Classic Overthinking

I learned so many things today! I talked to a friend of mine who's Nigerian, and found out first of all, where Nigeria is (on the west coast, in the middle) and what languages they speak there (2 major tribal languages that I can't remember, plus some Arabic. . . I assumed they spoke French, but not really). He was telling me how people get the wrong idea from TV--Africa has big cities, too, but you hardly see them on television. (I know that's true for me.) He lived there when he was little and when he was growing up, he lived on the 15th floor of a highrise in a major city. No animals or mud floors, contrary to popular belief. (He was really nice and patient explaining all this to us, though. I would be pissed if everyone had this wrong idea about my country.) So I guess Africa's kind of like Latin America--yes, there are rural areas with houses made out of wooden slats on stilts, very little electricity and one phone, two towns over, but there are also big cities with buses spewing exhaust and cars honking and guys on the street selling sunglasses and snacks, car repair shops and diners and grocery stores with delivery trucks out front.

If I ever get married*, I want to play this song at my wedding that I heard on the radio. It's by the Righteous Brothers and it goes, "You're my soul / and my highest [heart's, according to some websites] inspiration / You're all I got / to make it by. . . . Without you, baby / What good am I / What good am I." I like it because it you can almost rock out to it. You could start out slow dancing and then just start going crazy. That'd be cool.

*But we won't talk about marriage. Because, well, there are several reasons. I will give you some facts which illuminate why all this wedding talk makes me annoyed (although look who brought it up. . .).

1. Everyone else my age either recently had a wedding, is planning one, or will be planning one within the next two years. And even if they are planning someone else's, they are subconsciously planning their own.

2. I probably won't. (Depends on the day you ask whether I know won't because I just don't want to be married, because I can't find anyone, or because something's wrong with me.)

3. Did you notice married (or almost married) people when they go out, they flock together and start griping about the typical woman things the wife does and the typical man things the man does? "The hamper is two feet from the bed and he still can't find it." "I know. I've been reminding him daily for three months and Phil still leaves his clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor." "Oh, and let me tell you where he leaves his socks. . ." etc. etc. while the boys are all, "She takes 45 minutes to do her hair alone, not to mention deciding on an outfit." "It's ridiculous how many products a girl needs to get ready!" "And the purses. I counted once. Lindsey has 27 purses. Who needs that many purses?"

4. All the nice ones are married. Okay, okay, not all the nice ones. But all the nice, cool, interesting, patient, non-arrogant, cute, open-minded, fun, intelligent, spontaneous, funny, warm, genuine and optimistic ones are. With good reason. And I'm not lusting after them, or out to flirt with them or anything, but it kind of sucks being reminded there are all these great ones. . . they're just taken.

5. People should be able to not be married and still be functioning members of society. Not, "Oh, so sad, you couldn't find anyone. Now your life is incomplete and we all feel sorry for you."

Which leads me to a recent revelation. Much as I disapprove of Angelina Jolie and her home-wrecker-ness, I have to give her props (if a white person is allowed to give someone props) for not caring about getting married. Now that is an independent woman. She just up and adopted a kid from another country, all by herself. I get the feeling Brad is just her sidekick, as opposed to the other way around. I can see how she would be a challenge to a lot of men and that would make her more attractive.

I told you how I learned so many things today, but I didn't really mention that many. So here's another one, an analogy for life and love, courtesy of my (late) favorite soft wool black button-up sweater. So I thought I had left it at work this weekend, but when I got in today, it wasn't there. In fact, it's nowhere to be found, and I'm pretty sure it's gone forever, lost on the streets of Chicago or something. I'd had it for two years and I figured, with as much as I wore it around everywhere, that I would eventually lose it. So I was kind of prepared. Besides being very sad and angry (I know, I know, it's just a sweater. . . But it was so much more. . .), since I kind of knew it was coming, I was able to get over it more quickly. And here is where the big light shines down from the sky, like on Jake in the Blues Brothers. Oh, my little sweater, despite the pain, I would rather have had you for a time and then lost you than never to have had you at all, because you enriched my life. You did such a good job of keeping me warm and snuggly, and you went with me to bars, to work, to sleep if I was cold. . . and so I wish you well and I thank you for staying with me as long as you did.

Now, see? I can have healthy relationships. Just with articles of clothing.

Back to Blogging

Merry After-Christmas!

How was yours? Mine was pretty good. I've been having fun with my sisters. I was worried we'd fight, but maybe since we fought so bad at Thanksgiving, it's been taken care of already.

I watched "Good Will Hunting" last night. I'd already seen it 4 or 5 times, but it had been a while, and I'd forgotten I liked it so much. It was cool hearing little comments people made that I hadn't noticed before. Kinda sad though. Robin Williams' character is so depressing. It makes me not want to get married in case somebody dies. But! That's the type of thinking my friends yell at me for.

