Wednesday, December 13, 2006

A Very Special Post Just for Matt

Hey Matt. You missed it. Our dept had our holiday party last night at the ice skating rink. I had been bragging for weeks about how I was a pretty great ice skater and how everyone would be wow'd with my grace and skill.

Nope.

First of all they ONLY had hockey skates. I've never skated on those before. THEN it started raining so the ice was extra slippery. THEN they had the nerve to have a free open bar prior to me getting on the rink.

Basically it went like this.

"Come on everyone! Let's skate! I'm so excited!" (slip SLAM on the ice) "Whoa! ahahahaha Wow! These skates will take some getting used to! Here I go again...I'll get it this...." (slip SLAM on the ice) "hahaha...WHOA! Nah..I'm totally fine you guys...don't worry...I just need to get my bar...." (slip SLAM on the ice) (slip SLAM on the ice) (slip SLAM on the ice) (slip SLAM on the ice)

I am black and blue and sore like you would not believe today.

I wish you could've been there. You very well might have laughed yourself to death.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Watch My Audition! (frequently...just do it)



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8Znp6jeqls

Also please know that it pains me to do this because I am flipped out by how awful I look in this video. But it's for a good cause so I will deal. Now watch it. Or at least click it....a lot.

click it,
Crescent

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

I'm In A Show!!!

I just found out I have been cast in Impress These Apes at the Playground Theater here in Chicago. It's a talent competition of sorts where each week we are assigned a different talent and then scored by a panel of judges. The grand prize is $250! Which I could always use.

Anyway, that's exciting. I almost didn't go to the audition either because it's been sooo long since I've been on stage and I was sooooo nervous. Thankfully my pride took over and I thought of how lame it would be of me to not at least give it a try and it paid off.

Wish me leg breaks! (whoa...not really though...it IS slipping and falling season after all)

Monday, December 04, 2006

Vote for Awkward Rick

This is a local Chicago improv guy that I don't know him but cracks me up. He's a finalist in the Yahoo Talent Show.

Watch here and vote here - http://talentshow.yahoo.com/index;_ylt=Av_CsEtTaURcLm0MkR3Y82Io1tEF#v=102706

I'm not usually a video poster so hopefully this works. Anyway, give this vid your vote. Even if you don't like it. Do it because I tell you to. I mean it. Otherwise there WILL be trouble.

Friday, December 01, 2006

An Epidemic




Today is World AIDS Day. Please take some time to educate yourself and others about this disease. Also remember friends, family and loved ones that have been affected by AIDS and HIV.
Hopefully through education and awareness we can eventually stop this indiscriminate killer and instead spread knowledge and compassion.

http://www.theglobalfund.org/en/

www.lighttounite.org

http://www.charitynavigator.org/index.cfm?bay=search.results&keyword_list=aids&Submit.x=16&Submit.y=12

http://www.amfar.org/cgi-bin/iowa/index.html

http://www.aidsresearch.org/






Monday, November 27, 2006

Sweet Holy Crap.

Moving is truly and officially...un-fun.

I don't have much time...for the kitchen is currently mocking me with more packing that needs to be done.

I just want this moment down in this blog so that when it is all done, which it will be, I can look back at this and feel that freaky kind of happy that only comes with the relief of a move coming to completion.

That's the closest to the brighter side I can get at this moment.

Love,
Packy

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

I'm thankful for....


...any moving boxes you can spare.


I'm going home tomorrow to see my family and I can't wait, but somewhere in the back of my pea brain all I can hear is...."you are moving next week. you only have a few boxes. you need to scheudule movers. you CAN'T schedule movers because you won't have the cash. you need to call your landlady and ask her for a payment plan. your landlady won't go for that...nooo no can do."


And don't even get me started on my work related evil voice.


BUT I'm going to shake that all off and enjoy my time with my family. Plus they always put everything into hilarious perspective. That is one of about a million things that makes them the best. I am crazy excited to hug and kiss them all and then eat food until I can't breath normally.


Happy Thanksgiving everyone and make sure to tell people that you love them and are greatful for them. This holiday is as good a time as any.





Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Dreams Dreams the Magical Fruit....

When I was little....about 3-5 really...I had a reoccurring nightmare that my babysitter was actually a wild boar in overalls but no one would believe me. There are deep and dark reasons for this but we won't go there since this is the Brighter Side and all that.

Anyway, last night, for the first time in YEARS I dreamed about a wild boar again! I was riding in a car with family? friends? strangers? I can't remember for the life of me, but what I DO remember is a giant boar jumping through the windshield and landing on me. I was trying not to panic but was flipping my lid. Someone came in and finally pulled him/her off of me and I woke up. Now where in the Sam Hell did THAT dream come from? Moving stress? Repressed something or other? I don't know, but it sure was scary.

I also dreamed a PERFECT cell phone commercial for t.v. It had a theme song and everything. It took place in a life size doll house made of all steel beams and every member of the family was isolated in their rooms talking on their cell phones in angry tones. The song that played through out was called "One Big Happy Family" but was really punky/metally sounding. It was the coolest. I don't know what demographic that dream phone company was aiming for, but I do know that all the angry punk Barbie's and dysfunctional families out there will be on dream board.

Boar....d. See? Never doubt my ability to bring it all back around.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

good LORD!

So one more post today. It's a quick one. Just to illustrate my point further.

I just fell off my scale (if I keep it at home I weigh my self too much) at my desk and was mid conversation with a co-worker and simultaneously THREW the phone in the air knocking over my pencil cup and landed on my ass. It made SUCH a ruckus that three other co-workers in the area came running over to see what happened. Just me....falling....off my scale...at work.

Smooth.

The Plunge Into Madness....



Good things are happening in my life. Jason's new job, a possible promotion for me in the works, we move into a much nicer and bigger apt in a couple weeks....ahh...should be feeling a peace. But I'm me, so instead I am having one of my chicken little episodes where the smallest things are stressing me out so badly because things are so great. Does that make sense? No? Well eat it. It's just how I feel.

The thing about it all is that I am bumbly by design. There's just no two ways about it. I am clumsy and bumbly and when stressed this little quirk of mine (I'm gonna let it shine) gets amped up from bumbly to total walking disaster.

All I wanted to do last night was go home, put on tenners, walk to Jewel to cash in our huge jar of change, come home, enjoy a frozen diet dinner and watch my backed up episodes of Jericho. But NOOOOOOOOOooooooo......

(This is the part that my dear friend Matt leans in closer to the computer screen and evilly rubs his hands together in anticipation of the antics I am about to relive through the written word.)

I leave work. Train is running 45 minutes late. Fine. I can deal with that. It DOES throw off my schedule a bit but I'm flexible.

Finally get home around 7:30 walk into the apartment and immediately slip and fall and crack my back on the book shelf. Now slipping on nothing happens to me all the time but THIS time I had slipped in something. It was cat barf. I cleaned up that little gift and then went into the bathroom to pee and I find MORE cat barf. (the barfing cat is fine now just so no one worries....he just has a delicate constitution).

I get the last of the paper towels, t.p. and a sponge and clean it up. I then put a wad of toilet paper in the toilet and flush. All of a sudden OVERFLOW!!! OVERFLOW!!! Toilet water EVERYWHERE....unstoppable, cascading toilet water. I grab all the old towels I can and clean it up. Then I try our crappy Walgreen's plunger. The rubber top breaks off. At this point I stopped and took a deep breath and decided to go get a new plunger and cash in those coins.

In my bumbly frustration I decide to use a garbage bag for the 100 lbs of coinage. I dumped them all into the bag and put THAT bag into my messenger bag. Walking 7 blocks with the extra weight was good exercise but man.....I thought I might die at one point.

Got to Jewel, head to the Coinstar machine...open my bag aaaaaaannnnnd the garbage broke so all my coins started spilling everywhere in the store. I finally got them all into the machine. (the total was $143.02 for those of you who were wondering.)

I buy the LAST plunger they have and a frozen diet dinner and walk back home feeling much more positive about it all.

I'm no slouch when it comes to plumbing, just so you know. I was known for my ability to fix toilets with nothing more than a toothpick and a good attitude back in the day. So I was feeling cocky about my ability to plunge out this clog. I plunged and plunged and then flushed. OVERFLOW!!! again.

Meanwhile two fire trucks and an ambulance have pulled up in front of my building. I'm thinking they were either called after a call from a concerned neighbor who heard my tirade of profanity during the first overflow OR my building is on fire. Luckily it was neither. I think it was a false alarm. But the flashing lights and sirens did not help my stress level.

I STILL have to pee, mind you. My phone wasn't working so I couldn't call anyone for help. I decided to call it a night. I took a shower, skipped my dinner on the off chance that it didn't agree with me on a night when I was toilet-less, and watched two episodes of Jericho.

At least I was better off than those poor post nuclear war survivors. That was comforting.
PS - And yes, we had to pee in the bathtub during the night....which I think Jason actually thought was kind of fun. I did not.

