June 24, 2013 § 6 Comments
I’m standing at the corner of E. Randolph and Michigan Ave. in a part of Chicago known as the loop. I’m waiting for the bus. It’s January. If you’ve ever stood on a Chicago corner in the dead of Winter waiting for public transportation and decided to make a bold scream-cry declaration to absolutely no one in particular that, “YOU ARE MOVING TO CALIFORNIA BECAUSE YOU AREN’T ABOUT TO DIE OUT HERE AND BECAUSE YOU HAVE SOME FUCKING SENSE OF SELF PRESERVATION!” then you may have an idea of what I’m talking about. Or if you’ve ever woken up in a bathtub full of ice missing your kidneys then you might also have an idea.
This particular Chicago day was the coldest they had had in a decade. It was -9 before factoring in the wind chill and with the wind chill it was -33. Which is fucking cold, people. It’s real fucking cold.
Seconds before I found myself on that corner I had burst through the turnstile doors and ran for my mother-lovin’ life to catch the bus and I’d reached the stop just in time to miss it. The busses came in 15-minute intervals. Another 15-minutes, I thought to myself. Oh.God.No. I stumbled back into the corner of the bus stop overhang and huddled down, moving slowly to conserve heat.
15 minutes isn’t long if you are waiting at the bar for a late dinner guest or if you are paying for an awkward public massage at one of those mall kiosks but when you are freezing your fucking ass off 15 minutes is a lifetime. And the longer I waited the more the unapologetic wind that whipped off the lake to bitch slap me in the face felt less like the elements and more like a metaphor for my life.
A gentlemen sauntered up to the bus stop. He offered me a reassuring look of encouragement as if to say, ‘Don’t worry. It’ll all be ok…maybe.’ It was a welcome distraction. I returned his gesture with a nonchalant nod meaning, ‘Crazy weather we’re having but what can you do? Also, are we going to die out here sir?’ Only a few minutes had passed and I was already about to break.
Next a woman wearing a jacket made completely of luxurious dead animal fur joined us. Now I know killing animals for the sake of fashion is something that should be avoided but as I stared at this woman I noticed she looked slightly less cold than the rest of us. And I have to admit if a beautiful rare silver fox had suddenly appeared before me I might have slaughtered it for the sole purpose of warming my hands inside its dying carcass.
Somewhere in between my daydreams about murdering innocent woodland creatures and the bus arriving is where I made my scream-cry declaration to move back to California. Under normal circumstances my two fellow commuters would have most likely laughed politely and shifted away from the small psychopath who makes life decisions by yelling them to strangers but we had just endured the same cruel 15-minute fate which means we had bonded in a way that would typically have taken several months of forced awkward small talk. So my new friends were oddly reassuring and made an effort to make me feel as if I had correctly panicked.
And then the bus pulled up and just like that we were saved. Once aboard, it was clear I wasn’t going to die but it was also clear that I would be moving back back to Cali Cali.
Beautiful Cold Chicago. I Love You But You’re A Cold Hearted Bitch:
June 6, 2013 § Leave a comment
You did it! You are truly amazing!
Graduations always make me a little sappy. I love the thought of a new bright-eyed-bushy-tailed generation stepping out into the world all growns up and shit. And this year my sappiness is at a whole new level since my little brother is graduating from college. So for what it’s worth I’d like to offer a few bits of advice:
Move outside your comfort zone. Not figuratively. Literally relocate. Pick somewhere far enough from home, somewhere that both scares and excites you. Nothing builds character like spending two-thirds of an entry-level income on a tiny studio apartment, struggling with bags of groceries on a packed train and meeting the eclectic mix of people a city has to offer. It’s a crash course in transitioning from college student to full fledged functioning adult.
Do some fucked up shit. Not ‘ruin your life’ fucked up, just ‘I don’t think I’m ever going to tell another person about this’ fucked up.
Follow your dreams with persistance but don’t be an arrogant asshole. Get lost, get brokenhearted, spend all your money. Find yourself, fall in love again, start saving. Know that you don’t know shit, that right there will make you a little wiser than the rest. Be more like you and less like them. Listen to advice but be careful what advice you take, including this.
Sincerely-lots of love-your friend forever and eva,
P.S. Everyone who has their ‘act together’ is faking it.
And Now For Some Inspiring Commencement Speech Quotes:
“I hope you’ll make mistakes. If you’re making mistakes, it means you’re out there doing something. And the mistakes in themselves can be useful. I once misspelled Caroline, in a letter, transposing the A and the O, and I thought, Coraline looks like a real name …” – Neil Gaiman, University of Art 2012
“If you’re offered a seat on a rocket ship, don’t ask what seat. Just get on.” – Sheryl Sanberg, Harvard Business School 2012
“Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got to find what you love.” – Steve Jobs, Standford 2005
“So why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered for all that it is painfully won, and it has been worth more than any qualification I ever earned.” – JK Rowling, Harvard 2008
“You must knock on doors until your knuckles bleed. Doors will slam in your face. You must pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and knock again. It’s the only way to achieve your goals in life.” – Michael Uslan, Indiana University 2006
Enjoy This Summer. No Seriously…Enjoy The Shit Out of This Summer:
May 23, 2013 § 2 Comments
I am a horrifically bad server, maybe even the worst ever.
One Chicago Summer I got a job at a very popular bar directly across from the Cubs stadium because I thought taking the Summer to kickback at an easy breezy job sounded awesome. A lot of things sound awesome. But the reality fell very short of that. Although I did learn a lot about myself. Like the fact I have a very limited skill set. A skill set which does not include the majority of things required to be a good server.
