Life Lately In Pictures: Chicago, Hoarding Accusations, Catfish & Awkwardness

Life has been full of changes lately.

Not in an “awkward teenager changes” sort of way. Or in a Tupac sort of way. But in more of a Stevie Nicks sort of way. Sort of. And I apologize that I’ve been so busy eating Sour Patch kids while seeing Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1 over and over again that I couldn’t find time to blog about all these changes. Can you just respect that?  You could have it a lot worse. I could be writing daily posts about my vegan lifestyle or posting pictures of my midget sized dog with eye crusties, wearing lame outfits and discussing how he told me he hates the colder weather.

Black Friday

So after I had the uncomfortable talk with my parents about my real ethnicity, I took the train in to Chicago to spend the rest of my Black Friday meeting up with Jess from Stumbling Toward Nirvana.

Welp. Ever seen that movie Catfish?

Yea, this was nothing like that. But given the grab bag of creepy, random experiences that is my life, I brought a video camera just in case. Fortunately, I must tell you that the red-headed writer is everything that she appears to be – awesomesauce with a sprinkle of cinnamazing.

Dad’s 60th Surprise Party

Of all the uncertainties in life, there is one constant that I can bank on: when I use my dad’s camera for any reason, I will find various self portraits of him in perplexing, yet familiar locations.

You might remember this one I posted last Christmas. It might seem like confusing self portraits of my dad are becoming your yearly Christmas gift. And you might be right.

If you remember correctly, I took a poll on what we all thought he was doing in this picture. And although “a Christopher Lloyd impression” was a good guess, it turns out he actually just finished some drywall and my mom had requested he remove his shirt before entering the house. I’m still waiting to hear back from Angela Lansbury as to why he thought it necessary to document this. I will update you as soon as I receive the investigative summary.

So last month I was using my dad’s camera, and you know how sometimes the universe is just on your side? Well such was this. More self portraits. And it so happens that I had just sent out the invites for my dad’s 60th surprise birthday party.

I may or may not have blown them up and scattered the around the room.

Actually, yea. I probably did do that.

He got over it as soon as he tasted my BBQ meatballs. If I could just ship some of those meatballs to the Middle East, I’m confident those suicide bombers would start thinking twice. The meaning of life could be found in those meatballs.

That party was a lot of work but there is no one in the world who deserves to be celebrated more than my dad.

Christmas Decorating

In my spare time, I’ve been elfing my way around to all my friends houses helping string lights, decorate trees and making sure that their houses are Christmasy enough for me to visit.

And in my spare, spare time, I have decided to help my dad get organized. I decided this after needing to grab something from his workshop and seeing this:

After immediately calling AEtv and submitting an application for Hoarders: Buried Alive, I put my gloves on and we got to work. My dad’s defense was that everyone throws their extra stuff in his workshop. By everyone, I’m assuming he means my mom since that’s the only other person around.

He denied accusations of hoarding, but you tell me.

I have returned to blogging over at Celery and the City where I write about clean eating, healthy living and post allergy and gluten free recipes!

Life Lately In Pictures: Road Trippin & Lady Elaine Fairchilde

I have a billion things to get caught up on today. Which is exactly why I just started a Lady Elaine Fairchilde Twitter account three minutes ago. In fact, she just tweeted her first pic: “Missin my peeps from the ‘hood today. Went 2 ChuckECheese 2b around other creepy puppets w/ wood faces.” She’s also claimed the hashtag #puppetproblems.

So, back to why I was MIA this week. Unlike all the other times I have BS excuses, this one is legit. I got a text from my friend Kira on Monday: “I need to talk to you for two seconds. You’re gonna listen, then say yes, and then figure it out later.  Mmmk?”  Um.

Kira is a virtual friend and partner of mine over at The College Crush. She lives in Madison-ish, and I live in Chi-area but we’ve only hung out once. Well, she was speaking at the University of Michigan and wanted yours truly to accompany her. Apparently, one hang out is all it takes for someone to know that any kind of a trip would be better if I were in the passenger seat.  Some things in life are just blinding truths.

