My Job is BOOOOORING and so are You!

So much so that I'm sssssssssssssssnooooooooooooooooring!

(About the 'you' being boring part, it might not be true, or maybe it is. If so, you should really try to work on this. Maybe that's why we haven't hung out in a while. Work on your excitement level. Thanks.)

Anyway, here's some really great music to make you less boring/more tolerable to be around.

These guys, The War on Drugs, have got it! I dig their jingle-jangle rockstar sound, and they are waaaaaay more fun than the actual War on Drugs which, no no, don't even get me started on that.

Have fun!

OFFICE JOBS!

Funny news. So, there's this woman at my work, H____, but my friends and I call her "Popcorn." Do let me explain! So, it's the first day of work on the floor, after training. It's Friday. People are freakin' out, riding motorized scooters/segways and shooting Nerf guns all over. I'm thinking, This is one hell-of-a crazy place. Everybody's workin' for the weekend! It's true! Anyway, so these Nerf darts are flying and zooming all over the office, and all of a sudden there's a shriek, followed by a "WHAT THE FUCK?!" and an "Alright! Who hit my FUCKING ear?! That FUCKING hurt!!" Repeat, repeat and repeat the unnecessary loud vulgarities. Well, if you didn't guess. Someone hit H_____ Popcorn in the ear with a Nerf dart. People are tittering, whispering and giggling in their cubes around the floor. I'm shocked. Remember, it's my first-ish day with these people. I'm thinking, What the hell is wrong with my co-workers? A few minutes after the incident I have to ask my team lead a question and I mention this woman's outburst. She says, "Oh yeah, her" knowingly. Apparently this H_____ Popcorn is a troublemaker. Alright, so comes in the Popcorn part. Next Monday,one of my buddies, TJ, was recounting the story to someone who was OOO (out-of-office) Friday and he didn't want to keep sayin' "fuck" because he wasn't sure about this co-workers vulgarities tolerance so he implanted "Popcorn" to fill, thus Ms. H____ became "Popcorn" -- for that reason, and also I didn't care to know her real name which would result in making her seem human.


Fast forward to yesterday. I drank a lot of coffee so naturally, I needed to relieve myself. I walk into the bathroom startled to find that I woke Popcorn from her little cat nap on the couch. She jolts up and groggily rubs her eyes. Apparently she'd been there for a while because her hair was matted down and she seemed discombobulated. I just think, What a weirdo, and go about my business. Then, this morning, Amber comes up to me and she says, "Did you happen to see H_____ sleeping on the couch in the bathroom yesterday?" And I said, "Yeah! That was weird." And Amber said, "Yeah, I know, right? She's fired!" And I said, "What!? No way!" and she said, "She's done it at least two times before." And I said, "That's crazy!" And Amber said, "You know what else is crazy?"And then she proceeded to tell me a story about when she first started here. Everyone was going through training together, and in order to get to know each other better, each employee was asked to share a funny/embarrassing story. So everyone's talking about their puppies, or families, or vacations they took or whatever, and it comes to be Popcorn's turn. Can you guess what she said? Well, here. Do you remember those Tylenol killings back in the 80s? Popcorn stated she dated one of the suspected men. But he didn't do it! He didn't kill anybody with Tylenol, he only killed the guy who turned him in. WHAT?!?! What?!? Excuse me?!? She's either lying or telling the truth, but both make me scratch my head searching for a reason to share. Did this company not have an interview/screening process in the beginning before it hired anyone?! They should've fired her right then and there if you ask me! But then again, I'm a little sad to see her gone. She was a mysterious, strangely fascinating creature. Like a car pile-up wreck, everyday another car or semi would smash into the already huge pile of debris and disbelief. Another thing bizarre, I guess she would sometimes stay in the office past midnight (the cleaning lady told my cube mate)... don't ask me why or what she did. I don't know and I don't care to. Hmm. So, how about that?!

