The Time I Guessed Emmy Winners

Best Comedy - Nurse Jackie (because it's on showtime, and is in no way funny, so that must make it deep). Modern Family won, I'm ashamed that I can't even guess things remotely right anymore. You should probably take me out of your life.

Best Drama - Dexter (because it's on showtime, and Michael C. Hall just got over cancer.) Mad Men was the winner, I guess this also makes sense, since you know, only 45 - 60 year old men vote on the emmys.

Best Made for TV Movie - Temple Grandin (the only one I saw and frankly Claire Danes was mesmerizing in the last 13 minutes of it). YES!!!! 1/3. Let's get the ball rollin, as Robert Downey Jr says in Tropic Thunder, you never go full retard, and I suppose autistic people arent fully retarded.

Lead Actor in a Drama - (Michael C. Hall, see above). Shiiiiiiiit. I was this close to batting .500. Winner here was Bryan Cranston, who has somehow won every year his show has been on. I think Malcolm in the Middle really helped him, since it was such a TERRIBLE show, now that hes on a good show, people just say, "oh shit, I cant believe he can act."

Lead Actress in a Drama - Kyra Sedgewick from The Closer. I don't know why, because TNT plays the ads as regular programming? Yep. The ads convinced the voters that this middle aged woman in a show about...closing...? was the best actress on TV.

Best supporting Actor in a Drama - If this isn't Michael Emerson from Lost, I'll kill myself AGAIN. I love his beady eyes. I refuse to comment on this atrocity.

Best supporting Actress in a Drama - I've never seen any of these shows. I'll guess someone from the Good Wife. Blah. Again, it's weird that I watch 30 shows, yet I haven't seen any of these, I'm guessing "The Good Wife" isn't aimed at 25 year old single males. Just a hunch. BOOM. Close it out strong. 3/7. Although I kind of cheated by just grouping all the actresses on "The Good Wife" together, but so be it. It's my blog, my rules.

Make sure to come back next year, as we watch the cast of Glee collectively sweep the entire award show!

The Time I Went to the Emmy's (Again)

I'm sitting here live from my apartment in Chicago where the Emmy's start at 7 pm and not 8. WTF???? Primetime at 7PM, I could get used to you. I'll be honest, I'm not gonna last all 3 hours. So I'm gonna go as long as I can before I pass out. Jimmy Fallon is hosting. LETS GO!

7 PM - Cast of Glee in the pre-recorded opening segment. Trying to raise money to go to the emmy's...good plot. Yikes.

7:01 - Here comes Tina Fey, Betty White and Don Draper as dancers and they decide to sing a Bruce Springsteen song (I think, I'm not a 55 year old douchebag from Jersey, so I'm not positive).

7:04 - Definitely Springsteen, this segment is overloaded with Bruce references (right down to the guitar and the infidelity). Unfortunately, MR Fallon's microphone was waaaaaaaay too loud and his out of breath singing was slightly embarrassing.

7:06 - Somehow he went from t-shirt and jeans to tuxedo...I suddenly don't think this is live anymore. A Conan O'Brien joke starts off the comedy. While we are here, I'm pretty upset that "Team Coco" is also live blogging the Emmy's, since that blog is written by actual comedy writers.

7:10 - They are doing "a year in comedy" recap and they included clips of Two and A Half Men, soooo the award show loses all of it's validity in the first 10 minutes. Fantastic.

7:11 - Outstanding Supporting Actor in Comedy - Three guys from Modern Family, NPH from How I met Your Mother, and Jon Cryer from Charlie Sheen's Show. A guy from Modern Family wins!!! Holy shit balls. I love that show. Is he gay in real life, let's find out...

7:13 - He doesn't sound gay, but his definitely Gay in real life tv partner is crying...so maybe something on the side? I'll go with not gay though.

7:14 - First commercial break and I'm pretty sure I already want to stop. So...let's compromise and say I'll do an hour. Deal? DEAL????????

7:18 - John Hodgman (my friend Scott's doppleganger in every way ever) is tonight's announcer and he's hilarious. Maybe he'll convince me to watch.

7:19 - Jim Parsons (who cares) and Sofia Vergara come out to present and do a terrible comedy routine where they make fun of her spanish accent. They present comedy series writer. Noms: 30 Rock, The Office, Glee, Modern Family. Emmy goes to Modern Family. THEY ARE CLEANING UP. I WATCH THAT SHOW. So does my dad, I find that weird, since he watches Sy-Fy on the reg and I cannot name one current sy-fy show.

7:22 - Stephen Colbert to present supporting actress in a comedy. Noms: Who cares, 2 people from modern family are nominated. One will win!

7:24 - No!!! Jane Lynch from Glee. She's funny in everything, although her other awesome TV show just got cancelled. You didn't even know it existed did you? You are the reason it was cancelled. I hate you.

7:30 - Back from commercial. Lauren Graham and Matthew Perry to present best guest actress in a comedy. Betty White will definitely win. This is a sham, she was TERRIBLE on that, I don't care if shes 83.

7:32 - YEP. NPH also won for best guest actor in a comedy.

7:33 - Best director in a comedy series. I missed the nominations. 30 Rock and Modern Family was in there with Glee. I'll guess Modern Family for everything. Nay, Glee wins.

7:35 - Modern Family pre-produced segment..with Stewie from Family Guy, 3D Modern Family, and turning the gay couple on the series straight. ON SNAP, 4th option, George Clooney as the new husband. I suppose this segment is cute, but uh...no one laughed in the audience. So lets move on.

7:37 - LL Cool J is still alive!!!? WTF. Lead actor in a comedy. 30 Rock, The Office, Larry David, Glee, Big Bang Theory, Monk. I bet Big Bang wins. I will kill myself if he does.

