I’m in reality heaven

Project Runway debuted tonight! Yay!! I’m so excited mainly because I didn’t realize it was starting. I looked at my TiVo roster for the day, and voila! There it was. A brand new season premiere episode of Project Runway with lots of attitudinal designers. I can’t wait to watch them all systematically tear their asses with the judges. If I were the perky type, I would squeal with glee. But me? Not so much.

Recently I’ve realized just how perky I’m NOT. Largely because I work with the perkiest of the perky. They’re very sweet but, frankly? All that perkiness gets on my freakin’ last nerve. Especially in the morning.

I’m the weird kind of morning person that can get a ton of shit done, but really doesn’t want to be spoken to. I hate making idol chit-chat in the morning. Starbuck’s in the morning drives me nuts. If it weren’t for my latest addiction — the Spinach Feta wrap — I wouldn’t visit.

BTW, The Spinach Feta wrap is pure deliciousness.

Okay, so this isn’t the most appetizing picture, but I guarantee that it’s tasty. Not advertised in the title of the item are the sundried tomatoes, which really make the flavor of this wrap. Yummy.

The trouble is that, when you get a cooked item in Starbuck’s, they ask for your name so that they can bellow it at the tops of their lungs when it’s ready (as opposed to just finding the person standing eagerly beside the counter with her arm extended).

There are a couple of perky workers in this Starbuck’s. I’ve blogged about this before. There used to be one principal perky man, and now there’s another. They have quite a bit in common. They’re both black, they both have voices that carry and resonate, and they both enjoy talking too much while they’re working (thus slowing the movement of the line), making small talk that nobody wants to engage in at 7:30 am.

To add insult to injury, I’m such a creature of habit that they’ve now become accustomed to my near-daily spinach feta wrap order, and feel the need to comment every morning. “You must be jonesing for that wrap!” “Getting your usual this morning?” “Ready for that wrap?”

In and of itself, these aren’t bad things. They think they’re making their customers feel at home, which has been proven to solidify a customer base. I totally get it.

But I’m kinda weird. And I prefer anonymity. If they notice that I’m ordering a spinach feta wrap every day, I almost wish they’d shut up about it.

It’s not that deep, though. The second that I leave Starbucks with my hot steamy wrap, I forget all about the perky Starbuck’s boys, because that’s when the real stress begins.

At least I don’t eat my wrap in the bathroom.

New column and another nasty bathroom violation

Another column released yesterday. It’s about men who secretly date other men. Click here to check it out. Be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

So . . . a few posts ago, I wrote about Nasty Bathroom Girl who puts her food on the floor of the stall while she relieves herself (I nearly threw up just writing that). Well . . . the other day I went into the bathroom and heard crunching coming from one of the stalls.

Crunching, like eating chips.

In fact, it WAS a person eating chips. I looked on the floor of the closed stall — hoping that I wouldn’t see what I did, which was an OPEN BAG of chips laying there. I never received confirmation — because I got the hell out of there ASAP — but the person in there was probably Nasty Bathroom Girl — because who else would think it was a good idea to idea while taking a dump???

WTF???

home sick today

I’m breaking my impeccable record by having to remain home today and nurse my illness. I’m not happy about it, and I’m working anyway. I felt that, if I continued to go at my pace, I would end up with some nasty form of pneumonia, which would REALLY suck.

So, here I am . . .

I’m contemplating defrosting some of my famous chicken soup that I reserved for these very occasions, but I’m too damned lazy. Isn’t that pathetic?

Nap time.

it’s official

I have a full-blown cold with all the trimmings - runny nose, aches, pains, you name it. I’m an unhappy girl. And I have SO much work to do, dammit!!!!

active ingredient, my ass!

So, I’m somewhat sick. Translation: I don’t have a runny nose or fever, but I’m coughing a lot and I feel a bit of congestion in my chest. I went to the local (ghetto) Walgreen’s to look for a remedy.

The thing to know about me is that I have no fear of generic brands that have the same active ingredient. If it contains the same percentage and it’s $3 cheaper, why not? I’m sick so infrequently that it hardly matters, right? Yeah . . . not so much.

I was reading the boxes, trying to determine which would be the right medicine for me.

Do I have a runny nose, fever, sinus irritation? Nope

Do I have a sinus headache combined with chest congestion and a cough. Almost, but not quite.

Do I have watery, itchy eyes with a runny nose, fever and chills? No. Thank God.

Do I need a drowsy formula? Hell no.

Am I light-headed with extreme hunger and a desire to laugh at things that aren’t funny? Translation: am I high? No. But at this point, I wouldn’t mind.

Finally I found the right formula: cough with chest congestion.

Right next to the Robitussin, I found the Walgreen’s product. Same symptoms, same active ingredient, $3 less. Bingo.

