All These Things That I've Done

Whew. Sorry I've been MIA here folks, but the past week and half have been sheer craziness and I'm finally just getting everything settled.

In the past 11 days, I have:

• Attended two weddings/rehearsals. One was awesome and the other sucked. I was a bridesmaid in the latter and a singer in the former. More on that later.
• Driven back and forth between Michigan and Chicago approximately 4 times. It was like 20 terrible hours on the road, half of them with my parents (Oh, the horror!). I don't want to travel again for a loooong time. Oh, wait, too bad I have to go home again in about 3 weeks. But that's for the recent grad reunion and UMich football and tailgating. Totally worth it.
• Moved into a new apartment, which I am NOT complaining about because our new place is fabulous. I have a closet and a full bed, and I no longer live above a neon Venice Pizza sign on Halsted. And I am living with one of my BFFs (yes, I did use that term and I meant it because I'm still a sorority girl at heart and I will abbreve whatever the hell I want to. Obvi.), so my living situation just got a whole lot better. I no longer have a roommate that creeps me out simply with her existence. But, anyway, moving is always stressful and slightly time consuming. And right after I moved in, I had to drive home for the other wedding so I'm finally getting to spend some time here since getting back to the city on Sunday.
• Watched Gossip Girl and contemplated whether I thought Chuck Bass was a skeeze or bad-boy charming. Jury's still out on that one. Also, I realize that doesn't count as something I really did, that, you know, took up time, but I wanted to throw it out there.
• DYED MY HAIR. Again, I know that's not really an event per se, but for me, it's a big deal. It always makes me feel new when I darken my hair (I have never wanted to be blonde in my entire life. true story), like something is starting over. Which is why I usually do it in the fall, because I feel like that's the best time to get a fresh start. And I really like to shock people so I just wait for them to notice. Which of course is kind of disappointing when the people around you aren't even aware of the color of their own pants. Sad. But yeah, I actually was going to dedicate an entire post to the topic and call it 'Black Velvet' or something equally lame. But then I reconsidered since I have nothing more to say about it and because I didn't dye it black, more like really really really dark brown with a hint of red. Which is totally different.

OK, so I guess that doesn't sound like much, but I also spent a week at home, where I was able to telecommute for work, so lots of running around/hanging out with my mom was done. And I had unexciting things to do like get my eyes checked (especially after last month's unfortunate incident) and go to the dentist (I had a filling. My face was numb for half of last Thursday.) So I wasn't going to write about those things. Even though I just did. Hmm.

Blinded by the Light

(OK, I KNOW that someone -- or everyone -- knows this song. I think I'm just going to have to start every post with a song title or lyric from now on. Then I can say, "QUICK! Name that song!" allll the time. And you can guess, and maybe even win! Sadly, though, I don't have any prizes because I'm poor, but I could...like... rewrite your resume (that's my job) or tell you you're neat or something. Or you could not get anything but the satisfaction of knowing that you are up on all the hits, past and present.)

For some reason, my motivation to work out has been nonexistent for the past three days. Which is very odd because if I go more than two days without some activity I get ANTSY. This might be because I'm not allowed to wear my contacts for a while (more on that in a sec), and the only thing I can really do is the elliptical or the recumbent bike while wearing my glasses. I just don't love these. Or really even like them much. I just want to ruuuuun, especially since our weather here has been perfect for it lately. But in glasses, it's not really easy. They slide down my nose or sweat drips on them or they bounce around and mess up my depth perception (my palms have met the sidewalk and many a building corner trying to run in glasses). And honestly, my eyes are so bad that not wearing glasses is NOT an option, kids.

OK, so this is the "more on that in a sec" part. I've been having problems with my eyes for a couple months. I figured it was just dirtier air from living in the city during the summer. Hmm, well, maybe I was wrong. I woke up early Saturday morning and realized that OMG I LEFT MY CONTACTS IN. Normally I wouldn't freak out so much that it required all caps, but with the eye issues, I was worried. Also, I haven't done this in forever. As in, if I did no other thing when stumbling in at 4 in the morning during college (OK, and a few times in the past few months. -- I'm really no good at lying), I took out my contacts. About 4 hours later on Saturday morning, my eyes were blood red, I had tears streaming down my face and I was having major photosensitivity issues. I HAD to get to an emergency clinic downtown because I literally could not see. The problem with that was... I could not see. Which makes wandering around the third largest city in the country really fun.

Or one of the scariest things I've ever done in my life.