Kira: Just say yes.

Me: But, I have so much to do this week.

Kira: I’ll make an awesome play list, bring a basket of snacks and pick you up at your door.

Me: Eh.

Kira: My plan is to be done speaking by 1 and drinking martinis by 2 on Wednesday.

Me: You have my address right?

This is me putting on my best “Yay, we’re about to embark on a road trip” face, when on the inside I’m thinking, “I can already feel the car sickness and misery from my undersized bladder having to overextend itself.”

Kira may or may not have mentioned the trip would be 4 hours. Yea, nope.

Of course, the 8 hours probably could have been shortened had our main agenda not been to find a particular restaurant we were craving. It also would have gone shorter had we not gotten sidetracked by making fun of all the adult store names in Hammond, Indiana. Once we got closer to the hotel, Kira was telling me that she researched the reviews to find us a good one.

Me: As long as it doesn’t have a door that leads to the outside, I’ll be okay.

Kira: Well, crap. I don’t know if it does. You should have said something.

Me: Aren’t you aware that’s how all horror movies start?

Kira: It’s going to be fine. And if not, I’ll get us a different one tomorrow.

Me: I’m not that high maintenance. It’ll be okay. {hyperventilates}

Well, after checking the mattresses for bedbugs, securing my luggage up off the ground, barring the door shut with a chair and switching out the blankets for my own…. we cracked open some wine and relaxed. But I’m not sure how our nightstand ended up like this in the morning.

The next day, Kira and I empathized with the students and their parking problems. There wasn’t a spot for miles. Kira put on her glasses and we made like teachers. We’re a class act.

Apparently we weren’t the only ones who were depressed by the parking issues…

After Kira’s speech, we went out with some of the coolest, smartest, awesomest college students ever. They just didn’t make em like this back in my day. We may or may not have persuaded them to skip classes to hang out with us.

As promised, martini was in hand by 2pm.

Then again at 2:15. Ahem.

Then we kidnapped one of the students and made him show us good pizza places. We chose this one based on the Christmas lights, but lucky for him it had amazing pizza too.

Oh, did I mention both Kira and I are gluten intolerant?

And did I mention all we did was eat gluten on this trip from start to finish?

What we lack in self control we make up for in awesome. I learned long ago you can’t have it all.

So yea, I’ll be around to your blogs very soon.

I have returned to blogging over at Celery and the City where I write about clean eating, healthy living and post allergy and gluten free recipes!

Fall Is Coming And You Better Be Happy About It

Dear Fall,

If you were a handsome man wearing a skinny tie, I would enter a lifelong, monogamous commitment with you never look back, which is a bold statement coming from someone who will probably change their child’s legal name at the age of three. Even if you didn’t have the skinny tie. If you were a food, I would eat you every day. If you were Neil Diamond reincarnate… well, just… you never would be. ‘Cus you’re too perfect.

I think I started to love fall because it meant the start of the school year. And things that smell like Christmas morning. And layered clothes. If you don’t live in a place where you have a change of seasons, my soul cries out in anguish for you. I know that you think your Christmas palm tree and your New Years Even sweat ‘stache photo is fantastic, but you’re really missing out. Here in Illinois, it’s starting to get that teeny tiny crisp in the air at night and I love it. That means that all things wonderful are packing their bags and headed my way.

Soon, the days will start to fade and sunshiny nights will be replaced by candles, blankets and anything that smells like cinnamon.

 Rainy fall days have to be my favorite thing. 

It also means the perfect kind of weather to cuddle up on the couch with a vintage copy of War & Peace.

But, I’d rather use it as a prop for my lamp. I like to think I’m giving more meaning to the book’s life.

I don’t know why I draw the correlation between globes and fally stuff. But I do. I’m sure it can be traced back to some sort of traumatic childhood experience involving creamed corn. Sick.

