind of life they want and deserve.

Please read this book.

Boredom Township: Population 1
Friday, May 02, 2008
Well isn't this just a peachy Friday night.

I'm sitting on the overstuffed, floral couch at my parent's empty house. They're on vacation to Rome and Capri for a week or so - and thank goodness my mother autopopulates her AOL password, or you wouldn't be reading this earth-shatteringly excellent blog entry. (cough)

It is genuinely spooky out here at night. My parents live in a large house and I'll be damned if it doesn't feel like every dark corner is housing a homeless maniac, hellbent on killing me in my sleep. I consider this a sign that I have officially lived in the city for far too long.

As awful for the environment as it might be, you can believe that I turned on pretty much every light possible when I arrived. I also brought along the dog, despite the fact that his guard dog potential is lower than zero. I started my laundry for background noise, turned on the television, and logged onto the internet. Too bad I'm not a phone person, or I'd be idly chatting with some unfortunate friend right now.

If this glass of pinot grigio doesn't kick in soon, I'll be forced to download Bejeweled on my father's laptop. I'd tell you to come visit - bring reinforcements! - but I am 100% sure that a knock at the door would cause me to stroke out. I am that jumpy.

I sincerely hope you're all having a much more interesting Friday night than I am.

Keep Calm and Carry On
May is proving to be an...interesting month. Sean is away for business until the 31st (India, again) and I find myself grasping at straws for activities to keep myself busy. Not in a 1940's, pining-away-for-my-boyfriend-while-spraying-perfume-on-stationery-used-to-write-him-letters way, but in a constant-i-feel-like-something-is-missing way. It's weird, because I consider myself an independent person and I have plenty of things with which to keep myself busy.

List of things I'm going to do in the month of May:

1. Load up on chick flicks that he would never IN A MILLION YEARS watch with me
2. Go to the Hopper exhibit at the Art Institute
3. Finalize a budget for the upcoming wedding season
4. Get acquainted with my sewing machine again
5. Start Doc in obedience lessons
6. Finish my spring cleaning
7. Have a slumber party with my best friends
8. Host book club
9. Give the dog a bath, already, geez
10. See my sister's new house!
11. Get more sleep - shift my sleep schedule so that I wake up earlier.
12. Stop drinking caffeine after 12pm.
13. Read more books.

What are YOUR goals for the month of May?