I decided that I should probably not go it alone since two feet ahead (if that) was pretty much as far as I could see. So I tried calling T to see if she might be able to accompany her invalid friend downtown, but she was out on a long run. I left her one message saying, "Hey give me a call back... I kind of need a favor, but it's not a huge deal." Half an hour later, I left her another voicemail, this time featuring me crying and throwing around the word "emergency" because, well, I thought I was literally going to lose my sight. After I was on the train because I already decided that I just had to get downtown before the clinic closed, she called me back, fearing the worst. Oops, silly me, I forgot to tell her that the problem was just my eyes and that I needed her to hop on the train with me. She thought I was hurt and/or dead (can you be both? I mean... if you're dead, are you really hurt anymore? did i just ask that?) because I was an idiot and told her I could walk home alone from the bar the night before. So here she was wracked with guilt, thinking she had let her Chicago BFF (because I know that's what I am to you, right?!!?) die a less-than-noble, wine-fueled death. Sorry for the minor heart attack, T!

Anyway, in leaving my apartment, I realized I couldn't wear my glasses because I had to put sunglasses on due to the photosensitivity. But guess what, folks? My vision is at NEGATIVE EIGHT. I am that nearsighted. When they ask me to look at an eye chart without any form of vision correction, all I can (barely) make out is the gigantic E at the top. And really I think I've just memorized that -- all I really see is a big, black, fuzzy block. So for me, walking around Lincoln Park and downtown Chicago with no visual help is practically suicide. Just so we're clear, I know that actual blind people do this all the time and we don't hear about them meeting their maker on a daily basis. And I give them sooooo much more credit for that after this experience. But, you see, even though my vision IS terrible, I'm not used to not being able to see at all. On Saturday, not only was I without contacts or glasses, but I had to keep my eyes shut for most of the time I was walking around because the burning and light sensitivity were that bad. And unlike our severely visually impaired friends, I am not used to being in the dark. And I don't have the city memorized without the use of my eyes. And I didn't have a stick. I knew that when I got off at Wabash and Madison, Monroe would be to one side of me and Washington would be to the other. (Thank goodness Chicago is built on a grid!) But that was about it. I didn't have the number of steps memorized for each block, and of course, there is major construction on Wabash that is blocking the sidewalks, meaning I pretty much had to walk in the street. Great timing, Chicago.

After all that, I did make it to the doctor -- who, after looking at my bloodshot eyes, was amazed I made it without major injury and prescribed me with steroid eye drops to reduce the inflammation and clear up any possible conjunctivitis from such bad irritation (ew, yeah, I know). She also seemed a little frightened when she took a look at my eyes -- at least from what I could see. And she made me call T, who gladly obliged to pick me up on the Brown Line (and then cringed when she saw my eyes) so she didn't have to worry about me meeting an untimely death again. Then I popped in some eye drops and about 5 ibuprofen, and had to lie in bed for about 4 hours with my eyes shut with a bag of ice over them except when I was putting in drops every two hours. That KILLED ME. I wasn't tired so I couldn't really sleep. And I'm naturally kind of restless, which doesn't help when I've been told to just lie still alllll day. All I could do was listen to music and you know, be alone with my own thoughts, which is usually not the most stellar plan of action for a nut-job like moi. Like I said, people, that just about killed me.

But do you know what was worse than that about this whole day? (OK, besides the burning sensation and almost dying when I stumbled through a crosswalk that clearly said "DON'T WALK.") The worst part was having to explain to people what my deal was all day. I mean, I know I didn't have to, but everyone I encountered thought I was on drugs. I went into Starbucks in a Dominick's grocery and would not take off my sunglasses indoors. And I'm sure I was looking slightly to the left of the barista and he was thinking, "Yeah, like YOU need more coffee." Then when I had to enter my PIN for my debit card, I literally leaned my face down to within two inches of the keypad just so I could see the numbers. And on the train, I think everyone felt really uncomfortable sitting next to the potential junkie. Who was wiping her nose and twitching occasionally when she looked into the light just a little too directly. And the security guard at the doctor's building and the pharmacy girl at Walgreen's? They were none too patient with scary girl with bloodshot eyes and suspiciously dilated pupils. Until I finally kind of snapped and said, "I'm sorry, having a little trouble with my vision here, so it's just a tad difficult for me to sign whatever paper you are waving in my face." They were suddenly very nice to me.

Every other time I just got on the phone with my mom (let's call her Super Nurse Practitioner for diagnosing me via phone) to give her a loud update of my progress (yes I was THAT girl on the train) so that people could overhear and think, "Oh, poor girl, she's not calling her dealer for a fresh shipment of coke after all." You know what, maybe that was too much trouble to go through. If this ever happens again, I'm just going to show everyone my red eyes, get all Whitney on them, and yell, "Bobby! Crack is WHACK!" Then we'll see what happens.

