Four Confession Friday

I have a fantasy that I cannot shake.

It involves Mr. Jarcy and I moving to New York City. Well it not only involves moving there, it simply is the fantasy.

I don't know why but it has taken over lately. And I still love my home in Chicago. Mr. Jarcy and I have never lived outside of these Illinois borders, it just seems like we should break free some day, ya know? I've been surveying our home and mentally throwing stuff out...clothes we'll never wear again, vases left over from flower gifts, books, etc. Sometimes the fantasy has the cats coming with us and other times they're pawned off on relatives. Naw, they have to come, I'm way to dependant upon them. I've shopped around for an apartment that will be 1/3 of our Chicago's size for 3 times the rent. And I'm okay with that.

Yep, I'm moving. We're moving. For now it just exists in my head but maybe that's just the beginning.

Chit Chat Chatter

I'm noticing something about myself...

I sure like to talk when Mr. Jarcy is around. Like a lot.

I'm gabby regardless but in the last few days I've noticed it more. Today I met my new neighbor who just moved back to the city and is beyond excited to be here. She talked for minutes without taking a breath and I felt kind of wiped afterwards! Very nice woman, can't wait to see her more...but I was hoping she'd slow down with the words after awhile.

I'm also wondering if I'm not really getting to the point--or a point for that matter. Last night I gave this long winded explanation of how and why I made iced tea. I told Mr. Jarcy all about boiling water and determining how many tea bags went into the boiling portion before adding cold water after brewing. On and on and on I went. Believe me, anyone else might have simply walked off in the other direction. But not Mr. Jarcy. No, no, he listened and even asked questions. It seemed like we were on the same page.

This morning Mr. Jarcy asked my what the brown liquid in the new pitcher might be. Throughout my entire blah, blah, blah of making tea I somehow missed the most direct and obvious points which were (1) I made tea, and (2) it's in the fridge in that new container.

From now on I'm applying the idea of economy of words to all interactions. Except for possibly this blog.

If I Ever See US Weekly Again It Will Be Too Soon

Now listen, I am obsessed with celebrity gossip just as much as the next gal. In fact, I am even more so. I peruse Perez Hilton and Pink Is The New Blog as if my life depends on it. But here is the celebrity bullshit that even I cannot handle. The Paris Hilton incarceration press coverage is a given, even children living in third world villages are sick of her shit.

1. Jessica Simpson just lost close to 25 lbs! WOW, isn't that great!?? Yeah, except that this is a top story every few months! It's called yo-yo dieting and severely unhealthy. At least I keep my solid 25 lbs on.

2. Just how many preschools do the Jolie-Pitt kids attend? Every week they seem to be in a new country and, therefore, a new school. Last month they were in Prague and now I see photos of a doting Brad Pitt dropping them off somewhere in NYC. Am I the only one thinking this jet-set lifestyle could afford not only a private plane but also a private tutor? Seriously.

3. The incessant "baby bump" watch when stars wear baggy dresses. Are they pregnant or just photographed at an unflattering angle???? OH GOD, WHAT IS TRUTH?!

I'll be the first to sign up for the Fafarazzi fantasy league again but right now I just cannot take it.

Strength In Libations

You know what? The weather is too friggin' nice to blog that much. I was looking back over my months of blogging and, like most hobbies I start, was way more into it in the beginning. That said, it is also GORGEOUS outside and, therefore, have been making the most of it. Over the course of the winter my ass has become as big as the size of our national debt. I just can't have that. So I've been walking my way to slimmer buns. Right now I want some cake super bad, thank god we don't have any. It's also a blessing that Scooter's frozen custard store closes in 10 minutes. There's no way I can get there in time. I guess I'll just have to drink more white wine. See, I can always find a way to NOT lose weight.

Speaking of drinking, I think I'm going to start attending AA meetings. No, no, I don't have any intention to quit drinking alcohol. I love and need it way too much. However, I did notice attendants waiting outside their meeting place and it appears AA is no longer for old, pickled and wrinkly folks. There were a bunch of young and sexy men there, almost as if it were gearing up for happy hour. I am perfectly happy with Mr. Jarcy but if things ever go south I know where I'm headed first and it won't be the bar!

