To Nick Krafft and all the other hatas

I'm sorry my life is not interesting enough right now to satisfy your obsession with my blog! I'm sorry! I'm sorry that absolutely nothing is happening other than me watching the L word! I'M SORRY THAT CITY LIFE HAS BECOME SO BORING. I. AM. SORRY.

NICK KRAFFT.

I AM SORRY THAT YOU ARE A HATER.

I am just so sorry for all of these things.

Coming soon: a review of the Girls album.

A Thanksgiving Miracle

Right now, I am sitting watching "The L Word" with Brandy, which is a show we started watching over Christmas break a few years ago. Yeah, it's pretty much a serial show about lesbian relationships in L.A., but the characters are REAL. Actually, the show has gotten progressively worse with each season, but this is the last season, so we figured we might as well just finish. For example, there is this character named Jenny, and everyone hates her. This season opened with her death. WHICH WAS AWESOME. But now the rest of the season is happening in flashbacks, and personally, I want to see how Jenny dies. Because that would just bring me a lot of television closure to see.

Anyway, right now I'm watching the L word and I'm making a popping noise with my mouth at the cat. I wanted the readers of this blog to really know what life is like in our apartment. So in the words of Michael Jackson, this is it.

But we've also been doing fun things! Like hosting holiday gatherings, such as our gathering last night!

Twas the night after Thanksgiving, and all through the States,
All the creatures were shopping and redeeming rebates.
But up in Chicago, down in Logan Square
Friends gathered with crayons and ole dishes to share.
We ate meat white and dark and feasted on pies galore
Played board games of fun and heard Neil Young music of yore
So thanks for the cupcakes, the potatoes, the beer
And when we gather in December, we hope you're all here!



Yeah, entertaining is fun. It's especially fun when your friends and family are so generous that they bring way too much food to a potluck and you just end up eating for weeks. What?!?!?!

Okay, Brandy is done watching L word, so I think I'm going to do some cardioke. This is my first weekend off in a few months! Woo! Except for two weekends ago when I had the (not the swine) flu. That sucked. In other news, I'm trying to become a part-time nanny, so if you have young unprotected children, holla back.

Also, L word has the worst theme song/opening credits... EVER.

See here


ALSO THANKS FOR EVERYONE WHO VOTED ON OUR LAST POLL, WE WILL NOW BE ANSWERING ANONYMOUS SURVEYS AS "FLARKER"

Brandy's guide to getting a job

All of these things Lisa has written about in my absence are true. There really is a wolf on my new debit card. We really were the only ones who showed up for a party at a piano bar called Howl At The Moon, and I really did ask the waitress to add more alcohol to my $1 drink. Lisa really did subsequently win a free party for 100 of her friends, and really does not know anyone Jewish. I really do have a job.

Also true-- I have, in the past three weeks, watched over 20 hours of Russian women cleaning their homes at said job. I know that Russian women use a Comet to clean everything. I know they sometimes use laundry detergent powder to clean their bathtubs and floors. I know they put a rag over a broom and call it a mop. This and MUCH MORE-- I am a wealth of knowledge.

Before I explain what this job is, I would first like to say, for those of you out there still looking for a source of income, I'm sorry to say I have no advice for you. My getting a job guide would look like this: 1. Apply to as few jobs as possible 2. Interview and get told you have a job at a fine foods market, but get a strange feeling it was too easy and something must be wrong, so fail to follow through 3. Spent a few weeks perfecting a daytime television schedule and become a domestic goddess. 4. Throw a housewarming party and wait for a stranger to offer you a full time temporary position in your field of study.

This is how it happened: Our roommate Sasha invited one of her co-workers to our housewarming party, and when she found out I was unemployed, she told me to send in my resume for a position as a temporary data logger. Sasha works for a market research firm, which is basically a bunch of psychologists and anthropologists who find out what people want or need from products. I watch their interview videos and transcribe what people say, their expressions, what they're doing, etc. Researchers use these logs to find patterns and put together a presentation for the company that hired them.

