Crickets and frogs and owls, oh my!

For Halloween, Kaia and I went to the Roof for the Black-i-Ball party. The party was pretty low-key, but still a good time. There was even a red carpet and a professional photographer! Can you believe that?!

Anyway, the party wasn't really blog-worthy, other than the fact that pheebee was hit on by a woman. What was noteworthy was the overnight stay in theWit hotel. theWit is a fantastic hotel -- by Doubletree, believe it or not! the rooms are lovely, the tiniest bit of a downgrade from Westin. Same great comfy feeling, just less luxury. I liked everything about it. Loved even! But, they have the WEIRDEST couple twists I've ever noticed.

First, the complimentary lotion was by Gilchrist. Not the first time I've seen this brand in a hotel. But, this was the first time I'd ever used a lotion that smelled like freshly cut grass. Grass! I can't say that I don't like the smell of grass. It's very summery and nice adn reminds you of an outdoor barbecue. But, why on earth would a person want to smell like it? Weird, but we can live with it. Besides, the scent is going to fade after a few minutes anyway.

And then, we went into the hallway. Excuse me, but why do I hear crickets? We are still in the heart of downtown, right? They have it piped in. Yeah, you read that right. Instead of crazy Musak, they have nature sounds piped into the hallways of the hotel. And it gets wilder. They have crickets and owls at night. And then, in the morning? Roosters, birds, and ocean waves. So, I say to Kaia, why are there roosters and ocean sounds? Where are there farms near oceans? She says "maybe in Pennsylvania. Never underestimate the Amish."

Oh geez. Dear hotel management. Please stop wasting the energy to pipe in ridiculous nature signs. It's ok if the hallways are quiet. Or, in the case of Halloween night, filled with the sounds of 4 d-bags dressed as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tossing stuff about. (True story. I found out that's who they were when these d-bags woke up the next morning, loudly yelling the title of the theme song in a ridiculous staccato voice. I could hear it through the adjoining door. Awesome).

One or Two Good Drills

So, I'm watching the Packers game against the Vikings. We're at home today, and it's been nail biting so far. Not much has happened, it's just incredibly tense to see Benedict Favre return to Lambeau with a shockingly good Vikings.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Ahem. Sorry, I was interrupted by awesomeness on the field. Hooray GB recovering a Favre turnover!

Anyway, as I was saying, the hype around this game has been huge, of course. But the best part was watching Favre walk out and get booed. And frankly, the booing was deafening. It was amazing. I imagine that had to hurt a little bit from Favre. Terry Bradshaw predicted that there would be more cheering than booing. Favre did spend 16 years in green and gold. Boy was Mr. Bradshaw wrong. Really wrong. I bet it hurt more than a little bit. Can you imagine coming "home" after all these years, after the Super Bowls, record breaking, blah blah blah, and receiving a pail full of venom?

I can't say it isn't what he deserved. Yes, the management in GB took a hardline stance. and they had their reasons. But, we all wished Favre well when he went to the Jets. But, he has just repeatedly thrown salt into the wound over the past year. First, to go to the Vikings. An arch rival!! And then, to not only go there, but to say that it's the best team he's played on. Whoever said that Favre didn't do it for revenge is lying. And by whoever, I mean Favre.

I sure hope they drill him!

More Wheeeeeeeeee!

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!

I decided to take the plunge! On Sunday, I raised money and awareness for the Respiratory Health Association in a way that was a million times more exciting than a run/walk would ever be. The RHA of Metro Chicago hosted the Skyline Plunge! on Sunday. What is that you ask? It is the awesome feeling of plunging down the side of The Bolt of The Wit Hotel with only a polyester harness, metal hooks, and nylon ropes holding me suspended over 27 stories. I used a metal mechanism to lower myself down those 27 stories.

