don't be sorry, be better.

so maybe it's the constant rain we've been having for what feels like the last seven and a half years or maybe i'm just in a funk, but i can't seem to get myself out of this rut. usually, i'm a pretty happy person, but lately i just feel cranky.. like i've developed a new baseline of stabby. i don't know whether i'm just not adjusting well to being home/missing my friends or if there's another problem, but i'm sick and tired of being pissed all the time. spunky? yes fierce? sure! mad at the world all the time? not really for me.  for the past few days i've been on par with Kat Stratford ála 10 Things I hate about you pre Heath Ledger romance. I've been especially vicious while driving and even taunted a man riding a motor scooter by yelling at him that he "didn't even have a real motorcycle!" i'm turning into sue sylvester.

i'm usually pretty quick to forgive, but lately i haven't seen any reasons to forgive people. if you're going to keep fucking up and shitting on my life, why do i let you stay in it? perhaps my whole approach is childish, but i think it might be the only thing keeping me from ending up in a maximum security cell. maybe people should just try to stop pissing on my parade. don't be sorry, be better.

Chicago is an October sort of city even in the Spring - Nelson Algren

So this weekend Mike and I came to Chicago to see his family to celebrate his undergrad graduation. I always have a hard time not packing my entire wardrobe if i'm going somewhere and this trip was especially hard because the damn weather website wouldn't give me a straight answer. and since it is the middle of MAY, i figured i'd be safe only bringing one sweatshirt. i was wrong. just like in indiana for the last month it rained. the whole time. even though the weather was shit, i think i might be in love. with  chicago. i can definitely see myself living here one day. the people are so interesting and everything is exciting all the time....especially the tranny hookers in boystown. nothing beats a 6'5'' dude wearing sequins and platform gaga heels. classic.

as always, i attracted the crazies even in chicago. first the blacks at the vienna beef hotdog factory were giving me flack for not knowing what i wanted to order. listen G-eye, you have fourteen kinds of hot dog. pardon me for not knowing which one i wanted immediately on arrival, doucher. black dudes always think that since we're quasi similarly colored in that it's okay to unabashedly hit on me. sorry, dude. i'm not down. especially since you work in a hot dog factory snack shop. i like my men with letters after their names: MD, PhD, JD, POTUS. then the next day as i was walking to the car in the rain the deli guy from jewel osco decided to stop me to have a chat about my yankees hat. listen bro, it's fucking hailing and you want to have a damn conversation about my hat. then you proceed to tell me that you had to leave new york because of some 'problems'. what a winner. not. i appreciate your offer to 'hook me up' if i stop by the deli. i'm not really sure what you're going to 'hook me up' with, but i'm not in the business of trading sexual favors for deli meats. sorry, bro.

after leaving jewel osco, we made our way to winnetka to see kevin mccallister's house from 'home alone'. childhood dreams fulfilled. the outside of the house is just as cool in person and i can see why the wet bandits wanted to rip it off. over all it was a spectacular trip, and now i'm off to potbelly's: round two.

i want to be a freaking princess for christ's sake.

yes, i'll admit that i stayed up all damn night to watch the royal wedding. i mean at least i did work throughout the night so it wasn't all wasted time. let me just say, prince harry, if you're out there and reading this, i will gladly be the next princess born a commoner...and American...and half black. i mean really though, harry was looking pretty fine as always and you know how i feel about the gingers. as some of you know, my goals in life are:

1. to be an contestant on and preferably win jeopardy.

2. produce ginger heirs to the taylor throne.

so if i could knock one of those goals out along with getting a smokin' hot husband and a duchy, i'd be down. 

taylor, marry me so i can bear your gingey children.