7:38 - Goddamit. I gotta kill myself. This show is not even a comedy. It's a bunch of "jokes" that are just rehashed from any other sitcom you've ever seen, and a live studio audience filled with monkeys that clap. He is talking about his "character development" in his acceptance speech. Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. You aren't on the Wire buddy. So filled with hate right now. I have tried watching this show TWICE and can't make it through 1 episode. And I watch over 30 TV shows religiously. I HATE CBS. Rant over.

7:44 - Neil Patrick Harris burns Jimmy Fallon with a gay joke. He just got served. Best actress in a comedy series. Girl from Glee is gonna win.

7:45 - Nope, Edie Falco from Nurse Jackie? Is that even a comedy? Do people know that just because a show is on showtime or HBO, doesnt mean it's awesome? DO THEY? God, I need to burn something. Only 15 more minutes Kelson. You can do this.

7:46 - Reality TV summary, introduced by Kim Kardashian singing...ummm, wtf?

7:47 - I'm so bored by this recap, I don't even know what to say. There was a Snooki sighting..soo, that's nice.

7:49 - Will Arnett and Keri Russell (Felicity...?) to announce best reality competition program. Amazing Race, American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, Top Chef and something I missed. Top Chef wins!!! I watch that! My god. Two things here: first, this TV program is just ripping through awards, no clips of shows or actors, just reading names on a card and then immediately announcing. A blogger can't keep up. 2. Second, what is the criteria for best TV reality tv show? Seriously, the drama/tension it provides, how well it's produced, how entertaining it it is...I need criteria, and I need it now.

Alright another commercial break. Let's wrap this up. I'm gonna run through my guesses for the rest of the awards:

Best Comedy - Nurse Jackie (because it's on showtime, and is in no way funny, so that must make it deep).

Best Drama - Dexter (because it's on showtime, and Michael C. Hall just got over cancer.)

Best Made for TV Movie - Temple Grandin (the only one I saw and frankly Claire Danes was mesmerizing in the last 13 minutes of it).

Lead Actor in a Drama - (Michael C. Hall, see above).

Lead Actress in a Drama - Kyra Sedgewick from The Closer. I don't know why, because TNT plays the ads as regular programming?

Best supporting Actor in a Drama - If this isn't Michael Emerson from Lost, I'll kill myself AGAIN. I love his beady eyes.

Best supporting Actress in a Drama - I've never seen any of these shows. I'll guess someone from the Good Wife. Blah. Again, it's weird that I watch 30 shows, yet I haven't seen any of these, I'm guessing "The Good Wife" isn't aimed at 25 year old single males. Just a hunch.

Check back tomorrow with results!

The Time I Hung Out With Adam Carolla

Living in a city has accomplished one thing that living in a rural part of the country never could, going to events that Twitter makes you aware of. Earlier in the day, the famous Adam Carolla tweeted that he would be doing standup at the opening of the "Craftsman Store" in downtown Chicago. In addition to this knowledge bomb, he also tweeted that it was free, with free food and drinks. You can guess which of these things made a poor guy like me trek down to a hardware store. Craftsman.

So, I sent out some feelers to friends (one didnt know who Adam Carolla was), and got nothing at all, but decided I could probably handle this on my own. So I hit the train and headed downtown. When I got to the store, there were "brand ambassadors" (a term widely used in a previous life of mine) on Segways, handing out fliers and I got giddy. I got in and the store was massive and beautiful, I'm quite positive that a real man, who actually knew how to use tools would be incredibly impressed. Inside, there were stations upon stations of tools and mowers and steel plated steel. A true man's man type store. However, the marketing team behind this event decided to go a different direction with food and service. When I entered, I had to sign in using one of them upscale iPads and I was given two tickets, which I assumed were for the comedy show.

I saw the stage right in front of me and to each side a bar for food and alcohol, I didnt want to spend money (or be embarrassed if I assumed the drinks were free and they werent). But, around me caterers dressed up like they were at a formal were serving things like Sushi and some sort of cheese crumble wrapped in cardboard. (It legitimately looked like a cupcake wrapper, but you had to eat it). In preparation for the night, I had thrown on one of my plaid long sleeve shirts, rolled up, with a pair of blue jeans with a rip in the knee, and I made sure not to wear my heart skull shoes. I was bound to fit in!

Wrong. In addition to the servers, at least 60% of the crowd was dressed in suits (Craftsman corporate) and I realized this was really for them, not us rough and tumble folk. I proceeded to wait near the stage for the standup to begin and it started within 5 minutes. Let me begin by saying getting to see a B/C list celebrity in a room with less than 100 people is pretty cool and surreal. I saw those huge eyebrows miles before he even hit the stage and I got excited.

His act was short and pretty funny (this was only my second comedy show ever) and it was laced with tons of product placement, but who cares, Craftsman got they wanted (people out to the store and talking about the event, like in this blog, so technically I'm schilling too.) After his set, I decided to look around and try out some of the tools. Below is my night in pictures.

This is the sanding station. I legit dont know how to use one, so I took a picture of someone else doing it. I tried it after and almost cut my hand off.

Such presence.

The old corporate lady spokesperson. She wasn't sure what twitter was.

Lawn mower, mowing artificial turf, naturally.

A look at the fancy TVs and rigging around the store.

SO CLOSE! I could almost literally touch him.

I didn't realize that the tickets I was given as I entered were drink tickets until it was almost time to leave. I chugged this. Does this count as drinking alone?

Some sort of Jack challenge, my arm muscles atrophied at the site of this challenge.

Ugly electric cars that apparently someone at Craftsman drives to work.

Grout cutter! I tried this too, and got mostly tile.

The Time I Went to the Record Store

So yesterday, trying to fool myself into thinking I had anything to do, I went to the record store about 20 minutes from my apartment to try to sell some records (and then buy some food with that money). I woke up, with a hankering for Whole Foods cookies which seemed like the perfect solution to my hungry/poverty needs. A whole case of delicious cookies for only $4, I was sure I could eat these cookies as lunch AND dinner and only spend $4. I'm nothing, if i'm not savvy.

