Archive for May, 2007

A Night at Perkins

One might ask what one does with one’s self after waking up at 3:30pm.  Well in my case, Perkins with Sarah and Anna Leisa.  Gems, the both of em. 

I judge the quality of a restaurant by the music it faintly plays in the background, thus making Perkins a restaurant of the highest caliber.  On Sunday night, it was subtly invading its customers’ ears with the unmatched sounds of Madonna’s True Blue (Hey Melanie, do you remember that tape?  You forgot to take it with you when you went to college, so I claimed it for myself.  It is now associated with all that is good about childhood).

Perkins also plays Starship a surprising lot, so I don’t actually know why anyone would dine anywhere else.  You might even say that “nothing’s gonna stop us now” from eating at Perkins every night.  ZING!

Sarah briefly considered mailing Emily some jams:

I ordered a drink that ends in Palmer:

And Anna Leisa displayed disapproving joy:

Chicken Tender Melt!  Side of Kielbasa Sausage!  Pie!


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Unreasonable Sleep

So the strangest thing happened to me on Sunday:  I woke up at 3:30pm.

Beat that.

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Check out the latest Rock TV, everybody! This is definitely one of my favorites.

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My Bounty

If there’s one thing I love, it’s not having to pay for food.

Ann and I were coming in from a lovely skip-bo date when the food vendors asked us if we’d like any leftover sandwiches and salads as they were getting ready to close up shop.

Do I ever!  Before he could even finish his sentence Ann and I were ravaging those shelves – my grubby little hands got ahold $15.50 worth of food.  Abooyah, my friends, abooyah.

I have food for the weekend!!  Take that, grocery store – you ain’t gettin any of my hard earned dollar bills.

This is the best day of my life.

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I’m writing today’s blog from the past, (Wednesday night). In case you haven’t heard, I spent my Tuesday and Wednesday in the exciting world of suburban Chicago. Oh and it was glorious.

I woke up at the fantastic hour of 4:45am Tuesday morning.  The taxi driver didn’t try to make conversation with me on the way to the airport and I rewarded his kindness with a generous tip.

After flying in to Chicago, I caught another cab to our offices. I spent this ride listening to the different “American Taxi” drivers communicating with one another over the radio. The guy in cab 232 was particularly angry and impatient when citing his cab number. Every time I heard his voice repeat “TWO THREE TWO!” I had a giggle-fit in the backseat.

The meetings were fine, no big whoop. But there was a big highlight! A girl behind me introduced herself and I found out she used to live in Champaign, IL. I told her that I had a bunch of friends that went to the University of Illinois. When she asked me about my Estes Park water bottle, I told her that that was where I met all my U of I friends.

And she said: “At LT?”

Woah!!! Turns out she was involved with Illini Life (a church in our big association of churches on the U of I campus) and knew a boat load of my friends (including christinetwo). She’d spent a summer out at LT the summer of 2001.

Small world, huh? Also turns out we have basically the same exact job. She is the Schaumburg me. So, anyway, I made a friend and that was pretty awesome.

I skipped our group’s social event Tuesday night out of exhaustion, and after ordering some room service and watching the American Idol performances I checked out onto this:

Thank you, Marriott for making your beds so utopic.

The second day of meetings was fine, and now I’m at an airport waiting for my delayed flight to take off. I guess y’all have been having some some pretty bad weather up in Minneapolis, hey?

Okay, but here’s the thing: I just saw Dave Navarro heading toward the escalators:


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I colored this for you

I’ll be in Chicago for work over the next couple of days and I probably won’t have time to blog, so in the meantime please enjoy this picture I colored for you.

I’ll never forget you.

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A Friday in the Life

So, has anyone ever seen that pretzel episode of The Office?

On Friday I felt a strong connection to Michael Scott in that episode – and let me tell you, the shame was plentiful.

I had acquired a free bag of wonderfully delicious pixy stix, and at about 11 I decided it would be a fine idea to start chokin’ em back. 

Over the course of about an hour, one at a time, I poured the contents of 42 pixy stix down my throat.  The colorful amass of cylindrical wrappers in my trash can displayed my guilt for all to see.  Oh, what the late-night cleaning crew must have thought.

Anyway, I don’t remember having a sugar high, but I definitely remember having a sugar crash.  At about 1, my eyelids began to feel like lead and after trying to fight the sleepsies for an hour, I decided I needed to take some drastic measures.  I went into the unisex bathroom and took a 5-minute power nap on the cold, hard floor.

It doesn’t get much sadder than that, does it?

I spent the rest of my groggy workday with a subtle square tile mark embedded on my right cheek.

Right now the remaining 18 pixy stix are sitting to my left, and I can’t stop staring at them.  The little wonka boy on the bag is furiously pouring Maui Punch flavored sugar onto his tongue. 

How can a girl resist that sort of call?

Oh man, here I go!

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