So, if you live in one of those gastly warm-all-year-around places, I suggest you plan yourself a trip to come visit me. I’ll make you a caramel apple spice latte and we can wear hoodies and play in leaves and stuff.

It will be a disgustingly awesome time.

P.S. I loved reading all your comments on Understanding Right Brainers: The Curse of the Creative. This is why I even have this blog, because I can meet people like you, who make me feel somewhat normal. You’re all insane in your own way and I love it!

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

Fun Fair = A Loose Interpretation Of Both Fun And Fair

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a fair or not. Here in the Midwest, fairs are kind of a big deal. It’s all the farmers and corn and cows and stuff.

Thus, I have very specific expectations in mind when a “fair” is involved. There needs to be a hint of funnel cakes mixed with farm animals in the air. Questionable Carnies lurking in the shadows. A poorly assembled, rusted out Ferris Wheel. So you can imagine my disappointment when I helped my friend Jo out with a local fun fair for her workplace.

When you add “fun” in front of “fair” it apparently takes all of the awesome things out of a fair and substitutes it with cute, sticky, and greedy children who are attempting to eat their body weight in snowcones – which we were supplying along with cotton candy.

Anyway, we rose early on Saturday morning and loaded up the box truck to head out to the fun fair.

P.S. Nothing makes you feel quite more like a pedophile than driving around in a big box truck with a snowcone and cotton candy machine in the back.


I don’t know when she’s gonna finally realize that I’ll never stop taking pictures of her.

As we were circling for about and hour trying to find the place, I may or may not have noticed a Big Kmart with a Little Caesars blow up man out front. This information came in handy when we reached our destination and realized we had an hour to kill. Don’t even think we didn’t polish off a large hot n’ ready at 10:30am, while sitting next to the men’s underwear section.

Not to say that we couldn’t finish the rest, but we did start feeling like pigs a little bit. The confused looks from the cashier weren’t helping.

Back at the Fun Fair, we became cotton candy and snowcone making afficianados.

We may or may not have eaten all of our mistakes.

Seriously, she just needs to stop trying to hide.

That is an expert at work, my friends.

I don’t know if you’ve ever made cotton candy. I don’ t know why you would have, unless you ARE a Carnie (in which case I apologize for previous statements) but it’s probably the grossest, stickiest, cobwebbyest job ever.

Then someone came by with free ice cream sandwiches. I was taught never to turn down free treats from strangers.  The universe just didn’t want us to win that day.

By the end of the day, my cotton candy was so fluffy and perfect that the kids didn’t even want to go near any other forms of air-blown sugar.

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

Life Lately In Pictures: Failures Brought To You By My Camera Phone

I had like 7 dreams last night.

First, I was shot in the stomach and pulled the bullet out myself, while driving to the hospital. Then, I was being chased through the jungle by kidnappers. Then, I was eating cupcakes in my mom’s kitchen as I watched my dad get assaulted in the backyard.

Now either I really need to stop eating hummus before bed, or I need to quit falling asleep to 24 on Netflix.

You know how when you have so much going on in your head you feel overwhelmed even trying to put together a cohesive thought? Well, I can’t even choose which thought I’d like to try to put together at this point. That’s bad.

So, instead, I’m going give you a glimpse into my past week, which consisted of consecutive failures on my part. And on the universe’s part.

I’m gonna kick this one off with my mom’s birthday dinner, when my dad, who couldn’t wait for the waitress to bring him a spoon, ate his ice cream with a butter knife. Like a 5 year-old. Except not even that, cus they aren’t allowed to play with knives.

The next day, I was attempting to sit down on the couch with some food, watch TV, and relax for like two minutes. As I went to grab the blanket on the couch, it knocked over this glass onto my carpet, which was full of cranberry juice. Not only cranberry juice though, ground flax seeds because they are good for the ticker and you know how I almost had that heart condition. Ever try to get cranberry juice out of cream carpet? How about when it’s mixed with ground seeds? Oh, but what you can’t see is the wine glass that was still there left from the night before, which landed on the other side of the coffee table and splashed red wine all over the side of my white couch.