So, I woke up bright and early (around 10:30) and checked the Reckless Records website to gauge their CD buying policy. They claim to have the best prices and take almost anything music related. Unfortunately for me, I left most of my 1,000 CD collection in storage in NC, but I did have about 5 cds I could sell here, and a ton of crappy music DVDs. I felt that this was at least worth $20 (or 5 packs of cookies.)

After making the journey down (and taking advantage of the shady side of the street) I plopped the discs on the counter. The lovely man then told me "I'd need to take those out of the bag," AS I was reaching my hand into the bag to take them out. Very courteous.

He told me to look around the store, because this would take a few minutes. Literally 30 seconds later he handed me back all of the DVDs, and told me he would get me $5 for the 5 CDS (3 of which were unopened and 1 of which I had bought BRAND NEW FROM THIS SAME STORE 4 days before). But $5 meant 1 pack of cookies, so I took the deal and ate like a king yesterday.

The Time I Drank for the Second Time

So, this story dates back nearly 2 weeks now, but after some gentle prodding, I decided to write about it (although there isn't much to tell). If you are an avid reader, you will recall the night before my birthday and people wanting to do Irish Car Bombs with me, but me being scared to drive under any sort of alcoholic influence.

Well, a few days later, the Irish Car Bombs were tried. A group of us got together at a delightful little establishment called Zupco's (if you are thinking Polish, you wouldnt be in correct). After spending a nice evening with Derril driving around New Brunswick, eating dinner with Charlie, and getting terrible service at IHOP (from someone who wasnt even wearing a nametag, so I'm not positive she actually worked there), we went to this "bar" in Dunellen, New Jersey.

If you are unfamiliar with Dunellen, New Jersey, please reference an old blog post about Manville, NJ. It's the same place. Anyway, Zupco's was unlike any other bar I had been to, it had low ceilings that seemed to leak asbestos, a weird "front only" seating arrangement, and I may be remembering incorrectly, but I feel like they had picnic table cloths on the tables. In short, it looked like some sort of pool hall, just a sad place in general. (The one bright spot was a HUGE LED sign, letting you know what beers were on tap. To call this an eyesore is an understatement).

So, Derril decides I need to try a black russian (vodka and kahlua) after some of my other poor alcohol choices and he buys me this delicious concoction. After spending, no joke, 12 minutes at the bar waiting to order, Derril discovers the bartender doesnt know how to make a black russian, makes them re-make drinks, and then we end up with a vanilla vodka. I could care less, Derril is unsatisfied. I try it and I like it, a very sweet coffee like flavor with a nice kick. It's very apparent why there are a lot of drunk Russian authors.

I sip the drink for over 30 minutes, as I was told this is alot stronger than other things I've had and I decide that I am done for the evening. However, Irish Car Bomb girl was back and hanging out with us and I made the mistake of bringing it up again (insisting that she buy me the drink). And she did. And by this point I was certainly feeling the Black Russian. She goes and waits by the bar for 3-5 minutes (not quite positive on this) and at some point, another of our friends, goes up AFTER her, and returns with a drink BEFORE her. She looks at me and I(apparently being hammered after one drink) almost say, "It's because you're not pretty enough."

Luckily, Derril stopped me before I finished the statement (she was definitely pretty enough, as you'll read on) and she quickly returned to the table with one Irish Car Bomb in hand. I demanded she drink with me and she said, "I am, but I only have 2 arms." To which I drunkenly slurred, "I wish you were an octopus." (Which, I immediately thought was hilarious.)

I drank the Irish Car Bomb (poorly) the shot of Bailey's didnt flip correctly, so I ended up drinking it afterwards, but I chugged the rest and everyone was very proud. So back to ICB girl, I had shown interest in her from a few nights before, become entranced with her backyard volleyball playing, and hoped for the best on this night (she DID buy me a drink after all). My friends offered help, telling her she could crash on the couch with me, to which she accepted (we agreed upon cuddling the shit out of each other. There were even high fives.)

Awhile later, we all decided to go to another bar, apparently she was fine to drive, but I wasnt getting into a car with her, so we headed to Manville. Derril and I somehow managed to beat everyone there by 15 minutes and I decided a sub from Quikcheck was immediately necessary (an apparent theme of my drunkenness). Once we got to that bar, last call was already happening, we (the entire group of people) stuck around for 15 minutes, watched some people drink and then headed to Derril's house. This was it.

Yet, she walked towards her car, saying her goodbyes, and deciding to go home (somehow miraculously sobering up after having a drink at the second bar). Her car wouldnt start, so Derril and I, using most of our brute strength, jiggled some wires and got the car going. We were heroes, there were hugs and goodbyes and that was it. I had only had 2 drinks all night, and I made sure to wait more than 2 hours before driving back to my place, since crashing alone on the couch just didnt seem right.

The Time I Moved to A City (Part 2)

I learn new things everyday here in Chicago. I fall in love with a girl on the train or in passing outside the Whole Foods (actually most of the time it's in Whole Foods. I should just hang out there in search of indie rock girls.) Today, I took far enough that I actually smiled at the girl on the train (she coyly smiled back, I was in). I told myself "if she gets off at your stop, you talk to her." She got off at my stop and walked towards my apartment and I let her get away, the mother of my children.

Today, I also learned that the bus system doesnt use the same card as the train system and thus, I had to walk an extra 1.8 miles to take a piss test today. Halfway through walking I found a guitar pick IN my sock (which was a relief, because I had felt it for awhile and assumed that parts of my foot were just falling off). Immediately following that, I was accosted by a homeless man, who even though I had headphones in and was looking at my phone map (yes, I was lost) tried to come up to me and beg me for money. The joys of a city!