On that note, I think I'll have just one more glass of wine and then pass out for the night. My busy day of puppy nannying reconvenes tomorrow...afternoon. After a leisurely lunch. Yeah, I hate me too.

Pisces

My horoscope for the day is the following:

"Today is not a good day to move, whether literally or figuratively. Enjoy where you are."

This was text messaged to me as I was scanning apartment listings in other cities. Do you think it was okay to just research today? Or does that fall under the figuratively category? I can say I have enjoyed where I am today but look forward to a new literally and figuratively. I've never really moved somewhere new. I am not counting the various apartments I've lived in as they are all situated in Illinois. What happens when one moves to a new city? Do you get to reinvent yourself? I hope so. I have a few habits I'd like to ditch here in Chicago. I'd also like to have more toned arms, I hope they replace these old ones the second I arrive in the new city.

I better get back to craigslist...

Crabby Driver!

I have been really crabby behind the wheel today and it is not my fault. Too many assholes in their big SUV's being jerks. Lakeview neighborhood is CRAWLING with overly aggressive and anxious drivers. I am quickly becoming one of them except that I don't have a car that encourages this behavioral response. I drive a 2001 Mercury Sable that my in-laws passed down to me. I can be a hot head but my car make and model doesn't allow for me to be as big an idiot as I'd like.

I have a solution. And my solution is breaking from my environmentally friendly obsession as of late.

A person should be forced to drive a car that balances their personality/energy out. We should all be confident AND ALSO calm behind the wheel. Therefore, a big beast of a man who wants to plow over me should not be allowed to drive a big vehicle! No, no, no...instead he gets to drive a Mini cooper. Maybe even an ancient Volkswagen bug, it's completely dependant upon how big of an ass he. On the other hand, meek women with serious self-esteem issues ARE the ones who would be allowed to drive big trucks. They need to boost.

See? Who can really argue with this logic. Problem solved.

Bug Assistant

I remembered recently another job I've done. In one of my earlier posts I shared about a list of about 40 others I've worked and they range from beer tent attendant to fish breader. And now I've remembered perhaps the craziest of them all...

Bug exterminator's assistant.

Or was the title First Assistant to Exterminator? Well the title was whatever my dad's friend, Bugs, decided. Bugs was a bug exterminator. Likely nickname for him then, huh? I don't even remember what his real name was. For all I know his name was legally Bugs. He was a regular at my dad's tavern while I was growing up and during the summertime he paid me to help him do some pest prevention by spraying deadly chemicals all over the outside of nursing homes and a country hospital. I was probably the worst assistant a big man could have for this job. I am 5'2.5" tall and weighed about 110 lbs, 16 years old. Just the spitting image one congers up when visualizing a bug killer, huh?

There was a huge vat of killing juice--for lack of a better term--stored in the back of the truck and attached to it was a long hose. My job was to drive the truck at 2 mph along side the building while Bugs sprayed the killing juice all over the outside walls. That was my strong suit which meant I never crashed into anything. Bugs routinely would take over when I seemed to get the truck too close or something. I remember spending more time watching than completing this task.

My other duty was to navigate the hose while the truck was parked. Bugs would pull the hose around the building and I was to make sure it didn't get snagged on anything, else it would burst open spewing chemical death everywhere. This too happened often. One time it snapped open and pooled in the corner of a nursing home's sidewalk. I stood there desperately flagging down Bugs who was yards and yards away. He grabbed the top of his pants and raced towards me to turn off the machine. His beer belly was flopping all over, he seemed to be equipped with his very own vat! As we drove away once we'd completed the job I looked out and saw an elderly woman pushing another elderly person's wheelchair right through the pool of chemical. Oh dear god, I thought, at least they're already 100 years old.

After my "assisting" duties were over, Bugs would drop me off at home to clean up. He too would go home and shower. Then we'd go out for an early dinner. It sounds like a date but it was strictly platonic. Bugs just loved to eat I think. And he didn't have kids so maybe I was really playing the role of his teenage daughter on those days, who knows. Then he'd drop me off at home again and pay me $40.

Most. ridiculous. job. ever.

Now I get paid to play with puppy dogs all afternoon.

http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2007/03/help-me-help-you.html