Well . . . now I’m home, and I took this other (inferior) Tussin product, and I’ve decided that I need the Robi, because something is awry with my Tussin. Whatever the hell is in Tussin, it apparently needs the Robi to get the wellness party started.

Not only have I notstopped coughing, but I think I’ve coughed more in the last hour than I have all day. There’s a rumble in my chest so loud that it scared Phoebe, who was trying to sleep peacefully on my left (serves the little brat right for meowing in my face in the morning, but I digress . . . ).

I have no idea how I’m going to sleep tonight. Do you know what lack of sleep means? That’s right . . . more sickness.

WTF?? No more Tussin for me. It’s Robi all the way.

Weeds

Does anyone watch Weeds? I love that show. My favorite line from tonight’s show –

“You’re fucked like a stray dog in Chinatown.”

Ha!

sugar + liquor = helluva hangover

As a young adult, my father told me that I should drink liquor as close to straight as possible. The mixers are what kills you, he said.

And no, my father was not trying to create a burgeoning alcoholic. He’s a musician, and if he doesn’t know, who does? He was merely trying to minimize my hours of misery after partying. Like everyone else, I had my fill of wine coolers in my early drinking days, and learned my lesson on several occasions after suffering from hours of drinking fruity concoctions.

In recent years I’ve taken his advice to heart. I either drink vodka tonics (very little tonic, and lots of lime), wine, or Maker’s Mark (yep, I said it. And I drink it neat.)

Last night, I violated my policy. I went to a house party, where there was a menu of pre-mixed drinks. They were fruity with plenty of mixers, liqueurs and — yikes! — grain alcohol. They weren’t offering anything outside of this menu, so I reluctantly asked for a cup of punch.

BTW, the last time I went to a party where there was a pre-made punch, I alarmed other guests by walking into the kitchen and saying “Oh, there’s punch? Cool!! Who brought the Rohypnol??” I spent the rest of the night referring to it as “date rape punch,” which thrilled the host. What? I was joking!! Jeez! But I digress . . .

I nursed the punch for a while. It was WAY too sweet, not highly tasty. After 1/2 cup, I abandoned it for a glass of water. But the damage was already done.

Later, I flirted my way to a bootleg vodka w/sprite. The quasi bartender made it especially for me, and I drank it, even though I would have preferred tonic. Another bad move. Sprite = sugar.

I was totally rocked, and ended up exchanging flirty text messages with a person with whom I have a great deal of sexual tension. I think I passed out before his last message was delivered. I’m sure he thinks I’m insane.

So, woke up this morning with a raging headache. I NEVER get hangovers, so I’m a big baby whenever I do. I refused to get out of bed, and wasted the day, which pissed me off. I’m a “make hay when the sun is shining” type of gal. I even missed my brunch, although I could have completely used the pancakes. I rotate between a group of girls for brunch, and I totally missed my rotation, which means that I’m thrown off for about month.

Lesson learned — lay off the mixed drinks!! Dad was right, as always.

I’ve succumbed . . .

. . . to Facebook!

My name is Gina Bee. Find me, and friend me up!

Lunch options

Okay, so I work in the Sears Tower. What I find interesting is that the Sears Tower is arguably in the top 5 of the most recognizable buildings in the country, and yet, limited lunch options. WTF???

Here are our choices:

1. Starbuck’s. I’m not so excited about lunch at Starbuck’s. If I’ve ever had lunch from Starbuck’s, it was only because I was starving and needed to grab something quick. Not exactly a destination.

2. Corner Bakery (read: Corner Robbery). Home of the most expensive fast food. Ever since they phased out my favorite Black Bean soup, I’ve been less than a fan.

3. Venice Cafe. I will say that they’re good in a pinch, when you’re looking for a slice of pizza, or other decadent meal that you know damned well you shouldn’t be eating (e.g. baked ziti, and chicken parm — just say no). I do enjoy their grilled tuna sandwich, however, with all of that Italian dressing, I’m sure it’s not even close to healthy.

4. Salseria. Good when you feel like actually going to a restaurant and sitting down (and indulging in fattening chips). If I’m getting takeout, I go a block and a half down the street to Taco Fresco, the sister establishment of Salseria. Same food, healthier options, less dinero.

5. Augustino’s. This deli resides in the old Mrs. Levy’s space. It’s okay. Just okay. Not a lot of ways to fuck up turkey pastrami. The turkey burgers leave a lot to be desired.

6. Uncommon Cafe. They opened last month. It seemed so promising, with large signs that inform the patrons that there are no trans fats in their food. Perhaps, as the name suggests, it would be an uncommon restaurant with uncommonly good food. Finally, something I could sink my teeth into — literally.

But, no. LOTS of problems with this place.