People asked me over and over if I was nuts, scared, crazy, senseless. Truth is, I am none of those things. I was just feeling adventurous, and it was for a good cause. Although, I can't say I was really doing it for altruism only. No, I was doing it for the thrill. Honestly? How many people can say they rappelled down the side of a building in a busy downtown area?

The actual feeling was quite tiring. You basically have to hold yourself upright. Another blogger described it as holding yourself in a perpetual sit-up. I'd add that your tummy is tight, but it's more like holding your self in a crunch -- so not only are you holding your upper half up, but your feet too. The other thing? You're supposed to be "walking" down the side of the building. Pah! Whoever said that was totally lying. My feet kept slipping, so eventually I just gave up and let myself dangle. I can't say I was a big fan of when I started spinning around, and slamming into the side of walls made of glass. The other thing? No one tells you how tired your hand gets! To lower yourself down, you have to squeeze this little mechanism. It really feels like those old school hand strengthening devices that men used to use to prove their strength.

Eventually, I got to the point where I just wanted to get down as fast as I could because my hand, back and inner thighs were starting to get really sore. That, and it was a bit repetitive after a while. There really wasn't much to look at up there. I bet the scenery is beautiful from a mountainside. But from theWit? Really just street, trees, and river. The Chicago Theatre sign looked REALLY cool though. Anyway, enjoy the pictures that follow!

Ad Nauseum

So, on Monday I saw an ad in the RedEye for a fundraiser for the Respiratory Health Association of Metropolitan Chicago. Instead of a run/walk, volunteers will be rappelling down the side of theWit Hotel!! How cool does that sound?! On Tuesday, I sent out an email to nearly everyone I know asking if they'd be willing to donate. On Tuesday night, I had insomnia so I signed up. On Wednesday, I started my big electronic push to get funds from friends, family, co-workers, acquaintances, friends of family, co-workers of family, etc. I even posted a link and status updates about my efforts on LinkedIn and Facebook.

Now, I'm about 58% to goal, and I've got a ways to go. For the record, I will have to cover any difference between what I raise and what is the goal. Which, I must say, is an excellent motivator. But now? Even I am sick of hearing myself talk about it! I've managed to slip it into so many conversations I'm starting to think I'm playing a perpetual game of 6 degrees of RHAMC (get it? Instead of Kevin Bacon?).

I'm almost done though. I go over the edge of theWit in 2 days. The irony here is that I've now managed to put it on yet another crazy. Ha ha!

Revenge of the broke

Today I went to look at a townhome for sale. It's up for short sale, and it was the very first piece of real estate that I went to look at with actual potential for purchase! Usually I'm just tooling around my neighborhood looking at places that I'd buy if I had oodles upon oodles of money. Anyway, I was really excited because the pictures on the MLS website made it look really awesome. Of course, being the cynic that I am, I was expecting the pictures to be total glamour shots, and that they'd oversell the place.

Nothing could prepare me for what I saw though! Ok, I've heard before that homes in foreclosure are often in terrible condition, because people are saddened by the fact that they've been evicted out of something they own. But this was ridiculous! Apparently, the trashing rule also applies to those homes that are under short sale. Ok, so we went after work. Obviously, it was going to be dark. Well, the people who used to live there were kind enough to leave lightbulbs only in the bathrooms. Seriously! They stole nearly all of the lightbulbs! They also took some of the light fixtures too.

What they did leave behind was portions of a sectional, piled in a corner. Some cleaning supplies that were obviously not actually used on the unit. Dust bunnies, nasty stains on the carpet, and a pencil. All I can say is, ewwwwwwwwwwww.

It's really sad too, that of the three places I checked out, this is the one that had the most potential. Ack! Quick, I need a couple hundred grand -- clearly I need more buying power.

Rush in NFL

I know I'm late to the discussion party, but I also know that all of you were dying to know just what I was thinking too. (HA!)