I got 2 hoochie shirts for New Years tonight. Very excited. I bought the same top in 2 colors. I am very much a proponent of the "You find something you like, buy it in every color" shopping philosophy.

So I have these friends who live in Lombard, which is only 15 minutes away. Every time I go to their house, I get lost. I've been to their house 7 or 8 times, and you would think I'd have it figured out by now. Every time I think, "This time I'll get it right! I can do it!" But very shortly after, eager "I can do it" Becky is replaced by frustrated growling Becky, who has to suck it up, pull over, and call them from her cell phone. Tonight my sisters, cousin and I headed over there again, full of confidence because, hey, now there's 4 of us, so how can we get lost? I drove, of course, because I supposedly knew how to get there. Fifteen minutes later, we had to call them and ask for help.

My sister says their house must be in an alternate universe. So I don't feel so bad. And also that would be kinda cool. Like it's only there every other time you pass by. . . The dimensions only intersect at infrequent intervals, etc. That'd just be neat. I mean, for all we know, there could be 2 or 3 different dimensions inhabited by our friends and families. We just hop around between the three of them whenever they happen to overlap, like ice floes in the Arctic Ocean, taking for granted the surface we're walking on is one continuous body as opposed to several. (Just doing what I can to provide interesting thoughts. It's hard work, you know.)

Blowin' in the Wind

I think the train conductor paraphernalia catalog got a new line of punchers in. Today I got a little pac-man ghost guy. Very cute.

I'm glad I'm not allergic to dairy. Today for lunch I had pizza, then for dinner I had pizza, and then for a late night snack I had nachos. Ug. I feel sick, but at least I probably won't actually be sick.

My sisters come in tomorrow--both of them. All of us, living in the same house again, until next Thursday. It might get interesting.

Oh, I forgot to tell you! This morning, as I came out of the train station downtown, I saw a bunch of papers blowing around on the sidewalk and about 10 people chasing them down and grabbing them. Turns out this lady had dropped a pile of about 100 important papers. As people came upon this scene, more and more of them started darting around, snatching up papers with, I must say, childlike enthusiasm for a Thursday morning. At one point, there were at least 20 of us. We were like kids diving on candy from a piñata, or running out into the street to grab the candy the people in the 4th of July parade throw. Gave us a sense of purpose. It was actually fun. (Definitely more fun than picking up tennis balls in gym. That's only fun if you have the neat wire basket the gym teacher has, the one that sucks up the balls from the bottom. You know that basket?) So anyway, it was a community moment, us helping this lady. We felt so good-deedly. In conclusion, the moral of the story is, if you're going to drop all your papers outside when it's windy, do it in a really busy area so there's enough people to grab them all before they blow away. I don't think she lost a single paper. I don't care how you look at it--that's impressive work, my friends. Yay us.

Happiness, Anger, and Disappointment

The only good thing about a 10-ride train ticket as opposed to the monthly pass (which is cheaper but that I didn't buy for December because I thought I'd be living downtown by now, grr. . .) are the punches. Today on the train the conductor gave me a punch I hadn't seen before--a tiny barbell. I enjoy those little punches. It's like getting a sticker every day.

Also, walking across the river earlier tonight, two guys coming the other way were horsing around, pretending to throw each other over the side. I think they were drunk. Their friends were lagging behind and didn't really see what they were doing until one of the guys was pressed up against the side of the bridge and the other one was lifting his legs to try to dump him over. And his friends are like, "Come on, guys, stop horsing around," and I'm thinking, you should be a little more pissed at your friends if this is what they're doing. Now maybe it's just me--I never appreciated a good "pretend to push you off the edge" prank. Because what if you mess up and really do push them over the edge? Do they know that water's like 34 degrees? That between the fall, the hypothermia, and the fact that we'd have to wait for help to arrive (unless one of us dived in after the drunk asses, and I didn't want to have to do that), that there was a good chance they'd kill themselves? I got pissed at these guys, and even though I never really talk to anybody on the street, when one of them bumped into me as I passed and gave me a confused "Where did you come from?" look (being drunk and unawares as he was), I just said to him, "Are you guys serious?" I think he thought I was concerned they were seriously having a fight. No, I was asking if they were seriously that stupid and reckless. I'm sorry. That (beware: upcoming swearwords indicate Becky is very angry) that shit is just fucking not funny.

I saw another apartment today. Really nice kitchen, but the bedroom is super duper small. Like open the door, trip and fall on your bed small. It came with 2 girl roommates, who were cool, but I would have to really love the apartment and click with the potential roommates to share a place again. I feel like I've paid my dues and I should be allowed to be done with roommates. Then other times I worry if I start living alone, I'll forget how to live with others and I'll end up all alone. . . forever. . . . Hey, morbid much? God.