If you were wondering about the whole piss test thing, I had an interview at a boat tour company (Vince Vaughn style) where I'll be a deckhand (aka deck swabbing/people greeting/making sure children dont die). Apparently the only requirement (other than my boyish good looks) was that I take a drug test. No problem. Except out of the list of testing center possibilities, not one was within 30 minutes of my apartment. So now, I have spent an entire day out in Chicago, traversed 4 different trains, 2 miles on foot, lunch with a friend, and picked up my DePaul student ID (in which I look like the odd combination of a fat coke addict!).

The Time I Looked for Work

Today is Friday and that means I have now been living in Chicago for 5 days. On the third day I was completely done settling in. I had built all my new furniture and cleaned my entire prison cell (room). This was great, except that I only know 2 people and we have been constantly together for the past week. So now, I'm kind of in a city where I don't know anyone and I don't have a job and school doesnt start for another 3 weeks.

On top of that, I haven't been employed since the end of July. Meaning I'm not even in the vacation period of being unemployed, I'm just bored and watching the entire 3rd season of 30 rock yesterday didn't make it feel better. So now, I'm looking for jobs. Would I be a good receptionist? No, of course not, but I feel like i could have a friendly disposition.

Would I be willing to travel 30 minutes to go be an IT guy at a company outside of Chicago? Normally, no, but when compared to a day watching ESPN updated Brett Favre's eating activities, I say yes. So here I sit, applying to almost every job on Craigslist within reason (I'm skipping the babysitting and dog walking ads, mostly because I think there is some prejudice about what types of people fit those jobs, and I do not fit into that prejudice - I'm not an attractive 19 year coed, unfortunately.)

I was accepted to work study at DePaul, but unfortunately they don't assign you to jobs. You still have to apply, so I did that today, until I realized that all of the jobs were for 2008. Fearing that my school no longer existed, I checked my email about Work study, found an email about a seminar for new students looking for on campus work this fall, and RSVP'd. Within minutes I received an email telling me this session was mainly for new undergrads, although I was still welcome to come (you know, if I wanted to stick out like a sore thumb/hit on 18 year olds.)

I applied for a job at Target (a mile walk from my apartment) and spent over an hour filling out their questionnaire. I get very anxious when I fill these out however, because obviously Target wants to hear you are a hard worker that wont steal, but I feel like the questionnaires are designed to filter out the top and bottom of people. For instance, I'm smart enough that I know what the correct answer should be on every single question. YES, I STRONGLY AGREE THAT ALL PEOPLE ARE HONEST. But, maybe Target knows that if you answer every single question "correctly" you are obviously too smart to work at Target, or at least smart enough to lie about what the right answers are, so it's obvious you dont actually believe what you are saying.

So I tried to incorporate some dumb answers in. How often are you late to work? Once in awhile (instead of never, because no one is ever NOT late to work. Target knows this. Target will destroy you.)

My new roommate said he might be able to get me a job on a tour boat as a bartender, I have been drinking for less than 2 weeks and know approximately 3 drinks. This will not work out well.

The Time I Moved to A City

I now live in a city. Which is crazy, it still has not hit me that I have to walk everywhere and if something is "1 mile" away, it means I'm going to have to walk 2 miles and endure a intense amount of thigh chaffing. These are things I'm slowly learning about city life.

Other fun things:

There is nothing cheaper than $2 at the grocery store. (Also, buying drinks at the grocery store is almost entirely out of the question, as I live .6 miles from the grocery store and walking 11 minutes with a 12 pack of Mountain Dew Voltage in my hand would make my arm fall off.)

Chicago apartments and houses all have a series of mazes behind the apartment that lead to weird deck/staircases and alley ways. It looks bizarre.

Parking is non existent.

I am supremely excited for Primetime TV to start at 7 pm and not 8 pm (although I still am confused as to why sportscenter starts at 10 and not 11.

My feet get extremely dirty from walking, if I showed you the bottom of my feet right now, you would swear I grew up in a desert on another continent.

Air conditioning window units are commodities and I don't know how to use them.

And finally, 88%% of Chicago speaks Polish.

I will update you on things I've learned from "the big city."

The Time I Went to Indiana University

After a 6 hour drive alone, in a van that had little to know visibility (due to our lives being packed away), with no AC and only one working window, I was about ready to pass out and eat (in whichever order the universe decided.) We all decided to eat and our host knew a "great place" just down the street. I was starving and ready to go, however the universe had other plans. Here are my tweets (@ummmwtfblog) from that night. I will admit that I was beyond cranky at this point.

Waiting to be seated at a "restaurant" (bar). 25 minute wait better mean best goddamn food ever. Ummm WTF?7:05 PM Aug 15th via Echofon
Unless it's a high tier restaurant why would anyone EVER wait for a table. You left the house expecting to eat food relatively soon.7:06 PM Aug 15th via Echofon
And the prices!! So reasonable !!! http://tweetphoto.com/392549407:13 PM Aug 15th via Echof

There is no air conditioning in here either. I just drove 6 hours in a car with no ac7:14 PM Aug 15th via Echofon
Food ordered approximately 5 minutes ago. I bet it takes more than 30 minutes to get here7:24 PM Aug 15th via Echofon
Food took 25 minutes. Was quite spicy. I may be having a hot flash8:10 PM Aug 15th via Echofon
About to walk around Indiana university campus in the heat ( no av)8:10 PM Aug 15th via Echofon
Correction ac. I'm definitely in menopause mode8:11 PM Aug 15th via Echofon

The food did turn out to be quite good and spicy enough to clean out all of my organs. Some additional benefits of the restaurant:

An abundance of mullets.

A waitress with Avenge Sevenfold Tattoos.

A man with the longest dreadlocks of all time.

The Time I Got My Haircut (Part 3)

I know it's a bit dark, but i think you can see the cut of the hair, and yes, it DOES look longer on one side. (Not pictured: Half shaved side burn).

