Tagged by Thaihoney!! :-) The lovely and talented …

Tagged by Thaihoney!!

The lovely and talented Chariya (aka Thaihoney) tagged me, so I must rise to the occasion. Here goes:

Five items in my freezer:

- A pie crust that I didn’t use on Thanksgiving

- A few pieces of chicken, complete with freezer burn

- Frozen homemade chicken soup — made from scratch by yours truly for those unexpected illnesses

- Lemon bars — bought from Whole Paycheck (Foods) that the BF didn’t especially care for, but that I refused to immediately throw away.

- Cafe du Monde coffee from New Orleans that I keep for guests because I hate coffee

Five items in the closet:

- An endless supply of candles

- A bin simply marked “hardware” that contains all of the odds, ends, and electrical cords that I have no idea of what to do with

- A bin full of yarn for my fabulous knitting creations

- A bin (can you tell that I’m big on bins?) full of toilet paper — because you should always have a healthy supply of TP!

- A labelmaker — to mark the bins, of course!

Five items in the car:

- A kitchen knife (although I don’t know why)

- A three gallon tin of cheese popcorn that I don’t dare bring into this house lest it end up permanently adhered to my ass

- An emergency kit that contains hairspray, hair ties, deodorant, lipstick and tampons (yeah, so what if it’s TMI?)

- A rolling pin. (I found it the other day, and I’m having a REALLY hard time remembering why it’s there. If anyone knows, I’d be happy for the hint.)

- A pair (or three) of comfy shoes

Five items in my purse:

- My new Coach wallet (that I received for Christmas from my friend, C. Thanks, girl!)

- My work ID

- My Blackberry (alias “the ball and chain”)

- My beloved Treo

- My Ipod (Yep . . . ALL ABOUT the technology)

Five people that I tag:

- Jen

- LemonySarah

- Dragonslayer

- The illustrious “Dina Vaginelli“

- Any other blogger that’s checking this out

Thanks, Thaihoney! These are always fun.

Christmas . . . Is over for another year!! Yay!!…

Christmas . . .

Is over for another year!! Yay!!

Actually I had a pretty good Christmas. I can’t complain. I did my typical drop-offs on Christmas Eve, and did my own thing on Christmas, which I loved.

Hung out with the BF, saw a movie, dropped by a friend’s house. It was low pressure, and a lot of laughs.

My parents didn’t really get me gifts. They never do. My mother doesn’t even bother pretending that she’s going to get me anything. My father tries, but he gets me weird gifts, like books that I’ve never heard of, and will probably never read. Of course, I take the hit and pretend as though I love them which, while it makes him happy to think that I love his gifts, it doesn’t really do much to correct this behavior.

He’s really good when I tell him specifically what I want . . .and I’m talking specific down to the SKU, just so that he won’t screw up. The problem is that sometimes I like to be surprised. Although, when it comes to my father, I think that being pleasantly surprisedf by a gift is just a pipe dream. He doesn’t seem to do well on his own.

I got them fabulous gifts. I got my mother tickets to The Color Purple, which won’t be here for a while, but I bought them well in advance. I got my father a Bally’s health club membership. He likes the one in Hyde Park because he went there for a few months while he was rehabilitating his shoulder. Of course the Hyde Park Bally’s is allegedly a “special club,” which means that it costs more. I don’t really know what’s so special about it. I hear tell that it’s considered to be special because of the pool and tennis courts. But maybe they also give you a piece of a towel, or perhaps they actually clean the locker rooms. Whatthefuckever. Just one more reason for me to spend more money. But it doesn’t matter because he loved it. He was there this morning, in fact, activating his membership card, excited to get started on his fitness plan. He’s so cute.

How many days until Christmas is over? I’ve been …

How many days until Christmas is over?

I’ve been shopping all day. And it was the worst kind of shopping — the kind you do when you have no idea what you’re looking for. You wander through stores, desperately looking for something to jump out and say “Pick me! I’m perfect. I’m the thing that your friend will love, and look!! I’m even on sale.” Needless to say that didn’t happen.

After my hair appointment this morning, I went to N. Michigan avenue and began my journey at the Bloomies building.

The first thing I noticed was the overwhelming assortment of suburbanites. They’re easy to spot: 1) They don’t know where they’re going — whether by car or on foot. They stop, confused, in the middle of streets and sidewalks. 2) They’re clearly desensitized to the grit of the city, and wander the streets as though they’re in a mall. They appear to be surprised by homeless people, and the liberal use of the ‘F’ word by passersby. 3) Generally, they’re not dressed very well. A few of them are even wearing those dreaded Christmas sweaters — the red and green creations that feature pictures of their favorite pagan rituals. Fashion heresy.