An Above Average Tuesday

Blogging is addicting. The idea that people may be tuning in to hear my precious witty thoughts makes me giddy with power.

I don't like crossing the bridges in Chicago. When the buses go over, the metal actually separates. The Washington Street bridge is so bad that it gaps about 5 inches when a bus goes across. That's enough to get your foot caught and then broken off.

I had tortilla soup from the Corner Bakery Cafe for dinner. It was too spicy and they didn't have sour cream, so I used coffee creamer. It was good! I like to MacGyver things like that.

I missed the 6:40 train today by 3 minutes. But then, to waste time, I went into this scarf and jewelry shop (apparently it was a store focused on things to wear on or around your head). . . and I found another pair of earrings like the ones I lost last week! It was fate. The lady behind the counter had her baby there and was speaking Spanish to it. We'd already started speaking in English, so I didn't switch languages. But I like knowing I could have talked to her baby in Spanish if I'd wanted to.

I have to amend my earlier assertion that no one on the Metra trains talk. They do, but only on the later trains, like the ones after 7 pm. Ideas why?

I saw another apartment tonight, but no dishwasher. That's a dealbreaker. I know, I know, if I lived in another country I wouldn't have a dishwasher, and it seems like a waste of money to pay for one. But without a dishwasher, I end up feeling guilty all the time about not doing my dishes. I can't just plop on the couch or go to bed right after I eat if I feel like it.

A final thought: I've noticed that the trend lately is to wear coats with hoods that have a big furry border around them. Does this actually keep people warmer? I mean, I know I've seen pictures of people in the Artic wearing them. So is it a windblocker of some kind? Or does it just look pretty, and feel snuggly? Like, "Dang, it's freezing out here, but ahhh, at least I've got this snuggly furry thing brushing against my cheek. I can pretend I'm asleep in a warm bed. . ." ?

Good thing my cube is far away from the boss's office

I really wish I could be watching Buffy right now. I've found that, in a pinch, an episode of Buffy is almost as good as a real conversation with real people about interesting and funny things. Also, there are British people, which are fun, and the bad guys always lose.

Okay, I'm at work. Me no wanna get in trouble.

Chiggidy Briggidy Cold

I don't know what "chiggidy briggidy" means, but I heard it once in a movie or something and it made me giggle. Also the "Airing of Grievances" from Seinfeld.

Yes, very very cold today. 1 degree, all by itself. I went and looked at apartments. I was THAT desparate to get out of Glen Ellyn, I went out in the 1 degree. Although, to be fair, by evening, it was around 10 degrees. But still.

I saw two places, and one of them was pretty cool, I guess. But small. Are all 1-bedrooms in the city this small? It's very depressing to own (or not even really own) a teeny tiny portion of this huge building. It makes you feel very insignificant. Like an ant spending every day carrying little soil bits or whatever ants carry, while all the humans above are ignorant of everything they accomplished because it didn't affect them directly. Or something.

I'm hoping to get out and look at a few more places this week, but it's annoying to have to go after work.

I'd like to start tallying stuff every day. So my tally for today is:

Annoying people I met today (not counting my dad): 0 (yes!)
Nice people I met today (more nice than usual, I mean): 3 (all the apartment people)
Other people I met today (neither nice nor mean, or too soon to tell): 12 (work Christmas party--yes, this was party #3)

Nice people won today. Excellent. Go team!

No venting, I promise

My first 3 entries have all been so negative. This is not good! If I want to be a superstar and have tons of people reading my blog because I am so amusing and endearing, then I darn well better start being amusing and endearing! Shoot.

I just ate about 9 gingersnaps and I feel ill. They're so little, I can't help it. It's like I don't even notice them going down.

So I sang in church today. I forgot to bring money to put in the offering basket, though--did the guilty pass the plate thing. But my parents paid, so I can say they put in for me. . . .

Do you think it'll still be snowy for Christmas? My sister's coming in from Mexico for only that weekend, and she really wants to see snow.

Speaking of snow, how does that whole snow going straight to water vapor thing work? Could a whole snowball just evaporate over time, never getting below freezing? And does salt speed up or slow down this process?

I think they should invent long-range stun guns. Then policemen wouldn't accidentally kill people. It doesn't seem like it'd be too hard. It would be in 2 parts. Shoot some sort of conductor to stick onto the target (like the 2 pads they use for shocking heart patients)--it could even go into their skin an inch and not really do much damage. Then pull a trigger to signal a current to be released through the conductor. The whole process would have to be quick, though, to compete with the speed of a handgun. But I figure they can make stuff run fast these days--couldn't they make this? If I was an engineer, that's what I would make.