The Time I Got My Haircut (Part 2)

She starts the shampoo routine and seems competent, until the cutting begins. She has trouble gripping the hair and starts cutting off about 1/8^th of 1/8^th of an inch at the time. Amounts so incrementally small that I’m not even sure she was cutting hair. At the 20 minute mark, Buffy nicks herself with the hair razor and has to stop the cut to tend to the open wound on her finger. ( My immediate reaction was not for her safety, but if there was now blood in my hair. That shit does not come out.)

She returns, and now my hair is drying out, but instead of re-spritzing with water, she just keeps cutting dry hair (a no-no). At the 40 minute mark she switches to shears and starts butchering the side of my head with the tips. At one point, I swore that she cut through my skin like it was plastic wrap on Perdue chicken. She takes too much of a sideburn off, cuts the hair unevenly on each side and then considers the work done.

She calls over her supervisor again, who tells her that she missed a bunch of spots and needs to “connect” all the sides and top, after re-wetting my hair. Buffy does not re-wet my hair, instead opting to cut dry. 2 minutes later the supervisor sees that she has not re-wet my hair and scolds her (as I sit her thanking the stars that the supervisor recognized her error). Buffy openly scoffs at having to be told to do something twice and complains to me that she doesn’t get along with the supervisor. I silently plead for her not to take it out on me.

At last, at the 1 hour and 15 minute mark, she finishes, calls over the supervisor, who cleans up some spots and asks me if I’m happy. I say yes, just so I can leave. Buffy walks me to the front counter, where I go to pay (hoping for somewhere between the $10-15 range. The final total: $27. TWENTY SEVEN, which is $2 MORE than I pay for a real haircut from the professional.

I’m not sure why I included a $5 tip on something that was terribly done, but I suppose I felt bad for Buffy (who by the way, looked suspiciously like a post botox Janice Dickinson). But the fact that I gave her written down instructions (there were only 3 steps) and she still battered my head like a red headed stepchild, means that I’m obviously a sap. The lesson here is that you should never ever participate in hair experimentation.

The Time I Got My Haircut (Part 1)

For over 2 years now I have been getting my haircut by one person. I do this for 2 reasons, the first (like anyone else) is because she great work. The second is because one of my greater anxieties in life is trying to explain to the stylist what I want my hair to look like. So when you go to the same person for over 2 years they have a pretty good idea of what exactly you need. We got the process down to a science, and made each appointment less than 30 minutes (depending on if I get a mini facial, of course).

But this had to come to an end, I am moving to Chicago and I needed to grow up, so to speak. Luckily my stylist works for the Aveda branch of salons and theoretically, they all learn the same techniques and can use them. I asked my stylist to tell me exactly what to say (which it turns out, is an incredibly complicated, almost medical sounding system using words like occipital and paretial). Anxieties quelled.

So today I made an appointment at the Aveda Institute (where my stylist TEACHES!), but where students practice cutting hair. I entered to what seemed more like a laboratory than a salon and was quickly confused as there were two front desks (one near the door and one in the middle of the room). I choose the one near the door, and they looked puzzled as to why I was checking in there. So I was sent to the other. As this was happening, a friend of friend saw me, yelled for me to come over and basically confused me to the point of retardation.

I finally recognized her, said hello and went to check in. I sign a form that says (essentially) “THESE ARE STUDENTS, IF WE DESTROY YOUR HAIRCUT, WE ARENT TO BLAME.” I signed, thinking at least this is cheaper and I have instructions, how bad can it be. I was told to wait by the benches (which were hidden). After finally finding the benches, my new stylist (we’ll call her Buffy) came and got me and shook my hand with what seemed to be a limp (possibly artificial) limb. Weakest handshake ever.

She asks what I need and I tell her about my instructions and she immediately cringes and calls a supervisor. The supervisor comes over, looks at the instructions and tells her “you know how to do this.” Buffy’s face says otherwise.

The Time I Had My First Drink (Part 2)

We headed back to my friend’s luxurious studio apartment on the 15^th floor of a high rise in Philadelphia. Which was fun, because I’m deathly afraid of getting stuck in a metal elevator (Sidebar: not a clear one, just the metal deathtraps, where you can’t see where you are in an emergency, and which will surely mean you will die in an enclosed metal coffin.)

With a 6 pack of Smirnoff Ice’s in hand, I was excited to use a bottle opener for the first time in my life. No dice. Twist off cap, but at least I was able to show off my brute strength as I used the bottom of my t-shirt to rough up the bottle cap. I immediately took a swig and everyone was right. This was Sprite. Delicious, alcoholic Sprite. I’m pretty sure I went through Smirnoff Ice 1 in less than 10 minutes, followed by number 2 in another 30. I was starting to feel buzzed, but I didn’t want to get drunk, so I stopped.

Within the hour I felt an insatiable urge to eat meat in hamburger form (another contributing factor could be that we were watching Top Chef) and asked my friend for the closest fast food restaurant. It was 3 blocks away, but she wasn’t sure if it was open, so I called them and they were. We made our way down there, me not being able to walk as accurately as I would have liked to. When we got there, the Wendy’s looked akin to any fast food restaurant in any city. Workers who don’t care, long lines and scary people. I ordered a burger and chicken nuggets (5 pc) and walked away with a burger and chicken nuggets (4 pc). I was quite angered by this. This is probably how Wendy’s makes their money, shorting drunk folks on 1 nugget per order.

We got back to her apartment, ate our food, watched Season 1 Episode 1 of Party Down and then fell asleep. I woke up at 6 AM, so I could save $3 by leaving the Parking deck by 7 am. After paying $16 to be parked for 8 hours, I headed home to NJ, accidentally woke the parents up and told them I had had my first drink, so that they would be the first to know.

The Time I Had My First Drink

Many people will be surprised to read that I had my first drink. After years and years of being stubborn and obnoxious about the people around me drinking, I finally shut up and tried alcohol for the first time. The first taste was absolutely disgusting, it tasted somewhere in between the inside of a metal garbage can on the city street and berries. Wine was not for me.