Oh, and let me also mention that this is the woman who spends most of her days on the telephone, taking personal calls. These are usually from her 53-year-old boyfriend who is a recovering alcoholic that drinks a 1/5th of vodka a day. I'm not judging. I'm just sayin'. They are also very loud, as if she wants everyone in the office to hear her... and she sounds like my step grandmother, which I didn't enjoy. Oh wow! I just remembered, one day her phone rang and it was a personal call from her boyfriend Chuck, or something, I was rushing to get my earphones in and before I slipped them in, I heard her mention something about wet dreams being romantic. I threw up in my mouth a little. This woman!

Kevin Barnes, how do you read my soul?

Eros' Entropic Tundra -- Of Montreal

All I ever get is sad love
while watching all my friends find their happy love
I don't understand why I should be without love

All I ever get is sad love
always falling for the ones who feel nothing for me
Sometimes I think I should just forget about love

I was walking with my parents
through St. Peter's park
When I saw a young couple with a child
They were all holding hands and smiling
They seemed very nice, seemed to have a nice life

All I ever get is sad love
feeling incomplete and below being loved
I don't know why it has been so hard to find love

All I ever get is sad love
the unrequited kind is all I have procured
And it was nothing at all
like what I've heard about love

Without love life has no great reward
leaving us damaged or feeling so bored
Devoid of memories nothing to record
Wishing the ones that we adore loved us more

BANANAS!

Okay, so while I did blast my step-gma a bit this morning, she has had her shining moments. Such as when I was a little girl of 3 and would come up to Chi City to visit my Dad (and step mom) and whenever he made me sad by snapping (often) she would sing:

Katie likes bananas, just like a monkey should.
Katie likes bananas because they taste so good.
Katie Bear would like to say,
Nana nana, all the day.
Katie likes bananas just like a monkey should!

If we're real life friends/acquaintances/lovers ask me to sing the song in your name and I will, gladly, with a smile.

***Everyone's name gets an "ie"/"y" ending. It's just the song. You call me "Katie" in real life and I'll cut you. The name's Kate. Thanks. I'm not yellin', I'm just sayin'. Y'know? Just so y'know. Y'know?!

Pitchfork: The Devil's Music

Wow! So, I'm very excited that Pitchfork is this weekend! It's going to be the best! I'm really looking forward to it, especially since I've recently discovered that I enjoy many of the acts that are going to be taking over the stages in Union Park! AND! Since I'll be enjoying it with my bestest gal pal, Alli Doll!! She's flying all the way in from NYC just to see me (and Pitchfork, and Chicago)!!!

Such acts include, Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver (he wears a fanny pack! my kind of man), M. Ward, and Vampire Weekend (who I used to hate, mainly because I heard them once and thought, hmmm. I think I like these guys, let me give it another try, and then everybody liked them and talked about how great they were and how they're the best band in all the history of music and so I decided that I didn't like them any more because I didn't want to be like everyone else, but it ended up taking a lot of energy trying to avoid them, so I caved and bee-bopped to their songs). Also, I'm really excited to see The Apples in Stereo, Spoon, and DUH! PUBLIC ENEMY!!! Also, Ghostface and Raekwon should be awesome!

I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy every act that I see. Pitchfork seems to have a rigorous definition for great music. Also, for those of you cats that aren't able to attend the weekend's festivities, there's a free preview at the Jay Pritzker Pavilion, Thursday, July 17th... read more here.

This playlist looks pretty great! Just to check it out.

Everybody's Working for the Wee-Wee-Weekend!

I bought new running shoes on Friday. I went to Fleet Feet Sports in Piper's Alley. I've never bought running shoes from them before. I waited for 20 minutes, holding a race bib with a "next customer" number on it. I wandered around the store, checking out shoes, triathlon gear (that's just crazy, though one day I would like to participate in one - give me 10 years, or maybe before my 30th year), and watching the general goings on about me while I waited.

I took the bus down North Avenue and then walked down Damen, after depositing a work check in the bank (I really need to get direct deposit -- save the trees, y'know?). Then, I got home and I thought, "Oh man. I really need to call Judy." (My step grandmother who lives in Evanston) So, I did. I expected the conversation to last 5-10 minutes. How silly I was! The conversation lasted about 45 minutes, with the first good-bye said at 30. My mother does the same thing, but I enjoy talking to my mother, for the most part, as she's super silly and says ridiculous things most of the time. Okay, okay. It was nice to catch up with Judy, but at the same time I couldn't help but think of her mean streaks of the past, and I was thinking about how I needed to get going on my run because I had plans to meet friends later in the evening.