I ventured over to the Water Tower, which has been ruined by the advent of Macy’s — yep, I’m a Marshall Field’s snot, and I will mourn the loss of that store forever, as any other self-respecting Chicagoan will. I went into C.O. Bigelow and bought a bunch of stuff that was on sale. I don’t really know why.

I even went to Filene’s Basement, which is usually too disorganized for my taste. Found yet another thing for myself, but opted against buying it. Bag whore that I am, it was a $700 Bottega Veneta tote. It was slightly appealing because it was reduced from $1300, and an attractive additional 25% off. When the haze cleared I realized that it wasn’t a good idea, and left it there. Even though it would have looked SO cute with my brown shearling.

I met up with my friend A., which was actually the best part of the day, and we hung out for a few hours.

Then, I was back to my same dilemma, which was what the hell to buy for the two last people on my list. I resorted to the most wonderful creation in the history of Christmas — the gift card. It’s a beautiful thing.

I went to another store that I can’t mention to get a gift that I can’t discuss on this blog. Not that this person will read it, but just in case. This person actually avoids my blog on purpose, but that’s a completely different story. While in this mystery store, I ran into a guy that I know socially. I run into him semi-annually, in the strangest places. I originally met him through a grammar school friend, then he dated one of my friends. They broke up and now, several years later, he’s married. Every time I ask him how married life is treating him, he sighs and says “It’s married life.”

We’ve had this conversation before, he and I, and it never seems to be any better than mediocre for him. He says that his fellow married friends share his sentiment. He advised me not to get married (not that I’m in danger of going in that direction). We chatted a few more minutes and parted ways. After we left, I became (even more) depressed. Is it worse to be in a mediocre relationship or alone? I guess it depends on what you’re looking for, or your definition of a “good life.” I’m sure there are a lot of people who are living every day in lukewarm or bad relationships, and I’ll bet those people have a really hard time during the holidays. But I tried not to think about that too much. Back to Christmas shopping . . .

After that, I went to Bally’s to procure a far-more-expensive-than-it-should-have-been membership for my father. The good news is that he’ll love it. One thing I know for sure this Christmas.

How did THIS happen? Christmas completely snuck u…

How did THIS happen?

Christmas completely snuck up on me and I’m extremely unappreciative. I don’t know how this happened, especially since we’ve been inundated with obnoxious Christmas music and displays since the day after Halloween — the earliest that I can remember.

Not to be a curmudgeon, but Christmas isn’t very enjoyable. Well . . . at least the days leading up to Christmas aren’t fun. I seem to dispense a LOT of cash of gifts that may or may not be well received.

And the thing is that I don’t even care if I receive gifts. I’d almost prefer not to. If there’s ever a time to find out how well your friends/family DON’T know you, it’s Christmas.

My parents give me horrible presents. From my dad, I’ve received more random books than I can count. Books that I would have never, never, never in life selected. They are usually books that my father thinks I should read, or that he would like for me to read (like the boring business variety). My mother gives me a lot of clothing that I would never wear. And it’s never wrapped. She always pulls the item out of a random shopping bag and, after I’ve held it up to myself with a weird expression on my face, she says “That’s your Christmas present.”

Fortunately they’re good at following direct instruction, so I will occasionally give them a specific wish list, at which point my father will take me shopping to procure the exact item that I’ve identified, which sort of puts a damper on the mystery of Christmas.

I’ve received perplexing gifts from friends that I know were purchased in the 11th hour, out of exhaustion, after racking their brains to figure out what I would like that I haven’t already bought for myself. Believe me . . . that’s a short list. They finally throw their hands in the air, and say “Fuck it. I’m sure she’ll love this Lady Stetson gift set.” I pretend to — having been trained since the age of four to be a gracious gift recipient, whether or not I like the gift — and they’re none the wiser.

And let’s not even discuss boyfriend gifts. When we were dating, one of my exes gave me a pair of gym shoes. Why? Because he hated the shoes I wore during my work commute. I loved how my gift was all about him.

Come to think of it, that same ex managed to redeem himself by giving me the daintiest little ring from Tiffany. No, not THAT kind of ring. It was just a simple silver Elsa Peretti ring. I kept it for a long time — years after we broke up. It seemed somewhat symbolic when I accidentally dropped the ring down the drain. But I digress . . .

