Thursday, December 15, 2011

White Christmas?

My relationship with snow has definitely been a roller coaster throughout the years. When I was little there was no better news than the weatherman predicting 6 to 8 inches of snow because that meant the possibility of a snow day. And when snow days did happen, when you were little it meant you could run over to your friends houses and build snow forts and have snowball fights until you couldn't feel your face. Then once I got my drivers' license, snow became a huge nuisance. I still remember driving 15 mph along Walled Lake trying not to go skidding into the water on my way to school. In college, snow still sucked. There were no snow days, even when it snowed over 10 inches. Walking to class in the snow was the worst. Cold toes, cold noses, cold ears just to sit boiling hot in class for 2 hours, then walk all the way back home. Now that I'm in Chicago and working 5 minutes from my front door, I welcome snow with open arms. I can't wait to see the city covered in it. Snow and I are back on good terms and I need a white Christmas. Make it happen, Mother Nature.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

New Years Rockin' Eve

So I know that I've blogged before about holidays hijacking other holidays and stealing their thunder, but since I don't celebrate Christmas anyway I'm gonna talk about New Years Eve. Plus it's like a week after Christmas so you really can't wait until afterwards to start planning. Alright, for me, New Years Eve has always sort of been an elusive holiday. I've never had an epic New Years. I've never really even had a decent New Years. I mean, I'm partly to blame for putting the holiday on a pedestal, but it still sucks that at age 23 I haven't been able to master NYE. Here's a recap of my last few New Years' just to give you an idea of the amount of failure I'm talking about. [Just a sidenote: I struggled for literally minutes trying to decide which year to use to refer to the past New Years Eves. I decided to use the year it was on Dec. 31, so this year's will be New Years 2011. I don't care if it's right, it's how it's gonna be.]

2010: I spent the night housesitting with a friend and her boyfriend while demolishing super strong Jello shots that I had made. My friend and I watched The Hangover while her boyfriend puked red Jello everywhere. So much fun.

2009: Went to a bar in East Lansing, and I'm pretty sure this was my first New Years as a 21 year old (We went to Harpers. Anyone who knows anything about EL knows this was my first mistake. Lame). Got hammered, danced, walked home alone. My friend and her boyfriend got in an epic fight and I had no idea because I was hammered and dancing and walking home alone. Whoops.

2008: Tried to have a "classy" party with hors d'oeuvres and cocktails, but a bunch of randoms showed up and brought Doritos and beer and I don't remember the ball dropping.

That's as far back as I can remember specific New Years occasions; the rest of them kind of blur together into a pile of New Years shit. This year is the game changer, though. My roommate and two of our friends are going to a fancy shmancy party at a hotel downtown and so help me God it's going to be amazing. As soon as I find a dress to wear...ugh.


--Okay, I do remember one amazing New Years Eve, so I think it's only fair in the spirit of balance to tell you about that one. Prepare to be blown away.


1998: I was 10 and I was with my mom, two of my friends and their parents. We went to a nice restaurant and I specifically remember having chocolate mousse for desert. I also specifically remember jamming to Will 2 K on the radio. We went to the movies and saw You've Got Mail, then went back to someone's house to watch the ball drop. For a 10-year-old that's as good as it gets. 

Thursday, December 1, 2011

The Early December

It's officially December, which means it's time to watch Christmas movies and listen to Justin Bieber's Christmas cd on repeat. And, like all good Jews, I look forward to a Chinese food fest on Christmas day. The Christmas/holiday season (Don't get caught up in that, I don't get offended when people tell me Merry Christmas, you shouldn't get offended when people say Happy Holidays. Move on.) is, at least in the movies- which is what real life is based on, obviously- about love and stuff. However, my favorite things about winter have little to nothing to do with love and stuff. Okay, maybe peripherally because deep down I'm a hopeless romantic blah blah blah. December. Here's why it's awesome:

Snow. I didn't used to like it, but it never quite feels like winter until it snows and sticks. It's pretty and romantic and too much fun to play in. Now that I'm car-less snow doesn't seem like that much of an inconvenience anymore. Plus, Chicago in the winter is beeeautiful...when the snow doesn't shut the city down.