My friend Jo (eye patch girl) and I have decided start walking on a quasi-regular basis. We started last week. I also started discovering that McDonalds cheeseburgers are not only delicious when drunk, but also when you’re about to go for a walk.

When in the middle of the worst storm you ever remember having, while staring at a funnel cloud, it’s a bad time to realize you live in an upper unit condo, with absolutely no tornado plan whatsoever. Or flashlight. Or radio.

While setting up for your grandparent’s garage sale, this is high on the list of things you don’t want to discover.

Stumbling upon an entire AISLE of varieties of boxed wine. It was like a hidden paradise.

My nightstand the next morning. That is crust from a sandwich that I apparently demanded at 4 a.m. because I couldn’t get my hands on any McDonalds cheeseburgers.

Finally being in the mood to paint and then when you get all the colors home they look NOTHING like they did in the store, under the stupid florescent lighting. Yet another reason why it should be banned from the world. So, then you take it back 70 times to have it remixed and then you just decide to watch 24 on Netflix cus it’s too dark to paint.

Last week, when we were supposed to go walking, the apartment building next to Jo’s got struck by lightening and burned down. She also manages the apartments and so she was obviously preoccupied for a couple days. Then, Tuesday night, her car broke down in my driveway as we were about to drive to the park.

This girl will stop at nothing to get out of exercise.

It broke down in an “inappropriate parking spot” so I had to leave legitimate warnings for the neighbors.

We actually DID end up walking that night. But it doesn’t matter, cus the next day Jo needed to have a late night talk and I happened to have a 2-for-1 Steak N Shake shake coupon. It’s kind of our thing. We can’t have serious any kind of talks without them. Try the Key Lime if it’s the last thing you do. It’s got graham cracker crumblies on top!

Sigh.

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

Life Lately In Pictures: Brought To You By My Camera Phone

It started out like any other Wednesday night in my living room. Except my hip had just popped out of joint, and I was sitting across from my friend Jo, who was wearing an eye patch.

I’ll address your concerns later. But basically, she chemically burned her eye and my hip always pops out of joint, rendering me helpless for about an hour or so. The doctor said working out would help to prevent the problem. Translation: I’ll have this problem for life.

As we were talking about the travesties and paranoias of our lives, while simultaneously trying to diagnose our relational hang-ups, she went to the bathroom. So, I got up and started hopping down the hallway to my bedroom. As I bypassed Jo in the bathroom, the door was open and she was applying a face mask. Around the eye patch.

I’m not sure what it was about that extremely pathetic moment, but I started laughing so hard that my one good leg gave out on me. Then, Jo, like any wounded heroine, came over to assist me in walking down the hallway. Only problem was that my bum hip was on the right side and her bum eye was on the left.

One of our friends said, “Together you guys make the perfect pirate.”

I’m not sure if we make the perfect anything. Then, we sat on the couch, drank boxed wine out of plastic cups, while we commented on each others FaceSpace statuses about the events of the evening.

In other news, life has been busy. And, I’d like to attempt to explain it, but who has the energy? So, I’m going to give you a brief overview in pictures, compliments of my camera phone.

My dad gave my grandma Mother’s day flowers, except she didn’t have a vase. So he made one out of a lemon-lime pop container.

My best friends moved away to California, again. Except this time, they took their newborn with them! How dare they! I miss trying to eat his head.

This is how I looked for the entire week after the move. It could also be because there are two country finalists on American Idol.

Then, I ate nothing but carbs for a day or so. And my scale gave me a subliminal message.

I babysat this girl, and her little sister. I’ve had my fill of Tinkerbell, play-doh and pink stuff for the rest of my life.

I ran out of spoons. It didn’t slow me down.

I got my first Starbucks cake pop, and at first I was grossed out cus it looked like an eyeball. Then, I was just grossed out cus it was gross.

