Oh the Joys of City Driving

Well, it was bound to happen. In a city of millions of drivers, narrow streets and crazy cabbies, it was inevitable that I would hit someone or something with my car.

And I did.

In a city where people are frustrated sitting in traffic and the sounds of honking horns are commonplace, I was bound to get into a road rage incident.

And I did.

All of this in one week too! Sheesh.

Yesterday I had to drive to Bed, Bath and Beyond to get a bridal shower gift. As you loyal blog followers know, driving in a city is as scary for me as speaking in front of a thousand people. My heart pounds, my 'pits are sweaty and I'm constantly talking to myself, saying things like "Watch out buddy!" "Where did you come from?!" It ain't pretty.

As I was coming home I had to take the dreaded North Avenue. It's Lincoln Park's busiest/craziest street. As soon as I got on, a man cut me off, but that's pretty common, so I didn't do anything about it. I did however, when he subsequently slammed on his brakes at a light, and I nearly rear-ended him. The light was greenish/yellowish, and I was counting on him and I to both make it through. So, I did what's only natural. I honked.

Then I see his car door fly open. Uh-oh. (I'm hoping he doesn't have a gun.) In a thick accent, he proceeds to yell, "What the (bleep)? The light itsh red, so I stop. Thesh people, they has to cross street, so I stop. What you want me to do, hit them? What the (bleep) lady??" People on the street all stopped to watch this display.

The funny thing is-- in true big city form, he never looked me in the eye. I was to his east, and he looked south the whole time as he yelled. (If he had a gun, this would be a good thing because without looking at me, I bet his aim would be pretty bad.)

Now you're asking, why the nasty scrape on your car? Oh, that's because parking garages in Chicago were made for my niece's Barbie car, not SUV's. There is no room, so as I was leaving a dentist appointment and had to exit out the midget-sized door, I scraped the side of my car, taking with me white paint from the garage.

Sheesh. And to add insult to injury, gas is now $4.49 in the city.

I guess I'll stick to walking.

The Royal Wedding-Who Cares?

Source:xfinitytv

What will Kate be wearing? Will her hair be up or down? Will William drink at the reception? Why isn't he wearing a wedding band?

Oh my god, WHO CARES?

The whole world is all a flutter with the royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton that takes place in 10 hours, 28 minutes and 56 seconds. Some are predicting this will be the most watched event...ever. Since it's on at 5 a.m. Chicago time, I can tell you one person who won't be watching it--this gal.

People Camped Out to Watch.
Source: Royalweddingnews2011.com

Seriously, what is our obsession with the royal family and this wedding? Why is there still a royal family? Do they make important government decisions? Help lower taxes? NO! If I were an English taxpayer, I 'd be pretty mad that my hard earned money was going towards this ridiculous event. (Because I'm pretty sure William's military salary isn't enough to cover a multi-million dollar event.)

Everyone is so excited right now, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before the ruthless English paparazzi turns on Kate. As a little girl, I vividly remember seeing a picture of Princess Diana on the cover of a tabloid magazine with a close-up picture of the back of her legs, with the caption, "Lady Di has cellulite!" It went on to question how she could have that since she worked out daily. Let me tell ya, I started getting cellulite at 18 when I was barely 100 pounds. It's heredity people, not laziness.

My guess is it won't be long before the magazines are putting these headlines, "Is Wills and Kate's marriage in trouble?" "William caught looking at another woman." "Kate leaving William for brother Harry, because well, he's got more hair!"

Sheesh. As one friend pointed out, every news story begins with, "It's every little girl's dream to be a princess." Yes, but only if I get to sing all the time and have talking squirrels and birds around me. I'm not as much into living in gloomy London, having a snotbucket for a step mother-in-law and grandmother, and having to bow at my relatives.

(Side note: On enews.com you can type in your name to find out your royal name and title....here's mine.
* Marchioness Jeannie Ticky Croftscock of Chicagopool
Okay, I don't like the middle name Ticky, and let's face it, the kids on the playground will tease me about Croftscock. So I typed in my married name and here are the results...
* Duchess Jeannie Arabella Evanchancock of Chicagopool
(Sheesh, I guess a girl can't catch a break.)

New Blog

As many of you know, I'm a product and beauty treatment junkie. If it promises better skin or reduced fine-lines, I'm so buying it. So I figured I should take all my treatment experiences combined with my bathroom full of products to let you know what's worth the money and what's not.

Check it out! http://brightlightsbeautifulskin.blogspot.com/

Chopping Block in Chicago--Such a Fun Date Night!

9 months after getting married, and we're still enjoying wedding gifts (which totally rocks!)

Last Thursday, Mike and I cashed in a gift certificate and went to a cooking class at the Chopping Block in Chicago. It's a really cool place that offers a variety of cooking classes like "Meat 101" (every man's dream), "Mary Ate a Little Lamb" (a little creepy) and "When In Rome" (that's the one we went to.)

When you walk in, there are several beautiful kitchens set up for the different classes. They have all the food and tools set out that you'll need. On our night we made White Bean and Rosemary Bruschetta for an appetizer, Homemade Fettuccine Alla Carbonara, Sauteed Broccoli Rabe as a side, and Ricotta Cheesecake with Roasted Pears for a dessert. It was so good!

You're able to order wine (we ordered a bottle, which totally rocked) so you drink and cook. There is a chef and an assistant who walk around and help you through the entire process. I learned some cool tricks for cutting veggies and also learned the best techniques for making homemade noodles (Which I'll likely never do in real life unless we win the lotto and I don't have to work so I have time for this.)