Pond hockey. Growing up there was a pond behind the houses down the street that we used to skate on. It was pretty shallow so it froze easily and if you were to fall through, which did happen a few times, you were only just above waist deep at worst. It was usually only someone's leg that went through the ice anyway. No biggie. Living in a high rise doesn't lend itself to pond hockey, but it's still something that makes winter awesome.

Hockey season. No explanation necessary.

Home Alone and Elf. The two best Christmas movies ever made. While I'm down to watch these any time of year, it's not considered obnoxious to watch them every day. Which I will. And I'll quote them both until you want to hit me but you won't because you know how awesome these movies are.






It's romantic. Period. From under the mistletoe kisses to the high expectation of the New Years Eve midnight kiss, there's so much kissing going on for cold and flu season. Something about the season makes people want to snuggle up and drink hot cocoa while watching football. Wait. That's not right...

December's just all around a great month, and I for one am glad it's finally here. Although I would like more time to find a New Years dress...31 days is definitely not enough.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Sweet Home Chicago

I've been trapped in the 'burbs for the long weekend. Over these last four agonizing days I've learned that I officially belong in a city, specifically Chicago. It's not even a contest, it's just not fair. The only thing that's better about the Hills than Chicago is the food I grew up eating is here. Oh, and my mom lives here but I talk to her on the phone. (Side note: My mom gets upset when I tell her I don't get homesick, but it's her own fault. She shipped me off to camp for weeks at a time starting when I was 6 or 7. By the time I was 8 I was going for a month straight.) Anyway, I'm beyond amped to get back to the city where it's loud and populated and I don't have to drive anywhere and things are open past 9 on a weeknight. Sure, in a couple months it's gonna dump snow and sometimes the el smells like pee, but that's just part of the charm.

Friday, November 18, 2011

1000 Reasons I'm Probably Adopted

I mentioned writing a post on this subject in a previous post and I'm bored so I'm doing it. Don't worry, I won't list a thousand things...right now. For now I'll just list a few of the reasons I could not possibly be my mother's biological daughter.

1. She cries. At everything.

I'm not a crier. I don't like crying, I don't like seeing people cry, I don't know how to deal with people who are crying. I really only cry when I'm pissed, which makes me mad and makes me cry more. It's awful. I also tend to cry at Pixar movies. Anyway, my mom cries at anything even remotely sentimental or emotional. She cried while watching Kim Kardashian's wedding special for chrissakes.

2. She doesn't like Buddy's Pizza

Anyone who knows anything about me knows I am obsessed with Buddy's, a local pizza chain in Detroit. I could eat their antipasto salad and almost-deep-dish square pizza every single day. My mom hates it. She'd rather eat Domino's or, even worse, Little Caesar's. Gross.

3. She's not musically/rhythmically inclined at all.

She's the definition of tone deaf and she has two left feet. I'm not sure how she spawned my sister and I. We both spent years dancing, my sister's a great singer and I can kind of carry a tune (even though in my head I'm a love child of Adele and Mariah Carey) and my sister and I both pick up instruments pretty easily. My grandma sang in a band in the 40s (seriously.) so she claims it skipped a generation, but I think I'm just adopted.


Disclaimer: I love my mom. I'm not adopted, it's a fact. She reminds me every single year on my birthday that I made her a whale the summer of '88 and it was the hottest on record.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Girl Code?

I hate Trending Topics. I hate them. Mostly because every time you click on them it's either something Bieber or Twilight related, or just some middle school nonsense that I'm too old to find funny. TTs are also a breeding ground for bad grammar and spelling. Today #girlcode was a TT. Joke's on you, Twitter. There's no such thing as girl code. Girls who think they prescribe to any sort of girl code absolutely do not. Girls are mean, vindictive and vicious and the worst part is they do it with a smile. I say "they" and not "we" because in my wild delusions I don't take part in this stupid, petty behavior. I have and I do, but I like to pretend I don't. Anyway, we may not all stick to any sort of girl code, but there is one phrase we all have said more than once. In this era of texting, tweeting, blogging, etc, so much is lost in digital translation. You've all said it, thought it, texted it to someone else:

What did he/she mean by that? 