If you need proof of how impressively bad I was then you should take into consideration my tips. After tipping out the bartenders, the bussers and occasionally taking a cab home my earnings more often than not came up in the red. And if you know anything about business you know that making negative amounts of money is not ideal.
And now I would like to share with you some thoughts I had while working as a server which I’m going to go ahead and assume are similar to the thoughts most servers have at some point or another.
Dear Martini glass:
You suck at your one and only job, which is to contain liquid. By the time I sashayed through the crowd of drunk patrons while holding a tray of you above my head I would every time without fail arrive at my destination with a wet tray and only about a shot’s worth of liquid remaining in each glass. You fail at your life’s purpose.
P.S. Join a support group, work on yourself and come back to me when you are a sippy cup.
Dear Table I’m Ignoring:
There you are trying desperately to get my attention and there I am leaning up against the bar pretending I don’t see you. Oh I see you. I just know that I’ve already done enough to fuck myself out of a tip so at this point in time you are dead to me. Let’s be civil about this. I’ll bring you your check, you’ll leave me a dollar (cause fair is fair) and we’ll both walk out of each other’s lives forever.
P.S. Don’t pretend that being ignored by a server is some kind of human rights issue.
Dear Drunk Guy:
To the naked eye it may look like I give a shit about what you are saying but the truth is I decided that I hated you the second you walked in the door. The only reason I’m smiling and nodding is because I’m afraid if I add anything to this conversation it will go on longer than it already has.
Oh good, you left me your number along with your shitty tip. I’ll be real sure to give you a call especially since you ate up all that time I could have been spending with tables who might have actually tipped me.
P.S. When you attempted to discreetly put your arm around my hip while asking me about the menu I made a mental note to do my best to over-serve you to the point of death.
Dear Manager Who Is Younger Than Me:
I know this is your job and all but you are taking yourself way to seriously. Go ahead look around, you see all those cute waitresses in the tight black shirts (our mandatory uniform). Well not one of them is ever going to sleep with you if you keep acting like a punk. Also, when you asked me if I could use my down time to wipe off some of the tables you started to smell like a victim to me.
P.S. I’m sorry I lied to you about having experience. I had no experience whatsoever. Don’t get me wrong I figured out what the fuck I was doing but only after I spent a good amount of time blindly poking the POS touch screen like a limp dick virgin.
Every day I left that bar I would think to myself, maybe tomorrow will be better. But that wasn’t the case and needless to say I didn’t last the whole Summer. By the end of it I was begging to get back to a 9 to 5. Any 9 to 5 would do as long as I wasn’t surrounded by yelling, screaming, crying assholes.
Now instead I am one of those yelling, screaming, crying assholes. Everything has come full circle.
To All The Servers Out There. You Deserve a Metal. Each And Every One Of You Are Saints:
May 17, 2013 § 3 Comments
May 16, 2013 § 5 Comments
Listen up. This is important. And when I say important you should know that I don’t really mean it.
I just wanted to let you know that hula hooping is my new thing. Which may have you thinking – What? Oh come on. Is it awkward season already?
Well that was rude of you. And no, no its not awkward season. I don’t even think that is a thing. But if it was a thing it wouldn’t be until at least mid-July.
But getting back to hula hooping, you really shouldn’t be so judgmental. It is perfectly ok for an adult to pound a 5 hour energy then jam out to music videos while hula hooping like a maniac.*
Trrruuusttt me. Its more than ok. It’s freakin’ awesome. You should totally try it cause of like cardio and stuff.
And not to brag but I was born to hula hoop. Which is kind of a shit thing to be born to do since you can’t make a living off of it** and it comes up once in a fucking never. But with that said, I’ll probably still have to quit my job to go on a tour.
I am also available for sponsorships and classy events.***
Cause That’s How I Roll:
* Not for 5 hours though. I’m not a psychopath.
** MILLION DOLLAR IDEA: Hula Hooping Strip Club
*** The kind with swag bags aka celebrity gift bags full of free shit.
May 15, 2013 § 1 Comment
So uh yeah, turns out sleep is no longer my thing. I don’t sleep anymore. Like ever. Which really sucks and makes me kind of murdery. As a result, the majority of my time has been spent concentrating on staying alive but I’ve also spent a good amount of time trying to find something entertaining to watch that I haven’t already seen.
I’ve done the legwork and I’m into sharing. So here you go. The following shows are awesome. Well awesome, if you have the exact same odd sense of humor as me which I’m going to go ahead and assume most of you do.
Or if you are a stoner that works too.
Final thought: I would like to go on record and say that the fact Better Of Ted was canceled is proof there is no justice in this world.
Foreva and eva, amen.
The Inbetweeners (Both the movie and show)
Better Of Ted
P.S. Normally I don’t really discuss things like celebrity fashion but this one comment has to be said – Can we all agree that Kim K. must be carrying an evil baby that forces her to wear ugly couch dresses? That is the only conclusion I’ve been able to come up with.
Shit. I’m sorry you have an evil baby Kim. That sucks :(
April 19, 2013 § 4 Comments
Something has come up that demands my attention. Apparently men and women have a history of misunderstanding each other when it comes to what they really want. I’ve spent my life quietly observing the inner workings of both sides so I can clear things up.
Women – want to be with someone who will buy them things, play with their hair and tell them they are pretty.
Men – want a close loving relationship with someone who is hot and will leave them the fuck alone.
Both – want someone who is good in bed.
I’m pretty sure that right there just qualified me to be a marriage and family counselor. Which is a career I totally respect but would never do. Only because I’d rather spend my day listening to a baby monitor in my own little corner of hell than spend the day listening to other people’s relationship problems.
Dysfunctional is the new functional. Problem solved. I’m glad I could help.
Which reminds me, can we talk about something else now?
You Had Me At…Nevermind: