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!