Monday, October 30, 2006

O'Possum, My Possum.....

My brother in law made the pic above after I told him about a possum (opossum..whatever) that was almost literally knocking on our back door the other night. That's not a euphimism either. He was going through some trash out back and that just happens to be right by our bedroom door. I am terrified of possums. Jason always says "they look like ghosts...." which freaks me out even more, which, I'm sure, is why he always says it.

Thankfully we are moving. Soon. In a month. Holy crap. I have a lot to do. I better go.

P.S. The possum in the cage in the picture is one that my brother in law accidentally caught in a live cage in his yard a few months ago. *shiver* It looks like it's saying...."ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh". creepville.

Friday, October 13, 2006

A year later...

Remember a year ago when I blobbed...I mean blogged about losing weight? Well here I am a year later, another birthday past and I haven't really lost much. BUT I finally got some help and joined Weight Watchers. Now this sounds like an ad. Seriously though...it's working really well for me and I'm finally starting to see a couple less chins and jowels which is a load off. Literally.

PS - I could've eaten that whole cake pictured above right then and there. But I didn't. Also, I made a good wish. I hope it comes true.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

WHAT?

My job has exploded into about three jobs at once. I love it though. However I'm very busy.

I know...that's no excuse to neglect this here blog. SO quick story.

My right ear has been clogged for a month. Today the doctor was finally able to EARiggate the plug right out. I feel like a new woman and can't tell you how nice it is to have hearing back in that ear.

I made one mistake. I looked into the bowl after the procedure. GAH-ross. I clean my ears everyday, but apparantly some ear hoodlums missed a meeting because that was one disgusting bowl full of ear-ness. *shiver*

I don't know why I did it, but it's done and now I'm stuck with that memory until I stupidly look somewhere grosser sometime.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Great ideas





I've been having some great ideas lately. I can't share them all here lest you steal them and make them your own. (Matt, I'm looking at you....j/k....see you at dinner)

I will say this. One involves a placemat that looks modern and elegant but also contains a fun game for the whole table to enjoy. There is a kids version too. It will make me rich, RICH I tells ya!

I've said too much.

Here is another great idea that a genius friend of mine came up with that I think could possibly revolutionize the coffee world. Check it out and if you dig it then sign up and digg it....dig? The site itself is yet another great idea so you won't regret it.

Check it: http://digg.com/gadgets/Roast_Coffee_At_Home_with_a_Popcorn_Popper

Thursday, September 14, 2006

What's a wood crib? About ten pounds.


So the one in front is the wood crib that Jason and I built to hold the logs we split while at his parents. It was easy but I kept cutting my arms on the wires we used to hold them together.

After we were done that day I went inside and checked my email while Jason got cleaned up. I wrote to everyone in my dept. and told them of the wood crib. Chris, one of my very good buddies here wrote back and said, "A wood crib! Who are you planning to put in it? Is there something we should know?"

Well of course he was thinking I meant a baby crib but I misunderstood his email and thought he was making a dead bodies in the woods joke which seemed really dark and out of character for him, but it cracked me up. Like we had to build a wood crib cuz we gone and kilt somebody! It's so creeptown.

When I got back to work I gave him some kudos for the dark joke and he, of course, had no clue what I was talking about. When I explained it he just stared at me and finally said, "So...are you pregnant or not."

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Wisco...the recap





I don't really have a ton of time with my new and exciting job duties (some of which include writing! Kick it!!) BUT I want to make sure to get something on here.

I will say that our trip was wonderful. I never had to watch anything die and caught one fish that ate my yellow spinner (not a euphemism for anything) and swam away. My in laws took such good care of us and took us out on the water or hiking to water falls or something fun and new every day.

The time with Jason was, as always, wonderful. The trip up in our super cool PT Cruiser we rented, the time there, the trip home, after getting home....I never get sick of him, I swear. He'll steam my clams at times (a euphemism) but only in that trying to suppress my laughter way that I secretly love. Watching how people interact with their families is the most telling thing ever. He is helpful and sweet to his mom and dad in such a sincere way. Blah blah blah...Jason this and Jason that. He's truly just wonderful company and a stand up cat, but don't tell him I said that, it'll go straight to his head.

SO~ (buttons) here is the important list of animals I saw UP CLOSE while on my trip.

  1. deer drinking water by the lakeside
  2. one otter
  3. one muskrat
  4. one giant Northern that I caught but that ate my bait.
  5. lots of big fish Jason caught but threw back.
  6. Two gaggles or flocks or whatever of wild turkeys! Isn't that nuts?
  7. cranes cranes cranes who I am now in love with because the way they walk is the cutest. They look like they are sneaking around.
  8. ducks
  9. seagulls
  10. three eagles!

I hope I haven't forgotten any. I was really hoping to see a bear but no dice. My mother in law called me two days ago and left a message saying a bear had just walked through their front yard! Dang it! I can't believe I missed that.

Tomorrow I will show you pics of the wood we split.


Thursday, August 31, 2006

Heading Up Nort!

Jason and I leave tomorrow for our week long Wisco adventure! His parents (my in-laws if you do the math) live up in the true and actual..north woods. Some of you might not know this, but I'm not really the fishing type, but that is the majority of what we will be doing up there.

I'm a little nervous just because for some reason lately the thought of anything dying, even a slimy, wiggly fish makes me deeply saddened. However, I bet I get over it pretty quickly.

My prediction, or hope, is that I end up loving it and having a blast. That's usually how life works out for me, if I will it in that direction.

Behold my power of positive thinking!

OR I'll end up hooking my own ear, confronting a bear, or taking a wrong turn in the canoe and ending up in Michigan.

Behold my power of reality.

sigh.

I'll photog the whole ordeal/wonderful experience and blog about it when I return.

Until then.....keep reachin' for the stars kids.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Aging Aliens





Last night I had the strangest dream. I sailed away to China...in a little row boat to find ya. You said you had to get your laundry clean.

Just kidding. That's a song lyric...not a dream. THIS is a dream.

I was doing improv again for one night only in some other state and my entire team (whoever the were since I'm not on an improv team anymore) forgot to show up so it was just me and this other team I'd never met doing an hour long improv show.

I ended up having to start it off with a solo scene so I put on this long blue cape thing and snapped at the light booth. The house lights went down and one lone spot light came up.

I started walking in an X pattern around the stage and finally said in this low voice....

"Attention all Venutians. Before starting today's activities please be reminded that tomorrow is the start of 'Help A Senior Venutian Citizen Week'"

The audience laughed and laughed and I won the respect of all the other performers. Then I blacked out ala Peggy Sue Got Married and woke up after the show to everyone standing around me.

Faceless Performer: "Crescent you had a great show!"
Me: "Thanks but I don't remember anything past the Venutian announcments bit. That always happens when I'm on stage."

Friday, August 04, 2006

Happy Birthday Husbo!



Happy Birthday today to my main little dude, Jason. I couldn't love you more if I tried. You bring out the best in me and everyone you encounter.

Anyone who reads this and knows (or doesn't know) Jason leave a happy b-day comment if you feel so inclined.

One small side note. The woman who cut my hair today has the exact same big toe thumbs as I do. She said someone once told her that big stubby thumbs meant good fortune and a happy life. So let's hope the former shakes out. The latter is already true.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

A Wild and Crazzzy Night!


First of all I have to say that it's absolutely splendid that the pictured taco is wearing his wraper in diaper fashion.

Now, down to business.

Jason and I decided to sleep the opposite of bed-wise last night to be closer to the fan air. We still both slept like crap, but when I did sleep I had the weirdest dreams ever. Or different I should say. All my dreams are the weirdest ever.

First off, I can tell the dieting is starting to work because I had a first food lust dream. I was eating a giant meaty taco with tons of super cold sour cream on the top. I couldn't get enough of it. And it was that really nasty, but good cafeteria style ground beef that I adore. Sad but true.

THEN I had what seemed like a five hour dream about being on a tv show with Steve Martin! I had a super small, but regular role and we all had to live in this big apartment complex together while filming. I wanted to be buds with Steve (but he liked my roommate more because she had been there last summer) so I told him I was reading one of his books, but then blanked on the name of it and he said.."wow. I can tell it's really making an impression on you." and rolled his eyes and walked off! Then I had a scene with him where I had one line but every time I said it I spilled something and he said "CUT!...we'll resume when Crescent gets her act together."

(In real life I spilled a cub of bright red fruit puree on our wall and fridge. I'm sure this is why that kept happening in my dream. It looked like a stabbing had taken place in there.)

I never won his friendship. I tried, but no dice. I woke up and thought maybe if I'm there again next summer it will be enough time to be friends with that whole crowd including Steve. So wish me luck.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Sensativo

(this picture slays me because you KNOW that kitten is thinking about having that duckling for brunch, but it LOOKS so gentle.)

I am such a raw nerve lately and for no good reason at all! I think it is a combo of a few things....none of which are major.

