aimee mannificent

the concert was wonderful. i had never been to the skyline stage at navy pier before, and it really is a wonderful venue. it seats a good number of people, and yet it still comes off as feeling intimate. chris even enjoyed himself as well, despite seeing a billboard on the way into the city that proclaimed, "everybody hates chris." what a horrible way for him to find this out.

we had drinks afterwards at one of the restaurants on the pier, then drove marcia and mark back to their car. once at home, chris went to bed and i stayed up watching an absolutely awesome movie that i had never heard of before. "rick" is currently one of the free movies comcast ondemand is offering, and it was dark, funny, well-written, and riddled with the kind of subtle ironies that require a second viewing, just to make sure you didn't miss something when you blinked. i recommend it to all.

today is the kind of lazy, sleepy day off that i haven't had in months and months, and i'm loving every mother freaking minute of it. i think i'll have a spoonful of cream cheese and then take a nap.

cue "eye of the tiger"... now!

i need to get my ass in gear and get in shape. it's not that i need to lose weight; i just need to bulk up and be able to kick some ass at next week's jello wrestling contest. also, not losing breath from walking around the grocery store, or bending to pick up a nickel. i don't bend to pick up pennies. only nickels and the occasional discarded scratch-&-win. you just never know.

i've been thinking alot about what kind of exercise program i'd like to start. the apartment complex has a fitness center that i've never used; i wonder if i should start using it. i'm so finicky about exercising in a public place with other people. what if the machines are sweaty? what if i suffer from social embarrassment due to falling off the stationary bike? what if i spill water all over the weights? what if i look down while in the middle of using a treadmill and realize that i'm fully naked? it's too much stress for me to handle.

i think i will start jogging. but what if i jog a mile from home and then can't build up the strength to get back? will i die on the side of the road wearing ill-fitted shorts and, for some reason, the kind of forehead sweatband that bricklayers wear?

i would like to purchase my own workout equipment, but, let's be serious. i'm unwilling to spend cash on a haircut; i'm going to go out and drop a couple hundred for an ab cruncher? doubtful. it might be a good investment, though- i've been looking for a new place to drape my jeans.

or, somebody could build me a treadmill- much like this news article here. first they get all the peanuts, now this.

coatless and loving it

hello, spring. my name is jackie. it's been so long, perhaps you don't remember me.

easter yesterday was a disaster. my mother was in rare form, and, long story short, i gave her a passionate "fuck you" on the way out the door. in front of my grandmother. it wasn't the classiest retort i could think of, but at least i got my point across. at the age of 24, i am still looking into being adopted. if you are a nice, normal woman willing to spend quality time with a young woman, maybe take her shoe shopping and make pies for her from time to time, please consider calling me.

at least saturday was pleasant enough. my superstar carole was in town, and we hit some lincoln park bars with chris' sister. i think a good time was had by all, despite all of the drunken boys in their orange illini gear. why does team spirit disgust me so much? why do i get aggravated by sports nuts? why are sports nuts not acceptable, but beer nuts and pine nuts are so... good?

i'm not in the mood for much of anything today, even though the weather is like southern florida... minus about twenty degrees, but still. i'll take what i can get.

heavenly halves

a coworker and i are considering going into business together. there's a local strip club called "heavenly bodies" where a 'dancer' can make up to five hundred bucks per night in tips. i will be the heavenly bottom, and she will be the heavenly top. come for my butt, stay for her boobs.

i really tried to think of another word besides "come," but "arrive for my butt" just didn't do it for me.

bay area

this weekend, the cheese and i headed off to door county to occupy his former boss' country home for a few days. it was great; for two days, we were homeowners- with a hot tub, a three car garage, and a freezer full of beef.

things about our trip worth mentioning:

* the awful directions his boss gave us. "57 goes left, 42 goes right. three lights later, make a right." hmm. if 57 goes left and 42 goes right- which way do we go?? "continue over new bridge." how the hell am i supposed to know when this bridge was built?

* his boss' gorgeous house, located in the middle of a forest, in the kind of setting usually reserved for horror movies involving a bunch of co-eds who end up hacked to bits by chainsaw murderers.

* the fact that we brought dirty laundry as to use their washing machine- a luxury when you live in apartment buildings.