I don't know if that makes sense. Moving on.

So far I've witnessed several birthday parties, a woman break the news to her husband that she can't get pregnant, an old woman getting kicked out of a party outlet store for bringing in the camera, and yes, over 20 hours of Russian women cleaning their homes. But today I started with a new country-- Brazil! Where women pour buckets of water on the floor to clean. Every day is an adventure. Who will I watch clean tomorrow?

I think when you're feeling uncertain about your future it's good to cultivate a sense of adventure.

I also thinks it's good to set attainable goals for yourself. Which is why I've resolved to cut back on my most common typing mistakes.

Brandy's top typing errors:
1. BEcause
2. equiptment
3. ahve
4. spongue

I will try to decrease or elimnate these errors by next week.

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

How To: Start the Party

Favorite Halloween Costumes Seen in Chicago:
1. Elliot and ET (aka Kevin Wilson)
2. Alan and baby Carlos from The Hangover
3. Guy wearing a throw rug on his shoulders while taking pictures of us who gave me a can of beer on the Red Line/ was he on crack?
4. 60s alien with cone head voice (aka Mallory Laurel)
5. The cast of Candyland
6. Jamaican bobsled team
7. Soot-covered, umbrella-wielding Mary Poppins
8. Anorexic Lindsay Lohan (aka Maggie Graber)
9. Girl dressed up as a rabbit with an inflatable "magician's hat" around her waist
10. A gold digger. Oh wait, that was the worst costume I saw. Girl wearing a gold mini dress carrying a shovel. I saw the shovel and was like... could that be... a hoe? Is she trying to be a hoe? Is she trying to be ironic? Oh, no. It's a shovel.

Some people might look at our Halloween from their lives of glitz and glamour and say, "THEY HAD A LAME HALLOWEEN." They might think this for a number of reasons. True, we conspired to have a giant fiesta birthday party for MATT THOMAS! but then forgot to invite anyone other than Mallory and Sean. We also forgot to buy anything necessary for a party, but that's okay, because we forgot to invite people too. Matt Thomas's birthday party had originally held lofty expectations. We were thinking bobbing for apples, a little Billy Blanks Jr. kardioke, color your own Matt Thomas or pin the beard on Matt Thomas, various holiday treats and activities... but yeah, when Friday night rolled around, all we had was four bottles of beer and an ever-dwindling bucket of pumpkin seeds (ONCE YOU POP THAT PUMPKIN YOU CAN'T STOP!). We did have two nice pumpkins, carved on Thursday night. Brandy made an "oh my god!" pumpkin, aptly named because it looks like the pumpkin just said that. I made a sexy clown pumpkin. It looks like a clown and says the word "SEXY" on the back. It was a cool idea until I realized that our Korean neighbors and their two small children would only see the word "SEXY" illuminated in fire if we put the pumpkins on the front porch.

So since our party had nothing, I decided to bake a birthday cake for Matt Thomas. But then Matt Thomas decided he wanted to be Radiohead so he had band practice and we just all ate his cake. And when I say we ate his cake, I mean that I ate his cake, and Mallory helped.

But no, we did not spend our entire pre-Halloween night watching Scream 3 on MTV and eating birthday cake without the birthday boy. That only accounted for most of the night. When Billy Mays, a French man, and Sookie from True Blood showed up, we decided to confront Logan Square's hippest establishment: The Whistler. The Whistler is this super super super trendy bar around the corner. People come from near and far to stand around in its dark small spaces and look cool and drink PBR and expensive drinks. Sometimes bands come and do super hip shows that "say" things and "mean" something. Each time I have been to the Whistler, I am very bored, except the time that Mallory snuck in pizza that some guy had given her for free on her way in.