  • Heat...I'm kind of ready for fall. It's my favorite season and I look much better in sweaters and boots than t-shirts and sandals.
  • Fatness....If I don't start exercising every day nothing is going to change for me. I hate that this is true, but it just is.
  • Lack of Direction.....Am I really going to be an admin. as my career? Really? I think I need to rethink that and face some fears that I have about things that I truly want. Children, money and things (sorry, but it's just how I feel), a graduate degree, a job that matters to me that involves writing. Sometimes I think I'm really missing my boat and should be teaching. It's in my blood as is writing. I come from a long line of amazing teachers.
  • Homesickness....I feel weirdly disconnected from my parents right now and I don't think I am, I think I just need to plan a nice long weekend at my parents house soon.

I had one of those days where those bullet points had me dragged so far down that the fact that the dept. lunch I had planned wasn't perfect (an hour early and chicken SANDWICHES instead of fried chicken) made me actually have to fight back tears at my desk. But in usual life fashion by the time the lunch was over I had a happy/full dept., a ticket to a Cubs game with some co-workers for next week, an amazingly sweet and supportive e-mail from my husband and fun plans for after work tonight with my friend Tim.

I have so many beautiful people in my life and so much going for me. I need to remember that and take charge of those things that I can change and just change them already! That bothers me about myself, but I'm sure I'm not alone when it comes to letting your own self be the worst road block. That syntax is wayyy off in the preceding sentence, but I care not.

I'm having one of those sneeze attacks right now that won't stop but also makes me laugh so hard that I feel like the combo may kill me. I'm giving the "bless you!" guy who sits next to me a run for his money.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

The Cold That Wouldn't Die...



I still have this cold. Now it is rattling around in my chest and making me sound like a dude.

J and I are going to Madison this weekend for some water skiing and family fun time with my sister and brother-in-law. I'm hoping desperatly that I'm totally better by then. This is the most boring post ever. I am reading it in a robo voice because it is so boring. I suggest you do the same.

Before leaving for work:

Jason: You don't sound very refreshed. (his word for everything good)

Crescent: No...I'm not. I'm not very refreshed at all. (in man voice) (coughing fit) (sneeze)

Jason: whoa.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Turning 30

An Article I wrote when I turned 30. I'm almost 32. I just found this again and wanted to post it here for safe keeping or posting or whatever.


June 1, 2005

The Brighter Side of.....
Turning 30.
By Crescent Tay Prah

“Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese.” - Billie Burke


I was more excited about turning thirty than I was when I found out Bon Jovi was putting out a box set. Maybe that was a subconscious subterfuge, because I was gob smacked by what I, apparently, truly felt about the three oh! milestone.

A little more than a year and 1/2 ago I was temping (see The Brighter Side Of…….Unemployment for a point of reference) at this insurance firm run by a rich, wee, evil man. Oh the first two days he was sweeter than a pixie stick inside a Twinkie. Purtrid, but nice. On day three he was about as sweet as battery acid and twice as toxic. Every day he would find a way to gutpunch my self esteem until I felt like a bottle of shampoo that’s turned upside down ensuring total emptiness before it’s thrown out. One morning he apparently awoke with the burning ,need to repeatedly inform me that I was THE most inept human on the planet and how I would have to improve if I was going to continue working there during the holiday season (for $8.50 an hour mind you).

Despite his less than savory comments about my job performance, I truly was doing the best I could, which wasn’t half bad, if I do say so myself. He just happened to be the living, breathing, slithering, human incarnation of hemorrhoids. Unpredictable, inconvenient and on your ass. I tried to go to that heavenly place in my mind that is able to instantly turn moments of strife into an award winning, Sundance, two thumbs up coming of age film that speaks to a lost generation looking for answers, but all I could find was a depressing, boring, tired made for TV movie so uninspiring that UPN considered it a ratings liability. So I took it. I

I was more embarrassed by that then I was by the fact that I was somehow unable to master the fine art of mailing out 500 Holiday cards to clients. The cards were his issue. Not telling him where to stick them was mine. I let him tear me up and down while I looked at my feet and apologized and compulsively nodded and tried desperately NOT to bawl and/or kick him in the shin and finally he “let” me take my lunch hour he didn’t pay me for.

It was 120 degress below zero that day. It was. Seriously. Look it up. I was miserably cold and broke and embarrassed and so mad that I fantasized about how amazing it would feel to punch that Napolean complex having, stomach turning bastard square in the face. Central Wisconsin style. Actually, now that I think about it, even a year later it STILL sounds pretty delish AND dollars to donuts he still deserves it. But I had no business punching jerks in the face when I couldn’t even use words to stand up for myself. So, I walked and walked….and thought and thought…and froze and froze and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t picture myself ever being able to make the leap from girl to woman. Maybe that should’ve given me a sense of eternal youth or something, but all it gave me was a panic attack and heartburn.

After a few more frigid city blocks a thought pushed its’ way to the front of my overcrowded brain….. “What if I just don’t go back? What bad would come if I kept going until I was home?” and I didn’t mean my Lincoln Square apartment….I meant home. Wisconsin. Green Avenue. Mom and Dad….making me sandwiches, buying me a warmer coat, insisting I nap and watch movies all day, laughing at my C material like it was A+++. How could that not be a super great idea? It’s only a 247 mile walk from the loop to my hometown. It’s not really all that far, all things considered.

Of course I went back to my temp job like the good little adult I was trying to be…..but only because I wasn’t wearing proper walking shoes.

“As for me, except for an occasional heart attack, I feel as young as I ever did.” - Robert Benchley

After that a bunch of things happened, like things tend to do and all of a sudden it was fall. The end of my 20’s was nigh, but I’d never felt more optimistic. I actually toyed with the idea of writing a book and calling it, “Wake me when I’m 30!” or at least have the phrase printed onto a t-shirt…..or a bumper sticker…or at least adding it to my vernacular. Everyone kept asking me,

“Soooo…..how you feelin’? 30…man…..do you feel weird? Are you ready? No more 20’s….wow……so are you freaking out?”

My answer was a theme and variation on “If I had the chance to skip ahead to my birthday right now, I would take it and buy whoever made it possible a 12 month subscription to the magazine of their choice.” I truly believed 30 and I were going to be the best of friends and reign supreme as the cool badass girls who everyone wants to hang with, but is also scared of a little AND we would spread the word, via the bathroom wall, about how lame and uncool the 20’s were, soiling their reputation forever. Then 30 and I would rule the school.

Here was my theory:

Your late 20’s are almost a carbon copy of puberty. Confusion, insecurity, growth, regression, ….basically everything but the Judy Blume books and the awkward slow dances. A theorem worthy of Pythagoras. I had conveniently forgotten that the only reason I passed math my senior year of high school was because the remedial algebra teacher and I made a deal; she would give me a C grade if her cut my hair with a Flobee hair vacuuming system in front of the class. Not to embarrass me or anything, she just was passionate about sucking hair and wanted to spread the good word and maybe even sell a couple units if all went according to plan.

Needless to say…..I passed math….and it was almost worth having bangs that stopped an inch above my eyebrows for the next four months. Point being….math ain’t my thing. In fact, I’m not even sure I believe in it. It very well may be a bunch of nonsense made up by a bunch of men with long beards and no social life. Regardless, my equation had some sizeable flaws.

I really expected that my actual 30th birthday would be some sort of gorgeous emancipation complete with a feel good, top 40 power ballad. At 8:34 am, 30 years to the minute that I was born, I would shake off all the doubt and fear and become the kind of woman they make Lifetime movies about. Together…..confidant…..wise…….and strong as a Meredith Baxter Birney character.

“The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy.” - Helen Hayes

Thanks a truckload, Helen. You really know how to start a party.

The day came, as days tend to do. October 8th. I woke up feeling fair to midline….not sad….but I certainly wasn’t as brand spankin’ new as I had expected to be. I strained with all my might to hear my new theme song, but everything sounded just like it did the day before. It reminded me of when I was 8 and was first becoming aware of what the word “insomnia” meant.
Pronunciation: in-'säm-nE-&Function: noun: prolonged and usually abnormal inability to obtain adequate sleep.

(I haven’t slept since.)

I decided that instead of laying awake all night praying for morning maybe I should pray for something that matters more…….. like Barbies. I spent an entire night praying, to God mind you, for every Barbie/Ken and Skipper ever made, as well as each and every accoutrement including the oft coveted Dream House……the newlyweds needed a suitable home….(my Dad’s sock drawer just wasn’t cutting it).. By 3:15 a.m. delirium was rearing its ugly head. I honestly believed that God, in his infinite wisdom, wasn’t about to let me down. Not only did it seem plausible….it seemed extremely likely.

When the sun finally came up and I realized I had made it through the night, (albeit wide awake and praying desperately for Barbie product,) I felt absolved….free…ready to see some serious Mattel booty behind those sliding doors. When neither the Barbies nor the Kens, not even a crappy Skipper, were there I didn’t feel betrayed by God or resigned to a life of bitterness and/or Paganism or anything….I was just bummed, for lack of a better word. God and I were cool….not, like, CHURCH going cool, but I knew where he was coming from….blah blah blah….more important things to do than give an 8 year old with chronic insomnia and mild to moderate case of blind faith a closet full of toys.

Flash forward to the morn of what my sisters for liked to call my “dirty birdie thirty”.

“Age does not protect you from love, but love to some extent protects you from age.” - Jeanne Moreau

I knew the weekend would be full of fun for three reasons…..

1. It was my 30th.
2. My friends and family are consistently outstanding.
3. I had subtly insisted that my friends throw me a party on Friday and demurely demanded that my sisters come to Chicago for the day.

Friday I was treated to a surprise party at my favorite gay bar from my favorite friends. It was a blast. I got to wear a tierra. My drinks were free. Truly a wonderful and fun night.
Saturday morning. Feeling fine. Drank like a grown up the night before thus avoiding a hangover. So far so good.

I call my oldest sister, Jacy, to see exactly how much time I have to scoop out the litter box, light ridiculous amounts of candles and select an outfit that said, comfort first….fashion always. Then I remembered that I wasn’t Jaclyn Smith and put on my regular Saturday jeans and sweater. Jacy informed me, that Kendra (middle sister) is home in bed with, what sounded to me like consumption or rickets maybe, but was apparently merely a cold. I understood. Everyone gets a case of the consumption rickets now and then, but I wished and wished it wasn’t the case.

However, I was comforted and excited that Jacy, Jon (her husbo, my brother-in-law) and my 12 year old nephew, Calvin, who until he was 8 referred to me as his favorite “brudder” even though I was a girl and his aunt. All three are fun and wonderful so I still was feeling optimistic about the day a head. They arrived, presents in hand. I hugged them frequently and showed them anything I could to make my apartment seem more like a house and my cats seem more like children. Just as I was explaining the reason our door knob kept falling off…there was a new knock on the door. My first thought? Landlord….late rent….beautiful….I’m about to be mortified.

I opened the door, picked up the knob that had just fallen off…..again…. there’s Kendra, smirking the smirk she smirks so well….so proud of herself for pulling off the ruse…..so happy to see me. I was speechless, (which hasn’t happened since the Carter administration). She hugged me she said, “Did you really think I wouldn’t’ be here for your 30th doofus?”
I was about to inform her that it TAKES a doofus to KNOW a doofus when a new knock caused the door knob, that I had just re-secured, to fall onto the floor…..again. Now that MUST be the landlord with a late rent notice and, if we were lucky, a new door knob.
This time it HAS to be the landlord, ten-day notice in hand. Wonderful. Now BOTH my big sisters will get to witness my dirty birdie humiliation.

This time I just stuck a bent up hanger in the hole that used to house the aforementioned knob to pull the door open. Turned out to be my former landlords instead, Mom and Dad, both putting Kendra’s previous smirk to shame.

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you was?- Satchel Paige

There they were. The Green Ave. clan in my barley bigger than a breadbox apartment. I kept trying to figure out how to be and tell and show them everything that I wanted to in the few hours I had them before they made their way back to Wisco. So I spanked my cat (he likes it, I swear) and showed them where I get Gatorade and Slim Jims, and made them ride the brown line from Western to Kimball and proceeded to tell them everything I think and feel and see on my way to a job they’d never know I hated. Poor Kendra suffers from debilitating motion sickness, but remained enthusiastic despite the fact that she was greener than Kermit on St. Patty’s Day.

We rode back. Had dinner at the restaurant below my apartment. We had a blast as always, but inside I was panicking. They will leave soon and you haven’t articulated what their being here means to you or who you are right now or how nervous I am that my apartment will make them sad for me or where you wish you were or how much they matter. The only thing I could think of was to try and give my Dad a $10 for the tip, which he, of course, slipped back into my purse while I was in the bathroom. Then Jacy leaned over to me and whispered (NOT a common practice for any of the Allen girls) “it’s okay…sometimes it’s all a little too much. You don’t know where to put it. We’ll come back sometime soon. You’ll get to show us everything. Don’t worry.”

My Dad paid the check…..my Mom went on and on about how she “just loved” all my little decorating touches and how the train ride was “just so neat.” Point being….for whatever reason, they all knew. They knew what their being here meant the world to me, they knew who I was, they knew I wished I lived in a movie star house and they knew how much it all mattered.
As they filtered out I noticed my Dad taking a little longer to gather his things and meandering around my kitchen….checking the durability of the windows…saying things like, “Now you have a lock on that back gate, right?” or “I bet we could get some hooks and hang those bikes up so you’d have more room in here.” or “You’ve got this fixed up real nice C.T. and you can’t beat the proximity to transportation.”. Finally he knew the place was too small to pretend to look around much longer.

I went on and on about how I couldn’t wait to go out with friends that night and tell them all about my fun day. We did our good-bye hug and both pretended it didn’t make us ache for the days when that hug only had to last us until the end of the school day.
As they walked out they all waved and smiled and laughed while I did an adequate George Bailey impression using the broken door knob as a prop. STILL feeling like maybe 30 was going to be my year….until the door closed behind them.

"I was eleven, then I was sixteen. Though no honors came my way, those were the lovely years." - Truman Capote

The expression “bursting into tears” gets thrown around willy nilly a lot, but that’s precisely what I did. I literally BURST into tears. My family was here and then they weren’t and the whole time I was so worried about making sure they knew I was doing okay that I forgot to tell them I wasn’t. I did not go out with friends that night. Instead I proceeded to bawl non-stop and make a box set of mixed cd’s, (three to be exact) of any and every song I could think of that mattered to me or reminded me of something or said something to someone they would never hear….all while under EXTREME duress. I labeled each mix with a black Sharpe marker and pure conviction.
Disk 1 – I’m Thirty.
Disk 2 – Dirty Birdy Thirty.
Disk 3 – III.
Disk 4 – 30 and Hating It

Finally, I got into bed (futon) and listened to each CD a hundred times and cried for 26 hours straight only pausing to eat fistfuls of birthday cake and replacing batteries in my weary CD player. I refused to stray from my futon because I was so mortified at my behavior, but unable to understand or stop it. Finally, I fell asleep and woke up Monday morning to my cell phone alarm (Surrender, by Cheap Trick…if you must know) and went to work, as always.

“I always think…what would 8 year old me think of me today?” – Anne Katzfey

I know what you’re all thinking….

“Brighter side my ass! This was supposed to be a self-help guide…..instructions on how to cope with growing up and how it’s hilarious….WHAT GIVES CRESCENT?????”
Maybe that’s why it took me until June to write about something that happened in October. I wanted to give my students some sage advice or at the very least some faux comfort about it all. The thing is, I have fewer answers than ever. That’s the bad news.

The good news is this; 30 isn’t the end of a journey. Who wants answers after only three decades on this ride? Personally, I hope I don’t “find myself” until I’m old as dirt and just about ready to call it a day. It’s not about finding the answers; it’s about asking the questions.
Where has my head and heart been since turning 30? All over the map, just like it was when I turned 29 and just like it will be on my 31st. I’ve never felt more aimless or confused. I wonder if being so blindly optimistic has held me back in the grand scheme. I’m no where near living the life the eight year old me would’ve wanted. A part of me wished my family would’ve demanded I come back home with them that night. Another part of me is grateful everyday since that they didn’t.

When the two day sobathon was over something moved in my ribs or stomach or knees…at that second whether I knew it or not, I knew….it’s time for me to answer my own questions instead of hoping they’ll be in my closet tomorrow morning next to a year’s supply of Barbie goods.

“There is no old age. There is, as there always was, just you.” - Carol Matthau

Turning 30

An Article I wrote when I turned 30. I'm almost 32. I just found this again and wanted to post it here for safe keeping or posting or whatever.


June 1, 2005

The Brighter Side of.....
Turning 30.
By Crescent Tay Prah

“Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese.” - Billie Burke


I was more excited about turning thirty than I was when I found out Bon Jovi was putting out a box set. Maybe that was a subconscious subterfuge, because I was gob smacked by what I, apparently, truly felt about the three oh! milestone.

A little more than a year and 1/2 ago I was temping (see The Brighter Side Of…….Unemployment for a point of reference) at this insurance firm run by a rich, wee, evil man. Oh the first two days he was sweeter than a pixie stick inside a Twinkie. Purtrid, but nice. On day three he was about as sweet as battery acid and twice as toxic. Every day he would find a way to gutpunch my self esteem until I felt like a bottle of shampoo that’s turned upside down ensuring total emptiness before it’s thrown out. One morning he apparently awoke with the burning ,need to repeatedly inform me that I was THE most inept human on the planet and how I would have to improve if I was going to continue working there during the holiday season (for $8.50 an hour mind you).

