You've Got to Be Kidding Me

I'm starting a new rant with the above title. Look for it to see the latest stupid shit that necessitates a god damn bitch slap to some stupid bastard.

Here's the first one.

I'm a big fan of his honor, but let's all call Da' Mayer and tell him CITY ain't for sale! Who the hell wants to walk down Loew's Magnificent Mile or go to Old Navy Pier (not that anyone without kids wants to go there anyway)? Not me. I've worked on the Mag Mile in a big ass corporate store and I love the street for what it is, a vibrant commercial street - but that doesn't mean we have to sell our infrastructure to some corporate pr ass who graduated with a degree in "let's make ourselves look good". And I sure as hell don't want to ride the Orbitz El.

If you want to sell naming rights for park pavilions and playgrounds, that's fine, but make sure that most of that naming rights $$$$$$ gets put back into a fund that benefits ALL parks across the city, so that the naming rights and their dollar benefits are spread out into all neighborhoods -not just Lincoln Park, Lakeview and other expensive zip codes. And keep your name off of our streets, transportation and infrastructure.

Unless of course, we can sell North Halsted Street, my street, to Gay.com. Then I could list my address as ##### N. Gay.com Street.

Shit Yes - Sign Me Up

I could so use this, then I wouldn't be wasting so much time surfing and repeatedly looking at the same damn shit on the web. Except then, how would I be kept up to date on the local / national news story of the Drew / Stacey Petersen murder mystery.

Recycling Can Be Harder When Your Lazy

I have an old laptop that I need to recycle / get rid of. (it actually has a docking station the size of a high school history textbook). What the f**k am I supposed to do with it? Well, the lovely CITY has an electronics recycling center that takes all kinds of hazmat stuff (ok - really only household hazmat stuff - like paint, light bulbs, cleaning supplies, and electronics).

BUT - I had to get up early and go there on my way to work because they're only open from 7am to 12 pm on Tuesday and some other odd hour/day. And I was lazy. And the bed was cozy. And sipping coffee in my stolen easy chair watching the street life was a little more inviting. Next week I promise I'll go. And I'll take dead light bulbs, some batteries and those 10 gallons of paint that are left over from my numerous painting sprees.

Laughter is Good Medicine

Check out 4N Publishing's kids' books. This lovely little publishing house is the brain child of my college roommate, her beau and other friends. Their books are vividly illustrated ironic little gems. Perfect for instilling an often undervalued sense of humor and irony in your child!

http://4npublishing.com/index.php

My favorite is Blob's Odd Jobs.

4N Publishing is releasing another book as we speak - so there's lots more laughs to come. And hopefully, with the upcoming holiday season just around the corner, I'll get some belly-splitting laughing time with my good friend / publishing guru hazeldove.

Recycle - It's a Better Way

My girlfriend's apartment building was just included in the City's new cart recycling program. FINALLY - she can recycle! This is so exciting. She told me that just yesterday she put two things in the big blue recycling cart. I'm so proud. You go girl.

Chicago's recycling program has been a bit of a joke, so the new program is very exciting! It's about time. Now we just have to go get the little lady a separate indoor recycling can so she can accumulate more things to recycle.

I heart recycling.

I Like Art

Check out http://www.pixleyart.com/.

I know Alice from my Pittsburgh days. I don't see her nearly enough (Alice, when are you coming to Chicago next?) now, so it's always fun to check out her art and see what she's up to.

Alice is just good old fun.

I Agree

"More often than not I would prefer to walk in the rear alley, precisely for all those little hints of life, activity, transition which the placed visual arts of suburbia did their best to suppress or politely disguise." - Lewis Mumford

Why doesn't this government worker get the day off?

I need to take the day off. From my comfortable office, in a wasteland of an industrial office park-type area, I see cars flying thru the trees on the expressway and see bikers pedaling in bundled suits of lycra. Supposedly it is warm outside and a nice day and I'd like to be out there - but I'm in here, pretending to care about work.

To make matters worse, my girlfriend has the day off. When I left her sound asleep this morning, she was probably dreaming about all the fun she'll have today with her three playdates, while I'm sitting behind this desk, wishing I was weathly and free.

first post - I am a stalker.

Here it is, my first post, my first child. No doubt, as soon as I save it, I'll hate it. I'll hate to reread it and see my thoughts put on the lit screen. At least that 's how it has always been with any attempt at journalling my inner-thoughts. Perhaps the trick here is to not put my inner thoughts! Wow what a concept.

Admittedly, I like to pat myself on the back every now and then and I've done so when I've written some wonderful academic papers and work documents (letters, research reports, etc.). So, let's keep this a little more workmanlike for me and then maybe I won't be so hard on myself. what say you?

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What am I thinking about today:

the humblelife.

http://thehumblelife.com/

and petunias.

http://poboxalisoncoffey.com/ptg/

These have become my guilty pleasures, literally. If I read the blog of someone I used to know, does it make me a cyberstalker? I grew up with the blogger in question. We lived on the same street, only eight houses apart until she moved around the corner, a whole 2 houses away. Same age, same hair color, relatively same interests. We used to make forts together and play Fischer Price people and have talent shows where I failed miserably and she sparkled with color. I was with her (and it was my fault) when she broke her collar bone the night of her big debut in the community theatre production of The King and I. She was my playmate from birth throughout childhood and it continued well into our 20s. We even lived together in Urbana for a summer. And then, like that, it was gone. End of relationship. She broke up with me. Have you ever broken up with a friend, as opposed to a love interest? Break ups are no good in any circumstance. Now, I haven't spoken to her in eight years and only knew what she was up to by word of mouth, with little known detail, even though our parents still only live around the corner from each other in a quiet little neighborhood. And then comes along the internet and google and I stumble onto the humble.

Now I'm reading her blog and learning about her life now. It's so weird - to read about someone who is essentially a stranger to me, yet to also recognize all the shared history and events. What's even weirder is that while we lost touch because of seemingly different values and an inability to understand each other, I read her blog now and see how similar our interests are and why, for so very long, she was one of my best friends, who inspired me and made me jealous at the same time. Childhood and immaturity can wreak such havoc.