Tonight was the Whistler's "funk and soul" night, so we decided to give it a chance, even though the damn bar usually lets us down. And sure enough, we walk in and funk music is pulsating through the joint and no one is dancing. So Mallory turns to the bouncer and asks if it's okay to dance. I respect the fact that she asked this. We had to be sure that we weren't violating some sort of actual written code in the Whistler's rules, such as "Thou shalt not dance ever" or "Thou shalt not have fun." But according to the bouncer, dancing was actually allowed, so WE DID IT. And to our excitement, a few souls popped out of their darkened corners and joined us. It was like those 10 people had been waiting their whole lives for a dance party to break out at the Whistler. They actually did thank us for giving them the opportunity. People would walk into the Whistler and be totally caught off-guard, like "WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY FAVORITE BAR AND WHY AREN'T THE PEOPLE MOPEY?" But then they would put on their judgement faces and go into the corner. The thing about a judgment face is that it's actually the same as a jealousy face. WHAM!

We also had the opportunity to assist in starting a party on Monday night. On Monday night... Brandy, Mallory, and I did something very exciting. WE WENT TO AN ISRAELI HIP HOP SHOW! I am continuously excited by my increasing experiences with Jewish culture. Before moving to Chicago, I think I had known two Jewish people. That's discounting the random guy who let me and Mike stay with him in New York City a few years ago and the lady in the dressing room next to me at Saks Fifth Avenue. But now! Suddenly! In Chicago! The number of Jewish friends I have has increased exponentially! In the Chicago Children's Theatre office alone, I know three Jewish people. And one of them took me to an Isreali hip hop night!

Yeah but it was really fun. I don't really know any "Jewish" dances. I don't really know if such a thing as a "Jewish" dance exists. So I was constantly wondering if I was giving away the fact that I was not Jewish or if I was acting like a paranoid ignoramus. Probably somewhere in between. I must have done something right to blend in, because after the opening act, I was given a very special opportunity. The opening act was named MC Zulu, and he was tight yo. When he finished his act, some dude next to me put his hand around my waist and whispered in my ear, "Come on girl. We gonna go meet Zulu." And then he whisked me away and forced me to meet MC Zulu. I'm pretty sure that I was being majorly used, as a woman, for this super fan to get closer to his hero. And I didn't even know what to say to MC Zulu, so I just shook his hand and said thank you. That was cool. That was how I met MC Zulu. And then we all danced to SOULICO, the end.

Note: Today I found like three entries that Brandy has started and never finished. She has promised to post them tonight. We'll see if that happens. And if it doesn't, I will emotionally abuse her until it does. Y'all are free to help. BYE!

Music Done Wrong, Music Done Right

Sorry about the lack of updates! This disaster has happened for a few reasons, including:
- my (Lisa's) internet does not work. I had been stealing it, but when the neighbors caught on, my fun ended really fast. After a month, I finally called the internet place... which I had been avoiding, because I knew it would involve a lot of "try this. no? try this. no?" from some rando who assumes I'm an idiot. And that IS what happened, although in reality, the end of this phone call still shocked me. After about 45 minutes and numerous troubleshooting tips, my homeboy Rashid just straight up goes "Okay. I've tried everything. Sorry. I can't do anything more. Bye!"... and that's why technology/outsourcing/telephones/Dells SUCK. But it's okay, because in one of my genius moments, I realized that I could hook up the ethernet cord up to my computer.

- other reasons: I've been super busy.

But! Last week I finally had the opportunity to fulfill one of my year-long dreams: GOING TO THE PIANO BAR 'HOWL AT THE MOON.' Now, if you've ever been to Howl at the Moon, you may be thinking, "Why the hell does she dream of going to Howl at the Moon?" But I had never been there so I was living in ignorance. All I knew is that last year, when I went to LA for Family Feud, all the other kids on my Family Feud team went to Howl at the Moon with the Texas team and, in their words, "HAD THE BEST TIME EVERRRR!!!!" And I love pianos. It's a piano bar. And no one would ever go to Dueling Pianos night at Legends with me. But lucky for me, my friend Maggie somehow won a private party at HOWL AT THE MOON on Thursday, October 21, so I knew that destiny was within my reach.

My anticipation for this night was immense. I even turned down a babysitting job to embrace it, which is telling because, newsflash, I STILL DO NOT HAVE A STEADY JOB (but things are looking brighter and I am no longer psychotic about it). Then again, since I STILL DO NOT HAVE A STEADY JOB, I was all about taking advantage of the free cover charge at HOWL AT THE MOON before 7:00pm, the two $1 drinks before 8pm, and the drink specials all night long. I forced Brandy and Kevin Wilson to come with me, and when it looked like we weren't going to make the 7pm cutoff time, I made them run. Damnit, I made them run. Through the pouring rain. Because it was that important.

Somehow, somehow we made it to Howl at the Moon just before the free cover charge turned back into a metaphorical expensive pumpkin. I proudly told the host lady that I was there for Maggie Culhane's party, and she mumbled something about Maggie already having a table in the back. So we went in.

I saw no one that I knew. Which was weird. But whatever, we sat down, in a corner, by ourselves. Got some margaritas. I texted Maggie to tell her I was the first one at her party.

Pretty soon she texted me back to tell me that HER PARTY WAS CHANGED TO THE NEXT DAY.

After all of that. After all of the labor, the running, the possible pneumonia, the hope, the anticipation -- nothing. Just me, Brandy, Kevin Wilson, and some really really crappy drinks that were so bad, Brandy asked the waitress if they were non-alcoholic.

And then. There was. The. Music.

When I think of piano bar, I like to imagine some creativity. Some variations on Billy Joel, but also just some branching out. I like to imagine piano artists doing what they love, with flair. I like to imagine that these people do not hate their lives, that these people are not judgmental, that these people will play our requests for Britney Spears and Lady Gaga, and that these people will not creepily make eyes at my friend Kevin so intensely that I fear he will be killed and stuffed into a garbage bag before the night is over. These are just thinks that I like to think about piano bars. These things are things that did not happen at Howl at the Moon.

The only request we got in was Bob Seger's "We've Got Tonight," and I'm pretty sure they only chose it because, oh yeah, Thursday is official 'Cougar Night' at Howl at the Moon. I personally requested it in honor of my friend MK, who thinks it is the most awkward song to play at closing time at a bar, and I agree. In hindsight, I probably should have gone with Nightmoves, because no one seemed to appreciate "We've Got Tonight," except for this chick in sequins that the piano player kept flirting with. I decided that I might be her for Halloween. I'd just wear sequins and flirt with piano players and be annoying, it would be the best costume ever.

We left Howl at the Moon, and I don't know if I will ever go back.

LUCKILY, that bar experience was completely redeemed by a good music experience on Friday night! We went to a bar in Wicker Park for a Variety Night, where MATT THOMAS! was playing with his friend JASON! and some OTHER PEOPLE! and they were doing covers of old soul songs. YES. YES. YES. Interspersed between their jam sessions, random people dressed as nurses came on stage and did mime routines, and one guy told stories under the guise of some sort of sexual predator-vampire-Jason Schwartzmann character. And then the mountain people came! I don't know how to describe them other than saying they were a band of mountain people! At the end of the night, one of them gave me a light up visor. I didn't know they had that kind of electricity in the mountain lands!


Other things that have happened in our Chicago lives lately:
- Our cat murdered a mouse and then ate everything except its spine, which it left on the kitchen floor for us in the morning.
- Sasha, Mallory, and I got trapped in an elevator with a bunch of hipsters after seeing Where the Wild Things Are. When you are trapped in an elevator with a bunch of hipsters, you might not be saved, but you will at least be surrounded by many witty references to Speed, Keanu Reeves, and Fandango.
- I might be dancing at a Bat Mitzvah! My first Bat Mitzvah. YES.
- NBC Comedy Thursdays!
- I found a picture of Audrey Hepburn in a dumpster and stole it.
- Oh yeah, I went to a career fair. Mostly what happened was that weird recruiters invaded my space and I decided I didn't want to work in insurance. Woop!

