News and Updates

Bet you're wondering how my date went with Marshall, my top secret date with my co-worker's son. Well, here it is.

We met up for drinks near downtown. But for the fact that he's got 2 girls and 2 kids, it would've been a high quality date. Conversation was not bad. While I was able to shock him, he was not so bad at keeping up with my snarky comments. Sadly, my good times plan of dropping my knowledge bomb was thwarted...he already knew that I knew.

But, alas, he has reached the upper echelon of player-status. Despite the fact that he knew that I knew about the two girlfriends and the ex-wife, he still treated it like a closed sale on a 2nd date. It was a flat out date for him, and he was darn confident that he'd get another one. In fact, he has officially taken the crown of the most arrogant person I know.

As we all know, pheebee enjoys a bold guy. Making the decision on granting another date completely conflicting. I enjoyed the date on a superficial level, but I really am not interested in becoming girl Tuesday, aka girl #3 -- that we know of.

My friend has a theory that the reason I kinda like the idea of going out with Marshall again is knowing that I have absolutely no responsibility to try and make it work with him. Nor do I have to actually see him all that often. I'm starting to sense a theme with all of my friends. Ah well!

Sad and Exasperated

As the It Girl, I was awarded a fabulous gift certificate for a pricey romantic dinner at a local restaurant. The certificate expires in 18 days. I have to find a love interest in 18 days. This, my friends, is what sucks about my life. I have no one to take to this dinner. Wait, let me rephrase. I have a variety of friends who would be willing to go. SiQ may be in town by then, and Kaia is always down to go out. But, I tire of constantly taking women where I should be taking men. Just once, I'd like to have a nice boy to do things with.

Sure, I asked Snowflake. But he, not surprisingly, has flaked. Actually, he has permanently flaked. As it turns out, he's come to the conclusion that he's not getting any from me (some people are slower than others). So, he's pretty much stopped returning my phone calls, and mostly blowing me off. Believe it or not, I'm less bothered by that than the fact that I can't invite him to places as a backup date.

And, there's always the Ninja, but as he's ticked me off for the for real, honestly, no more pretend, actually and truly last time, I can't ask him. And there's the guy who is aiding me raise my sketchiness quotient. I could take him, but he wouldn't properly appreciate it. AND, I'm positive he would read more into it than the intent. And, before you ask, yes I asked the soon to be only a mere visitor on the island, IM Boyf. And he said he'd go. But I don't think he'll make it to the Chi before the expiration date.

So what have we learned? I do not get the playette of the year award after all.

America's Pasttime

Is there a more loathsome mainstream professional sport on the planet than baseball? I defy you to find one. The sport has no redeeming quality at all. I've never liked baseball, but living in the Chi has turned my simple dislike into all out hate. I've spent the past 10 minutes watching the bottom of the 9th. For the past 10 minutes, the same dude has been at bat. He's hit at least 34 fouls, AND the count was full. In other words, I'm pretty sure the pitcher threw to this guy at least 90 times. That doesn't include the tosses to first base in attempt to keep the guy on first base from stealing second. That's 10 minutes of my life that I will never EVER get back.

And then, on top of all that, the players aren't even pretty to look at. For the most part, they are unattractive and overweight. Please give me one good reason to watch this sport. I beg of you. If I can't appreciate the "action" (and I use that term loosely); and I can't drool over the pretty boys, then why am I watching? This is the part where I remind myself that I have the power to change the channel. *Phew*.

Genius Award of the Day

Yesterday, I got the genius award of the day. Why you ask? Because I am a genius!

Yesterday I had to drive to an arbitration to lay some smack down. After laying the smack down, I (unfortunately) had to go back to the office. Lucky me, the parking structure wasn't full! Hooray! So, off I pull into the parking structure and secure a spot. I turn off the car, throw my keys in my purse, open the door, and hit the automatic lock. And then I think to myself, "hmm...that's odd. I never do that. But I guess it's ok, I specifically remember putting the car keys in my purse. It would suck to lock my keys in the car, but I know I'll have my purse with me." (I'm not exaggerating, I literally thought that because I have a special paranoia about locking my keys in my car).