* jack and chris' belgian bar, located in sturgeon bay. we are considering buying this bar, for obvious reasons. we are also unable to buy this bar, for obvious reasons. like money. and the fact that it's in door county.

* the delicious salmon dinner we prepared on sunday evening.

* the heavy, artery clogging breakfast we ate on sunday morning.

* our stop in port washington, wisconsin, tv home of "step by step" - and the incessant singing of said theme song.

* the realization that the green bay packers are not simply a team- but a way of life.

for such a low key trip, i really had a great time. that's what a vacation should be- an escape from home with no real agenda. add a bottle of wine, a fireplace, and a hot tub, and let the laughter and witty banter ensue.

small intestines with large importance

chris had a rather severe belly ache the other night, and now i'm on a maternal rampage to overhaul our diets. this is partially due to the fact that i have also been experiencing my fair share of stomach problems lately. either we've both contracted a stomach virus from some bad chicken nuggets (remember the dollar store bag of chicken nuggets?) or it's just an agglomeration of poor food finally, simultaneously, deteriorating our stomach linings. either way, the multi-vitamins, fresh fruit, and "lotsa fiber for a more satisfying poop" cereals are now out on our kitchen countertops in full force, a veritable army of depressingly healthy foodstuffs.

last night, after utilizing one of the few recipes i can concoct without having a psychotic episode due to too many measuring spoons or having to dirty more than one bowl, i sliced up a pear for desert. neither chris nor myself could commit to a whole pear, and so we shared one. it tasted like fifth grade, like a brown bag lunch, like the moment you realize you're the only one eating fruit while all of your friends have cupcakes and candy. we were down to one last pear slice, and, convinced that chris' more severely aggravated tummy needed it more than mine, i told him to eat it.

"i'm full," he replied.

"just eat it," i pushed.

"i'm full," he replied.

"it's just a small slice."

"I'M FULL!" he screamed, to which i responded, "well, i'll just leave it right here for you." then i passed him his vitamin.

i am certain that, after about three days of better eating, we will both be as good as new, except for our nerves, which will be raw and frayed.

when irish eyes are drinking

i have a strong dislike for st. patrick's day. this is one holiday that has been deified for no good reason, as far as this italian girl is concerned. it's not that i have anything against the irish- it's quite the opposite. the irish are a good, strong, family-oriented people who have brought us not only shephard's pie, but an invigorating green soap and the lucky charms leprachaun, who, in return, brought us lucky charms. they are magically delicious.

i like to blame several grade school teachers for cultivating my distaste for this day, and those teachers know who they are. the fact that every classroom had to be adorned with big, glossy four leaf clovers was one thing. that, i could handle. it's the cheerful insistence that, on this day, everybody is irish is what really got to me. we're not all sicilian on st. joseph's day. martin luther king jr day rolls around, and we're not all black for a day. rosh hashanah pops up, and the star of david isn't up on the chalkboard while the teacher makes her students add "stein" to their name for a day. that's one of my teeth-grinding memories of st. patrick's day at my elementary school- everyone had to add an "o" or a "mc" to their name for a day. it was ri-goddamn-diculous, and it still boils my blood to think about it.

what i do like about st. patrick's day is that it's a day in the middle of march set aside solely for mass consumption of alcohol. what i don't like is seeing every asshole and their mother walking around with green glitter splotched all over their german or hispanic faces. speaking of hispanic, let's talk about cinco de mayo. there's a day i really can embrace, basically for the same "let's get drunk" reasons as st. patrick day. but, the difference here is that the general population is not crazy go nuts on pretending to be mexican on this particular day. cinco de mayo does not prompt grade school teachers to have everyone add an "ez" to the end of their last name. there's no face glitter involved. the bars are crowded- but not annoyingly packed- and not everyone is wearing the same color t-shirt. it's not even eleven am yet, and if i have to look at another green shirt, i'm going to barf.

anyhow, that's my rant for today. say what you will about me- but i will hold steadfast to my beliefs. and isn't that embracing the true spirit of olde st. patty?

gasless in illinois

i ran out of gas yesterday in the busy intersection of a two lane highway, successfully blocking up traffic for close to forty minutes until the tow truck came with the five gallon container of gas and the bill for fifty bucks. this was highly damaging to my reputation of being diligent about these sorts of things, but, in my defense, the 'check gages' light never went on. i wanted to scream this out the window to those irritated drivers who glared and gave me the horn. "i was never warned," i wanted to testify in my defense. "why can't you be nice?" instead, i said nothing; chris and i smoked a cigarette to pass the time and thought about calling the tow truck guy and telling him to bring a pizza while he was at it. maybe a bottle of pepsi.