Whether it's a boyfriend, a guy you like, a girlfriend or a frenemy (a word made up specifically for these "girl code" following a-holes), we've all overanalyzed a text or tweet. Looking for the connotation that fits our needs or convincing ourselves that it couldn't possibly be that, we read and re-read until all the words mean nothing, or until the next text comes in that needs analyzing. I hate this insane behavior. Even fully knowing it's insane, I'm doing it right now. Trying to figure out what the fuck anyone means by anything they say online is enough to make your head spin. But we'll keep doing it. Because we're girls and that's what we do.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Reppin' Some Hoods

Since I've been in Chicago 3 weekends now I've been out in a few different neighborhoods. Wrigleyville, South Loop, Lincoln Park/Lakeview, Wicker Park. Some were fun, some were not. Most of it was more about the occasion and the amount of alcohol that had been consumed rather than about the neighborhood itself. But I'm gonna judge them anyway.

Wicker Park- yuck.

Besides the fact that it's far as hell from where I live, I just flat out did not have a good time in Wicker Park. I had been up since 7 and was really not in the mood to go out, which highly contributed to my sucky time. The other main contributing factor was the shitty time we (my roommate and I) had getting home. Our plan was to take Blue to Red and be home in 30. 30 minutes later we were still on the Blue line platform on Damen waiting for the train while being annoyed to death by what we came to call glitter people- wannabe street musicians covered in glitter, dressed like gypsies and playing accordions, tambourines and bicycles. Yes, instead of using her drumsticks on the wooden platform, one of the female glitter people was using her bike as a drum kit. When we did finally get on the train the glitter people followed us and continued to "play music". To make matters worse, one stop later a herd of art school freshmen who hadn't showered in what smelled like months got on. After suffering jeers and dirty looks for being clean and put-together, my roommate and I got off the train 3 stops before we planned and cabbing home. To put it mildly, I don't plan on trekking to or from Wicker Park any time soon, except to go to Angels and Mariachis. That place is bomb.

South Loop- home sweet home.

Except for the Halloween incident (went to a bar and literally no one else was dressed up- embarrassing to say the least), the South Loop has been amazing. I haven't had a bad meal, drink, or time in my neighborhood. I also happen to live an elevator ride and 4 steps from a bar, which does not make me mad at all. Nothing bad to say, but I am a homer for my hood.

Lincoln Park/Lakeview- deeelicious

We stumbled- literally and figuratively- into a good time here. Jumping lines and cover and lucking into free bottle service adds up to an awesome night. If we hadn't fallen into such an awesome situation the bar we went to would have blown. But DMK is here, so I have to go back multiple times a week.

Wrigleyville- aka Bro-ville

Last but not least, this neighborhood is simultaneously the bane of my existence and everywhere I want to be. It reads like a college town, so it's awesome in that sense. I miss college more than anything and I'll jump at any chance to pretend I'm still at Rick's dancing to Party in the USA. On the other hand, it reads like a college town. Bros and douchebags are rampant, prowling for chicks to take back to their bro-cave and do whatever bros do. It absolutely depends on what kind of a night I'm looking for, but I really haven't had a bad time yet in Wrigleyville.


Bottom Line: Chicago rocks.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Sweet Home Chicago

If you tried to tell me I've only been in Chicago for 10 days I'd laugh in your face and tell you to learn how to count. Turns out that's exactly how long I've been here. I absolutely cannot believe it. It seems like I've lived here for at least a month. I don't know if that means that I've acclimated well to life in the Second City or that I have a terrible sense of time, but it's still mind-boggling. I have eaten deep-dish pizza (sorry, Chicago, but Buddy's beats Lou Malnati's hands down) and a few other Chicago-y things, but there are still a few quintessential Chicago things I haven't done yet that need to happen stat:

1. The Bean.

I've been to Chicago at least a dozen times and I've still never seen the thing. I'm not that mad about it, but I'd at least like to nonchalantly walk by just to say I have.

2. Blackhawks game

I went to a Red Wings-Blackhawks preseason game in Detroit and, through all the chirping and shit-talking, I had an amazing time. I'd love to not be yelled at through a game, so seeing the Blackhawks at home is definitely a priority.