This is boring stuff... I went running (IN MY NEW SHOES!), ate a slow dinner, drank some wine, and watched The Soup, then I got ready and went over to my friend's house and hung out outside until it started stormin', then we went inside to laugh, talk, and watch snippets of this Mystery Science Theater 3000 movie, Overdrawn at the Memory Bank with Raul Julia - wasn't really paying attention... but it seemed awful(ly confusing - there was a part where monkeys and giraffes were stumbling drunk around the Sahara). Then I went home and slept.

Saturday I did nothing productive... really, and it was incredible!! Laundry (folded it Sunday), guitar, laziness, Baby's Day Out (sooooo good 2nd time around, you might wish I was kidding, but I'm not, and excellently cast!), Apocalypto (which I didn't love or hate... and the way it was shot reminded me of a PBS special, I kept waiting for a British narrator to describe what was going on when I couldn't read the white subtitles), and sleep.

SUNDAY! I woke up and went for a run, supposed to be 14, but I'm hoping I got closer to 15 as I ran for 2 and 1/2 hours. Oh man, and I definitely should've applied the Vaseline more liberally because I got some chaffage on my underarms (not as bad as this guy). I tried to wish away the pain as I was running. Occasionally it worked and I would have 10-15 minutes of endorphins numbing out the discomfort, then it would strike back with full force. I wasn't the happiest. I had to keep going, I was miles away from home and without my CTA pass. As I ran I thought about the chaffage, I couldn't help myself. I would try to think about anything else; about the old man who was trying to cross the path with his dog and cursed the bikers for riding too fast, about the time Alli and Lisa (two of my best childhood friends) came to visit me over Easter weekend when I was a freshman at DePaul and we took pictures on the pier, and of course, as always, pining after the sweaty men running in front of me until they were out of sight, but it kept going back to the chaffing. And the thought of chaffing kept taking me back to staggering around the finish line after my first marathon. While I was searching for Alli, I walked past a marathoner man and his supportive wife. She gave him a water bottle and a banana and asked him how it went. He said it went well, and that he feels pretty good. Then she said, Oh my! You're bleeding. He said, what? And then I noticed that he had two bloody nipple circles. He said, well, what do you know! That's bad news bears right there! I couldn't imagine how he didn't feel that happening! I was disturbed, and feeling very sore. I took an ice bath, but I'm still walking around like a mummy today, oohing and ahhhing on the stairs. I wish I had a little child or a midget to sit under my chair and massage my calves right now and wiggle my toes and rub aloe vera on my shoulders (they could sit on the chair's arms for that).

I made it home. Showered and biked over to look at an apartment. No, no, no, no! Oh, it was just awful! "Studio-style" for $650. Horribly small with a slanted floor. The woman showing me (the landlord's daughter) mentioned the utilities weren't that expensive. She said all I had to pay for was gas and electricity. She said that they paid for the water. I raised my eyebrow, thinking, really? You pay for the water? I'm pretty sure the city pays for the water, which I'm sure is actually us paying the city in taxes, so the we all pay for water. So, while yes, I supposed you pay for the water, I do, too. Needless to say, I'm not going to live there. On my way home I really hoped that I would find a nice place to live with an affordable rent, in the same neighborhood. That's the clincher right there. I have a feeling it's not going to work out that way and it makes me very, very, very sad. I don't like moving. Moving during childhood has scarred me into believing that life-altering/shattering times are just beginning and this often results in me crying myself to sleep.

On a happier note, I also thought it would be pretty funny to write little stories about my life after spending 1 year in the places that I could potentially live in. Like living in this place for example, I'm fairly confident that my Spanish comprehension would increase ten-fold. And my living standards would be significantly lowered.

What else happened? I went to the grocery store and made some delicious eggs with sauteed spinach dusted with cumin, thyme, Italian seasoning, minced garlic and onion salt for dinner. Then I watched the Simpsons, read a little, and went to bed at 9:30. Call me grandma, and I'll punch you in the face. I was tired.