If you call it, they will come...back to haunt you

Well the weekend kicked off with a flight back to Omaha. Thankfully no delays, hiccups, malfunctions, etc. This marked the first flight in several months that has departed and arrived on time. I brought back two half-full huge suitcases containing large but light Christmas gifts. Planning around two married (or practically married) couples and my flights created some creative Christmas celebration time. Luckily we were able to get everyone together at one point to exchange and unwrap presents. I am now the proud owner of a George Foreman grill (the old one broke) which is the best kitchen appliance on Earth. Seriously, I didn’t know what to do with myself after the last one went kaput. I mean I had to learn how to use a stove. In addition to the grill, I got a new digital Velcro watch. For those who know me, I cannot tell time. Seriously it takes me forever to tell time off of an analog watch and sometimes I even give the wrong time. Good old digital, cannot beat digital. And finally the last noteworthy gift is a giant, furry blue bathrobe. When I put it on, I look like the cookie monster. Maybe I should throw on the unicorn/fairy costume and be a Muppet on acid.

Three things to look forward to when visiting Nebraska: 1) family, 2) high school friends (wait all but two have moved away), and 3) Wal-Mart! I walked up and down those glorious aisles purchasing the basics (toilet paper, body soap, toothpaste, etc) at a low low low price. Ahhh, New York City sucks for the small necessary stuff.

Luckily I was able to catch up with the newly married Tina (a high school friend, see previous post about her wedding). The humorous part is that while we were catching up on life and town gossip, her husband and company were practicing duck calls. Imagine a conversation going “so we went to Europe for the – QUUUUUACK – moon and our flight in – QUAAAAACK – don was quite scary because the pilot had to – QUUUUAAACK – plane and ….”. All in good fun though. When her husband’s friend from South Dakota walked in, I did a double take. I could have sworn I had met him before, but I couldn’t place it. Well we all later headed to the happening new bar in town that served $4 pictures of Bush light. They also had a special on Zima’s to which I snapped a picture of. I’m telling you, this place was hopping on a Tuesday night (not including us, there were three other costumers). Here is a funny sign in the women’s’ bathroom. Here is a picture of the group.

Answer to the question: What would my little pony's Mom wear?

With the drama surrounding my Thursday night, I figured Friday would be a nice low-key day in Chicago….wrong! I checked into the work office, ate a slice of deep dish pizza (gosh I miss Chicago), and them met my friend Ryan out for a Target run. He needed to get gifts for his young cousins, and I like to hang out in the toy department cause that is where you can meet little boys…..creepy just kidding. Anyway we picked out some choice toys before I found the ultimate kiddie treat…..a unicorn fairy costume! Come on, you can dress up as a unicorn AND a fairy. I had to get it for myself (note after taking it out of the box, the wings and headband/horn fit, the belt is better suited for my thigh, I can forget about ever fitting into those gloves/hoves). The thing even had an electronic speaker that played a horse galloping and neighing! Hurrah!

That evening, the boys, Gwendolyn & her man, and I met out at “Pint” in Wicker Park. The jute box alone is worth the recommendation. We found a choice spot at the window that let us watch many drunk Santa Clauses walk by (one was on stilts and another even had a little drummer boy). The bar was having an ugly holiday sweater party in the back. Hilarious! I wish I had pictures because they were exactly what my mom used to wear (wait still wears). There were mock turtle necks with holly, sequined snowman, noel to the max, etc. What an awesome party idea! Words cannot describe the absurdness and humor. Another highlight involved a trip to the restroom. As I was washing my hands, a girl on her cell phone next to me all of the sudden whipped around and shushed the other girls. She then went back to her cell conversation. The girls in line just looked and me, and I gave the shrug to indicate “I’m not with this bitch”. One girl shouted from the stall, “did I just get shushed? I’m peeing for love of god”! She then stormed out of the stall only to find the shusher had left. The drunk surly stall girl then went off about how she would kick that girls ass for shushing her. Later, I was sitting at my table when I recognized the stall girl sitting next to us. She recognized me as well and then went off telling my friends exactly how she would throw down on that other girl. Hot chick fight….nope but we could all dream. Later we watched a girl fall up the stairs and blamed it on Big Mike or Ryan (details fuzzy by that time).