So, Mr. Rush Limbaugh wanted to buy a piece of the St. Louis Rams. Frankly, I think he should've gone ahead with it; or more accurately, I think his partners shouldn't have kicked him out. I would have love to have seen the fall out. Players requesting releases, free agents refusing to sign with St. Louis, the organization having to payout extraordinary sums of money to get players to stay or sign. The entire organization financially brought to its knees. Followed by the boycott of the games by fans (because the Rams begin to suck AND on principle). And Rush Limbaugh losing all of his money.

Here's what's sad, I don't think it actually would have gone down that way. I think some of it would've happened. But, I'm betting that everyone has their price -- and a lot of players would have gone to St. Louis just to be in the league. And I don't think all the hype would've had much of an effect on people who just wanted to watch a game. Sure, I think there would have been some sort of outcry/repercussion. But, I don't think that the attention span of the American people is good enough to really sustain a movement against an NFL team past the immediate season.

So, good work to the partners that kicked Rush out. I guess my real question is, what were they thinking when they put him in? You couldn't find anyone else with a couple mill to toss around!?

French Women Don't Get Fat -- PAH!

Well, I've been to paradise and back. I spent 3 days in the French and Dutch West Indies. Aside from the fabulous weather (a few minor rain sneezes, but otherwise great) there was a ridiculous amount of extraordinarily rich food. I ate two full French meals. Plus, I had a lovely catered dinner at the hotel. I for sure gained 10 pounds in those three days. I don't know how French and West Indies women don't get fat, but I'd die for their secret!!!

Now, aside from the extraordinarily rich food, I also marveled at the fabulosity of the hotel. And by calling it a hotel I am underselling the Dawn Beach Resort and Spa. A Westin owned resort, this place was every bit the tiny piece of heaven Westin advertises it to be. I must have taken 7 pictures of my room alone -- and I was in one of the less desirable rooms! I had a hallway in my room...a hallway! Then, off to the left, a nice sized closet with a cleverly placed switch that turned on a light whenever you opened the door. To the right, a bathroom bigger than my current bedroom. Big enough to have a separate glass enclosed shower and a huge bathtub.

Then, the bedroom, with a big flat-screen tv, a king-sized bed, a lounge chair, and a desk. And yes, bigger than my living room. And, the sliding glass door opened onto a balcony, large enough to hold two chairs and a wooden coffee table. It was fantastic!

The thought I had to myself as I was falling asleep my first night there? "I don't care where I go on my honeymoon, as long as I stay in a Westin Resort."

To top it off, I met my new married friend! She doesn't have a nickname yet. But, she is fabulous! She is for sure one of the most put together people I've ever met. And, she's got an extraordinary husband too. (At least, the way she tells it).

New Year's in October

It was a lot like New Year's Eve. I spent way too much money to go to a bar that normally doesn't have a cover charge. I was wearing a pair of extraordinarily uncomfortable shoes (that were fabulous!!!). And I wore a fantastic party dress that I purchased for no apparent reason 6 months ago but worked out splendidly for the event. It wasn't nearly as fun as it was hyped up to be. But, all in all, I would've been really mad if I hadn't gone.

And that, is my very accurate description of my 10 year high school reunion. Honestly? It was soooo not worth the $65 I paid. And, frankly, the reason it wasn't worth it probably had something to do with poor planning. However, I know I definitely would've regretted it if I hadn't gone.

In high school, I wasn't very popular (or awesome). The popular girls generally didn't give me the time of day. (These were the same girls that were too cool for school in elementary and middle school). As you can imagine, I was soooooooooooo ready to have my big (HAHA B*****S!!!!). I definitely didn't get that opportunity. None of those girls were there. Some of the nicer popular girls were there, but they were all kinds of hugs and kisses. It was weird. Even weirder, one of the girls that I was pretty good friends with in high school gave me (and the rest of us) the cold shoulder! Say what!?!? Hilariously, she's teaching theatre, speech and English classes now, and had truly turned into the crazy dramatic theater teacher. Seriously, the transformation was crazy. Picture one of your good friends suddenly morphing into that hippie teacher in high school. For the most part though, nothing truly outrageous occurred.