Anyway, I get out of the car and take out the shoes I'm going to walk to the office in. For the record, I totally deserve what I get because I was only changing shoes so that I could wear my Charles David black-patent-leather stilettos to lunch with Martamack. Anyway, as I'm changing into my tennis shoes, I hear the door slam behind me. (Insert expletive here). Then I think to myself, "maybe I left the window open." Followed by "I never leave my windows down." I walk over to the other side of the car, and of course, the window is secured and up. (Insert expletive here.)

How did I get into my car after all? Well, I am quite resourceful, that's how! And by resourceful, I mean that I called Martamack and begged him to help. Thank goodness he had his car in the city. (Sadly, he's going to hold this over my head for months, I can feel it.) And then the adventure began. I spent my lunch hour going to Kaia's new job in Wrigleyville. Then I went to Kaia's apartment to get my spare apartment keys out of her purse. (Getting a wee bit lost on the way). Then I took her apartment keys back to her at her job. Then we went to my apartment to get my spare car keys. Nearly 90 minutes later I'm back at my car, getting out my bags, leaving the shoes, and going back to the office. At this point, all I've had to eat is an apple. So I stop at CVS for a quick Lean Cuisine, and see my boss standing in line. (Blast!) So I boldly walk up to him and tell him the story; at which point he promptly calls me a knucklehead. (Good, he doesn't seem to blame me, or notice that I was gone for 90 minutes). And that's how I got the genius award of the day.

Sketchy McSketcherson

Duuuuude. I've upped the sketchy quotient a notch. Here's what happened:

So, my co-worker has a son who is pretty attractive. But he's also out of my age range, and has 2 kids, and is recently divorced. None of this really mattered though, because the odds of me ever meeting him were slim to none. So really, the only reason to ever discuss him was to laugh at his antics with his 2 girlfriends. Oh, and I told my co-worker to set me up with him so that he could take me on a cruise the way he did one of his girlfriends late last year. (The reason this was funny is because a bunch of family members went, and the girlfriend was mostly a whiny wet blanket. I told my co-worker that if they took me, I'd be loads of fun, and really wouldn't care what he did or with whom. Basically I just wanted the free trip -- you know me!)

So, all of that background for this: He stopped by the office because he was in the neighborhood. And my co-worker brought him around to meet all of us. So when they got to my office, I asked her if she'd told him about the cruise plan. She hadn't, so we told him then and there. After he walked away, I arrogantly said to myself "bet he asks her for my phone number -- or comes back and asks me." (Yeah, I can't believe my arrogance either!) But get this, later that night, I definitely got an email from him telling me to call him. (Unbelievable, right?).

I email him back, and tell him that I'll get back to him in a couple days. He slips it in the next email that he didn't tell his mom that he'd emailed me. Which honestly is fine with me because this is seriously not going anywhere. And it'd be wicked awkward to tell her I'm dating her son. (Yikes). Anyway, I never called. I figured why bother. I don't do so well with players, kids, or the older gentleman.

But here's the shocking part. He actually called me! Just the other day, which is roughly a week later. I never would have thought he'd call. I mean for one, I said I'd call him and didn't. And for two, based on what his mom says, he's quite the player. Since when do player's put forth so much effort? Anyway, he was quite bold and asked me when we were going out for lunch. I was quite sassy (because that's what players drive me to be). So now I have to be all secretive about my upcoming lunch date. (That means you too readers! Keep your collective yappers shut!)

Short story long, we're going to lunch. And I've officially raised my sketchiness quotient. Aye pheebee!

Horoscope

According to my horoscope, I'm commitment-shy. I would like to categorically disagree with this. I enjoy the idea of commitment greatly. I like the idea of having someone to spend an entire day in bed with. Of course, maybe that's just because I enjoy cuddling, and thus far have been unable to find a pet that I can cuddle with without risking asthma. Shout out to Gigi! But, what I don't particularly relish is the idea of committing myself who isn't the GREATEST. BOYFRIEND. EVER.

According to my ex, the Ninja, I want someone who's perfect. Well excuse me, it's not that he has to be perfect. He just has to be perfect for me. I'm not entirely clear on why that's too much to ask for. But that really does explain why we're soooooooooo NOT getting back together.

This does leave me to wonder where aforementioned greatest boyfriend ever might be found. I can pretty much guarantee that he's not making it very easy to find him. Hmm...maybe people (and my horoscope) think I have a commitment problem because I'm not so diligent in my search? D'ah well. Just add it to my list of things to do.