A lot of these pictures have to do with food. … I’m not sure what that means.

I’m gonna eat the rest of this sandwich and get back to ya.

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

Blunt Bites: An Old Italian Guy Named Joe

[ DISCLAIMER: Blunt Bites break away from my normal, detailed laugh-out-loud (right?) posts. They are like snapshots of a significant part of my life. Sometimes, they’re serious. Sometimes, they’re funny. But they’re always gonna be delicious. Yum. ]

I met Joe while working at a retirement home and almost instantly, we connected. During my first week of work, he pointed out my dark hair and ever since then we’ve fought over whose Italian grandma made a better spaghetti sauce. Now, every time I see him he gives me a hug and says he loves me.

At night, sometimes he sits down and shows me the scrapbook his daughter made for his 90th birthday. It’s filled with pictures of the Navy, his three daughters and his late wife along with letters from all the friends, family and neighbors that he has meant so much to over the years. After reading those letters, you can tell just what kind of a life Joe lived.

After he turned 90, Joe told me that he finally realized he wasn’t going to live forever.  He said he wanted to start “doing things,” and he didn’t understand why none of these old guys “ever want to spend their money.” I told him that I didn’t understand it either, since money doesn’t mean anything anyway. We went through the activity book and I signed him up for every single thing.

I asked Joe if he had any advice, based on his experiences. He said, “Find a pretty girl like yourself and realize how lucky you are.” I laughed and responded, “Joe. That doesn’t really help me out very much,” and he said, “Oh, I think it helps you out more than you realize.”

Then he followed it up with, “Yea, I’m a flirt. So what? Keeps me young.”

When I asked if I could take his picture so that I could always remember him, Joe said he was honored that I thought he was worth remembering.

More photos: Indigo Photography

A Photo Shoot And A Scientific Breakthrough

Alright, Science. Get your gloves on, cause we’re about to box. I know you think you can jack with our diets every other day by releasing new information regarding the detriments of coffee, and eggs and high fructose corn syrup, and yet you conveniently forget to report other pertinent information regarding the mental instability of babies. What gives you the right? Perhaps you are just fearful that revealing the truth might cause the human race to fizzle out like a Matt Leblanc spin-off. Well, maybe you’re right, but the people deserve to know.

HYPOTHESIS: All babies are born with bipolar disorder. Future parents, don’t be alarmed: there is nothing you can do to prevent this. This fact is nondiscriminatory – it transcends gender, socioeconomic status and ethnicity. I’m not revealing this to freak you out or to scare you off procreation – it is just a simple fact of life.

This is not a photography tutorial, but I will still offer you a tip: if you happen to find yourself photographing or in the company of a newborn, you will need to keep this in mind. Please remember that when a “disorder” is involved, you must be patient. The child cannot help the fact that they are completely inconsolable one moment and perfectly content the next, with no earthly explanation for these vast extremities.

Oh, and science, just when you thought I was stupid enough to make lofty claims without the data to back it up, I have proof!

DATA:

“Hey guys, it’s me! Just being sweet and checking out the world.”

“I hate this world!! And everything in it! Including YOU!”

“I think I’m gonna lay here, nice and quiet.. like a rotisserie chicken.”

Zzzzzzz…..sweet dreams of BBQ flavored baby food…

“Hey guys, look at me! I’m like a little dinosaur!”

“Ahhhh! The turmoils of life!!! They are just too wretched to bear!”

Zzzz… walking through a meadow filled with flowers shaped like pacifiers…

“I am so pleased with the way my life is shaping up. So many things to write down in my Oprah’s Best Life gratitude journal.”

BAM! ROASTED, Science. Next time you’ll think twice before questioning me.

**Disclaimer: This is the child of two of my very closest friends. He is wonderful and perfect, no matter how much he cries. And his auntie Blunt will always give him honest advice about the ladies.

More photos: Indigo Photography