So, I didn't get my big HA moment, but I got to see a ton of people that I actually liked throughout high school and see what they were up to. And up to they were! One guy had toured with Prince, and another girl was a diplomat for the U.S.!! Unbelievable right? But most surprising were the number of girls who were married and/or with children. That was MIND BOGGLING! Can you imagine being married right now? Don't get me wrong, I would totally rock an engagement ring. And I am so amped for the cake and party. But to actually see the same person over and over again, everyday, and commit to love and cherish them for all of eternity? Good-ness. I am shuddering on the inside. Hmm...having recently read over older posts, it would appear that I'm totally over my desperate attempt to get into a relationship (for now).

The Glorious Return of Pheebee

I've had a lot of snide comments pass between my ears. Many of them made their way to my Facebook page. Those were mainly witty quips that could get done in 5 sentences or less. However, some things just require a full page of prose, and that's where the return of pheebee comes in. Yes friends, I'm back -- and hopefully with a vengeance.

Since most of you keep up with me by phone and email, there's no need for a serious review of what's happened in the last 3 months. But, for those of you just joining the party -- and those that need a refresher course, I figured I'd re-visit the characters that make a regular appearance in my book:

Married Martamack, aka MMM, aka Brother. An on again off again unsolicited older sibling who was invited on to the island after we met at my first job (also known as Dante's Inferno). Was kicked off the island a while later for being less supportive and more negative (and for accusing me of interfering in his marriage. An unfounded accusation at that). Has been given a passport for short-term visits, as he's keeping his negativity to himself and is otherwise able to give pretty decent advice (whether or not it's actually solicited).

Kaia. Ride or die girlfriend. A hero for actually having the guts to leave a crappy boring law job to pursue dream of being a famous actress. Also a former regular, now sporadic, partner in crime when out flirting with boys and trying to get free beverages.

The Cashmere Mafia, aka the Mafia. A group of fantastic ladies, mostly of color, with whom I used to kill every Tuesday at Martini Park. The group consisted of lots of chicas, but the main characters were Big Sis (also from my last job), Kaia, and an interior designer whom I don't think ever got a moniker. Our regularly scheduled meetings ended shortly after the big bash Halloween party.

The Young Titan, aka The Titan. A guy I met last football season, shortly before the holidays. Pretty guy, my own real life Calvin Klein model. I had to cut off all communication for about 3 months because I was sick of "just kicking it." As no one will be surprised to here, we're speaking again. My tolerance fluctuates with each passing day, but the peanut gallery seems to think I should give him a chance.

The Engineer. No introduction necessary. A guy with tons of qualities that I love living in perfect harmony in a tall, lithe frame. Said frame is unfortunately employed and living in Seattle.

2DP. Oldest and dearest friend from back home. First guy to turn me down, and I have no intention of letting him forget it. Also best friend and roomie of an ex-boyf of mine. Usually responsible for pervy remarks and overall silliness that keeps pheebee grounded and entertained.

I'm sure there are a bunch that I'm forgetting, but we'll reintroduce them as we go along. Stay tuned for future shenanigans!

Complaints Department

Current Complaints:
1. my job
2. my love life
3. my social life
4. the h'ing penguin
5. the titan
6. the shape i'm in

I don't understand, and if you do, please fill me in -- when, exactly did complaining about something automatically mean you aren't grateful about it? For example, today I was complaining (albeit publicly) about being unhappy at my job. For the most part, I got a lot of support from people in the same or similar positions. One person, (see complaint #4) was extremely vocal in saying that I should be the happiest person in the world but I'm not, blah blah blah I should count my blessings.

Well, excuuuuuuuuuse me! I was having a bad day at work, and I've been questioning my career choice for several months now. Excuse me for not dropping to my knees and being eternally grateful for being unemployed every waking second of every single day. Does the fact that I'm not entirely certain that I love my job -- or even my field, for that matter -- mean that I'm not grateful and full of praise to the Almighty because I am gainfully employed in a position that keeps me in my cute little loft apartment and fantastic shoes? Ugh, nothing like a little righteous self-indignation to set a girl's teeth on edge.