Despite his less than savory comments about my job performance, I truly was doing the best I could, which wasn’t half bad, if I do say so myself. He just happened to be the living, breathing, slithering, human incarnation of hemorrhoids. Unpredictable, inconvenient and on your ass. I tried to go to that heavenly place in my mind that is able to instantly turn moments of strife into an award winning, Sundance, two thumbs up coming of age film that speaks to a lost generation looking for answers, but all I could find was a depressing, boring, tired made for TV movie so uninspiring that UPN considered it a ratings liability. So I took it. I

I was more embarrassed by that then I was by the fact that I was somehow unable to master the fine art of mailing out 500 Holiday cards to clients. The cards were his issue. Not telling him where to stick them was mine. I let him tear me up and down while I looked at my feet and apologized and compulsively nodded and tried desperately NOT to bawl and/or kick him in the shin and finally he “let” me take my lunch hour he didn’t pay me for.

It was 120 degress below zero that day. It was. Seriously. Look it up. I was miserably cold and broke and embarrassed and so mad that I fantasized about how amazing it would feel to punch that Napolean complex having, stomach turning bastard square in the face. Central Wisconsin style. Actually, now that I think about it, even a year later it STILL sounds pretty delish AND dollars to donuts he still deserves it. But I had no business punching jerks in the face when I couldn’t even use words to stand up for myself. So, I walked and walked….and thought and thought…and froze and froze and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t picture myself ever being able to make the leap from girl to woman. Maybe that should’ve given me a sense of eternal youth or something, but all it gave me was a panic attack and heartburn.

After a few more frigid city blocks a thought pushed its’ way to the front of my overcrowded brain….. “What if I just don’t go back? What bad would come if I kept going until I was home?” and I didn’t mean my Lincoln Square apartment….I meant home. Wisconsin. Green Avenue. Mom and Dad….making me sandwiches, buying me a warmer coat, insisting I nap and watch movies all day, laughing at my C material like it was A+++. How could that not be a super great idea? It’s only a 247 mile walk from the loop to my hometown. It’s not really all that far, all things considered.

Of course I went back to my temp job like the good little adult I was trying to be…..but only because I wasn’t wearing proper walking shoes.

“As for me, except for an occasional heart attack, I feel as young as I ever did.” - Robert Benchley

After that a bunch of things happened, like things tend to do and all of a sudden it was fall. The end of my 20’s was nigh, but I’d never felt more optimistic. I actually toyed with the idea of writing a book and calling it, “Wake me when I’m 30!” or at least have the phrase printed onto a t-shirt…..or a bumper sticker…or at least adding it to my vernacular. Everyone kept asking me,

“Soooo…..how you feelin’? 30…man…..do you feel weird? Are you ready? No more 20’s….wow……so are you freaking out?”

My answer was a theme and variation on “If I had the chance to skip ahead to my birthday right now, I would take it and buy whoever made it possible a 12 month subscription to the magazine of their choice.” I truly believed 30 and I were going to be the best of friends and reign supreme as the cool badass girls who everyone wants to hang with, but is also scared of a little AND we would spread the word, via the bathroom wall, about how lame and uncool the 20’s were, soiling their reputation forever. Then 30 and I would rule the school.

Here was my theory:

Your late 20’s are almost a carbon copy of puberty. Confusion, insecurity, growth, regression, ….basically everything but the Judy Blume books and the awkward slow dances. A theorem worthy of Pythagoras. I had conveniently forgotten that the only reason I passed math my senior year of high school was because the remedial algebra teacher and I made a deal; she would give me a C grade if her cut my hair with a Flobee hair vacuuming system in front of the class. Not to embarrass me or anything, she just was passionate about sucking hair and wanted to spread the good word and maybe even sell a couple units if all went according to plan.

Needless to say…..I passed math….and it was almost worth having bangs that stopped an inch above my eyebrows for the next four months. Point being….math ain’t my thing. In fact, I’m not even sure I believe in it. It very well may be a bunch of nonsense made up by a bunch of men with long beards and no social life. Regardless, my equation had some sizeable flaws.

I really expected that my actual 30th birthday would be some sort of gorgeous emancipation complete with a feel good, top 40 power ballad. At 8:34 am, 30 years to the minute that I was born, I would shake off all the doubt and fear and become the kind of woman they make Lifetime movies about. Together…..confidant…..wise…….and strong as a Meredith Baxter Birney character.

“The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy.” - Helen Hayes

Thanks a truckload, Helen. You really know how to start a party.

The day came, as days tend to do. October 8th. I woke up feeling fair to midline….not sad….but I certainly wasn’t as brand spankin’ new as I had expected to be. I strained with all my might to hear my new theme song, but everything sounded just like it did the day before. It reminded me of when I was 8 and was first becoming aware of what the word “insomnia” meant.
Pronunciation: in-'säm-nE-&Function: noun: prolonged and usually abnormal inability to obtain adequate sleep.

(I haven’t slept since.)

I decided that instead of laying awake all night praying for morning maybe I should pray for something that matters more…….. like Barbies. I spent an entire night praying, to God mind you, for every Barbie/Ken and Skipper ever made, as well as each and every accoutrement including the oft coveted Dream House……the newlyweds needed a suitable home….(my Dad’s sock drawer just wasn’t cutting it).. By 3:15 a.m. delirium was rearing its ugly head. I honestly believed that God, in his infinite wisdom, wasn’t about to let me down. Not only did it seem plausible….it seemed extremely likely.

When the sun finally came up and I realized I had made it through the night, (albeit wide awake and praying desperately for Barbie product,) I felt absolved….free…ready to see some serious Mattel booty behind those sliding doors. When neither the Barbies nor the Kens, not even a crappy Skipper, were there I didn’t feel betrayed by God or resigned to a life of bitterness and/or Paganism or anything….I was just bummed, for lack of a better word. God and I were cool….not, like, CHURCH going cool, but I knew where he was coming from….blah blah blah….more important things to do than give an 8 year old with chronic insomnia and mild to moderate case of blind faith a closet full of toys.

Flash forward to the morn of what my sisters for liked to call my “dirty birdie thirty”.

“Age does not protect you from love, but love to some extent protects you from age.” - Jeanne Moreau

I knew the weekend would be full of fun for three reasons…..

1. It was my 30th.
2. My friends and family are consistently outstanding.
3. I had subtly insisted that my friends throw me a party on Friday and demurely demanded that my sisters come to Chicago for the day.

Friday I was treated to a surprise party at my favorite gay bar from my favorite friends. It was a blast. I got to wear a tierra. My drinks were free. Truly a wonderful and fun night.
Saturday morning. Feeling fine. Drank like a grown up the night before thus avoiding a hangover. So far so good.

I call my oldest sister, Jacy, to see exactly how much time I have to scoop out the litter box, light ridiculous amounts of candles and select an outfit that said, comfort first….fashion always. Then I remembered that I wasn’t Jaclyn Smith and put on my regular Saturday jeans and sweater. Jacy informed me, that Kendra (middle sister) is home in bed with, what sounded to me like consumption or rickets maybe, but was apparently merely a cold. I understood. Everyone gets a case of the consumption rickets now and then, but I wished and wished it wasn’t the case.

However, I was comforted and excited that Jacy, Jon (her husbo, my brother-in-law) and my 12 year old nephew, Calvin, who until he was 8 referred to me as his favorite “brudder” even though I was a girl and his aunt. All three are fun and wonderful so I still was feeling optimistic about the day a head. They arrived, presents in hand. I hugged them frequently and showed them anything I could to make my apartment seem more like a house and my cats seem more like children. Just as I was explaining the reason our door knob kept falling off…there was a new knock on the door. My first thought? Landlord….late rent….beautiful….I’m about to be mortified.

I opened the door, picked up the knob that had just fallen off…..again…. there’s Kendra, smirking the smirk she smirks so well….so proud of herself for pulling off the ruse…..so happy to see me. I was speechless, (which hasn’t happened since the Carter administration). She hugged me she said, “Did you really think I wouldn’t’ be here for your 30th doofus?”
I was about to inform her that it TAKES a doofus to KNOW a doofus when a new knock caused the door knob, that I had just re-secured, to fall onto the floor…..again. Now that MUST be the landlord with a late rent notice and, if we were lucky, a new door knob.
This time it HAS to be the landlord, ten-day notice in hand. Wonderful. Now BOTH my big sisters will get to witness my dirty birdie humiliation.

This time I just stuck a bent up hanger in the hole that used to house the aforementioned knob to pull the door open. Turned out to be my former landlords instead, Mom and Dad, both putting Kendra’s previous smirk to shame.

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you was?- Satchel Paige

There they were. The Green Ave. clan in my barley bigger than a breadbox apartment. I kept trying to figure out how to be and tell and show them everything that I wanted to in the few hours I had them before they made their way back to Wisco. So I spanked my cat (he likes it, I swear) and showed them where I get Gatorade and Slim Jims, and made them ride the brown line from Western to Kimball and proceeded to tell them everything I think and feel and see on my way to a job they’d never know I hated. Poor Kendra suffers from debilitating motion sickness, but remained enthusiastic despite the fact that she was greener than Kermit on St. Patty’s Day.