The dog said it best

I could hardly contain myself at work on Thursday afternoon because in a few short hours, I would be flying back to Chicago and Omaha for an extended vacation. Upon walking into the American Airlines terminal, there was a massive line extending the entire length of the building. This line alone must have contained over a thousand people. I thought “chumps” and proceeded to the self check-in kiosk that AA have (so wonderful and practically eliminates waiting time). Unfortunately, an airline rep told me that my flight was cancelled, as well as every flight to Chicago from every airline, every airport, etc. Yep you guessed it; I had to get into the dreaded LINE! I guess the fog was sooooo bad (zero visibility) in Chicago, that they were not letting flights land. The first hour everyone was on their cell phone calling other airlines, friends, and family to sort the mess out. By the second hour, everyone was completely defeated and we continued to wait in silence. In the third hour, a woman (about 100 people in front of me) let her dog out of the travel case because it started whimpering (poor dog had to be locked up for at least three hours…most likely more). Immediately, the dog walked 10 steps away and took a massive dump on the terminal floor. At first everyone was in shock (gross) but then a guy pointed and shouted “YEAH”! Everyone broke out in applause because the dog basically embodied what we all wanted to do to the airlines…..shit on them like they are shitting on us! Some of us in line were stopping people way ahead of us in the line (like 2 hours ahead) after they re-booked their flights. They were telling us the airline people said “I’m sorry but all of the flights in the next few days are full”….well duh, I could have told them that….it was the holidays! Anyway, they were getting flights for Christmas eve night and Christmas morning, etc. They suggested to one guy that he fly to Boston, then Miami, then Dallas, and then to Chicago. I think he stuck it out for a different option. In the third hour, a news crew approached me and asked for an interview (either I looked the most or least pissed about standing in line for three hours). I told them what I had heard about waiting three to four days before we could get to Chicago etc. Now my plan was to spend 36 hours in Chicago before switching airlines and flying to Omaha on Saturday. With the flights to Chicago so delayed, I decided to skip the city entirely and try to find a different flight to Omaha (I was willing to be dropped off in Kansas City or Iowa and drive just so I could make family Christmas). After much time waiting, it was finally my turn to approach the ticket counter. The lady asked me “so where are you flying to”? I thought “lady do you not see the massive line behind me….CHICAGO”! While she was typing in my information I told her to forget Chicago and get me to Omaha. To my shock, she said “so you don’t want to go to Chicago, because the fog is lifting and we are releasing planes to Chicago tonight”. WHAT! You mean I would get to Chicago tonight and my whole holiday plans would be intact! I started pumping my fist in the air and doing the “I’m flying to Chicago tonight instead of four days from now” dance. I called up my friend Ryan in Chicago to tell him to pick me up and that I would need a beer. The strange thing is that our flight was only half full (I had an entire row to myself). I would think that the released flights would be packed since there were over a thousand people stranded in our terminal alone. Turns out that the people who rebooked for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning had already left the airport and attempts to call them back to had failed. Too bad for them. I didn’t get into town until Midnight, but that was still enough time to meet the boys (and a very intoxicated Emily) out for a nightcap at Dan & Emily’s place. The night finished off with wicked old school music and drunken Chess.