But let's back track a bit. I had been thinking about drinking for months upon months now, I felt that since I was moving to Chicago, it might help to be more social, and since the only reason I WASNT drinking these days was because I hadn't done it in the past, why not at least take a shot. So a week ago, while hanging out with an old friend, I sipped this garbage can wine.

The next day, another friend (of the ex variety) wanted to have my first full drink with me (at the 3 in the afternoon). I felt since I had imbibed just a sip of alcohol, I had gotten over the no alcohol bridge and was ready to go. So we tried "something I might enjoy", a Woodchuck Amber Cider. It was definitely the closest thing to urine I've ever tasted (without ever really tasting urine.) It was absolutely awful, but I got the whole thing down by myself! I had to meet a friend for dinner, so I stopped at one, and made sure there was an hour on the clock before I had to do anything. Extremely overly cautious wouldn't even be strong enough to describe how I felt about drinking. Would there be anything worse than getting a DUI in the middle of the day, the first time you ever drink? (Other than watching "Teen Mom," of course).

Later that night, I was in Philadelphia with another friend (I was on a friend tour) and we decided to go to a bar (my first drink at a bar!). I had what she had, a Sam Adams summer ale, and it was also terrible. I knew I wouldn't enjoy something cheap like Miller Lite or PBR, but I had seen commercials for Sam Adams that included words like "rich" and "lager" and showed manual laborers in Boston really enjoying it. They are all liars. Beer is gross.

We decided to not waste any more money on things I would not enjoy and she thought I would enjoy Smirnoff Ice. So we waited in line, bought a 6 pack of Smirnoff Ice and headed back to her studio apartment to party.

Part 2 tomorrow.

The Time I Got Some Luggage

Before I even started my massive road trip my long time "suitcase" broke. The suitcase was finely made AthletiTEK, a genuine plastic duffel bag. The zipper came right off and would not go back on and thus the bag had to be put down (I briefly considered using duct tape to seal it off, but decided that airport security might tase me before I even got through the line.)

So I set off to purchase some new luggage, my mother gave me a coupon to Kohl's, but first suggested that we just ship all of my clothes to Chicago because it would be cheaper than buying luggage. I laughed at this, overzealous about my new found coupons and I was sure I could find some luggage for $40.

Apparently in the luggage world, $40 gets you a glorified plastic bag. In fact, the cheapest luggage the store had was $169, and couldn't even fit a small infant inside. After a solid 20 minutes of searching, I decided that TJ Maxx/Marshalls type stores were the way to go. Perhaps, I could get me some luggage that was so ugly real stores couldnt sell it.

Enter, Jessica Simpson.

Apparently Ms. Simpson has forgone any sort of music career to concentrate on the posh world of luggage making. I have to say, she makes some solid luggage with all sorts of compartments. The bag was the cheapest ($50), it was HUGE, and it had separate bags in bags for laundry (the one with the bikini on it) and shoes (the one with the shoes). Hidden compartments galore! (I assume Jessica added this to hide candy from her overbearing father).

The bag seems like the perfect fit for romance novel level needy women. I instantly thought "Red Shoe Diaries." And I had to have it. I'm so proud of it being a Jessica Simpson brand bag, I may not even take off the tags. I might get dressed up to go to the airport, like they did in the 60's, so that I catch people's eye, and then they bear witness to the greatness that is my bag.

Thank you Jessica, for meeting all of my travel needs.

The Time I Had the Worst Roommate Ever (Part 4)

Some of the pictures from the wreckage of having the worst roommate ever:

The infamous Peanut Butter Sandwich making station. With extra syrup for easier access to diabetes.

More dishes in the sink and an empty paper towel roll!

Dishes in the sink? Check. Dishes on the counter? Check. And in the right corner, those are plastic tupperware containers with food still in it. Mmmmmmmmm.

Who says you need a garbage can to throw away cookie dough wrappers?

The Time I Had A Quarterlife Crisis.

Currently, I am in the midst of what may or may not be a quarter life crisis. Today marks my 25th birthday (I count this as quarter life because I assume I will live to 100 with medical advancements, though I still don't have health care so the point is moot.) My 25th birthday started with promise, I was in the midst of friends
some urging me to drink Irish Car Bombs and there was an attractive single girl to be wooed. This was certainly better than the last 24, there were people here to verbally and physically wish me a happy birthday. Hugs, high fives, handshakes, it was all so glorious! But as I type this I'm sitting on my parents front porch locked out of my own car.

Let's rehash why this quarter life crisis is happening:

1) I had my first alcoholic beverage two days ago. After 10 years of being "straight edge" I decided that with moving to a new city, I should try to switch things up. I certainly wasn't happy with the social aspect of my previous life, so why not try something that I was only intentionally NOT doing out of sheer stubbornness. No one but me cares that I was straight edge. (Although I'm sure some punk kid somewhere would slice my throat if he read this.)

2) I am moving halfway across the country to a city I've visited for a combined total of 67 hours. If that isnt a sign of quarter life crisis, I don't know what is. Yes, I'm very excited for the move and to live in an actual city with people who dont religiously watch a car circle around a track for 5 hours, but let's just keep playing this game.

3) I am currently living at my parents house (only for 4 days, but still, as a 25 year old I'm currently sleeping in a room that has baseball wallpaper and teddy bears on the bed. Yikes.)

4) I have been single for more than a year now and at the tender age of 25, with seemingly all of my facebook friends engaged or married, I have basically concluded that I will die a lonely cat lady.


I turned down the Irish Car Bomb (wisely) and headed back home but stopped by 7-11 for a Mountain Dew Voltage. I decided "heck it's 1 am on your birthday, get a lottery ticket. So I asked for a $1 scratch off. The clerk gave me a wedding bell scratch off
and as I sat alone in my car in the completely deserted 7-11 parking lot at 1 AM on my birthday, I used a quarter to claw at faux wedding bells with as much anger (or sadness) than anyone who had preceeded me in scratching. I lost (of course) and returned to my parents house, where I promptly locked my keys in my car and waited outside for AAA to come unlock me.