3. Molly's Cupcakes

Maybe not quintessential, but I've heard so much about these goddamn cupcakes I think I need to have one like yesterday. 


There's a few other stupid things on my list, like running through O'Hare like the McAllisters and going to a celeb-chef restaurant (top of my list: Frontera). But for now those are the big 3.

Am I missing anything?

A Thanksgiving Story

I don't know when or how it happened, but Thanksgiving got lost in the shuffle between Halloween and Christmas. This makes me so sad because Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Okay, it's my favorite food holiday. Fine, it's the only food holiday but I still love it. While I'm definitely looking forward to seeing Michigan Ave decorated for the season, I'd be much happier if people would wait 3 weeks to focus on buying presents and decorating their houses in the tackiest way possible. Thanksgiving needs to ball up and tell Christmas to wait until December to take over the airwaves. I understand I'm in the minority on this one. Most of the people I know, including my own mother (I might have to write a post entitled "1000 Reasons I Must Be Adopted"), can't wait to hear Christmas Shoes on the radio and cry for the rest of the day. Maybe I have this mindset because Hannukah's a way more kickass holiday than Christmas could ever dream to be: 8 days of presents, gambling is encouraged (for chocolate money, even better), and fried food is a staple. Anyway, my family's Thanksgiving has changed drastically over the last 5 years with people moving, getting married, having kids, etc. And while I might complain about how it's not the same as it used to be, it's still my favorite (food) holiday and I wouldn't miss it for the world. I can't wait to drive 5 hours, potentially through snow, put on yoga pants, watch the Lions dominate the Packers, and eat shit-tons of delicious food. I might even wake up early and brave Somerset for some Black Friday deals...and maybe do something to burn off the 80 pounds of mashed potatoes I plan on taking down.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

No Shave November? No Problem.

It's a great time of year. Leaves are falling, it's getting cooler outside, it's hockey season, and it's No Shave November aka Movember. Boys and men across the globe stop shaving for a month to look more manly and support various men's health causes. I've heard of women getting involved too, but let's be honest- that's really gross. Anyway I love No Shave November because I love stubble and that's really all most guys my age can manage in a month. In a more girly yet man-faced edition of this blog, here's my top 5 favorite 5 o'clock shadows.

5. Casey Affleck
Ben Affleck's younger brother. Just. I die.

4. Shia LaBeouf
Yes, this is his mugshot. Yes, he'll always be Louis Stevens in my heart. And yes, he has the perfect amount of facial hair.
3. Rick Porcello
I'm a huge Tigers fan and an even bigger Rick Porcello fan. The kid came into the big leagues at age 20 and shocked everyone with his killer sinker and his willingness to throw down with Youk. And he's adorable.


2. Ben Affleck
Big bro's got you beat, Casey. I've always had a thing for Ben, but when he's too clean cut it reminds me of the weird period of time that he was J.Lo's bitch.


1. Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane
Best series of ads ever. But seriously, Tazer's Wolverine-esque mutton chops were so incredible they made me rethink my hatred of all things Wolverine related. Damn, son. 

You may have noticed that there are no blonde guys on here. That's because blonde beards are weird and creepy and shouldn't exist. 


See? Gross. Anyway, besides all the handsomer men out, Movember brings awareness to some great causes, so be sure to visit Movember.com (linked at the top) and donate or participate! 

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Halloweenie, part 3

Last night my roommate devised a theory about guys' Halloween costumes. There are two types: guys who are trying to get laid and guys who are not. After doing some in-depth research on our walk to and from dinner and while walking around Wrigleyville, we came to the conclusion that her theory is completely accurate.  Here are some examples:

Trying to get laid:

1. Athletes
2. Astronauts (believe it or not I saw a few last night)
3. 90s nostalgia. Double Dare, Legends of the Hidden Temple, Quailman, anything that's reminiscent of the best decade of television ever.
4. Athletes. Seriously. I saw so many Blackhawks last night I thought I was at the United Center instead of outside Wrigley Field.
5. Really anything masculine or funny but not in a gross or creepy way

Not trying to get laid:

1. Michael Myers
2. Freddy Krueger
3. Jason
4. Grim reaper
5. Anything scary, involving a mask, or gross.

Then there are the guys who are probably trying to get laid but missed the mark a little. Dress up as a doctor, you might get some. Dress up as a gynecologist and you're kind of a creep.