House party with a side of salsa

Any doubts of Chicago’s night life in comparison to New York’s were erased after Saturday’s endless night. I started out with dinner in Wicker Park with my old college roommate Melanie, her British husband Gary, and his coworkers. I originally was going to meet the gang at Katie’s surprise birthday party, but scheduling got mucked up. Luckily, I was able to meet Big Mike out at a bar right across the street from my very first apartment in Chicago (Ashland & Diversey). The apartment was an absolute hell hole but hey I didn’t know any better moving up there from Kansas. We resurrected punching pictures circa 2003. After getting thoroughly blotto (don’t all my best stories start that way) at the bar, a group of us hopped in a cab to attend a house party in Lincoln Park. No Big Mike, Sammy (aka the Cubini, also the one trying to do “Blue Steel” in the pictures), and I have a history of attending lame house parties. This one was no different. As soon as we walked in, the 18 year old informed us that the keg was out. We asked them if they had any liquor and he pointed to the kitchen. Okay his idea of liquor was peppermint and peach snapuchs (sp?)! We finally found a bottle of cheap vodka and a 2-liter of Pepsi. Bad idea! We were by far the oldest people there (by like half a decade at least) which was like the last time I went to a house party with Big Mike and Cubini (sad we didn’t bring the bright green liquor Intrigue again). One guy said to me “aren’t you glad classes are over for now?” Huh, oh no wait I graduated over 4 years ago! I just gave him a look and asked him to guess my age. Ummmm 23……WRONG! I think he even added a few years to his guess because I was being bitter. He just turned 22! Actually, I have no distain for younger boys, but he was a total fratty and I was seriously loosing my buzz. I interrupted his monolog to tell him “I’m leaving” and then quickly walked off. About a half hour later he shouted from across the living room “Lindsay you liar, you said you were leaving”. Not to brag but without missing a beat I yelled back “I was leaving….you”. Ha ha ha., zing! Now the dance circle was full of young 20’s gyrating like they were having a collective seizure. Hence, we created our own old people circle. The music was modern pop music (annoying) so Big Mike hijacked the Ipod and started playing old school music (music from when we were in high school). A little “bombs over Bagdad”, Paula Abdul “straight up now tell me”, Motel Jordan ‘this is how we do it”, and the kiddies took back the DJ duties. We had enough and walked out. I waited outside the front door when the boys emerged with some magazines and an actual spare car tire! They rolled their prize down the front stairs and tried to roll it down the street. Thankfully Big Mike and I talked them into just leaving it in the lawn (come on I would have to be a lot drunker to walk off with a tire!). The closest bar we could find was a Latino disco. Sammy and his cousin are both Cuban, so they threw out the Spanish speaking love to sweet talk the bouncer lady to wave the cover. The huge room was filled with hundreds of couples dancing Salsa, Mambo, etc you name it! I mean they were actually dancing….well (like they really knew what they were doing). Now I was in awe of the dacing, but I had a good laugh with the costumes. I saw a lot of 1920’s gangster fedora hats, sequins, and white shoes…..and that is just on the guys! One guy had a bright turquoise 3-piece suit on. Now I thought that was bad until I saw his friend with a banana yellow 3-piece suit with a bright turquoise shirt. Ah ha ha ha. After a bit of standing around being the “white people”, I left to make 4:30am drunk dials and pass out in Melanie’s superb guest bed.

Back in Chicago

I was looking forward to Friday because I would be A) heading back to Chicago for the first time since moving up here and B) attending the Primera (my company) holiday party. Things didn’t start out on the right foot because the plane was delayed and I was babysitting two incapable adults. We finally touched down and had enough time to see the remodeled office and change for the party. Aside from a little drama with the seating arrangements, the party was to be expected. I highly recommend butternut squash ravioli….mmmmmnn. I took my friend Ryan as my plus one since he was letting me crash on his couch. He and I instituted the European way of eating (eating the hot food first and then finishing it off with a salad). I don’t know if it actually is a real method of eating, but it justified us not waiting to dig into the entrees. Several drinks and no dancing later (sad since last year I caught a few excellent pictures of Josh and Scott getting down) the young kids (and Belczak, ha ha ha) headed out to a nearby bar. I don’t know how, but I ended up with a single glove on my lap. By that time, the group was pretty buzzed and therefore Ryan and I declared it to be a magic glove full of witchcraft. I ended up placing it as the tree topper on the nearby Christmas tree (hey it seemed really funny at the time).

Oh my Lord!

A week full of holiday parties = funny blog entries. Thursday night was the holiday party for the New York office. I was looking forward to the party because it was being held at a super swanky and trendy club in the meat packing district. As soon as I walked in, a waiter handed me a glass of champaign with pink cane sugar around the rim of the glass. Now a perk of working with a London based Architecture firm is working with British accents. It doesn't help when these people are trying to be serious in a meeting and the way they talk makes me want to giggle. The owner/founder of the London Architecture firm is this guy Lord Richard Roberts. My first question was "is Lord his first name?". They told me that he is one of the top 10 most infulential Architects in the 20th century. Now I have never heard of him, but I guess his resume is ridiculously good. He was knighted by the Queen and then later upgraded to Lord something of something else. Anyway, a silver fox approached my little group at the party. One guy greeted the man "well hello sir" to which another guy corrected him and said "I think it is Lord instead". The man was good humored and said "no no no, it is Richard". Being the hot young piece that I am (ha ha ha) he leaned over and asked in his awesome British accent "could I trouble you for a dance?". I practically squealed like a little girl. So now I have the "I danced with the Lord" story to add to my "been there, done that" list. Boy am I using finger quotes a lot in this entry. After the official party ended, around 15 co-workers piled into Lord Richard's limo and we sped off to another bar in SoHo. The two Spainards I work with stood up out of the skylight and started yelling things in spanish to passers by. Unfortunately, that bar was a bit of a blur but I do recall trying to play pool before cabbing over to visit Marshall at work (the benefit of having a boyfriend who works at a late night bar). I must have had a good time dancing since my hip hurt like heck the next morning. Sadly there are no pictures to document the party.