These are the reasons that I try to convince people not to buy me things.

I, on the other hand, am a great gift giver. I put my photographic memory to use, and during the year, I’m taking note of all of the things that my friends admire or express an interest in. My friends usually love my gifts. The only person who doesn’t find my gifts to be thoughtful is my mother, who is never satisfied with anything. I dread shopping for her. It’s kind of hard to get excitement around giving a gift to a person whose first reaction is: “why did you buy me THAT?”

I take comfort in the knowledge that, this time next week Christmas will be over, and I’ll be back to shopping for myself!!

The company Christmas party . . .Was executed with…

The company Christmas party . . .

Was executed without any disorderly drunken moments by yours truly.

I can’t take a lot of the credit for it. I honestly didn’t feel so well at the onset of the dinner, and wasn’t optimistic that I would be able to make it through. Tylenol came to the rescue, and I was a new woman. I defied all medical common sense by having a few hot tea and brandies, which made me feel even better — for several reasons. I felt so much better, in fact, that I had every intention of following up the hot-totty with a Maker’s rocks. The universe intervened, however, and our server was inexplicably absent from our area for an extended period of time.

New column and . . . The new column released tod…

New column and . . .

The new column released today, and it’s all about doing the right thing. CHECK IT OUT!!!

And . . . I hate to admit this, but I threw up in my car this morning. Yep, I sure did.

This has almost happened to me many times in the past. I’ve narrowly escaped barfing on the bus in the past, which would have been infinitely more embarrassing.

I’m one of those people who takes a handful of vitamins, etc., and chugs down a large glass of water as I have one foot out of the door to go to work. Sometimes, the pills don’t agree with me, and sometimes I don’t drink enough water. I think I had both things working against me this particular morning, because somewhere around Clark and Roosevelt, I felt an uncontrollable urge to purge — if ya know whut I mean!

This could have been a true disaster. First, I was wearing my ultra-gorgeous fur coat (and I don’t want to hear any shit about wearing fur. I rescue animals, for Chrissake, so give me a freakin’ break!) AND, today’s my company Christmas party, so it would have been terribly inconvenient to smell like half-digested vitamins (nice thought, right?)

What saved me was my car-bage can. I love this thing!! It looks like a portable coffee cup, and even fits in the coffee cup dispenser, but it’s really a small garbage can where I throw dumb things like parking receipts and lollipop sticks (I love lollipops). Fortunately, nothing was occupying the cup this morning, because I certainly found a use for it.

I was proud of myself. It was seamless, and not even remotely sloppy. I felt the urge; kept perfect wheel alignment with my left hand, while holding the cup in my right. I even had the presence of mind to scream obscenities at the jackass who was driving the 12-child-toting, dirty, white urban assault vehicle (i.e. minivan) and thought it was appropriate to pull out in front of me while driving 15 miles an hour. If I can maintain my road rage, I’m all good!

That said, now I’m feeling great, my clothes are unsoiled, and I vow to drink an extra glass of water to wash down my 15 vitamins the next time. More importantly, I’m ready to start the day of partying.

Washcloths — Mystery solved! So, apparently, I …

Washcloths — Mystery solved!

So, apparently, I was actually supposed to receive the washcloths. After my inquiry to customer service yesterday, I received this response:

Hello Gina,

There should have been a note in the packing slip with information regarding the samples sent to you. When ever we receive free samples from a manufacturing partner we typically arrange for them to be shipped to customers purchasing other items from our eBay store. In your case when you purchased the XXXXXXXXXXX, we happened to have samples available which we shipped to you along with about 35 other customers. It was no mistake that you received them.

Regards,

Customer Service

I guess I’m the proud owner of two yellow washcloths. Nice to receive a freebie! And also nice to know that my actual package is on its way.

Online Shopping et al Seems as though my online …

Online Shopping et al

Seems as though my online holiday shopping has gone a bit haywire. I ordered a gift for someone (and I can’t say what it is just in case said person decides to take a gander at this blog), and in it’s stead, received two yellow washcloths. Just washcloths. I’m left wondering who might this order really belongs to, and even more important: who orders two washcloths? I could understand a set of towels, but TWO WASHCLOTHS? Odd.