Score, Schmore

This is the gist of Brother's theory on my ACT score. The conversation went like this:

MMM: So you got a what on your ACT?
pheebee: A such and such.
MMM: And you got a full ride to law school?
pheebee: Yes.
MMM: At that pretty good law school?
pheebee: Yes.
MMM: Ok, either those scores and scholarships are not tied in the least to intelligence...OR you are the biggest. liar. EVER.

He was referring to my somewhat questionable actions when it comes to my love life (or lack thereof). I don't think it's fair to make that assumption. I mean intellect, I'm all over that...often. But, love life? PAH! I have little to no experience.

On the other hand, maybe it's just MMM being wrong as usual. Later on in the conversation, he told me I was going to be single and alone forever. Nice isn't he?

Silencing the Peanut Gallery

Yeah right. That title is really in reference to wishful thinking...sort of. I enjoy the peanut gallery. But lately, the peanut gallery has been yammering about IM Boyf. For some reason, they've knighted him the one with Potential. I have no idea why. I mean really? He lives in St. Louis and has distinctly expressed his general aversion to relationships.

And, evidently, I also have an aversion to relationships. Is it weird that I use my friends and road-dogs as one of my many many many valid reasons not to get into a serious relationship? I mean, really...I feel about 1000 times more useful as a single friend. I think it stems from the time when I was the only "singleton" around, and all of my (in-town) friends were in LTRs. I had no one to play with on the weekends. Add to that the fact that it was wintertime and it made for a lonely stretch. Grant it, I probably wasn't going out due to my general avoidance of precipitation; but I would feel extremely guilty if any one of my friends were in that position.

Now's the part where I acknowledge that not one of my friends has ever EVER laid said burden at my doorstep. And frankly, I don't think any of them would reciprocate -- nor would I ever ask them to. I mean really, what kind of selfish beast would ask that? And, if one of my friends had the audacity to ask or imply that, I'd probably tell them about themselves (and they wouldn't like it). But, at the moment, that's my current reason for avoiding relationships. And it's working quite well thank you.

Actually, it's a fall-back reason. There's always the lack-of-opportunity reason. But if you ask the SiQ (which, no one did), she would say that the reason I have no opportunities is because I turn them all away due to aforementioned reason. But really? Even if she (or any other member of the peanut gallery) destroys that reason, I've got a million others. So bring it on ditches!

Playette's Handbook

In an effort to distract myself from Gigi, and because my dating habits are cyclical, I have been out a few times in the past few weeks. Four times in the past 2 weeks to be exact. First, there was IM Boyf for the Jill Scott concert in St. Louis. If I may? Wow. I was thoroughly and completely impressed. From the sports car to the decent seats, to having to pay for nothing but my train ride down, Mr. IM Boyf pulled out all the stops. And he framed it so that I was completely off-guard -- I thought I was a back-up date.

Second, I had tix to the John Legend Concert. It was by invitation or win only. I originally invited the Ninja, in an attempt to give him a 2nd chance. But, as per usual, he flaked. This time, he even waited until the last minute. So, I spent the next 2 hours finding someone else to go with. I called Snowflake and TinyTot. Both were available. So, I had to blow off TinyTot, and pacify him with a Friday date...and take Snowflake because I asked him first. That, and John Legend is a little deep for a first date. Anyway, Snowflake not only showed up, but also was quite a date. All in all, I'd say it was an excellent date.

The next day was Friday. I planned to meet TinyTot for First Fridays at the Museum of Contemporary Art. But, before I could go, the Danka guy asked if I wanted to grab a drink. My answer, of course, was heck yeah. Unfortunately, the Danka guy bought be two beverages prior to meeting with TinyTot; so I had to play sober with TinyTot. The Danka guy is over a decade older than me, so it wasn't a real date. TinyTot was. And I'd say the first date with TinyTot was quite good.

So, do any of these have potential? I have no idea. I'm not ready to place any bets yet. As long as I'm in the middle of the cycle, I may as well enjoy it and go with the flow. If for no other reason than the story...and we all know I'm always in it for the story. :)

Missing Her...

