Just one of those days....

Do you ever have one of those days where nothing seems to go right?  The kind of day where even a clown could make you grumpy.

Mine started at the gym when I hopped on the digital scale and...wait for it....read the magic number of 488 pounds.  Yep, 488!  I guess what they say about people gaining weight after marriage really is true.

Because I’m on Mike’s insurance now, I had to call to call and get a new prescription drug card.  Of course, I couldn’t actually talk to a live person, that would be too easy.  After 10 minutes of getting the automated runaround and choosing 25 different options, the automated voice said, “I’m sorry, we are having technical difficulties, so this call is ending now.”  Ugh.  (By the way--do you ever notice they always say, “Please listen to all the options before choosing, because the menu recently changed.”  I totally think they’re lying.)

When I called back and got through to someone, I found out I had the wrong number.  Ugh.  Start again.  I started yelling so loud, the dogs whimpered to the bedroom.  

As you know from previous posts, our building’s AC was turned off a week ago, so it’s 90 degrees in our south-facing, 31st floor apartment.  When I jumped off the couch to answer the phone, I blacked out from the heat.  Then I started crying, “It’s so hot, and it’s making me miserable!”  Dramatic, I know, but I haven’t slept well in 5 days, so everything seems like the end of the world.

But then I had new hope, realizing Mike and I can get into our new apartment this week.  Yay!  It’s only on the 2nd floor, and it faces the west, so no more sweaty ‘pits!  When I called the apartment leasing company, I found out they accidentally mailed the keys to our landlord instead of us.  

Oh yeah, and she lives in California.  

And it’s the only set.  Ugh.

Goodnight everybody!  Here’s to another day, and hopefully shedding 350 pounds.

My Weekend In

Day 6 of the Chicago Indian Summer, and our apartment is sweatier than Brett Favre trying to explain himself to his wife.  (Seriously Brett Favre??  Do you think any woman wants to see your goods??)

As I mentioned in a previous post, our apartment is a sauna right now because Chicago is having unseasonably warm weather.  That along with the fact that our building turned off all the air conditioning and we live on the 31st floor facing the South.  We get direct sunlight from about 7:00 a.m. until 5:00 p.m., and our white blinds just don't seem to be doing the trick of keeping the heat out.  I'm guessing our apartment has been around 85-90 degrees for days.  I left a message with our landlord that they just might find the bodies of two adults and two Chihuahua's in here if they don't turn the air back on.

This weekend, I found that I was lazier than usual because of the heat.  Mike was out of town, so I watched a lot of TV and movies.  I caught up on Jersey Shore, Keeping Up With the Kardashians and I watched...get this...5 movies.  That's crazy!  Here are some of my observations from my hours in front of the tube...

* Jersey Shore is getting really ridiculous to watch.  Mike "The Situation" is bringing home so many girls, you actually have to get an HPV vaccine before you watch.
* The movie "The Hangover" is ridiculously funny, and even funnier the second time you watch it.  Bradley Cooper donning his black suit is truly delicious perfection.  Wow, I think I need a minute.

* Okay, I'm back.  The movie "Blood Diamonds" is really well done.  It will make you question how you get your diamonds, and why Leonardo DiCaprio always dies in every movie he's in.  Remember this, "Jack, I'll never let go!"  Only Kate Winslet, you totally let go like 3 hours later.
* "500 Days of Summer" is a super cute movie.  You should watch it...especially if you're trying to get over a heartache, or wondering why someone dumped you.  Or if you just really like Hall and Oates.  (Guilty as charged.)
* Finally, "My Sister's Keeper" is emotionally draining.  Seriously, I cried for a whole 2 hours, and I'm talking about loud, uncontrollable sobs.  What I also realized afterwards?  Getting rid of the bags under your eyes the day after crying so much is a lot harder at 32 than it was at 22.

The rules of city livin'

When my mom came to visit Chicago a few weeks ago, she said, "You know what the biggest difference is about a city?  People don't look you in the eye."  It's so true!  I thought about it last night as I was walking home from work.  You don't want to look people in the eye because of 1) safety 2) you're avoiding a bum asking for money or 3) you're avoiding getting asked to donate money for a cause.


When I first moved here, I kept true with my Wyoming self and looked everyone in the eye and I would either smile or say hello.  After a few strange looks from women, or creepy men who thought I was hitting on them and winked at me in response, I thought I probably should stop this.  Now I realize, after a year in Chicago, I really don't look anyone in the eye.