Happy Halloweekend!

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Finally.

I finally made it. The move is complete. After hours of procrastinating, 2 seasons of The League, an amazing dinner at Slow's and more procrastinating, I left Detroit and made the 4 1/2 hour trek to Chicago. I may not have a bed or any food (yet), but I moved and I'm here for the long term. For right now it still feels like I'm visiting. I mean, I've only been here for like 5 hours. I'm sure that when I mail my first rent check it'll feel more real. woof.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Procrastination is Fun

I cannot pack. It is physically impossible for me to pack at this moment. It's 6 pm and all I've done today is watch an entire season of The League (hilarious, by the way, I highly recommend it) and walk my dog. I'm moving to Chicago in 48 hours, people. I don't know why I have this anti-packing mentality, but it's really starting to get down to the wire. I think I just need to eat dinner, sit on Twitter and watch 3 more hours of The League and I'll be good to go...

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Moving On...

Today is my last day of work and I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. I'm mostly happy to never have to come to this fluorescent-lit Sartrean version of hell again, but I'm partly beyond anxious because I'm about to be broke as a joke.

Alright, that's enough about emotions. Let's talk about SVU. No, seriously, I have a question about Law & Order: SVU. I guess it's not specifically about everyone's favorite cop drama marathon, but cop shows in general. How do they know how to spell every single name? Someone on the phone or across the room will give Olivia Benson a name of a suspect or witness or whatever and she'll type it into the computer and up pops that person, but it's always spelled right. I'm pretty sure there's about 80 ways to spell the name Lauren Summers, but Benson gets it right on the first try. It's something that's always bugged me about the show. I mean, what if it was spelled Lauryn Somers? Would they have ever solved the case? What if it's a guy named Loren Sommers? That's even farther off. I guess it's a weirdly specific pet peeve, but it actually bothers me every single time. But I still watch every Tuesday, so there you go.

Monday, October 17, 2011

I Am Not a Hoarder. I'm Okay (I Promise)

This blog is supposed to be about moving to Chicago, so I'm gonna get back to that for a second.

My move date is rapidly approaching and it seems like the closer it gets, the bigger the pile of shit I have to move gets. If you had asked me a few weeks ago if I was a hoarder or not I'd say abso-fucking-lutely not. Ask me again today. I'm totally a hoarder. I was going through my closet yesterday trying to figure out what can stay in Detroit and what must come with me to Chicago, but I got sidetracked when I found basically my entire K-12 life. Tests, homework, dance trophies, soccer trophies, t-ball pictures, works of art I made at Plaster Playhouse when I was 8, parting gifts from my high school senior all-night party. It was like a time capsule that I didn't even know I buried deep in the abyss that is my closet. Needless to say I spent about two hours looking at all this shit and didn't get an ounce of packing or laundry done. I started to wonder why I kept all of this random, pretty much meaningless stuff (I hate using that word, but I don't know how to better describe a box of barettes made from random household objects. Literally. I wish I had taken a picture of the Bazooka bubblegum barette.). Then I remembered who my mom is: the woman who has boxes of clothes from pre-1985 in our basement, the woman who has a cake topper she never used for her wedding and whose marriage ended in divorce 20 years ago, the woman who kept all of my baby teeth. That's like borderline psychotic behavior. I was instantly scared straight at the thought of simultaneously becoming my mother and a batshit crazy hoarder on a TLC reality show. 5 full garbage bags later I was officially purged of my pre-college self. It might take another few years before I can get rid of all of my MSU sideline passes and the My Chemical Romance poster from my freshman dorm room, but I'm taking baby steps.