I never thought I'd get teary-eyed over an animal. I never thought I'd miss a kitty after only 2 weeks. But alas, here we are. Gigi cat is going back to the shelter tomorrow...and I feel awful. I feel awful because I'm sending her back to the shelter and I know she hates it. I feel awful because she was just getting used to being here. And I feel awful because I failed as a pet parent. But when it came to choosing between gambling with my health, I decided to send her back. Basically, the doctor told me that the throat-tightening could potentially go away in a few months. He also said that I could potentially develop asthma. Basically, I decided that I'd better not take that chance. If I waited a few months, only to become more attached, and then have to take her back, I'd die of a broken heart rather than asthma. So, I'll miss her...but maybe I can try again someday when I have a bigger place...with doors. :(

Magic Act

Well, Gigi is the name that won, of course. It was destiny, it goes well with "the Magician". How did she earn that name, you ask? Well, Gigi managed to find the one teeny tiny 4" by 4" hole that leads to the dark morass under my counter. A spacious hiding spot that no human hand can get to, short of moving the stove out of the kitchen. She found it and stayed there for about20 hours.

For the first few hours (this was Friday), I just assumed she was in there, since there really isn't any other place for her to hid in my open floor plan apartment. So, I went out with Kaia, Lalo, and IM Boyf. When I came home, nothing. She, evidently, hadn't moved. During the night, around 2am, I heard "meow, meow." And that was it. I suppose she was just making the announcement that she was still around. The next morning, I still didn't see nary a hair of her head. I started to get concerned that I'd actually lost my new friend in less than 24 hours. Until I looked down next to the stove, and she looked back at me like "Dude, What?". So I roll my eyes and leave her be.

For the next several hours, I called the shelter and tried all of their suggestions to get her out. She meowed twice, but was having none of this coming out business. It wasn't until later that night that she came out. First, she stuck her head out. When I got to close, she went back in. so I walked away, and out she comes. She explores a little bit, and then takes up residence under the coffee table. Well, I decide to go out with the same suspects from the night before, now that I know she's safe, and so she'll have some quiet time. (I got to see my former neighbor and standby boyf, Adam!)

When I got back, she'd used the litterbox (and the area in front of it, but she scooped out litter to cover up what didn't make it in the box). But she still hadn't eaten. Not long after I got home, she shot up the stairs and hid under my bed. Where she stayed until late Sunday. I was all kinds of worried because she still hadn't come out from under the bed or eaten by the time I left Sunday afternoon. Well, when I came back Sunday evening, I went upstairs to try to coax her out for the last time. Guess who wasn't there? That's right, Gigi. She started meowing from under the coffee table, and then ate heartily. Oy. Gigi the Magician indeed.

Why I've been silent...

Ladies and Gentlemen...may I introduce the reason why I've been remiss in my posting...

Introducing Gigi! (AKA Gigi the Magician, Wonder Kitty....stories on that to follow)

Winter blues

So, today, I come home from work. And I see a bright orange glow. I'm totally panicking -- what could be on fire. Oh my goodness! Did someone break in? Did I leave some electrical appliance on?! WHAT HAPPENED?!?!

...

As it turns out, nothing happened. I just saw the setting sun, shining in my window. THAT's how long it's been since I saw the sun.

Cheap Shots

Here's what I don't understand. Why are people (aka self-righteous - extremist - conservatives) throwing around Barack Obama's middle name? (It's Hussein if you didn't already know). I mean really, to be eligible for the presidency, you must be at least 35 years old. Which, would mean, Mr. Obama would've been born at least 33 years prior to middle America hating Saddam not-related-to-Obama Hussein. Therefore, are you implying that all of middle America is too stupid to realize that Hussein is a common name in more than one country? OR are you implying that every person with the same name is of the same caliber of person, same religion, same personality, etc.? If the latter is the case, then I feel sorry for all of y'all named John (John Wayne Gacy), Charles (Charles Manson), Aileen (Aileen Wuornos)....well you get the idea.

New Rant

Ok. I have had ENOUGH. I am tired of television putting pressure on women to have perfect, fabulous bodies (AKA bodies like mine - HA). But I am more tired of television not putting the same pressure on men. Because frankly, women are just as shallow as men. So QUIT putting fat men with pretty women on sitcoms.

Examples: According to Jim, King of Queens, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and the like.

I mean really. This is a terrible idea. Shows like these make men believe they have the right to hit on anyone, and women start ranking themselves and believing some men are unattainable. This is completely unacceptable. And I, for one, am not going to take it anymore! From now on, I vow to only watch shows with hot guys.