We rode back. Had dinner at the restaurant below my apartment. We had a blast as always, but inside I was panicking. They will leave soon and you haven’t articulated what their being here means to you or who you are right now or how nervous I am that my apartment will make them sad for me or where you wish you were or how much they matter. The only thing I could think of was to try and give my Dad a $10 for the tip, which he, of course, slipped back into my purse while I was in the bathroom. Then Jacy leaned over to me and whispered (NOT a common practice for any of the Allen girls) “it’s okay…sometimes it’s all a little too much. You don’t know where to put it. We’ll come back sometime soon. You’ll get to show us everything. Don’t worry.”

My Dad paid the check…..my Mom went on and on about how she “just loved” all my little decorating touches and how the train ride was “just so neat.” Point being….for whatever reason, they all knew. They knew what their being here meant the world to me, they knew who I was, they knew I wished I lived in a movie star house and they knew how much it all mattered.
As they filtered out I noticed my Dad taking a little longer to gather his things and meandering around my kitchen….checking the durability of the windows…saying things like, “Now you have a lock on that back gate, right?” or “I bet we could get some hooks and hang those bikes up so you’d have more room in here.” or “You’ve got this fixed up real nice C.T. and you can’t beat the proximity to transportation.”. Finally he knew the place was too small to pretend to look around much longer.

I went on and on about how I couldn’t wait to go out with friends that night and tell them all about my fun day. We did our good-bye hug and both pretended it didn’t make us ache for the days when that hug only had to last us until the end of the school day.
As they walked out they all waved and smiled and laughed while I did an adequate George Bailey impression using the broken door knob as a prop. STILL feeling like maybe 30 was going to be my year….until the door closed behind them.

"I was eleven, then I was sixteen. Though no honors came my way, those were the lovely years." - Truman Capote

The expression “bursting into tears” gets thrown around willy nilly a lot, but that’s precisely what I did. I literally BURST into tears. My family was here and then they weren’t and the whole time I was so worried about making sure they knew I was doing okay that I forgot to tell them I wasn’t. I did not go out with friends that night. Instead I proceeded to bawl non-stop and make a box set of mixed cd’s, (three to be exact) of any and every song I could think of that mattered to me or reminded me of something or said something to someone they would never hear….all while under EXTREME duress. I labeled each mix with a black Sharpe marker and pure conviction.
Disk 1 – I’m Thirty.
Disk 2 – Dirty Birdy Thirty.
Disk 3 – III.
Disk 4 – 30 and Hating It

Finally, I got into bed (futon) and listened to each CD a hundred times and cried for 26 hours straight only pausing to eat fistfuls of birthday cake and replacing batteries in my weary CD player. I refused to stray from my futon because I was so mortified at my behavior, but unable to understand or stop it. Finally, I fell asleep and woke up Monday morning to my cell phone alarm (Surrender, by Cheap Trick…if you must know) and went to work, as always.

“I always think…what would 8 year old me think of me today?” – Anne Katzfey

I know what you’re all thinking….

“Brighter side my ass! This was supposed to be a self-help guide…..instructions on how to cope with growing up and how it’s hilarious….WHAT GIVES CRESCENT?????”
Maybe that’s why it took me until June to write about something that happened in October. I wanted to give my students some sage advice or at the very least some faux comfort about it all. The thing is, I have fewer answers than ever. That’s the bad news.

The good news is this; 30 isn’t the end of a journey. Who wants answers after only three decades on this ride? Personally, I hope I don’t “find myself” until I’m old as dirt and just about ready to call it a day. It’s not about finding the answers; it’s about asking the questions.
Where has my head and heart been since turning 30? All over the map, just like it was when I turned 29 and just like it will be on my 31st. I’ve never felt more aimless or confused. I wonder if being so blindly optimistic has held me back in the grand scheme. I’m no where near living the life the eight year old me would’ve wanted. A part of me wished my family would’ve demanded I come back home with them that night. Another part of me is grateful everyday since that they didn’t.

When the two day sobathon was over something moved in my ribs or stomach or knees…at that second whether I knew it or not, I knew….it’s time for me to answer my own questions instead of hoping they’ll be in my closet tomorrow morning next to a year’s supply of Barbie goods.

“There is no old age. There is, as there always was, just you.” - Carol Matthau

Monday, July 17, 2006

Mildy Concerned



First of all.....I dreamed I was possessed again. This time I was yelling and making these horrible scary devil noises out of my mouth and then someone gave me a picture of my dad and I burped really loudly and knew that I was gonna be okay. I wonder if I burped in real life. Leave it to me to be a sleep burper. Later in the dream my middle sister was confronted and bitten by a skunk. I just watch too much TV I think. That's literally all I did yesterday so I'm sure something reminded my subconscious of a skunk and Emily Rose again. YEP got it. I started watching the 1977 supernatural thriller, Audrey Rose. The actress who plays the title role bugged the living crap out of me so I watched Dutch instead.

But more than anything it's this damn heat. (I said that in a Charles Heston type voice and it made me laugh inside). We have an a/c unit, but it's not like the kind that makes your apt. feel like Alaska. It makes it MUCH better than it is outside but it's still too warm for my Wisco blood.

We kept having brown outs yesterday (that's when the power goes almost off but stays on just enough to make everything look and sound exactly how the heat makes you feel...sluggish, unreliable and dim). At first it only affected our kitchen so the a/c was still working but then right after Jason left for his wine tasting group EVERYTHING went out. I gasped and said a swear and then sat on my couch totally still with my hands on my lap in the silence wondering how long the power would be out. I was less nervous about not having our a/c or fan working and more concerned about how high I would jump when everything whirred back on. I hate that feeling....knowing I'm going to be startled.

It came back on about 4 minutes later and I did jump as predicted. Everything worked better then it had all day at that point. EXCEPT.........the cable. Which is STILL out. I watched a whole season of What's Happening on DVD and finally just went to bed.

maybe as a no cable having treat to myself I'll pick up Good Times season 1 on the way home.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Bob Newhart and the End of the World


I realize this is sort of turning into a dream blog, but whatever. I told you I was a frequent, detailed dreamer. I'm here. I dream. Get used to it.

Sooo.....last night's little epic nightmare began with my husband telling me he was going to run into this little store and buy me a flower. He came out with tuna salad on his hand and spread it all over the wool coat I was wearing. That was pretty incidental to the rest of the dream, but I was like....um dude....not cool. That part was merely the 7-11 tuna salad sandwich I'd had for dinner haunting me.

Anyway, the meat of the dream was this. The devil decided to come down and end the world at a banquet that Bob Newhart was attending with me. Everything started to catch fire and this weird language started appearing on the dais behind Mr. Newhart. Then THAT caught fire, but every time I told him to get out and run he would turn around and the fire would disappear for that instant. Bob was not listening to me at ALL!

All of a sudden I realized that years back the devil had had a thing for me (?????) and I knew that I could save the world at least for a few decades if I professed my love to him. Yeah. Scary, right? So I started screaming in LATIN and everything got louder and louder and then I woke up. Jason and Ava (one of my cats) both were sitting up staring at me like freaked out prairie dogs.

A little scary, yes? Plus I have this whole hang up about the movie What's Eating Emily Rose or whatever it's called about the girl getting possessed in the night. Jason teases me about it all the time, but this time I was extra freaked because my head hurt soooo badly when I woke up. Then I remembered I have a cold from hell (hahahaha) and that the headache was more likely to be a result of sinus pressure then demon possession.

J and I were talking about it more this morning before I went to work and I have to say he's pretty great about listening to my dreams. He actually seems like he finds them interesting which should probably put him in line for sainthood. We were discussing the roots of the dream.

Me: I think the reason I dreamed about all the gibberish written on the wall is because they were showing all that Hebrew text on that Anne Frank show we watched last night.

J: Hebrew isn't gibberish dude.



PS - A GIANT happy birthday to my dear friend Matt K.!!! You are like the older brother I never wanted. I kid....I kid. We will party down on Saturday!!!!

Monday, July 10, 2006

Dream people can be mean sometimes....

Over the past week I've had three dreams about people that I'm really close to talking behind my back about how I never follow through on anything. I suppose it's sort of very true in a lot of ways, but dang....hurts my dream feelings.

BUT hurt feelings aside it's made me even more aware of this nagging feeling I've had for the past million years that I need to try something new. Just because. Painting or dance classes (not really totally new since I danced from age 6-20, but still....) or finally put my play up somewhere. The last I'm kind of gonna have to do now because I have a friend who wants to direct it pretty badly, but I want to do something else too. Something that isn't focused on getting skinny or working or any of that. Something new and fun, but healthy.

We'll see. According to ALL my so called dream best friends I kind of am a loser. Dream jerks.

Awake me is determined to prove them wrong this time.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Mail Call!