eventually, we got to our destination, which was a condo complex in lake in the hills. the search for affordable housing continues with much lower expectations and a map that now includes mchenry county. mchenry county, county slogan, "it'll take you forever to get anywhere." secondary slogan, "don't expect anyone to visit you. ever."

at least the condo complex was close to gas stations.

go king yourself

i'm really getting into checkers these days. since i've been too strung out to write (due to such stressful episodes as "jackie meets the mortgage man" and "the mortgage man and jackie exchange harsh words"), i've been devoting my time to numbing my brain with games. first it was video poker. then crossword puzzles and solitaire. then i was watching jeopardy and keeping track of my point totals ("what is too much time on my hands, alex?"). word whomp has always been a reliable stand-by, as well as jt blocks, which, like tetris, tends to induce nightmares involving giant blocks and the inability to organize them properly. now, i'm on to checkers. and, let me tell you, unless my opponent is a seven year old kid who rides the short bus, i just can't seem to catch a break and win. perhaps that's the allure. perhaps i'm a moron.

as i've alluded to, i think all this game playing is the symptom of a larger problem. much like nightmare of the falling tetris pieces, i'm tired of trying to fit everything in my life together. the house shopping, the looming wedding plans, situations at work, missing friends, and old sitcoms, i don't see anymore. and then there are the mirror messes of my wardrobe and my groceries- so many purchases, yet not a thing to wear or eat. why would i buy a bag of flour when i don't bake? why would i get a low-cut tank top when i'm... yeah, never mind.

so, the more i play games, the less time i spend worrying about the stuff i need to worry about. which is why i think, after all is said and done, i'll be able to beat a nine year at checkers- and then i will move on to mah jong, purely so i can just say "mah jong" in casual conversation.

it's not buying things at the dollar store we believe in...

it's buying too many things at the dollar store.

my dad told me that there was a store that chris and i absolutely had to check out. "it's like the dollar store on steroids," i recall him saying, and so today the cheese and i took a ride out to elgin to see what all the buzz was about. some of our best times occur in the aisles of dollar stores because we get so crazy and silly in our purchasing power. "grab another basket," chris ordered midway through our trip today, gesturing at some shopping baskets with a dollar cane that he had swooped up and proceeded to hobble around with. "my basket's getting way too heavy."

this dollar store even had a frozen foods section. this frightened me, but chris was thrilled, waving his cane about madly as he demanded that i grab four cheese pizzas, a box of "real deal" popcorn shrimp, and a bag of dollar don's chicken nuggets. "do i really want to buy chicken at the dollar store?" i asked, swallowing the bile. "it's in a bag," the cheese reasoned- because nothing disgusting could ever come out of a bag.

i get a real kick out of generic soda, and when i saw that chris had plopped a six pack of "dr. pop" into his basket, i lost it, howling madly at the name. dr. pop? is this the best the fake dr. pepper makers could come up with? later, i got home and found this website detailing all of the other off brand dr. peppers. there are even better names out there than dr. pop- such as dr. taste, dr. whoa, and, of course, mr. ahh!

anyways, i'm enjoying a dr. pop right now, and it really is worth the fifteen cents per can.

at the check out line, with approximately sixty bucks in merchandise on the conveyor belt, the cashier had trouble scanning an item. "i think it's a dollar," the cheese told her, to which the cashier snapped, "yeah, thanks." you'd think they'd have some humor about themselves.

we hobbled out into the parking lot loaded down with bags as i leaned onto the cane. it's amazing how many cars will stop for you if you're holding a cane. of course, it probably wasn't the cane they were stopping for; i'm sure it was pity for a bunch of poor saps who would buy a bag of chicken from the dollar store.

apartment life

i made a discovery yesterday that blew my mind. this whole time, i've been thinking that the loudingtons lived ABOVE us, that it was the girl ABOVE us i kept hearing vomiting, that it was the couple ABOVE us that was fighting day in and day out.

actually, it's been the couple next door.