That being said, I can tie this all in to the more entertaining subject of my love life. Basically, aforementioned penguin keeps making random stabs at "trying to get to know" me. Whatever. Each time I talk to him I find my hackles raised. Sort of like walking in the sand with shoes and socks. No matter what you do, you'll keep picking granules of sand out of your shoes. SO ANNOYING! This last gratefulness comment just makes me want to throw him off a bridge...or at least off my island. The definitive answer is absolutely no!

Sniff, Sniff

I smell. In fact, I totally reek. I find myself in unfamiliar territory. I want, desperately want, to be in a relationship. I think I may even want one for the right reasons. Now that, my friends, is exceptionally weird. Most often, I don't want a relationship at all. If the time comes when I want one, then normally I want one out of boredom, or because it's winter and I want someone to snuggle with, or just to pass the time because my friends are all in relationships. While some of that is true, I can't really say that's the true motivation.

No, lately (probably the last month or so), I've been wanting a relationship for all the right reasons. Because I want to have that special someone. It doesn't take a rocket scientist (pun intended) to figure out that my craving for a relationship strictly coincides with the time I've spent with the Engineer.

The second most unfortunate thing, (the first being the Engineer living across the country) is that when the whiff of desperation is on you, a relationship is sure NOT to come. Sooooooooo, what are we gonna do? Well nothing, this feeling has always passed before, it'll be a passing feeling again.

And one other thing? Desperation or no, my standards haven't gone anywhere. And quite honestly, I have yet to find someone I care to spend more than 45 seconds with.

Under Where?

I have declared war on underwear. I HATE wearing underwear. I'm not the biggest fan of going commando either though. So what's a girl to do?

Who decided underwear was necessary anyway? Seriously, what purpose does it serve (aside from the obvious special time of month)? Here's my thing. Some masochist/woman-hater invented the thong. What kind of sane person walks around with floss between the cheeks not on your head? (Or either set of cheeks for that matter.) Floss belongs between teeth, and no where else.

The alternative is the dreaded VPL -- the visible panty line for those of you fashion backwards. Who decided that visible panty lines were such a fashion faux pas? And, even if wasn't a fashion no-no, do I really have to be bothered with wearing full coverage drawers? Ok, I know that they patterns can be quite adorable, but how adorable is it when nobody sees it, AND they're riding up uncomfortably between aforementioned cheeks? ARGH!

Ok, so the moral of the story. How do we banish underwear forever and ever?

Inaccurate Reflection

I'm watching "So You Think You Can Dance." One of the contestants says "I was really confident up until I saw myself on video, now I'm not sure." Deep thoughts from a reality show contestant. I have to day, I totally feel him on that though. Does this ever happen to you? I'm out and about, feeling fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine, thanks to my super-friendly bedroom mirror. Then I get to an accurate reflective surface and it's like oh goodness who let me out looking like this?! Frankly, it's not a good feeling.

I hear we humans are quite good at fooling ourselves. When a couple is in love and gets married, they don't update the image of each other 30 years down the road. So, they still see that same glowing fabulous person that they married. Weird huh? And, I heard on the Today Show, that lots of people don't weigh themselves. Those people tend to lose less weight/weigh more. It's as though by not weighing themselves, they can convince themselves that they haven't gained weight.

Oh we humans, we're so very gullible.

HP Update

See that? That's a play on computer/printer updates. Anyway, this is a blog about the humping penguin. Here's what's been happening:

Basically, we had our first date, and he worked my last nerve. Then, he kept working my last nerve. The short version of the story is, I was a total pill and sick of listening to a story that wouldn't end, so in an effort to get him to make a point, I said "land the plane." I fully acknowledge and admit that this was not appropriate first date banter. I even half-apologized after he pointed it out. But, here's where he starts tap dancing on my nerves. He kept repeating it after aforementioned apology. Ok, I deserve it. 5 times in one day, fine. Incidentally, after the date is over, he hugs me goodbye, and I think to myself "Sigh. Not nearly as hard as the Titan -- abs I mean! Get your mind out of the gutter!!!"