I'm Bored and My Life Is Currently Boring...

Because of the aforementioned reasons, and the fact that I'm waiting on the shower because my roommate ALWAYS waits until the INSTANT I get back from the gym to dive into the bathroom (it's like she's got it down to a SCIENCE), I'm going to randomly pick some pictures from my computer files and comment on them, which will most likely be really boring for you, but see, since I'm bored, I think everyone should be... right?

Quick note: I was watching Girlicious tonight (did I seriously just admit that? don't judge...actually maybe I'll write more about this later... hmm...) and one thing I just could NOT stop thinking about was how Mark McGrath must really hate his life right now. He went from being the frontman of Sugar Ray, a multi-platinum band, to hosting a reality show on the CW that manufactures girl groups. I bet he cries/self medicates a LOT.

OK, moving on.

This is the Bean in Millennium Park. (It actually has a nice name...something with 'cloud' in it or something, but no one calls it that and I often wonder if the artist resents that.) It's HUGE and reflective and you can go underneath it and look up inside and it distorts your image. Super neat (yes, I said neat). For those of you not in Chicago, it's pretty much one of the most touristy/best things you can do when visiting. Or when you live here and are showing people around. Or just when you're bored and want to look at a giant, seamless, chrome sculpture that appears to be a legume.

This is a picture of three of my lovely senior year housemates and I at graduation. I personally think we looked pretty sweet. (I'm the one with the green M, although it makes me look really short, even though I'm 5'7" and taller than some of these friends. Maybe I wasn't wearing heels...hmmm. Right, not the point). Also, I would just like to point out that our graduation was probably better than yours (sorrrrryyyyy) because we had it in THE BIG HOUSE (yes that deserved all caps) and because Bill Clinton was our speaker. Say what you want about his politics, but we had a former United States President address us. All, you know, 5,000 of us.

This is from about a year and a half ago, so maybe that's cheating, but I looove this picture, this is one of my faaaaaavorite friends from my a cappella group (she had already changed out of her pretty black dress), and I look good here so now I'm motivated to go run some more. Anyway, this was taken after our Spring 2007 concert. We had a St. Patty's theme (it was the 17th) and a lot of people showed up drunk. It was great. It was also my last concert ever as a Harmonette (and SERIOUSLY, don't mock the name. we were just stickin' with 27 years of tradition) and I got a little choked up as I was introducing a song on stage. I NEVER do that. I'm pretty sure a few of my friends wonder if I really have tear ducts. Guess I do.

Again, from last summer, but I just haven't been taking pictures lately! Anyway, this is from the ONLY time I ever wore a cowboy hat (I even opted out when we had barn dances for my sorority because I just thought I looked silly as I am not a hat person). We went to a hoedown in DETROIT, Michigan. Which should sound weird to everyone. Because it is. And really I only went to the hoedown so that I could buy and have an excuse to wear a cowboy hat (even though, yes, I just said I looked silly). This is another one of my best UMich friends because she tolerates and even encourages my awkwardness. (And she's moving to Chicago SO soon and I can't even STAND it.) Also, I would like to point out that I do this strange arm thing in practically every other picture. It's like I a) broke my wrist and I'm cradling it or b) got caught doing the Thriller dance and decided to smile for the picture in the middle of it. Either way, there is no real reason for my arm to be positioned just so. I think it's a reflex... to camera flashes... or something...

And finally, my favorite person in the entire world...my sister! (The one in the middle is my mom and I guess I like her too.) She really doesn't look super thrilled in this picture, but I think the boat may have been making her seasick. I probably wouldn't have been beaming either had I wanted to get sick all over the deck. Or maybe I would have. Because I've got me sea legs and I'm tough, not a yellow land lover...arrrrgh! (Whoa... no more pirate movies for me...) Anyway, she's two years younger than I am and is my best friend. Seriously. Not even being sappy and obnoxious about it. Because just like best friends, we don't always agree and sometimes we get on each others' nerves. She tells me I'm being dumb and is the best voice of reason I've got. In the end, we're still the first one the other calls and are always excited to see each other after a long, painful separation. And we're always on the same team when it comes to arguing with Mom and Dad. Oh, right, and, it's like automatic maid of honor if/when either of us gets married. Automatic drama saver. Who can get mad at you for picking your sister over everyone else? Nobody. That's who.