French Films and Unexplained Trees

The weekend started off full throttle with a movie premier down in SoHo. Farrell said it would be a swanky affair with around 10 grand spent on the after party. Of course, Farrell padded the comp guest list with his friends. The only downside is that we had to watch the movie in order to enjoy the free top shelf liquor and gourmet food later. None of us knew what the movie would be about, but since the director also did movies like the 5th element and the Transporter, we figured it couldn't be that bad. WRONG! The movie was in black & white and FRENCH! Granted there was subtitles, but the whole story line was a total bust. Afterwards Farrell said that was 96 minutes of his life he couldn't get back and Ali proceeded to riddicule it all night. Thankfully, the after party more than made up for it. Here are some pictures of us enjoying the night out (I guess I enjoyed it too much and had to be carried home....I guess I can't hold my martini's). Ali was also in rare form.

Saturday morning came with two surprises. My doorman called me down and told me my deliveries had arrived. To my shock, there was a huge Christmas tree and a 4' diameter poinsetta plant waiting for me in the lobby. Now I didn't order a tree so I told him that it wasn't mine. In fact the name on the packing slip was "Boss" not "Bose". Turns out there was no Boss on the tenant list, no apartment number on the slip, and my name was the closest match. Therefore, I inherited one large tree and plant. He insisted that it was blocking the small lobby and that I must take it up to my apartment. My mistake for thinking he would help carry the monster plants, but nooooo. He simply shoved them in the elevator and pushed the button. Once I got to my floor, I pulled one of those leave the leg in the elevator door while trying to push the plants off. I am sure it was quite funny watching me wrestle with the leaves while the elevator door kept slamming into me. After a few phone calls to whoever may have sent me a tree (parents, etc), I realized it surely is not mine. I left a note with the doorman to let anyone know I have their tree and plant. Luckily, the girlfriend of a tenant (Jackie Boss, her name wasn't on the lease and therefore she doesn't exist) sought me out and I only had to baby sit the plants one day.

Later, I stopped by the Korean tailer/dry cleaner who was fixing a dress for me. Nothing says go on a diet fatty like a small Korean woman pushing and pinching your fatty midsection around while yelling in Korean to her assistant. Seriously, she would talk for a minute and then the assistant would say "she say make smaller" and point to your waist. I'm thinking, there is no way that is only what she said. Oh well, the bright side was the sign on the deli next door. Yes I am that immature.

Awkward situations

As a girl teenager, we read mags like Seventeen and Teen Beat, etc. They would always have stories about a young girl being mortified by something (either a Mother presesnt during a "date" to the movies or accidently belching in class). Well I figure as an adult, the so called mortifying experiences are quite funny. For example, Marshall and I were watching Family Guy (the funny cartoon and not depressing movie) last night. One part made me laugh so hard that I farted. The fart itself sounded more like a car horn than anything. Anyway, I at first sneaked a peek at his face (to see if he was embarassed or grossed out, etc). When we looked eye-to-eye, we both busted up laughing. Hurrah for immature adults!

37 pieces of flair

Short post since the weekend practically consisted of watching TV on the couch. I call it my winter pre-hybernation prep (hey is was cold here.....not nearly as much as Chicago). Friday night, I met Nick, Farrell, Bethany, Marshall, and Bethany's sister & friends out at this Trailer Park bar in Chelsea. Seriously, this place had a real trailer inside the bar. The place was decked out in so much flair from the signs, pregnat maniquins, and drinks. The occasion was to celebrate Bethany's birthday (I think 24 or something) and her lead in a possible super bowl comercial. The comercial is for Doritos chips and we tried to get her to smuggle us some back. Mmmmmn cheesey goodness. Farrell ordered a $26 drink and boy did it not dissappoint. It came in a real pinapple and had so much flair that it was almost un-drinkable (pity). Actually, the liquor they filled it up with was quite strong and that one drink alone polished off Farrell for the night. Later Marshall and I got a nightcap at Nick's downtown apartment. This was seriously the nicest apartment (lobby, apartment, hallway, roof-top terrace, etc) I have yet to see in New York. Can I say possible new years eve party? The night was rounded out with drunken food purchases (Cheetos, nachos, gatoraide, and a Dr. Pepper).