Anyway, over the course of the next week or so, I hear/read this phrase over and over again. So, finally I say, let's drop it forever and ever Amen, ok? So, I think this is the end of it. I think wrong, he says it again! I am BEYOND irritated, and I tell him so (albeit in a nice way).

Anyway, we don't have anymore dates. He doesn't ask, and honestly? I don't particularly care. Thereby winning the bet I had with the Engineer, (a bet he squelched on, but that's a story for another day). We do, however, continue to talk, and forge a friendly, networking relationship. he even brings me chocolate (in an attempt to bribe a co-worker into using his web-hosting company).

He even takes me out for beverages for my birthday. Yeah, things get a little strange at that point. He calls me, after said beverages, and makes a ninja-style proclamation. He says that he's failed at every relationship he's ever had, but he wants me in his life always. So, ok, that's...interesting.

Anyway, today, he brought me flowers. He said it was because he'd seen my posting on Facebook wishing that a guy would bring me flowers. And might I mention, that is a GREAT way to start the day. (A day that quickly went downhill, but that's a story for another day too.) So, I called to say thanks, and he asks me to send an email thanking him so his boss could see that this was the way to do business. So, I'm totally cool with that. And then he calls back later, and would you believe the first words out of his mouth are "land the plane"? I swear I could've killed him. Instead, I hung up on him (with warning). Then, I called back and told him that my phone got disconnected. ARRRRGH!

Ok, so the moral of the story, I'm never ever ever gonna date this guy.

Hitched or Ditched

So, I'm watching The CW's new "reality" show "Hitched or Ditched." Ironically, the gay community staged a protest down Halsted as a result of California's narrowly upheld ban on gay marriage.

Anyway, I think this may be my new guilty pleasure show. The basic premise of the show is a couple that's been dating forever gets a free wedding. The catch is that they only get 7 days to decide whether they want to get married. On the last day, at the wedding, everyone is all dolled up, dress is on, ring is picked, cake is baked, and then the couple decides whether or not they'll be married. Unbelievable, right? It's purely craziness. In the first news, it's a couple that's been dating for far too long, and has yet to commit. Both families think it's a bad idea. They've each said that they aren't necessarily sure. As I watch this, the bride is at her bachelorette party, and she totally denies that she's going to get married. The husband decides to go crash the bachelor party. (Idiot). Drama, of course, ensues -- including him throwing a bottle on the floor while being interviewed by camera. No, he didn't throw it at anyone.

He tells the bride that they need to go, and pulls her out of the bar. She tells him that she's not ready to go -- and proceeds to go back in the bar and drink and party more. Good for her! Idiot. Who crashes a bachelorette party?

I can hardly wait for the ending to see what happens. Which only pumps up my interest for future episodes! Hello, guilty pleasure. :)

Cud chewers

Ok, I admit it. I just don't understand why some people believe it's ok to walk around chewing with their mouth open. I'm in 'bux today, and I just couldn't help myself. I was staring. This girl, a little blonde yuppie girl, enjoying her cinnamon swirl coffee cake. WITH HER MOUTH OPEN. Seriously! It wasn't like a my-nose-is-stuffy kind of chew. It was a I-have-no-home-training kind of chew. I don't understand how she doesn't have TMJ with that super hard chewing.

Equally as bad? The ninja. First of all, he's in flat out denial that he chews with his mouth open. But, he also drinks like he's just spent 15 days in the Sahara Desert. NO beverage is that good. Not a tasty 'bux drink, or an adult beverage, or some magically delicious combination of both.