Days left until I'm officially a Chicagoan: 9

Halloweenie part 2

Finding the right Halloween costume is always hard. As I mentioned in my previous Halloween post, it is a young woman's reponsibility to have a slutty and sexy, yet funny and original costume. This combination is much harder than it sounds because funny and sexy are inversely related. The Marshall Eriksen-style chart below demonstrates this relationship:


As you can see from this graph that took me entirely too long to make, the sexier a costume is the less funny it is. There's nothing hilarious about a Playboy bunny costume. That shit is 100% slutty/sexy (depending on the girl in it). On the flip side, there's no way to make a Patti Mayonnaise costume sexy without ruining my childhood, so don't do it. Where you want to be is right in that yellow circle, that's the butter zone (Get it? Yellow? Butter?). I tend to lean 70/30 funny to sexy, mostly because I've failed at trying to be more that 30% sexy ever in my life. True story.

Anyway, I advise against going outside of this butter zone for a few reasons. First, being 100% sexy is hard work for anyone except maybe Megan Fox and Kristin Cavallari. They literally wake up sexy. If you're hard at work making sure your fake eyelashes don't fall out and staying upright in your 5-inch stilettos, you're probably not having fun. Second, going too far the other way isn't going to get you any action, and I think we can all agree that's like 85% of anyone's reasoning for going to a bar in the first place. If you're dressed up like Icebox from the Little Giants you're pretty much guaranteed to friend-zone every guy in the bar. Trust me on this, I was Icebox twice, once in 2006 and again in 2010 (I only repeated the costume as a tribute to my Spartans and Coach Dantontio, who was ballsy enough to pull a trick play called Little Giants in OT to beat Notre Dame weeks before). I got a lot of high-fives, but not a lot of love.
Me as Icebox, oozing sex appeal.




Here's the bottom line on Halloween costume choices: have fun. Whether you're dressed as Marilyn Monroe or an M&M, if you're having a kickass time you're doing something right.



Disclaimer: This is a girl's perspective on what guys might think sexy is. Don't be shocked if I'm absolutely wrong, since I have little to no idea what guys actually like. 



Friday, October 14, 2011

Halloweenie part 1

Halloween is the magical time of year when girls get to dress like sluts and no one can say anything bad about them, to paraphrase Mean Girls. As a 23-year-old girl I'm obviously going to be involving myself in that tradition somehow. Every time Halloween comes around, though, I always want to do more than go to the bar in a slutty yet ironic yet hilarious outfit. The problem is I'm an L7 Hallo-weenie (if you don't get the reference we can't be friends). I hate scary stuff. The list of things that scare me is a mile long, and at the top of that list is the general idea of stuff popping out of nowhere. This is why I can't go to haunted houses or see most scary movies. They rely on the "stuff popping out of nowhere" scare tactic heavily, which gives me anxiety and nightmares. Even the trailer for the new Paranormal Activity movie coming out has already given me nightmares. So, AMC, you can keep your Nightmare on Elm Street marathons. And Pontiac, MI, you will not see me anywhere near the "insane asylum" death trap you call a haunted house. This year is going to be different. No, I'm not going to man up and go see that awful Katie Holmes scarefest. I'm not going to a haunted house to punch another Ghostface -this guy, not this guy- in the stomach (yes, that happened. I was 14.). This year I'm going to embrace my Halloweenie-ness. I'm going to watch Halloweentown, eat candy, get drunk and dress like a slut in peace. Thank you.

I'm a mouse. duh.

Welcome to Chicago, Bitch

I had my first real big-city experience on Wednesday. I was in Chicago for a job interview (I know, it's exciting, but I don't want to talk about it and jinx it. I'm a superstitious sports fan. Let it go.) and I was trying to take the red line to Chicago (the street, not the city. duh.). We made it two stops without any drama, but then this girl gets on the train just to ruin my day. Literally. That had to be her purpose in life because she did it so well. We'll call her Bitch A. She gets on mumbling about something when the girl sitting directly across from me, Bitch B, takes offense and starts saying how Bitch A should watch her mouth and other stuff she should do. Bitch A is offended that Bitch B was offended, so, obviously, they need to punch each other. Bitch B did not want to be a part of said punching, so she called the police. Bitch A continued to threaten to end Bitch B's life in a terribly violent way, repeat that she is not afraid of the motherfucking police, and Bitch A's sister held her back from giving Bitch B the beatdown of her lifetime. At the next stop, we sat for what felt like eons and the conductor finally came to see what the fuss was about. By that time Bitch A and her sister had mysteriously left the train. This might all sound very innocent and not blog-worthy, but remember that this all took place about 2 feet from my face. No joke, I was in the splash zone. Welcome to Chicago, Bitch.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Michigan Week