The good news is that it's now 2 AM and I'm pretty sure the birthday can only go up from here.

The Time I Had the Worst Roommate Ever (Part 3)

This summer, I moved into a 3 month sublet in a UNC-Greensboro apartment. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to sign a long lease and would be soon moving to Chicago, so I took what I could get. Roommate 10 seemed nice at first and the girl who I was subletting from was super attractive (enough so that I probably would've dabbled in heroine for her.)

Roommate 10 was also cool enough to allow a 24 year old guy to live with her (as a 19 year old) and she knew I was in a band, and was cool with other bands full of 20 something guys who hadnt showered in weeks to stay on our floor. I thought this might be ok. (Helpful Hint: I was able to live in college housing by showing the apartment complex an application for grad school. So if you ever want to live with teenagers again, all you have to do is pretend to apply to graduate schools!)

The day I moved in, I noticed a strong hint of smoke coming from 10's room. I assumed it to be the marijuana that kids are all raving about these days, and I quickly shut all the vents in my room so that I wouldn't get contact high (it was travelling by way of the air conditioning). Days later I would find out that it wasn't just weed seeping through the vents, it was cigarettes. 10 was smoking cigarettes in her room, apparently she thought her room was Coyote Ugly.

Other fun facts I soon found out about my roommate:

She had everything pierced (EVERYthing)including her sternum. (Fun follow up on this: she didn't even want the piercing, some random piercer called her one morning and asked her to get it and she said yes. They sink the stud under neath the bone and apparently it requires surgery to remove. I feel like maybe that's not a spontaneous decision to make, but I'm prude like that.)

She was a lesbian.
She had a raspy voice, like that of a 74 year old jewish woman who had chain smoked cigarettes non stop for the last 74 years .
She had an alarm set for 2:15 PM. everyday.
She allegedly loved all other drugs other than heroine and meth. She wasn't hardcore enough for those.
She would routinely lose her key and then ask me to leave the door unlocked because She couldnt find her keys for days at a time.
She would do laundry and then use the dryer as her closet, only take out which article of clothing she wanted to wear that day.
Her bathroom broke in the first week that I was there, she asked if she could use mine that night, and said she would get hers fixed tomorrow. Tomorrow never came and she (and all of her friends) used my bathroom for the next 3 months.
She (and all of her friends) would routinely use all of my toilet paper and never replace it.
In the 3 months I lived there, she never once bought any cleaning supplies (paper towels, soap, toilet paper).
She really really loved True Blood. (So much that she had a poster collage of pictures cut out from magazines and glued to poster board. No, she was not in 8th grade).
I once had to go into the dungeon that was her room to turn off her alarm when she was out of town and I felt like vomitting. She ashed her cigarettes on tables or the carpet, her windows were blacked out and the stench of stale nicotine was intoxicating.
She rarely bought food for herself, but there seemed to be at least 4 separate bags of mozzarella cheese in our fridge at all times.
She would often eat just peanut butter sandwiches and had a sandwich making station in the kitchen to prove it. (The station included a jar of peanut butter, bread, a plate, and the same knife, for easy access).
I had about 15 drinking glasses when I moved in, when I went to pack my stuff up, I had 3.


Above everything else, my roommate was disgusting in the kitchen. In 3 months she probably cleaned 3 times. (Once when her parents were coming, because they still believed her to be a nice, clean, straight young lady). For weeks plates and dishes would stack up in the sink. Food would cake on the oven surface, wrappers would be left on the floor (she would get so high and decided to make cookies at 2 AM, then leave gobs of cookie dough in the middle of the floor. (The cookie dough resided there for 3 days, before she apologized and said she forgot to clean).

Towards the latter part of my stay, I would have friends come over and tell me that my kitchen might be the most disgusting thing they have ever seen and didn't understand how I lived there. I paid my roommate back a bit, by leaving all my food for her to deal with!

So for all the reasons listed above, that is why 10 is the worst roommate ever. Kitchen pictures coming tomorrow.

The Time I Had the Worst Roommate Ever (Part 2)

I found Roommate 9 on Craig's List (which most likely should've been my first clue about the awfulness to come). Roommate 9 went to college with me, but we only knew each other through mutual friends. He came over to look at the place and was nice enough, but I was wary after he left because he talked and talked and wouldn't leave for over an hour. Hidden in our dialog were precious nuggets of knowledge like "he genuinely liked American Idol (as a 23 year old straight male) and he really loved to do karaoke and hoped, that since I played guitar, we could "get together." He also had quite a crush on a certain professional athlete that refuses to retire every summer, and since I despise this athlete, things could get shaky around the house.

Regardless, I needed a roommate and he had a check that day! So he was in. My next clue about his awfulness was when he moved in he told me he had a couch, but it mysteriously broke the day before he was supposed to move in. He didn't have any of his own dishes or silverware, and had about 5 plastic cups (I don't mind sharing, until I realize that he doesn't do his own dishes, which sort of seems like a slap in the face since they are my dishes, that he is eating off of, and then I have to clean them. I AM NOT A DENNY'S.)

Even worse, on the day of his arrival, he asked if it would be alright to hang some posters in the common area. These posters included a "Wedding Crashers rules of crashing" posting and the completely stereotypical college poster where John Belushi squeezes into a shirt that says "college." How unique! I decided to put my foot down and let him know we werent in college anymore, if he wanted to hang posters, he had his room. I prefer bare walls anyway.