And while I'm on the subject of television, did anyone watch that new show Quarterlife? It aired for the first time last night on NBC. Thank you, NBC, for a show about a bunch of fake-plain white people. What do I mean by that, you ask? Well, let me explain. First of all, the take teeny tiny women, and put glasses or plain clothes on them, and make them play average characters. (I take offense to the glasses part -- and the clothes part, because I don't watch you to see you in a dirty t-shirt). And THEN, they add a cast of plain looking hippy dippy white guys. And, then on top of all of that, I am totally sick of the homogeneity of winter in the Chi. All of that adds up to a show that is a total disdain on my part. (That, and the plot wasn't really all that impressive).

Snugglies, or, The Importance of a Good Bathrobe

For the past few weeks, I have been living in a new set of playclothes. Enter the fabulous rubber duckie sweatpants and extra-snuggly bathrobe. I'm in heaven. You know that song that says "the weather outside is frightful...". Well, the weather outside is frightful -- but I couldn't care less! I can't remember the last time I went out. Usually, I'd be sad about this. But, thanks to the snuggly rubber duckie pajamas, and my extra comfy bathrobe, I am just ecstatic at the promise of lounging on my chaise. So, what we've learned is that staying in is an excellent past-time, as long as there are sweats and a bathrobe. (A t.v. and a nice warm fleece blanket help too!).

On a sidenote, currently the names Jack & Kate are winning. But I haven't sent out the survey link as an email yet. :)

Signs you may be Boy Crazy...

So, there I was, reading the headlines on AOL. And I see a headline that says "Athlete Cut All Over Body." And I think: "oooh! I wonder if there are pictures?!"

...

Then I continue reading, and it says "Player falls through plate glass."

Yikes. Think it's time to find a new crush, maybe??? Hello, my name is pheebee, and I'm boy-crazy.

There's nothing wrong with a little OCD

In an effort to keep my current obsession fresh, I've created a survey. (How awesome is being able to create a web-based survey anyway?! So, feel free to vote at will!

Click Here to take survey

Fashion Mini-Update

So, I have an update for the ladies out there. I've noticed a few things that have come up for spring. First, that awesome safari dress that I bought a couple years ago is going to fit right in this spring. The safari look is back. I've noticed quite a few patch pockets, khaki colors, and safari dresses making a comeback. I've also seen some new twists, such as suits with the patch pockets in the safari-khaki color (ATL), as well as rompers. I'm not sure about the romper look, as I've only seen it on tv models, so tbd on whether that will work for everyone.

Also, for casual-wear, evidently we're also looking to Africa for patterns, colors, and trims. Casual shirts are beaded, or have earthy patterns, or are in earthy colors.

On the flip side, the feminine look is back in. Good news for the boys! We're showing more of our feminine wiles next season. So, more frills, more skirts, and more frocks. Also, there are going to be a lot more fluttery materials. Jury's still out on this -- too many ruffles can go very very wrong. But, I'm pretty amped about the peasant-girl potential (just think how much more comfortable that would be!).

Once again, it looks like fashion really is for the masses these days. Offering complimentary, but different ends of the spectrum at the same time. Nice work fashion gods!

Time flies

So, I just discovered that I am woefully behind on the blogging. But really it's because not much has happened recently. Lately, I've been having a crisis a day, but nothing worth writing because they are neither big nor hilarious. But here's a quick rundown anyway:

1. My parents are driving me nuts. Seriously up the wall, climb a bell tower, and start shooting crazy. I will officially go on record and say that for the first time EVER, I wish I wasn't an only child. Arrgh!

2. I'm still waiting for the kitty-fund to grow enough that I can afford cat-man-doo. (No, I won't really name him/her that. Yeesh! Have some faith!)

3. If I don't get an interview for a new job soon, I may get back up on the bell tower. Just sayin'.

4. I keep waffling on whether or not I should take on the debt of a mortgage in LP. I mean, I know I can't really afford what I want...but is it better to pay rent for another 3 years (to the tune of tens of thousands of dollars making a swoosh! sound as they get flushed?)? Or, is it better to buy something less than what I want, take the tax write-off, and sell in 5 years? I have no idea. But I know that my current salary puts me below the lines needed to get special lower middle class loans.

So those are my crises. Not major right? Yeah, I know. I tried to warn you. But nooooo you refused to listen. so you get a post full of non-exciting chatter. :}