So, this was a little glimpse into the life of yours truly. But I mean, not really. I showed you like five pictures. Sigh. I tried. I'm going to bed.

Homeward Bound...

There's always something about coming home that simultaneously puts me at ease and stresses me out to the MAX. Now that I'm an "adult," living completely on my own (and more than 45 minutes away from my parents), there are little comforts that going home brings -- like toting home a suitcase full of laundry to wash sans the roll of quarters, not freaking out about every dollar I spend, and always having someone to talk to and/or hug. However, some of those same things put me on edge as well --having my dad tell me I'm not washing my socks properly and having my mom ask me what I'm doing every second of the day. However, my sister and I know that our parents just miss us so we complain about it together, knowing that there are worse things than having our parents love us a little too much.

This weekend I came home for Mother's Day and because I hadn't been home since St. Patty's Day/my old a cappella group's concert weekend. I actually arrived in Ann Arbor late Thursday night so I just stayed with one of my best friends from my sorority and we went out with another friend I sang with. We had a "total undergrad night" (my friends just liked saying that because they graduated two weeks ago) and hit the Jug and even Rick's (always a mistake, but sometimes a really fun one). Even though last night was majorly silly (I really don't have a better word and I would use 'ridic' but....well I just can't and take myself seriously haha) and I maybe drank too much, it was such a GOOD night. I was really happy being back and I only saw the people I really wanted to see, the people who actually still care about being friends after graduation. I'm not being cynical or bitter here, I think it's totally natural to drift from people after you leave the protective college bubble. However, I really do appreciate the people who wanted to see me when they heard I was coming back. It meant a lot, especially because some of those people I still keep in touch with are the ones I never expected to stay close to. More on that some other time though. Anyway, it was so great that I felt good being back, because last time I was there, I felt really panicked about being back and had such mixed feelings about returning to the old college stomping grounds. This time though, I was all excitement and no worries. A wonderful sign that I'm at a good place, even if I'm still not exactly sure what I'm doing with my life.

OK, so that was Ann Arbor. Here I start talking about home and I haven't even gotten to it yet! I do consider Ann Arbor a home of sorts, BUT that was not the original intention of this post. Ann Arbor was relaxing and great, and then this morning Em (the little, yet taller than me, sis) came from East Lansing to pick me up. On a side note, I absolutely adore my sister. She's my best friend in the world, which came as a surprise to me when I realized it during college since we were never BFFs while both living at home. Now, I love her to death and would do anything for her, as I know she would do for me. I do have unrelated-to-me best friends, but my sister is on an entirely different plane. She wins, haha. There's so much I would love to say about her because she is pretty much the greatest person ever. But, again, I'll probably write more on that later. (By the way, if you haven't noticed, I really like tangents. Or they just find their way into my conversations/writing. Whatev. You'll learn)

Right, so. My sister and I drove home and had the whole house to ourselves since Mom and Dad were working. However, I had to work as well (I was telecommuting) so it wasn't a completely relaxing day, especially since we had all of these rewrites and I feel like I can never do anything totally right or efficiently when I work remotely. Oh well, I got to stay in my sweats and work from Panera half the day, so I'll deal with the stress. We came home for the day right as my parents got back from their walk, so we chatted for a few before my dad had to go to a meeting and my mom started planning something for all of us to do for the night (even though alllll I wanted to do was sleep/write). We didn't do anything, but still I felt like we had to had to talk every second and act really interested about every single thing my parents had to say about running into so-and-so at the office or about whats-her-face and the newest country club mom "scandal." I love talking and I usually have lots of energy but.... there comes a time when I can't fake it. Plus, sometimes when I come home I just want to veg out and relax. I think my parents try to cram months of not seeing me into a few hours of conversation when I'm at the house. I'm slooooowwwllllyyy learning that I had better not really make any plans when I'm home or anticipate getting much work done when I come back to GB because my parents will undoubtedly want to spend every second with Em and I and they do not understand the concept of "alone time." Eeesh. I need to work on that because it has caused some major issues with me, I'm sure. We are by no means dysfunctional -- we probably seem like the annoyingly perfect atomic family, to be honest -- but sometimes I think we are a bit too close and I don't feel like I've ever had a ton of personal space or privacy. Love my parents, but sometimes they need to lay off. Yet, again, more on that later. I guarantee it.

It's getting late, and I think I may have lost my train of thought on this one, but the point is that home is still a weird place for me as I'm trying to grow up. Good for hugs and free food, bad for personal space and having any time to myself. I'll figure it out, eventually.