I've also stopped saying "excuse me."  In Wyoming, if you're in someone's way or you accidentally brush up against them, you say "excuse me."  So for the first few weeks in Chicago, I was constantly telling people this.  But here's the thing...in a city, you will ALWAYS been in someone's way.  You will have accidental collisions everyday.  Sometimes you will have to bump into someone, or accidentally step on their toes on the L train, but people don't take it personally.

A third change I've noticed is that I used to be so bothered when someone walked or stood super close to me on the streets or in line at a clothing or grocery store.  I used to take it personally, like they were trying to be rude or get me out of the way.  I've come to realize they don't know any differently.  They've been in a busy city their whole lives, so they are used to being in close proximity with other people.

All-in-all I would say Chicago has made me a much more patient person.  When you're stuck in traffic or behind a slow person, you can either choose to get really annoyed, or just take a deep breath and realize it's the price you pay to live in a really cool city.

It's hotter than....

It is hot in Chicago.  Well, hot for October.  It's 74 degrees right now and the sun is setting.  Beautiful.

What's not beautiful?  Inside our apartment.  It's 85 with a chance for even more steaminess as we head into nightfall.  Here's the thing-when you live in an apartment or a high-rise, you often don't get to choose your own temperature.  When Mike lived in an old apartment at the corner of State Street and Chicago Avenue, his landlord controlled the heat, so their top floor apartment felt like 95 degrees in the winter.  We had to keep the windows open all the time.  His roommate joked that at least 3 times a night, he had to stick his head out of the window just to get some gasps of fresh air.

In our building, the maintenance crew decides when to turn off the air conditioning for the year, and they decided to do so last week as temperatures were dropping into the 50's.  But now we're back in the 70's, so it seems like their decision was a little premature.  Plus when you add in the fact that we live on the 31st floor and face south, we get sun ALL day long, so it's hotter in our apartment than two mice going at it in a wool sock.  I also seem to have more of a man's body temperature, because I like it really cold.  My mother-in-law hates to visit because she says "She just can't warm up."

Because of the heat, I started to black out today when I was blow drying my hair!  Last night, I had to sleep on the couch because our bedroom could have been mistaken for a gym sauna.  Even the dogs didn't want to cuddle, and I swear our Chihuahua had sweaty 'pits.

I'm actually contemplating renting a hotel room just so I can control the temperature and have a little air. I know, I know, I'll miss this in December.



Oh no he didn't!

I am afraid to stick up for myself.  I seem to be incapable of defending myself against people trying to overcharge me or someone saying something nasty to me.  I think a lot of women are the same way.  When a man sticks up for himself it's seen as aggressive, whereas for a woman it can be seen as bitchy.

Case in point: When I was Miss Wyoming competing at the Miss USA pageant, I remember one of the contestants (I won't say which one, but think West Coast) saying to me, "Dark eyebrows and blonde hair, huh?  I wouldn't have thought of putting those together!"

Ouch.

I didn't say anything, I just laughed nervously.

I've told you before about a news viewer who saw me without make-up on and said, "Wow, you look so different!  Don't worry honey, I'm not a natural beauty either."

I didn't say anything, I just laughed nervously.

Anyway, for the past few years I've made it a new year's resolution to stick up for myself...and it's slowly getting better.

This weekend, Mike and I needed to take a shuttle from our hotel to the airport to fly back from Atlanta.  The hotel told me the fare was $70 no matter how you shake it.  When we got in the car, the driver said he wouldn't accept a credit card, so when we got to the airport, Mike went inside and got money from an ATM.  When he came out and asked the driver how much it was, the driver said $80.  What?  Mike said "Whatever" and handed him the money.

I quickly ripped it out of the driver's hand and said, "No, it's $70!"

He said no, it was $80.

I told him we were only paying $70, and asked if he had change.  Of course he said he didn't.  So I said, "Well, the hotel said it was $70 and we're not paying $1 more.  I will go get change."

I started taking my bag and the driver grabbed it and said, "Oh no, it's staying here!"

I yelled, "Fine!"  I went inside and asked about five people if they could break a $20.  I finally got a coffee shop to break it for me.  I went outside, handed it to the driver, and get this....I didn't thank him!  Ha!  Pre-Jeannie would still have thanked him despite his obvious attempt at ripping us off.

