Taking Such Good Care of Myself

I’m dying of cholera over here (read: it’s a head cold) and therefore don’t have much energy or any experiences worth posting about, but I did want to share this picture of the box of crackers I was eating last night:

Do you see that?  “Natural flavor with other natural flavor”?

I feel so conscientious about the things I put into my body.

My Early-Morning Adventure

Here is what happened this morning:

I got to my bus stop and sat down to wait for the bus. 

A man got off a different bus and sat down on the bench next to me.

He was very close.

He was smiling way too much.

He said hello.

I thought OH NO.

I said hi.

He said what’s your name?

I told him my first name.

He told me his first name.

He said you’re beautiful!!!

I said thank you.

He said you smell good!!!

I said thank you.

He said can I get your phone number?

I said no.

He said oh, cause I thought I could get your phone number.

I said no thank you.

He said you wanna t-shirt?

He showed me his plastic bag full of t-shirts.

I said no thank you.

He said you work down here?

I said mmhmm.

He said you work over there?

He pointed to the American Apparel across the street.

I said no.

He said you’re beautiful!!!

I said thank you.

He said are you Cinderella?

I said no.

He said are you Snow White?

I said no.

We sat in miserable silence for a million years.

He said what bus you waiting for?

I said it doesn’t matter.

He said nah, it doesn’t matter.

My bus came and I fled.

The end.

City and Country

Last night I got rid of my futon because the futon frame kept collapsing to the ground and flinging my legs up into the air if I sat on it just the slightest bit wrong.  It was kind of interfering with my sleep, so I banished it from my life and bought a twin size bed from my roommate, one she’d been storing, unassembled, in various parts of the apartment for a while. 

I think we were both happy about this arrangement: I get a bed, she gets to move all the pieces out from behind the couch and out from next to her bed and out of the closet.

So now, thanks to having just a twin size bed that’s on a fairly high frame, I get more space in my teeny tiny little city bedroom and I also get up high off the ground.

This means that I can sit on my bed and look out my window with no trouble at all, and I have a wonderful view of:

the community garden!

I am not allowed in the garden because I am not an old person living in the senior citizen home, but that’s okay, because now I can see it anytime I want from the comfort of my lovely new bed.

And look what I saw this morning!  Can you spot it in this picture taken with my cell phone camera which is less than wonderful quality?

Yes, that is a rabbit.  A big fat tan-colored rabbit that sat in the garden and ate vegetation while I watched and sipped my coffee.

Nature exists in Chicago, and it is cute.

I just wanted you all to be aware.

In other news, I have a great new job that I am just hoping turns into something long-term.  But I have to walk almost a mile from the bus stop to my office building each morning (and back each afternoon), which was starting to make my feet and shins complain. 

So I bought these.  They look professional and dressy but feel like sneakers:

They’re Privos.  This is not an advertisement; I’m just really psyched about my new shoes.

(And excuse my veiny feet up there.  Perpetually pale skin plus years of ballet training does not a pretty foot make.)

Peace!

Question of the Day: #116

Is this some kind of new phenomenon I am missing out on?




 I have seen two different men wearing this shirt in the entire month I have lived in Chicago.

In any case, it is hilarious and I love it.

FYI...and a Question

I have accepted a temporary job at a university in the vicinity of the Chicago area (yes, that’s vague), so my posts might be a little less frequent in the days ahead, and I thought my 3 or 4 total readers ought to know.

Weathered bloggers like this one will tell you that you ought to try to post something every day, to keep the page fresh and alive and growing, and I’ve tried to be pretty good with posting at least every other day or every third day (obviously I haven’t been perfect, but I’m trying). 

That being said, does anyone have any advice for making this thing better? 

I’m not going for world fame or anything, but…I feel like this blog is kind of boring right now and I’m not sure how to improve it.  Maybe once I start having friends and an exciting life, it will get better. 

Til then, though, constructive criticism is welcome!

Thanks and love!

P.S.  The blog I linked you to above is one of my favorite things.  On the same note, I am secretly 40 years old.

The Best Thing Ever: #27

Here is what I saw last night:

A restaurant with live music.

The live music was an old man.

The old man was dressed in a business casual grandfather sort of way, in pressed khaki slacks and a short-sleeved button-down shirt.

The old man was playing the marimba.

By “playing the marimba,” I mean hitting it sporadically, not necessarily creating any sort of melody or rhythm.

The old man was also singing what I can only describe as a “sailor song,” meaning that it had kind of that yo-ho-ho quality to it.

The man’s voice was rather high and warbled.

The restaurant patrons did not look like they were loving the music.

And that is why this was the best thing ever: it made my day.

Ballerina Neurosis

I’ve been getting back to my ballet roots lately by taking adult classes at the Joffrey, which has been fun.  It’s nice to start dancing again and not worry about things like performances, or pointe shoes, or the fact that I don’t have a perfect dance body or very high extensions or perfect turnout.

I can just go and take class and get on with my life, which is perfect.

At least that’s how it is in theory, because the first night of class, I was nervous enough to do this to my fingernail:





I had to very poorly edit this in MS Paint to recapture how much blood there was.  Apologies.  I don't have Photoshop.

Remember that scene from Black Swan?  I considered finding it on YouTube and posting it here, but I just didn’t want to put myself through that part of the movie again. 

I did the same thing yesterday during a job interview.  I had a big bloody hangnail by the end of it.  Luckily there was a big table in between myself and the interviewer, so he couldn’t see how my nerves were being represented on my body.

Oh, and I got the job, so there’s that.  J