First of all, as you walk in the door, you see the sushi buffet. SUSHI BUFFET?? Sorry, but there are a few foods that shouldn’t be served buffet-style, and sushi is one of them. In fact, sushi is first on that list. The only things that could rank higher than sushi are things that we know we should never eat, like raw chicken breast and warm, old mayo. I’ll even go so far to say that if sushi is on the menu, it should be a primary offering — I’m only comfortable if those chefs specialize in sushi. (One of my coworkers sent out a mass message to inform us that the sushi from there wasn’t very good, and in fact made him queasy. Gee, genius, THAT’S a big freakin’ shock! Forget about the salmon maki — why don’t you just get in line for salmonella in front of the tomato-eaters of last week [like myself!])

In the center of the room, there’s the hot food bar. For a certain amount per pound (can’t recall how much), you can get your fill of mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, baked fish basking in oil, and other breaded, buttery tasties glistening with a greasy sheen. I also noticed that the people lined up to eat there are usually out-sized. No sirree.

The salad bar is limited with no real protein options. I’m not excited about tuna salad draped over my spinach leaves, so I take a pass altogether.

Then there’s the stir-fry bar. The most promising of them all. How could anything go wrong with a bowl of veggies, a protein option, light sauce and a wok? Sounds great, right? I thought so, too. Until I spied the cook DEEP FRYING the vegetables before putting them in the wok. That was a HUGE WTF moment. Why don’t I just come out of red meat retirement and scarf a Big Mac and supersized fries??? Excuse me, but, aside from taste, isn’t health the major benefit of a stir-fried meal? So, why? Why, why, why would you immerse the healthy fresh vegetables into a big vat of nasty-assed OIL????? The same oil, mind you, that’s used to fry fish (fish that probably came straight from the toxic Chicago River). Please explain the logic, because I don’t really know what to do with this information. And then they have the NERVE to advertise their lack of trans fats. Their fat doesn’t have to ‘trans’ anything — it goes DIRECTLY for the ass. Needless to say, we’re no longer patronizing Uncommon Cafe, which is uncommonly unhealthy.

7. Dunkin’ Donuts. I’m not even going to consider this a lunch spot. I call it an unhealthy establishment that taunts me all day, every day with the prospect of sweets right in my very own building. They opened last week, and so far I’ve managed to avoid using the ‘free donut’ coupon that was handed to me by a giant walking latte. One thing I can say — a donut is probably far less fattening than the stirfry!

Sex et al

Things have been a bit crazy lately (translation: too much socializing), so sincere apologies for the negligence in blogging.

First of all, SATC was awesome! I’m assuming that most people have seen it already, so I don’t feel bad giving a few spoilers. If you haven’t seen it, and plan to, skip the next paragraph.

I was kind of disappointed that Samantha wasn’t whoring it up — although at 50, should one really be whoring it up? (I see my distant future and it ain’t pretty. ) And if I were Miranda, I don’t know if I could be forgiving of Steve. And yes, I know, they had challenges — a dreary sex life, she’s very much a work horse, and a child that’s, ahem, aesthetically challenged. But still . . .

The circumstances under which I saw the show, however? Not so much. One of my dear girlfriends was SO excited for this movie that she bought tickets weeks in advance. However, my friend, the planner, didn’t plan on drinking about 27 cocktails before the show. She called 1/2 hour before the movie, slurring, clearly unable to attend, but she had the presence of mind to dictate her credit card number so that I could give it to the befuddled ticket sales clerk and claim my ticket from will call. Fortunately, I ran into her other friends, who I don’t know so well, but were kind enough to take me in.

Then, there was the fact that River East 21 Theatre was a MADHOUSE. For those who don’t know, River East 21 Theatre is a nerve center located in the trendy Streeterville area of downtown Chicago. Across from the box office is a bowling alley - Lucky Strike — and they sponsored a VIP party for SATC goers. I think it included a few cocktails, a red carpet entrance, and a ticket (translation: racket). It attracted 20-somethings from everywhere. I suspect the majority of them were from the suburbs.

They were encouraged to dress as their fave SATC character, and . . . seriously? I’ve never seen more bad fashion in my life. Faux Manolos and Forever 21. Yeesh!

And as annoying as they looked, they were even more annoying by behavior. Think I’m exaggerating? Let me provide a few sound bytes:

In line: “Oh My God!! Can you BELIEVE I drank 5 Cosmos? I hope I can make it through the movie without peeing in my pants.” Charming.

In the theater: “Can your group move down three? We have a party of 8 and it’s important that we all sit together.” No! We deliberately chose these seats in the center, and we did that how? That’s right, because we were ON TIME!

Same group of 8, before start of show to person in front of them: “Excuse me? Do you mind taking our picture?” Clearly, you need to get out of the house more frequently.

Fortunately, the movie made all of this dumb-bitchery disappear. It was awesome.