I am a Spartan. I may have graduated from THE Michigan State University (see how annoying that is, OSU?) in 2010, but I will be a Spartan for life. This coming weekend is one of the top 3 hype weekends in a Spartan's year (the other two being St. Patrick's Day and Halloween): the Michigan-Michigan State game. For the past 3 years we've rocked "big brother's" world and changed the Michigan college football landscape. Wolverines around the world have used the lamest excuse known to man to explain the losses: transition period. Anyway, in 5 days, Walmart Wolverines will invade East Lansing and our football team will be forced to lay the smackdown yet again. There will be tailgating, there will be shit-talking, and if last year is any indication there will be some hip checking and girl fights. Today marks the beginning of Michigan Week, which will inevitably end with me drunkenly rapping Superbass in front of too many people. Only the score of the game will determine if there are tears involved or not.

Moving Sucks/Is Awesome

This is going to be the one and only whiny, complainy post dedicated to why moving sucks, because it does. 99.9% of the time I'm amped out of my mind to be moving to Chicago. It's just the other .1% of the time that it absolutely blows, and here's why:

1. I have a teeny tiny car.

I drive a Honda Civic. It gets great gas mileage and for the most part it's an awesome car, but, as you all know, size matters. The trunk on this car is relatively big, but not nearly big enough for an interstate move. Luckily for me IKEA is doing a lot of the heavy lifting. As for the rest of my 23 years' worth of accumulated shit? That's on me and my baby Asian car.

2. I'm really bad at packing.

If you know me at all you already know that I always forget something big. I get really tied up in details, like remembering a specific pair of earrings or floss or the right pair of underwear for each dress I packed. Remembering all these little things prevents me from remembering big, important things, like my phone or tickets. Almost every time I'm responsible for remembering tickets to the concert/sporting event/anything I'm going to, I forget them. It's not even funny. I annoy myself when I do it yet I can't seem to not do it in the first place. Knowing that I do this even gives me anxiety that I'm going to do it, and you would think that would help me remember to do it. But no. Luckily I don't need tickets to move to Chicago, but I do need other stuff that I'm likely to forget. Like pants.

3. When it comes to driving long distances, I'm That Girl.

Normally, I try very hard in my everyday life not to be That Girl. You know That Girl. She overanalyzes texts from her boyfriend, she doesn't want to get dirt under her fingernails, she's a vegetarian this week because Kate Middleton is, etc. That Girl is also known for being extremely annyoing on long car rides, and that's exactly how I get. If it were up to me I'd never drive anywhere if it took longer than like two hours. I'll do it, and I've done it, but it's not cute. I get tired and antsy and my ass gets sore (insert That's What She Said joke here). Metro-Detroit to Chicago is about 4 hours and I'll be making the trip 3 times in 5 weeks. The only thing keeping me from going absolutely bonkers on the drive is knowing that in 2 weeks I'll never be forced to make the drive again. Until Thanksgiving. Fuck.

To counterbalance all the That Girl-esque whining, there are so many reasons why I'm pysched to be moving to Chicago. The actual list is longer than time, so here's a few randomly selected highlights:

1. Not living at home
2. Not living in the suburbs
3. Being able to watch every Blackhawks game
4. The improved possibility of running into Jonathan Toews
5. Not living at home
6. Being able to see Soldier Field and Lake Michigan from my living room
7. Not living at home
8. Bars. So many bars.
9. Boys. So many boys. Ones I didn't go to elementary school/high school/college with.
10. Jamba Juice

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

People always say that alcohol is like truth serum, you say things when you're drunk that you normally wouldn't. I must have some ass-backwards wiring in my brain because when I drink I'm a lie-factory. The funny thing is I'm not a great liar at all, but when I drink they just pour out. I make up entirely different names, backstories, etc. and tell these lies to perfect strangers at the bar. I don't know why I do this crazy nonsense, but I'm guaranteed to do it at least once every time I drink a substantial amount. It's almost like a game for me, trying to think of false answers to people's simple questions. Again, no idea why. So if you see me at the bar telling someone my name is Amanda and I'm from Los Angeles, just don't worry about it.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