My nephew (pictured above from a Chicago visit last summer) is at camp all this week and each year when he goes I try to make sure to e-mail him at least once. They do a mail call each day where they bring the campers print outs of their e-mails. The future is now. I remember mail....like the kind from bags and boxes.

Anyway, I just sent him the following e-mail but after reading it again I am realizing how weird I am. His camper friends will probably ask what's wrong with me. Oh well. Too late. Anyway, the kid gets me. Always has, hopefully always will.

Hey bud!!!
How's camp? Oh wait....you can't answer so I guess I’ll just have to answer FOR you.

Me: How's camp?
You: It's really great.
Me: You doing anything extra cool this year?
You: Um..yeah...a few things I guess.
Me: Oh yeah? Like what?
You: Well yesterday we learned how to catch and kill mountain lions with our bare hands and then cook them using nothing but a torch made out of pirate bones. That was pretty cool.
Me: Anything else?
You: Oh...and tonight we are going to have a karate chopping contest....to the DEATH!
Me: That should be fun, huh?
You: Probably. Also, I broke the record for longest time log rolling. 56 hours and 23 minutes. They would just throw food at me and I'd have to try and catch it in my mouth while rolling on the log. It was kinda fun, I suppose.
Me: So the usual then.
You: Pretty much.

Love,
Aunt Me

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Work Fridge

So this is Freddy. My best friend and partner in really dumb private jokes. We frequently joke that we are actually twins but there was a mix up at the two separate hospitals we were born in or our mother's are lying to us.

Anyway, he won a fridge, or rather, was rewarded with a fridge from a company we work with. It was for getting a million leads or something. It's a tiny under the desk size fridge that has a hot AND cold setting. He is a soda junkie so he keeps it on cold.

One of the many perks of being his friend AND co-worker is that I get some real estate in this new fridge. I keep three cans of Diet Coke with lime and my snack packs. I always worry about bugging him when I ask for one of my items, but I think he sort of likes it. A few of us have stuff in there and he always seems more than happy to dole out our goods.

I just went over there for a snack pack and he was eating lunch and working at his pewter.

Me: Can I please have a pudding?
Fred: Certainly! (reaches in...grabs Diet Cola and hands it to me)
Me: No...a pudding.
Fred: OH! A pudding! Sorry about that! (hands me a pudding). You have one snack pack remaining, ma'am.
Me: Okay...thank you. (start to walk away)
Fred: That's part of the service here.

I don't know why but it cracked me up. Like he's playing food stand or something. Ma'am? hahahahahaha...it's killing me to recap.

Earlier today he took my chair away from my desk while I was in the bathroom. He does this bi-weekly. When I came back I walked right up to his desk.

Me: Dude. Where's my chair. I have work to do.
Fred: What? I have no idea...honestly. I've been working with this computer problems.
Me: Okay, sorry to bug you.

Two minutes later he instant messages me and says:
Fred: It was me who took your chair by the way. I'm just THAT good of an actor.

This is my work environment. How could I possibly complain.


PS - since we're Fredding it up. While I was writing this entry I got this instant message from Fred.

Fred says:
http://www.boston.com/news/odd/articles/2006/06/26/man_henrietta_the_chicken_best_buddies/?rss_id=Boston.com+--+News+of+the+odd
I want a pet chicken!!

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

unfattening update





So I don't have much time....(that always makes it sound like I've been kidnapped or am on the run from the feds or something. I'm not.)

Two things related to the weight loss.

1. I realized today that I have thin calves no matter how big the rest of me is...are....is. It's pretty great. I take it for granted. I really do. I mean I don't have tiny calves by any means, but they have stayed pretty much the same size for years now and it's not too shabby.

2. I saw my collar bone again today. I hardly recognized her. We high fived and talked about that one night that we got drunk and tried to do a cherry drop off the monkey bars. Boy did that hurt us both. hahaha...hahaha....sigh.

So...two good things today. Slow and fatty...I mean steady wins the race.

Love,
C

PS - Before they trace this call......check out these two great music blogs. I'm trying to branch. out. musically.

http://www.iguessimfloating.blogspot.com/

http://indierepublican.typepad.com/musicisnotdead/2006/06/twothousand_six.html

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Lily on the Hill


Yesterday was my one year anniversary at my current job so today I decided to treat myself to a real salon hair cut and style. The kind where when I come back to work everyone tells me how much better I look (which is always appreciated but feels more than a little back-handed).

But my hair is not today's news. The woman who CUT my hair is.

Lily. She had some kind of pretty and thick accent....Russian? Swedish? Icelandic? Let's just say Slavic. She was pretty quiet the whole time she was cutting and so was I (believe it or not).
There was a ton of activity in the place among the other stylists. One guy was loudly complaining that his co-worker had given him advice on HIS hair in front of a client without being asked. Another employee kept stealing everyone's towels. THEN this super made up plastic woman the kind that wears fake eyelashes EVERYday and wears those giant Chanel sunglasses as an all day headband, was singing some pop song really loudly and twice as badly.

At that point Lily giggled a tiny bit and then I knew it was safe for me to crack up more and we both started laughing hysterically.

Lily: "You know....so much ees alwayss going on here. I sometimes just am quiet so my customer and I can enjoy the crazy, you know?"

Me: I totally agree. It's very entertaining here!

Lily: You know of Benny Heel? The comedian? The Benny Heel show, yes?

Me: Oh sure! I loved that show!

Lily: Me too. I have every....uh...what ees word...CD? no....

Me: DVD?

Lily: Ah...yes...DVD. I have them all. The entire stack (shows size of stack with her hands). He died all alone. He had a very mild heart attack, but there was no one there to help him so he died.

Me: I never knew that.....poor guy.

Lily: BUT it was beecauss he spent all his days at places just listening to everything....a bench....a bar....that's where he got his ideass for hiss shows.

That conversation coupled with another story she told me about a bitter divorcee who doesn't know what the word blonde means are the reasons she is my new stylist permanently. (hahah perm....get it?)

I love the fact that she might go home at night after cutting hair and relax with her giant stack of Benny Hill dvds. THAT's the kind of person I want cutting my hair.

Monday, June 12, 2006

I promise you....

Remember my second post ever when I said that I needed to lose weight? Well, now I REALLY need to lose weight. It all got away from me. I know not how. I mean...I do, but I'm going to pretend I don't for the indignant fun of it.

All I know is I have only lost six pounds in the past million years it seems like so, obviously, I need to kick it up a few notches. Speaking of kicks.....the bad thing is that I have, yet, another mystery injury. This time it is my left knee. I was told it was sprained, but I have no idea how or when I sprained it, which really seems to annoy people.
"What do you MEAN you don't know how you did it?" "That's crazy talk...you don't just sprain a knee and not remember how!"
Yes you do. Or I do. Or did. It just started hurting and swelling and here we are, my giant knee and I, the comedy duo of the year.

But that is KNEEther here nor there.

My point is, it is making the VERY necessary exercise I need to be doing impossible. Unless I can just move my arms around really fast while elevating and icing my knee. Will that burn calories? It's worth a try I suppose. Better than nothing and twice as funny.

Wait...what am I talking about?

Right...my pledge. So I read in one of those healthy women magazines (Self? Shape? How to Unfat Yourself?) this weekend and they said that proclaiming your weight loss goals to the masses (or in my case the three people that read my blog...Hi Matty!!) ups your chances of success by some great percentage. I think it might have something to do with shame or whatever, but it's worth a shot.

Here is my pledge:

I, Mrs. CTP, being of marginally sound mind, promise to lose 40lbs. by my 32 birthday. I will do this by drinking less wine*sniffsob*, eating better (which I'm already on top of) and flailing my arms around until my knee heals to burn calories and get into shape.

I will track my goals here and hopefully at the end of the journey I will hold up a pair of humungo jeans and then surprisingly jump out from behind them in much smaller jeans with a better hair cut and a tan.

Let the obsession begin.


PS - I have no idea what that last statement means, but it sounds kind of bad ass so I'm leaving it in.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

These dreams...



I have had the craziest week of dreams! I think it might have something to do with me being off candy. Now that that monkey is off my back everything's like....more real man. Don't get me wrong, I've been an intense and detailed dreamer since I was a child...in fact my first few vivid memories turned out to be dreams. It wasn't until about 8th grade that I found out that my nursery school teachers did NOT bring all the jungle gyms into my living room for me to use after I fell down some stairs. (the stairs part was real..of course.)

My husband is peer pressuring me to write these all down right away so I put my hard cover journal and favorite pen on the night stand (suitcase) next to our bed (futon) so I'm prepared to write down what dreams may come in the nacht. However, I think a weekly recap of my freakazoid dreams here in blog form might be fun too.

One thing that's been kind of flipping my lid this week is the fact that in almost every dream I've been able to read very detailed written word which is actually not that common for me. It's very cool and creepy to say the least.

Let's get to it.