Oddly, it doesn't bother me at all when people talk with their mouth full. I can only assume that this is a result of my enjoyment of lively dinner conversation. Witty banter is a near impossibility if everyone is sitting about chewing politely.

In other news, I nearly called the Titan this weekend because I really wanted a boy to play with for my birthday. I was successful in resisting the urge, given my incredible disgust for feeding a big-headed man's ego. Hopefully my resolve holds out.

In still other, (more important) news, the Engineer will be making another trip east. Which, of course, means that I have between now and then (10 days) to drop all the weight I gained since he last saw me in San Francisco. Note to self: stop eating tasty and delightful things, and start eating icky healthy things.

Motivating factors

See this? This is me writing a blog about nothing instead of doing any sort of packing. Lately, I've noticed my energy being completely zapped without warning or reason. The last time I felt like this, it was a direct result of the sheer magnitude of displeasure for my job. Now, I hardly feel the same way about my current position. Sure, I'm not the biggest fan of my current position. But, it's not so bad that it makes me want to stab myself in the eyeball. On the other hand, I guess I'm not all that enthused about it either.

Anyway, this lack of energy has been extending to my workout regimen. (Enter the feeling of missing the Titan for his obvious motivating energy). Unfortunately, I've only been to the gym once in the past three weeks. Bah! This is terrible because a.) I don't look as cute, and b.) I have a very special visitor coming in 3 weeks. How does one get motivated to drop some weight in 3 weeks so that when a certain engineer arrives into town his jaw hits the ground?

I really need to re-commit to my general goals. Suggestions?

Lactating

So, I decided to go to the gym. Oddly, I went because I assume I want to be a hot mama for the Memorial Day holiday. But honestly? This was the first time in a long time that I didn't feel like I had to go; despite the fact that I have for sure gained weight.

Anyway, this was my first time at the gym in about 3 weeks, give or take. Bad idea to take that kind of time off. Man, my skin was itching like I had poison ivy from the inside. SiQ has informed me that this itchy horrible feeling is the result of lactic acid, and is solved by eating bananas. Unfortunately, I kind of hate bananas.

I must have had enough lactic acid coursing under my skin to give the nearest infant heartburn. (See that? That's why I wanted to write this blog -- just for that one-liner right there. Clever, no?)

I'm going to try to officially jump back on the wagon. Wish me luck!

A country mile

This Sunday, after church, I went to brunch with some friends. Well, my city has this fabulous new policy of requiring everyone to carry an entire freakin' roll of quarters in order to park your car. I, unfortunately, do not have access to a bank vault at the drop of a hat. So, after about 29 minutes, I went to the front of the restaurant to get change. They didn't have any. And thus started my adventure on a country mile.

Next, I went to the concierge desk of the hotel next door, to ask for quarters. Nope, no quarters there either. They sent me to yet another restaurant. Nope, no quarters there either. So, I start debating with myself whether to risk a ticket, or just suck it up and pay to park in a structure. On my way to the car, (a $50 ticket is just not worth the $7 I'd save), I spot a cop car. I'm a little bit irritated with the city, so I decide to be snotty with the cop. I ask him if he has quarters. Would you believe he gave me $1.25? So, that's only enough for like 6 minutes, so I tell him never mind, I'll just move my car. He totally gives me the green light to not worry about getting a ticket. He's, apparently, the beat cop on the street. Although he noticeably didn't ask which car was mine. He does, however, offer me a ride back to the restaurant.

Well, I'm wearing heeled shoes, and I'm parked about 2 blocks away. Heck yeah, I take the ride. He first offers me a ride in the back, which causes me to raise an eyebrow. Instead, he lets me ride up front. When we got to the restaurant, he asks me who I'm meeting. When I tell him that I'm meeting girlfriends, he slips me his number.

I get back to my seat, and the girls ask where in the dickens I've been, one girl asked "did you walk a country mile?!" Well no, I didn't. I got a ride for a two block walk :).