All-in-all, if you're looking for a great date night, I'd totally recommend couples cooking classes! Mike really enjoyed it, and the best part is that you get to enjoy your creation at the end. You also work with really big knives, so your hubbie won't talk back.

Do you ever feel old?

I think for all of us there are specific moments in life when you just feel old. For me, I remember a few specific examples....

* Being called "Ma'am" by the cute guy who works at my gym

* The time I told the young gal washing my hair at the salon that I was a newlywed and she replied back with, "Oh awesome, I want to wait until I'm older to get married too!"

* Finding my first gray hair (January 17, 2011). Of course, I blogged about it... http://jeanniecrofts.blogspot.com/search?q=gray+hair

* And today. Finding out a former classmate of mine, who is the same age as me, is going to be a grandmother.

What??

Courtesy:fullhot.net

I was perusing Facebook when I saw this friend posted one of those creepy sonogram pics of a baby. You know, where it looks like a little alien or the dancing baby from Ally McBeal. I was expecting to read the caption, "I have exciting news to share!" but instead it said, "I'm going to be a grandmother. I'm so excited!"

Really, is she excited? She's 33, so her son has to be 15 or 16.

I haven't even had a child yet, and now friends are having grandchildren?? The reason I'm waiting is because I don't feel like we're financially stable enough. Hmm...I'll have to find out what kind of job the 15-year old has, because it must pay more than mine.

Charlie Sheen--Winning?

Okay, okay, I know you're thinking it. Wondering why me--the queen of all smart asses--hasn't yet blogged about Charlie Sheen. I even had a girlfriend make a request for such a post! (Because that's how I roll. I'm getting so popular, I now get requests for blogs. Winning!)

Really people, what is going on with this freak show? His interviews, quotes and antics are getting more ridiculous by the day. There's even a website, http://charlieswinning.com/quotes/ that lists the best of Charlie's verbal vomit. My personal fav?...

“I am on a drug – it’s called Charlie Sheen. It’s not available because if you try it, you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.”

It's sad to see another star losing his mind, doing drugs and going down a roller coaster that's about to go off track. But I think we're partially responsible. Here's why...

* Someone is made a star at a young age, and we treat them like they're better than the rest of us. We tell them how great they are, and make sure they don't have to wait in line or pay for anything.
* We pay them ridiculous amounts of money, like 1.5 million an episode, to memorize lines someone else wrote, dress them in clothes someone else bought and have them play a character someone else created.
* We have photographers follow their every move, making sure to catch those "must-see" moments of them walking out of the grocery with loads of toilet paper so we can say, "Look, they're just like us!" (What do we think they wipe with? Freshly spun silk cloths?)
* We gossip about every break-up, mishap, car accident, painful revelation and divorce they go through, like it's our right to know what's going on in their lives.

My point is: We lift these people up to unrealistic expectations, but we're always ready and willing to see them fall down. We mess with their heads by making them think they are special, but so often, forgotten just a few years later. We intervene in every aspect of their lives, making it impossible for them to have normalcy.

I honestly feel bad for Charlie Sheen. His life has been a crazy circus filled with people who probably loved his money and fame more than they loved him.

Now let's leave the poor man alone so he can get on with marrying a tree. (Yes, that's a Charlie quote. He says that's probably the best option since his other marriages didn't work out.)

Well, that wasn't easy!

It's over, it's over!! I took the GRE this week (test to get into graduate school) and I scored about average for math and a little above average for the verbal. It's probably the only time in my life I've jumped for joy after scoring right in the middle.

What a crazy experience. The workers are very careful there's no cheating going on. I went downtown to a testing center which is on the 16th floor of a high-rise. You check in and you have to sign that not only do you promise not to cheat, you write out a full paragraph saying bascially, "I, Jeannie Crofts, swear not to cheat..."

Then they make you empty your pockets. I even brought my own kleenex (because I am my mother's daughter, of course), but they made me throw those out and take theirs. (I guess in case I wrote out the Pythagorean Theorem on them? Trust me, having that wouldn't have helped.) They gave me scratch paper and pencils, and made me count how many pieces of scratch paper I had. I said "4" and they marked it down on the sheet. Then they made me put all my stuff in a locker, including my watch.

I told them I needed to go to the bathroom, so they asked for my driver's license, and I gave that as colloratel for a bathroom key. (Just like a dingy gas station bathroom!) When I was ready for the test, I signed in, along with the time. They took me into a room where about 5 other people were taking tests. I noticed that there was a camera above every person, watching their every move. I wore a light jacket, thinking I'd get cold, and they told me I couldn't take it off during the test.

Not long after I started, another guy came in and sat down next to me...and then he coughed. And coughed again. For the next 3 hours, he coughed every 30 seconds. It was? The worst! I put on headphones, but it didn't help...I could still hear him every time he coughed. I'd start reading a problem, and then he'd hack and I had to start over. (I blame him for my low math score. It couldn't possibly be my fault.)

When it came to the math portion...I did a lot of guessing. Who I am kidding? I guessed on every single answer. I had to laugh at myself, because with each question I wrote down the problem or equation on my scrap paper as if I knew how to solve it. I'd write it down...stare at it....add a couple of numbers, then multiply them...but I never got an answer that was any of the mutiple choice answers. Oh well, I thought, let's go with choice "C"!

I told my mom later, "It's okay that I'm not good at math. I'd rather be socially smart than book smart." Translation: "I just felt like a total dum dum and I'm trying to justify it."