My Brain is a Weird, Weird Place

These are the kinds of stupid things that keep me up at night. Last night, after the Tigers sucked it up and couldn't beat the Bronx Bitches, my brain decided it wanted to think of the best movies that included time travel. Don't ask why, it's just the weird stuff that my brain likes to think about while I'm trying desperately to shut it down for the night. Anyway, here's what I came up with:

5. Blast from the Past
Okay, technically this isn't time travel, but it's really the closest anyone could get to travelling to a different time without impossible technology. Plus, Brendan Fraser is amazing in this movie. This was before he did like 8 "Mummy" sequels. He looked a little puffy in that last one, too. Shame.

Fraser


4. Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure
Duh. A hot young Keanu Reeves and that other guy from The Lost Boys? Done and done.
Hotness


3. A Kid in King Arthur's Court
I put this movie on here for almost pure nostalgia value. It came out when I was like 7 and I absolutely loved it. But when I went back to look at who was in it I was absolutely shocked. Kate Winslet, Daniel Craig, and the actor who for some reason dominates my DVD collection: Thomas Ian Nicholas. This guy is everywhere. He was the Rookie of the Year, my favorite character in the American Pie series, and he was all over 90s TV. They apparently did a sequel to this movie called "A Kid in Aladdin's Palace". I'm sure it was amazing.


2. Groundhog Day
I'm really not sure if this qualifies as time-travel, but technically Billy Murray goes back in time 24 hours like a hundred times. Whether it counts as a time travel flick or not, it's one of my top 5 all-time favorites, so it's going on this list anyway.

1. Back to the Future
I was honestly thinking about making this the top 3, listing each part in order from worst to best (which, by the way, is 3, 1, 2. 3 was the old West one, right?), but I couldn't think of enough movies for a top ten, and 3 out of a top 5 is a little obnoxious. This movie, for me, is the quintessential time travelling movie. It has an off-the-wall scientist, an even more off-the-wall time machine, and the always amazing, incredibly adorable Michael J Fox.


This is what I do at night between the hours of 11 and 1. I need a boyfriend. Or a white noise machine.

PS: Blackhawks hockey starts in 2 days and I could not be more stoked about it. Go Hawks!

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

First Post, Extra Sauce

So I'm moving to Chicago and I decided to start a blog about it. Not really about physically moving, that would be one post: "Moving sucks when you drive a Honda Civic." This blog is going to be more about life in general, commenting on stuff, sports, CTA hilarity, etc. Before I start dazzling you all with my wit and humor, I feel like I should introduce myself. I don't know why, but it seems rude not to.

I'm 23, grew up in the suburbs of Detroit and, like I said, am in the process of moving to Chicago. In 2 weeks I'll be unemployed (by choice) which sort of sucks, but I'm working on it, I swear. I love love love sports. Baseball (Tigers), hockey (Blackhawks), football (Lions and Spartans), basketball (Bulls, Spartans), curling, (yeah, curling. I once skipped class in college to watch curling with my roommate but that might have had more to do with the hangover I had than the sport), pretty much anything I can root for I will.  If that makes me a "guys' girl" or "not girly," whatever. I also drink beer and laugh at bathroom humor. I'm a 15 year old boy. Sue me. I have a love/hate relationship with scary movies, and I could live on Ben & Jerry's Late Night Snack, bagels and pasta if it wouldn't make me 345 pounds. That's pretty much me, so...there's that.

Now that I've gotten through a little about who/what I am, here's what this blog won't be. This won't be a diary. I don't do anything that particularly interesting, so I won't bore you with the details of my life unless I like, make out with Patrick Kane at Sluggers or something. I won't talk about boy drama (mostly because it's nonexistent at the moment). I have a roommate, girlfriends, and my mom for that. And I definitely will try not to make annoying spelling mistakes. I know how to use their/they're, then/than, to/too/two and all of the other homonyms or homophones or whatever they are, I just can't remember what they're called.

So, that's what I'm about. Hope you stick around.

PS: Big ups to @MSUBlackSheep for inspiring the name of this blog. Go follow!