1. A bunch of college friends, that I haven't even really thought of in years, show up to take me to a new water theme park. We decide to ride the biggest ride there. It's called...The Ocean Awaits. We all sat on a large bench and strapped ourselves in at the last minute. All of a sudden the bench FLIES out towards this endless ocean so fast and hard that I literally gagged from the pressure in the dream. We got almost to the water after free flying for at least 500 feet and I was so close to the water that I could smell salt. Like how salt on super cold apple slices smells. Then we were whipped back to land by the bungee cords....back and forth like that until we finally slowed back to a full stop on land. Then I get a text message from my dad...it says..."They buried poor Christina Jones today." (name change because it was an actual friend from high school's name). I started sobbing instantly and woke up sobbing.

2. My whole family is sitting around watching my dad open presents. He gets to the last one and it's a novel that he wrote in the 70's that none of us knew about. I was shocked and excited so I grabbed it from him and turned to the back of the last page and it said..."I am quite sure they were substantially uninvited. But here they sit none the less." Then he started telling us a story but I couldn't hear what he was saying until the last sentence which was..."I knew someone was on that bench with me because he whispered 'stay' into my ear." My sister said..."YIPES!" and I looked him in the eye and and called out like I couldn't find him....."Dad???". I apparently said that in real life too because when I woke up the sound was still kind of in the air and my throat and Jason was saying my name trying to wake me up because he knew I was having a nightmare. So that was scary...and what's with the bench and Daddy theme this week?

3. Finally, last night I dreamed I owned a stainless steel, flat headed robot with a skinny computer screen for eyes. I kissed him on top of the head and patted him gently before going to bed. My friends (that just happend to be standing around my robot and bed) asked me why I kissed him and I said..."I don't want him turning on me." I woke up and told Jason that one and he said..."that totally sounds like something you would do."

Friday, May 12, 2006

sad but true....




I just used my lunch hour to create a PowerPoint slide show called...."Smiling Gatos". It's just a bunch of pictures from the internet of cats yawning or hissing or sneezing or doing something that makes it look like they are smiling and/or laughing.

I don't know why it tickles me as much as it does, but I'm dying over here.

I've watched it about 10 times and laugh harder at my work each time. I sent it out to friends and family but honestly....I just wanted all those pictures in show form for myself.

I think I might be very very ready for the weekend.

I'm going to watch it again now.

mew.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

gravity

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Jason and I went out to dinner last night and sat outside...enjoying the early summertime weather. We were talking about old friends and apartments and times and all of a sudden I got so sad I thought I was going to have to excuse myself and cry in the bathroom like a 13 year old. I'm not sad. I'm happy...very happy. But the weight of time and loss and gain and growth and static just washed over me and kicked me in the jibblies. It might not have even been sadness. It might have just been one of those moments where time kind of stops for a second so you are forced to look back, for better or for worse.

I didn't say a word about it to Jason. It didn't ruin my night or anything. Just caught me off guard a little.

And of course now today, every song that comes onto my LaunchCast or Pandora seems to be a pin point moment from different phases of the last 7 years here in this city. It's all wonderful but it's impossible to grow and change and NOT feel some aches and pains here and there....for whatever reason.

I'm going all the way home tomorrow for my mom's birthday AND will be seeing three of my best friends from high school and their babies. I'm really looking forward to it all, but I'm hoping this bittersweet fever I'm running clears up by then.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

CashhhEW!!!!!



Jason and I were eating some delicious cashews last night with some delicious white wine he got from work watching the delicious Cubs game when I had a revelation in two parts.

Part One: "I like cashews more than any nut."

Part Two: "Is there such a thing as cashew butter? Like peanut butter except with cashews?????"

Jason immediately jumped up and got online. We had our answer. It does exist and we are planning to order a few different types on payday. For a brief second I think we both thought that we were about to be millionaires. Cashew Butter millionaires. Alas, many have already beat us to the punch.

We also made the decision to try and say "CASHEW!" next time we sneezed. We both are in agreement that sneezes almost sound like that anyway.

I sneezed in the middle of the night without remembering this new deal and Jason said..."CASHEW!!! CASHEW!!!!!!! bless you." and went back to sleep.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Doll Head

I'm pretty busy at work today, but wanted to share some recent awesome oddness. My friend Tim and I went to a website launch party on Tuesday night. He works with my husband at the restaurant and needed a "plus guest". We had a ball and met some fun people. Afterward we went to his apt. for a night cap and he gave me the Hair Styling Head. He just had it lying around and didn't want it. I did want it. I've always wanted one of these in fact. I can't wait to play with it if I can ever bring myself to take it out of the box. I just know I'll tramp her up too much and regret it. That's what always happens.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Thank GOD!


J gets home tonight from his 10 day Italy trip and it couldn't be a moment too soon. I am about to jump out of my skin knowing that he'll finally be home tonight with stories and pictures and Italian wine. The cats and I missed him terribly to say the very least.

PS - even though not the most flattering of all our wedding pics, the above is one of my favorites. Mostly because we were pretending to cut the cake because the staff had cut it without us due to a weird misunderstanding I guess. We didn't want to miss the moment so the two of us had a friend come into the kitchen with us and the camera and we staged a sad little cutting even though the whole cake had already been eaten without us. Hilarious. I remember that we were laughing hysterically during this very photo.

Monday, April 03, 2006

For those of you that know my husbo....I'm proud to tell everyone that he passed his first level of the master sommelier training two weeks ago. THIS week he's in Italy for the first time at some big wine festival with some big wine guy having some big fun wine time, no doubt. He 100% deserves it and will love it there. I've been once myself and it's pretty lovely. I'm so happy for him....but selfishly I can't WAIT until he gets home. It's only been two days (out of ten) and I'm already missing him like a crazy person. I had a dream last night that he was back and had bought me a present, but the second I went to open it, Calaban, our HUGE male tabbycat put his paw on my head and it scared me awake. In my half awake/half asleep state of mind I decided to decide that the gift in the box was a tiny wooden carving of a pizza that said "Ciao!". I must say that now that I'm fully awake, I hope to GOD that's not what he gets me. In dreams or otherwise. Although it would be hysterically freaky if that gift existed. Maybe I do hope I get that......for hilarity's sake.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Shutting Down.....


One of my best friend's (pictured above with her little sister) is on her way to say good-bye to her grandpa this weekend. He has Alzheimer's and she got the call from home this morning saying the doctor's said he was starting to shut down pretty rapidly now and would probably pass sometime in the next couple days.
So as I type she is at the beginning of his end.
Everytime I think about the situation and her I feel weird in my stomach and get burny eyes only because I imagine the good-byes are going to be brutal. Still..what an important thing to do if you have the chance, which they do.
She's a rock so I know she'll be there for everyone and they'll be there for her, but I still feel a million miles away and useless which is MY hang up, of course. I think I'll go and keep her kitties company this weekend while she's away.
ugh...poor Anners and family.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Someone call a scientist!

Because I think I'm onto something here. It is no secret that I am VERY challenged in the numeric arts. Always have been most certainly always will be. That's not me selling myself short either...it's just true. I'm great at other stuff like....umm.....getting to work on time....and...enjoying nice weather.....etc.
But I digress.
I've discovered that when I am forced to deal with math that I become PHYSICALLY tired at the end of that particular day. At my last job I had to do TONS of really difficult accounting stuff that I didn't understand, and I was ALWAYS exhausted.
Now at my new and great job I have to do some very light, but still kind of tough, budgeting work and sure as long division makes me car sick....that little bit of numbering made me sleep like the dead the past two nights.
So here's what I'm wondering. Is the ONE thing in life I loath the most the key to helping me finally get some good sleep, something I LOVE the most?
I understand if you'd like to take a minute and let this all soak in. It's a lot to absorb on a Wednesday afternoon. Get yourself a glass of water and sit a spell. It's okay. My genius makes me dizzy as well.

There....feeling better? Good. Because here's my plan. I'm going to try to do some hard math in my head tonight an hour before bed and see if x=y or all the sides of the triangle divide by...3 or whatever. Dangerous? Definitly. But it JUST might be crazy enough to work........

If my plan is victorious the irony will be delish.

There'll be a new score in town, so called Math.

Numbers = 1
Crescent = 1

which equals.....hold on.....let me get my calculator......

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

ROAR!!!!!!



CRESCENT ANNOYED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! (SMASH DESK!!!!) HATE WORKING WITH NUMBERS!!!!!! TOO HARD!!!!! (KICK GARBAGE CAN!!!!) GRUMBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY EVERYONE UP IN GRILL TODAY!!!!!! (PUNCH WALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) WANT TO GO HOME AND WATCH TV WITH CATS!!!!!!

I am so cranky right now and I was trying to figure out who or where to vent some of my toxins....but then I realized none of the things that are annoying me have enough valuable content to warrant dumping them on friends and family. Then I remembered my sweet little blog. She'll love me no matter HOW crabariffic I am. See...I already feel better.

I guess I wasn't even all that mad now that I think about it. I only get really mad about once a decade so maybe that was it for the two thousand oughts. Cool.

Back to work. tra la la.....