familia

last night i drove out to the burbs to visit my dad.
amid the sox game, many topics were discussed:

we talked about pfc lenny and his death in relation to my pfc brother.
we talked about growing out of friendships and relationships.
we talked about the remnant of my black eye and how i should pick up racketball ("you know, your brother mentioned he started playing...")
we talked about the white sox and how they need to support their pitcher with some actual offense.
we talked about the "worst movie ever made" and how we can only watch stuff like that together with joe.
we talked about me inheriting his car this month and how i needed to bring my laptop out when i visit this weekend so we can order military geer and print more pictures of joe and me out for him.



i love this man.

you should see the other guy. no really!

i smashed my face this weekend.
on another girl's face.
we were both running full speed.
from two different directions.
at the same goal.
a frisbee, of course.

the crack heard round the world.
no really, people said on the next field over players stopped playing for a moment because they heard that horrible cracking sound of bone hitting bone.

the outcome:
me- black eye, swollen jaw joint, bruised cheek bone, tender face overall, painful jaw muscle
her- a trip to the hospital, a level 4 concussion, a split brow that needed 2 stitches, and i'm sure some bruising as well.

i iced my face for 45 minutes then played the rest of the weekend.

lesson learned: i am invincible.

(as requested):

broken ankles

this week flew by for me.
but it's been one drained of any meaningful sleep, unfortunately.

marincic asked tuesday night, after i came out and threw a disc for a couple hours at arrigo, if i had had a good day at work because i seemed happier than usual.

i think i definitely am happier than i've been in a long time.
and it has nothing to do with "looking to the future" or anticipating cool new things, because i've always done that and have always been certain of myself attaining all sorts of cool new goals and ideas. it's more about my now. it's a happy now.



also, i stuck it to the credit card company this week! i'm super proud of myself for handling that.
and today i think i'm going to write a letter to seinfeld complaining about rachel's and my treatment at the seinfeld campus tour yesterday. maybe i can get some cool swag out of this. either that or i need to learn how to photoshop.....

why would we want privacy?

i've been watching cass's "my so-called life" dvd series.

oh, 90's teen angst. i love this show.

some things we never outgrow i think.

you know, sometimes i think i'm a 32 year old woman trapped in a "looks younger than 23 year old body" who skipped most of her "act like an irresponsible teenager years." because of this, i think in some instances, my unresolved teenage immaturity leaks out into my adult life.

well, it can leak out, but in all honesty, it probably doesn't leak quite enough.





hmm...i really miss my cat

as close to new york as chicago can get

i was treated to a lovely lunch with colleagues of mine today on the dime of the university.
we went to tuscany where i ordered a coke as my drink.
the drinks arrived: a diet coke for him, a water with extra lemons and limes for her...a RUM AND COKE for me...ahh! what?!

susan: um, excuse me, I ordered just a coke. no rum.
waiter: yes, a RUM and coke. what you ordered! here!
susan: uhhh, no, you must have misheard, just a coke, please!
waiter: yes, here you go! RUM AND COKE for you!

i was horrified and embarrassed. here i am, out to a scholarly lunch with work colleagues who i hardly know, discussing topics and people i know nothing about, blatantly both the youngest and least experienced person by at least 6 years of education, not to mention years of age...and the waiter decides to announce (jokingly as we all realized 15 agonizing seconds later) that i ordered rum in my coke at my professional luncheon.

the waiter went on to attempt to take my plate half-way through the meal, refuse to let me box the remainder of the meal, offer to box the food and the plate together, and deny my professor's university credit card.
hilarious.



kinda like when i flew to california last week and on the morning flight out there i asked the flight attendant if she had any hot chocolate, and she somehow heard "alcohol" and started listing off the types of vodka they carried. all this at 8:30am while everyone else on the flight was drinking their apple and orange juices.



i am such an alcoholic.

dino-might

i'm starting to feel that familiar and always fleeting itch...that itch that typically will lead to a creation (or half-creation) of something on canvas using oil paint sticks.

i love how crude and unrefined oil paint sticks can be. they help me resist that always present, self-destructive urge to make things perfect. oh, and texture, yea!

i have a tendency to start and stop paintings multiple times over a span of years. since i paint for me, the urgency to complete a painting is diminished while my ability to aesthetically and casually judge a "finished" product becomes inherent and easier.

it's been my policy to never paint for someone other than myself. and i stand by this because agreeing to paint for someone else means taking on added pressure to create a painting that someone other than myself will find appealing. even when i paint something that adheres to my sense of taste and personal meaning, i've found it loses something important when transferred to another's possession. i think the only people i would be willing to paint for are my family because they HAVE to like it (similar to the "am i beautiful?" question) and at the very least, would love it based on the fact that it's a product/representation of their totally beautiful daughter, haha.


....and with all that said, i'll probably come home from work and decide i don't feel like painting!

[UPDATE: i went home and baked delicious pumpkin muffins instead]

you guys...

cass and i watched joe's apartment tonight.
and i made under-cooked meat for the second time in a row (dammit!)