It doesn't stop there.   The other day a man cut in front of me at a breakfast restaurant and I said, "You totally just cut in front of me."  He apologized.

Watch out Chicago...you've changed me for the better.  This nice Wyoming girl is tired of getting walked on...unless it's in cute Manolo Blahnik's, of course.



Ever worked in retail?

  

My closet.  Yes it's color coordinated.

As some of you regular blog followers know, I took a job in retail several months ago to help pay the bills until I become a famous writer.  (However, the clothes are really darling, so I'm not actually sure I've made any money.  But my closet has never been cuter...seriously.)

Anyway, I could tell you a thousand retail stories.  Stories about working in a very busy downtown Chicago location and dealing with theft.  Stories about how many women buy hundreds of dollars of clothes, only to return every single piece the next day.  Stories about size 8 women trying to squeeze into size 2 clothes.  And WTF (What the f***?) moments.  My favorite?  I once saw a woman trying on a skirt...only she wasn't in a dressing room.  She was in the middle of the store.  I guess she didn't want to bother taking the skirt back to the dressing rooms.  It was?  Gross.

Today came a new experience.  As I was ringing a woman up, she asked me to look up her store credit card info because she didn't have it with her.  When I did that, the automated operator told me the woman had a $700 balance.  I let her know, and she said, "Oh yeah, I keep forgetting to give the bill to my husband."

I said, "Oh really?  That must be nice!"

She smiled and said, "Yeah, I shop and he pays the bills.  It works out well."

I'm sure it does lady, I'm sure it does.

Tonight when I told Mike the story, he said, "Well, either the guy is loaded or a real sucker."

Either way, don't you think it's odd for a man to pay all a woman's bills?  I would feel really weird not paying for a thing.  Where's your sense of satisfaction if you don't work for what you have??

Now that being said....Honey, there are a pair of brown over-the-knee boots I'd harm a small child for, and my self worth can totally take a back seat if you buy them for me.




My take on Southern Women

Wow, what an amazing weekend!  Mike and I flew to Atlanta for my girlfriend, Melissa's wedding.  She and I met while working together as reporters for WINK-TV in Fort Myers, Florida, and we both served as bridesmaids for our 2010 weddings.  I had so much stinkin' fun!  The wedding was in a suburb of Atlanta called Marietta, and it was a true Southern wedding.  The South is so cool!  I told everyone this weekend that in my next life, I want to come back as a Southern woman.  Seriously!  Here is what I'm talking about...

First of all, they have the best hair.  Seriously, what is it about Southern women?  They all seem to have these thick, beautiful locks of hair that they somehow manage to make look perfect despite the humidity. My hair is as limp as a dishrag in July.

Secondly, they have the darn cutest accents and tell the best stories!  I could listen to a Southern woman talk all day.  They know how to add every detail of a story to make you feel like you are right there.  Plus, who doesn't want to hear someone say, "Y'all", "I'm full as a tick!" or "You can butter my butt and call me a biscuit!" (I really don't know what that means but I love it.)

They also have Sweet Tea which is a-maz-ing.  In Chicago if you ask for a Sweet Tea, you'll get handed an Iced Tea with a packet of Splenda.  In the South, Sweet Tea, pronounced "Tay" is made with this delicious simple syrup which is basically cooked sugar, so it blends perfectly with the tea.  I reckon' it will change your life.

Also, a Southern woman is not afraid to tell you how it is.  If you need more lipstick, they'll tell you.  If a Southern mother thinks her daughter should wear a different dress, she'll tell her.  If a Southern woman's husband is out of line, well, you get it.   They are as tough as whit leather.  We Northerners think these things, we just don't have the bourbon balls to say it. (Get it?  Bourbon and chocolate bourbon balls are also huge in the South.)

Finally, Southern woman are true friends.  When you befriend a Southern woman in high school, college, sorority, pee-wee softball, etc., they'll remain your friend for a lifetime.  I was so impressed with Melissa's circle of friends.  They've known each other forever, and will always will be there for each other's big life moments like weddings and babies.

So to Melissa: thank you for adding me to such a cool circle of friends.  To Ciana, Tracy, Laura, Kristen and Anna...it was a pleasure.  If you ever want to trade lives for a little bit, just let me know.  I do declare it would be fun.