how could i have been so wrong? i feel like a jackass; for months, i've been directing my anger upwards when i should have been sending it eastwards. sure, the folks above us may walk a bit heavily at times, but they are not the argument-having, puke-spewing loudingtons. they are simply the cementfoots. lara and ted cementfoot. and betsy and chad loudington have been residing in number 104. this whole time.

today i am going to file a formal complaint about the loudingtons. i might drop a pie off at the cementfoots' place, just to say sorry for shaking my fist at the ceiling when it should have been at the wall.

this is me as a virtual model trying on clothes. now, it's not that close to being accurate, but i still think it's kind of fun. you can create your own virtual model by heading to sears.com.

still life with food court

i know the evils of malls- the consumerism, the lack of sunlight, the mind-numbing muzak- but i must say that being in a mall always seems to make me feel better. perhaps it brings me back to a simpler time. so much of my life has been spent in a mall; i worked for six years at sears and then lenscrafters, and it was not work as much as it was play. i still smile to think of me and carole cavorting around the women's section of sears adorned with the scarves off the mannequins and the ridiculous extent to which i'd avoid properly folding clothes. why fold a sweater when you can stuff it in the arm of another sweater? why find a hanger for a t-shirt when you can effectively hide it inside some jeans?

and then lenscrafters. i don't think another job will ever make me laugh as hard. the level of my professionalism hit an unprecedented low with this career move, and maybe this is why my job satisfaction- for the first four years- was so unbelievably high. how can one glaucoma test make me laugh to the point of stomach cramps and blurred vision? how could i have possibly spent three straight hours in the breakroom under the ruse of tightening a screw? oh, good times.

when i was a kid, the mall held such magic for me. i remember being nine years old and running off with my cousin from store to store in a mad race to spend our christmas money. we proudly toted our mothers' discarded purses, our faces adorned with bright spots of blush and contraband lipstick, and the hot pretzels and orange-ade were the finest tasting fare our mouths could have ever imagined.

now, when i get depressed, i like to walk around the mall. i don't necessarily need to buy anything- just being there is pleasure enough. i like to see the sales associates giggling as they stamp out $69.69 from the price gun onto the sides of their registers; i love the pre-teen girls examining charm bracelets as they wobble uncertainly in newly purchased shoes. nobody is sad in a mall; every shopper is either on an important mission or too busy gabbing with their friends to be depressed. i like the food court- the scent of all that sinful junk food, the slushee machines whirling red and blue. there's something very safe about a table of sweaters organized by color, a rack of jeans separated by sizes.

that said, i went to the mall by myself on tuesday night in an effort to make myself feel better. i bought a mocha, i tried on a prom dress, and i watched a group of kids in the toy store fight cheerfully over the playstation controller. i admired the fact that, inside a mall, there is no weather- no frigid air, no threat of rain, just the predictability of escalators and cinnabons. and then, while i did not intend to buy anything, i stumbled across a clearance rack. there, amidst the size dividers, was a red turtleneck for 77 cents. and it fit me perfectly, so i bought it.

i miss the mall.

another one bites the dust

i discovered a new comic: greg giraldo. of course, i didn't go out and discover this comic on my own; i didn't walk up to him while he was waiting in line at the coffee shop and say, "hey, man, you should be a comic... which do you think is funnier, a bear claw or a cruller?" i saw him on comedy central. now, most of these comics that you see on tv, you watch them and you think, "yeah, this is about as funny as a muffin." muffins- not funny. bear claws- hysterical.

we watched the academy awards at vic and linda's on sunday night. the thing about the academy awards- if you haven't seen any of the movies, you quickly lose interest. and why does "the aviator" seem so very, very boring?

oh, yeah. we're not getting the house. the seller's attorney wanted to screw around with the contract, and you know what i said? i said, "thank god." because i'm averaging ten panic attacks a day over this place, and my mental health professional is on the verge of putting me in a padded room. didn't know i had a mental health professional, did you? well, i do, and his name is chris, and i was not about to let him go about and buy all those pillows, especially when we're saving for a house.

so what do we do next? don't know.

i've discovered online gambling. of course, at this point, i'm only gambling with "tokens," but i'm sure it will progress. i've got the right personality to develop a severe gambling problem. i've also been told that i have a very good chance of becoming addicted to sleeping pills and bug powder.