Life Lessons

Things I have learned the past week:

1. Always, ALWAYS save a draft before you click on something else!!!!! God I am so annoyed I have to rewrite this.

2. If you are going to leap onto a train as the doors close, consider the backpack. It means the difference between landing safely onboard and being trapped like a beetle, arms and legs flailing, yelling for help from the (generally unamused) conductor.

3. Don't put anything into your coat side pockets unless you are prepared to live without it when it falls out (I should have known this one already).

4. Travel note to self: I have been wasting time getting off at the Addison exit to Lakeview when I should have been getting off at Paulina, or taking Ashland straight down to 290.

5. Mashed potatoes on your turkey sandwich isn't as good as you would think.


I could be going to the 12 Bars of X-Mas bar crawl tonight, but I have to go to a family Christmas party instead. All I can say is that ham better be good and I better clean up at poker, or the night will be a waste.

My dad was soldering in the middle of the kitchen floor today. If you knew my family you woudn't find this surprising. In fact, I have been known to use logic similar to his: Me: "Why don't you do that in the garage?" Dad: "Because it's dark and cold in the garage." Me: "Okay, why don't you do that in the basement?" Dad: "Because it's dark and dirty in the basement." Huh. I suppose that makes sense. So there you have it: middle of the kitchen floor.

Tomorrow my mom wants me to sing with her in church. (I've been going to choir practice this month because my sister and I are going to sing at the Christmas service.) But going on a Sunday would cross the line--it would turn me into an actual church-going member! Plus lately (sorry to all you religious types) being forced to pray gives me the creeps. Guess this puts me strongly in the "not really a Christian" column. Don't tell the evangelists or they'll come over and try to save my soul.

Okay, after totally rewriting this, I am irritated. I'm also pretty sure I forgot something, but it's gone forever.

Unexpected Benefits of Corporate Spending

We had another work Christmas party today. I'm not complaining about the free hors d'oeurves or the fact we get to not do work, but I can't believe companies spend money on them, thinking it will help morale. Wouldn't people be happier if management got to know their employees, not make them do pointless "professional development" paperwork, and gave them health insurance? Anyway, I learned something interesting because of this. After having a glass of wine (free but not very good) and a beer (Miller Lite), I took the train home as usual. My dad picks me up from the station and I find myself talking to him, not arguing. A whole 5 minute drive home, with no arguing! I am calm as a cucumber, at peace with the world. So I have discovered my solution. I can be content living at home: I just have to be drunk all the time. Which really wouldn't be so bad except for the eventual slide in raging alcoholism. So I guess I still need to find my own place after all.

I felt like a spring chicken today because it was above freezing. I always feel like doing more things when it's not cold. Like I stopped by the "Wicked" box office to see about getting tickets. I heard there's this deal where you can go the day of and get cheap tickets for that night if they haven't sold out. But the line was too long--Oh, well. But that's what I mean. I'm so much more motivated. I swear, if I was living in Miami I'd be so productive. Okay, well, except for when it's too hot to do anything. Okay, never mind.

Broken Pencil Day

Today was a horrible day. Good day to start a blog, right? By the time I got home, I really wanted to just do the old open the front door and scream as loud as you can thing. I used to do that when I was a kid. But that was before I realized the neighbors probably were worried I was being murdered or something. Also it really hurts your throat for a couple days after.

Let's not get into why it was such a crappy day. It was. That is all that needs to be said.

Okay, but I just have one more thing. I hate how in the winter your jeans and pants get creepy alien-looking salt stains up the back where they got wet and dried. Means I have to do more laundry.

Speaking of domestic chores, one benefit of living at home I didn't anticipate is that I don't have to do dishes. However, I don't think it's a fair trade, and in fact is much of the reason I felt like screaming earlier. . .

Just so maybe people will read this, I'll tell you some interesting facts I've learned since I started working downtown last month.

1. Cars look prettier driving down the street in the city than they do in suburbia, even in the day. They're shinier, like in car commercials. I don't think it's just because city people wash their cars more. I've never even seen a car wash in the city. No, my theory is it has to do with the reflections from the buildings and the reflected sunlight, etc. I'm still working on it. It looks cool, though.

2. On the Metra trains no one talks but on the El everyone does. I'm wondering if it's because people stand on the El and they're closer together, so they talk. Or maybe it's because suburbanites are older and more formal (like the grown-ups at my church, who make you feel guilty if you sneeze). Or is it that all the people on my train are white? What's it like on trains with lots of African American people? I can't imagine them being so stuffy. For now, I don't know which I like better--being able to talk, or not having to.

3. Corporate America sucks. I'm probably the last person my age to realize this, but that's because I was teaching for 3 years before that. More specifics on that later.

Okay, enough now. I have to go to bed SOOOO early now that I'm commuting. I'll put on my pajamas but most likely just stay up and watch another episode of Buffy, season 4 (thanks, John. . . you'll get them back eventually). . .