Regardless, now I have to straighten this out, and I’m unhappy at the prospect of having to mail back the two washcloths (which I will gladly do, especially since they are yellow with butterflies, which will not match the color schemes of any of my bathrooms), and hoping that the actual gift that I ordered actually arrives sometime before Christmas. Besides, I’m sure that somewhere, someone is pining over their lost washcloths. Then again, maybe not.

Big movie weekend — saw Apocalypto AND The Holidays. I liked them both — obviously for different reasons. The Holidays was the ultimate chick flick, and Apocalypto was gory, but a great story — not for the squeamish. As I did in Turistas, I found myself looking away from the screen during the bloody parts.

Other that, work, work, more work, and trying to figure out how I’m going to take a few days off around Christmas.

Here’s something to ponder - I’m convinced that a woman that I work with wears a toupee. Something to ponder . . .

New column today!!!! I love Friday! Not only …

New column today!!!!

I love Friday! Not only is it the last day of the work week, it’s garbage day at Casa de la Gina B., AND it’s column day. YAY!!

This week, it’s all about the art of forgiveness in a relationship. CHECK IT OUT!

Feeling MUCH better . . . And it’s a good thing…

Feeling MUCH better . . .

And it’s a good thing, because being sick doesn’t agree with me.

Had a great time with Jen and Fletch last Saturday night. Apparently they had a chimney “mishap” the day before (which means that their chimney imploded, and their house was filled with noxious gas, unbeknownst to them), so they decided that we would go out to eat. They chose Flatwater, which is on the Chicago River. It was a very tasty meal, despite the fact that I had to be judicious about my selection, based on my recent stomach issues. I selected a pasta with prawns, which wasn’t within the BRAT diet, but definitely more bland than any of the entrees I could have selected. And I frowned while watching Jen savor her chocolate/peanut butter brownie, since my two favorite things are chocolate and peanut butter. Damned stomach illness!!!

I watched the Billboard Music awards the other night. They were nothing short of appalling. I’m showing my age here, but it used to be that musical acts were actually that, and their musicians were the most important elements of their performance (what a concept!). Now? As long as you have your posse or stunning array of hoochie mamas, you’re good to go. You don’t even have to pack your singing voice. Oops . . . do ya even HAVE a singing voice???

Speaking of which, let’s discuss the wonderment that is Fergie for a second, shall we? She’s in a sweet spot, don’tcha think? She’s apprehended the nickname of the Duchess of York, and even refers to herself as “The Duchess.” She makes references to Britain in her song, although nobody knows quite what it means: “How come every time you come around, my London, London Bridge wanna go down.” WTF?

Now, if I were the REAL Duchess — and I’m referring to Sarah Ferguson, in case you’re not up on your royals — I would be offended that a bony American skank was bastardizing my identity. But that’s just me. And, as usual, I digress . . .

Back to the Billboard awards. Fergie “sang” her newer song, which I believe is called “Fergalicious.” (Because, apparently, she’s tasty)

Aside. . . Has anyone noticed a theme in her “music?” From the two songs that have been played to death on the radio (and we can only hope that our agony will end with those two songs), we’ve heard messages along a few different themes:

1. I’m hot

2. The boys want me

3. I’m a lady

4. I’m hot

5. I like to drink and dance suggestively

6. But I’m not a ho

7. No, seriously, I’m not a ho

8. Look at me, wearing a napkin and shaking my ass!!

9. I’m a LADY!!! Would you PLEASE stop calling me a ho???

10. Have I mentioned that I’m hot?

Her performance consisted mainly of her standing in one spot, propped up precariously on CFM pumps, and carefully rapping with a few intermittent painful moments of singing. She didn’t really move, and I can’t decide if it was because she was concentrating on delivering such complex lyrics as:

“I just wanna say it now I ain’t tryin to round up drama little mama I don’t wanna take your man
And I know I’m comin off just a little bit conceited and I keep on repeating how the boys wanna eat it”

. . . or if her shoes were killing her.

Either way, she was killing ME! Give it a rest, for all of our sakes!

And then we had Gwen Stefani. Oh dear God!

Now, let me be clear. I used to love No Doubt, and even liked Gwen through her last album. But THIS album? That girl is clearly on dope and dog food. Since when has it been appropriate to sample “The Lonely Goatherd” from The Sound of Music, and use the formerly cute yodelling chorus to annoy the masses? Newsflash, Gwen. Yodelling is not now, nor will it ever be cool. And seriously? Never in your wildest dreams (or nightmares) will yodelling be acceptable to bump to in a club. Period.

More insights later. I’m all worked up!