Later on, I would find out that not only did he not know how to wash dishes, but he didnt know how to use a dishwasher! Often, I would open up the washer after a clean load, and find cups stacked face up, so that they were filled with water afterwards. Faaaaaaantastic. And to complete the non cleaning trio, I figured out that in the 9 months he lived with me, he emptied the dishwasher a total of: 1 time. 1 time in 9 months!!!!! I figured this out one day when I realized that all of my utensils were put back all helter skelter. Big spoons with the little spoons, forks upside down and sharp knives with the cutting edge straight up (safety first).

There were a plethora of other things that I grew to hate about him as the months wore on: he couldn't program his own tv, or work the remote on mine, he drank southpaw beer like a champ (disgusting), he left said beer cans in my recycling bucket without ever taking out the recycling bucket making the entire apartment reek like the back alley of a bar, he ate mostly oven baked pizza (and not even Digiorno, which is by far the best), he had a girlfriend who was way too pretty for his face that was marred by acne, he had the weirdest haircut ever, like when you shave your head and let it grow out without ever getting it trimmed. So all the hair is equally long and it just sticks straight out and cowlicks like a 50's sitcom child star. He would have 3 or 4 male friends over a few times a week, but they'd only hang out in his room and pound a case of southpaw in one night (his room was very small, cramming that many guys into one room might have caused accidental penetration).

Which brings me to two of the biggest points: There were 3 separate occasions where my roommate locked me out of the apartment (yes, I had a key, but he decided that he needed to chain our door, because we lived in a dangerous neighborhood, across from a best buy and a target! Yikes!). Two of the occasions I had just gotten back from a long tour with the band, so it was about 3 o'clock in the morning. The first time, I pounded on the door, screamed loud enough for the neighbors to come outside, and he finally opened it and muttered sorry.

The second time he was much quicker about it, but it still happened, and I warned him never to do it again, it was MY apartment. So the third time it happened I was none to pleased, and luckily it was the most interesting time. First, I get home with a bag of clothes, a blanket, a pillow, a guitar amp, a guitar and a pedalboard and after making two trips up 3 flights of stairs, bed at 2 am sounded sweet. I go to open the door, but it is chained, I bang, I call his number, and nothing. Then through the crack of the door, I see his light turn on. I close the door, assuming he is coming and then 20 seconds later, he still hasnt unlocked it. I re-open the door and now the light in his room is off. I bang and bang again and finally someone comes to open the door. It is not my roommate, it is one of his shirtless friends and when he opens the door he gives me a look that says "Can I help you?" (as if I don't live there.) I push past him, in a huff (of course), and then another friend comes out and mutters a meek apology about how they didn't mean to lock the door (I hate when I accidentally walk to the front door and slide metal into metal, happens wayyyyyy too often).

My roommate was obviously told about this, and apologized to me, because he was sleeping and wasn't there to make sure it was unlocked. I did not accept. Things came to head with the worst roommate ever after I told him the lease was up at the end of April (I extended this 9 days, just to make moving easier, and I paid all of the extra cost in doing so). So when i asked for the April rent, and he decided he was only paying half (because he was moving out on the 15th), things exploded. Apparently he was still in college mode and didn't realize how the real world works, you have to pay rent for the entire month, even if you arent living there. His reasoning was that originally the move out date was the 21st and so he wasn't going to pay the whole month (even though I told him end of April form the beginning). We had a screaming match through my door after I sent him an email explaining how the real world works and he decided he would pay up to the 21st asking "IS THAT FAIR?" It wasn't fair, but it was better than less than half, so I took it and never spoke to him again. He did not clean the apartment when he left, after promising to do so 3 weeks prior. I hope he is currently burning in hell.

I thought he was the worst roommate ever, until I lived in a sublet for 3 months. Part 3 tomorrow.

The Time I Had the Worst Roommate Ever (Part 1)

I've had my share of bad roommates since roommates started existing for me (I was an only child and thus, ran around the house pretending I was the 1994 UCLA Bruins basketball team all by myself).

There was the first roommate, who, after 2 days, decided he was too wealthy to live in a dorm room, with a roommate, on the slums of campus and moved into his own apartment, where he had more than enough space to practice his short game.

The 2nd roommate, who may or may not have been Dwight from the Office. Highly anal retentive, flossing for at least 10 minutes before bed every single night, he was also an eagle scout and made sure that we were always prepared for everything (although he was never thoroughly prepared for his morning erection).

My 3rd and 4th roommates didn't actually live in the same room as I did, so it made things easier and number 3 was a crazy person, that lied to us, forgot to pay his rent one summer and thus, we moved out after 2 months.

Roommate 4 was fine, pretty quiet, funny, kept to himself, but he loved to make a mess in the kitchen and he hated (HATED) my love interest at the time.

Roommates 5 and 6 were (and still are my best friends) and living with them was pretty easy for me (barring 1 huge blow out fight with each of them at different points, one of these blowout fights was over a game of pick up football and the temperature outside. It is not something I'm proud of). Roommates 5 and 6 also probably hated me more than I hated them, because of the...veracity of some of my nightly activities with a certain new found girlfriend, but, they dont have blogs, so they cant confirm this.

Roommate 7 was one of my good friends from high school, he and I are still friends, but it just didn't work as roommates.

Roommate 8 was a friend of Roommate 6 (and after a year of living alone/with a girlfriend) needed some getting used to. Great guy, but after losing his job, he sat around the apartment all day long, doing absolutely nothing. He moved out after finding a new job 500 miles away. Which brings us to Roommate 9, the worst roommate ever.

Part 2 tomorrow.

The Time I Sold Out (Again)

So, if you are visiting this blog, you may have noticed the gigantic ad perched on top of this tiny little blog. I am selling out. After realizing the numbers in my bank account look suspiciously close to the TV ratings for a lifetime movie starring some washed up actress that has been a) beaten, b) impregnated or c) hooking just to make ends meet, I have decided to ask my friends and followers to help me out financially.

In return for you doing this, I will write blogs on a daily basis. That's right, the entire month of August, there will be a new blog. So please, help me out, send this link to your friends, and most importantly visit our sponsors!