Exercise.

We've stayed pretty busy lately, which is why this blog has been updated --- nary at all! What have we been doing? So much! So much! Brandy got a job, which I think she will describe in greater detail later. Lisa got rejected by many jobs, which she will probably never discuss in greater detail because it makes her feel worthless. Notice how I just wrote in third person in order to displace my own pain. But it's okay! Perhaps there are brighter days ahead! Or perhaps there aren't.

Anyway.

I want to talk about some of my adventures in bike riding, but first, I think everyone should enjoy a clip from the latest fitness routine that Brandy and I have been using. After a tough day involving chasing buses and knocking on their windows as they moved in order to gain entry and watching Notre Dame lose to USC and selling $134 worth of friendship bracelets at the Chicago Children's Theatre gift shop, all I wanted to do was go running. But it was dark outside and that felt unsafe. So. Brandy and I decided to find a workout video using Comcast OnDemand.

DID WE EVER!!!!!!!!!!!

After you watch that, I encourage you to watch the related videos of "Don't Cha" and "Cardioke Slide." It will probably help you understand our lives in Chicago better, and you will also whip yourself into shape!

CARDIOKE IS THE GREATEST INVENTION OF ALL TIME

Yes but in other adventures, the other day I was riding my bike and a voice popped into my ear out of nowhere as I was moving. In a heavy Irish accent, I heard,"Eh miss 'er's somethin' wrong with yer tyre!" And sure enough, I looked back, and THERE WAS AN IRISH MAN RIDING HIS BIKE ALONGSIDE ME. And then I looked down and sure enough, MY TIRE WAS DEMONIZED. So I pulled over to the side of the road and abandoned my bike right there (after locking it, of course) and just hopped on a bus. I was so scared. But now I am somewhat spoiled by public transit. Because frankly... I did NOT look cool on a bike. You know how city bike riders are super cool? In their super cute pink and blue trendy Zooey Deschanel helmets? Or helmet-less, windswept hair, fixed gear bikes, leaning forward with messanger bags? Always moving forward at a brisk speed, whipping around cars with ease, proving that green transportation trumps a car any day? Yeah, I've never looked like that. I pass storefront windows and I notice myself. My mountain bike makes me sit straight up. And I can't ride fast. And my helmet is literally the dorkiest thing ever. It's not cute and it's not hardcore. It's just somewhere in the middle... like leisurely... 90s... 10 year old... neighborhood... biker. So anyway, yeah, I really want to fix my bike, but I'm enjoying looking like a real city girl on public transportation with my newspapers and books.

Another sport I've decided to take up is crossword puzzles. I've just never done them. I think it would be a good skill. I realize I am about 6 years behind most people my age, which is why I'm not going to do it competitively. This is going to be something I do for myself. I tried to go to a raucous Notre Dame game watch the other day at a bar. I imagined middle-aged men throwing beer around, spilling it on me, and generally creating a ruckus. This did not happen. This is when I realized that I was imagining watching TV in a pub in Ireland and not Chicago. Chicago: it is not all drunk people and sunshine and rainbow dreams. Sometimes, it is just a few young professionals watching a heart-wrenching game in a trendy bar. Sometimes it is getting sprayed with all-purpose cleaner by your roommate. Sometimes it is being rejected by a job everyone said you were going to get.

But sometimes? Sometimes Chicago is when your roommate brings you donuts and a (another) random man gives you and Mallory free pizza and you get to see The Room in the theater for free! So it's okay.

LAZY TUESDAY

[ Brandy with her mysterious bust. Ha. Mysterious bust. But seriously, I don't know which Roman this is. Let's just call him Amelia Earhart]



[ Shower time! Ha. Damnit. Another ambiguous caption]


[ This is our kitchen! This is where the magic happens! When I say magic, I mean burnt cinnamon rolls]



[ THIS KIND OF MAGIC! Two hours. Two. Hours]



[ Brandy's new credit card is a visual representation of the new Shakira song, "She-Wolf"]