Reveiws

*




So.

I have free time in the evenings and a job that fairly supports me. (now I just need to lower my rent a scootch. Just a scootch, y'all. Hee. Ssssscootch.)

I have unlimited talent amongst my friends.

I like watching shows alone, but am bored out of my mind with the typical Harold these days.

I want to flesh out my writing portfolio and have written proof that I write like super awesome. (<--This last sentence doesn't count.)

So I'm following through on plans I made a few years ago to try and see all the low-or-no rent shows in Chicago. The shows involving my friends and former classmates and pretty much anyone who drops me an email (and free ticket, hint hint). I'll write reviews and commentary, and share the wealth with anyone who wants feedback/recommendations/early warning.

Do I have a widely respected opinion? Will this process exhaust and eventually snuff me? Wait and see, gentle reader, wait and see.






*a disturbingly accurate likeness of the IO Midnight Jam audience. Hmm.

Missed Connection

To the young gentlemen who throw their glass bottles on the grass in my neighborhood-

I got a huge bump on my head this weekend,shown poorly photographed above. I'm guessing, considering you guys are huge, HUGE assholes, that it truly belongs to you.

Next time I'm walking my dog, pulling him out of piles of glass every ten feet, you FUCKS, feel free to ask for a replacement head wound. I'll be happy to give you one.

~Jady

Lazy Thursday.

More later, just wanted to update, and point out that I do NOT invest in strollers or other craaaazy items for my pup. Baby though he is, my lil' man walks on a leash...as ALL children should.

Tire the Un-tire-able

How do you tucker out a puppy? Bring him to a park. Watch the kids on the playground watching him. Let them use your ball-throwing stick and run after him. Let them continue this for, like, ever.

Watch you pup, your TIRELESS pup, run, then jog, then finally trot slowly after these inhuman creatures and fetch the ball time and time and time again. Watch your pup take the ball and attempt to lay atop it, to stop the endless FETCHING. Laugh.

Corms, you're tired, probably close to puppy-death. But I know this experience will only make you stronger. This one's for you....

Perspective

When facing a crisis, cry often, clean your apartment, curl your hair, do laundry, walk the dog five times a day, and pull up a lawn chair and break out the popcorn, because the people you know are going to separate themselves into groups based on helpfulness and genuine care.

So to some of my friends, thank you so much. I'm not surprised that you're sweet and helpful and amazing, but I'm proud to have you in my corner. You know who you are.

To the majority, what the fuck. That is all.

And to a chosen few...your actions are appalling and scary. May you never be in a situation where you have close contact with a weaker, less self-assured girl. Thank you for being yourself, so I know who to avoid in the future. Maybe you haven't been terrible. But you've been bad enough to shake my optimism in people. Bad enough to make me reconsider being nice. Well done.

One Year

on April 11th, 2007, Cormac McCarthy Brooks came into my life. He was the last pup in a litter of chow-chows, he'd come out a short-haired, teeny mutant, and the family who owned his parents were giving him to the pound. Fuck no, I said, and scooped him away into my heart.

A year later, he's cuter and awesomer than ever. He's gotten over his fear of the LAKE, but still hates thunder. He protects me from scary people on the street...and drags me over to meet non-scary people on the street. He's clever and sweet and more optimisitic than his mommy. I love my Corms, my weaselface, my pupcake.


in fact, he inspired this:

Proxychicago.etsy.com

so i'm pretty happy. Gonna go snuggle now.

oh, and I made us breakfast today (gaaaaaaaaaaaay):

Sunlight this morning, even when my pup was stabbing my face with his cold, cold nose. (read: ATeeeeenshun, PLZ MAAAAHM!!!!! Throwdaballzforme!)






Cold medicine. Fuuuuuuuuck Yeah.




Refreshing





Delicious.







Tasty.

Thank you, components of a good morning. Well done!!!

Info.

846 w. Montrose Apt #102
Chicago, IL, 60613

favorite colors: (to wear) grey, red, green, earthy. (to have) pink, purple, green

size: shoe 8.5, pants 8, shirt m/l, shame NONE.

Birthday preferences: Warm Weather and a happy pup, a cute dress to wear to the wedding Kendra's taking me to, and the health to enjoy the day. Freckles will occur of their own accord.


*if you feel the need to use my personal info to stalk me/send weird scary shit...I love those genetically altered black roses, and you'll be fighting a lot of hobos for space in the windows across the street. Get your rabies shot and good luck!

Birthday List 08

Well, it's a mere 18 days to my 23rd year, and I'm making a list. Not because I expect a avalanche of gifts from people grateful to read my clever and refreshing blog (surPRISE me, people. Prove me wrong. with THINGS and STUFF and also ITEMS.)But also because it's fun to think what I might actually buy for myself if I lived above the poverty line.

1.There Will Be Blood DVD

What an incredible film. I didn't think people made ANYTHING this well anymore. Bonus points if you bundle it with a blender so I can have milkshakes as I watch.




2. Dance Dance Revolution (dreamcast edition)



Pad gave me the Pad (gross) and the dreamcast, now I just need the music...the music and the rhythm of my heart, y'all.

3. Cutethings!!!!

some good websites to scour...

http://www.modcloth.com/

http://www.kikkerlandshop.com/

http://hivemodern.com/

4. Cormac Accesories

Anything for my pup will make YOU look good. I promise.

5. Gift Certif.

for Target, Joanne's fabric, and Costco. I know i'm boring, but they're damn useful places to go.

Ya Give Me Fever

Without disrespecting privacy, I'll just say that Alan and I broke up this weekend. Apparently he had a lot of issues that weren't likely to be resolved, so he took the mature route: lecturing me at midnight while I'm so sick I can barely sit, storming out, and calling the next day to end the relationship while proclaiming that he never wanted to see/hear from/whatever me again. Goodbye forEVER, was the message, if I recall correctly.

Of course, it's possible that I don't remember the situation perfectly. Considering I was throwing up the entire night before and had a fever of 101.5 when he called the next day. Maybe, just MAYBE, it wasn't the best time for me.

Really, when it comes down to brass tacks (tax?), I've been having a very very stressful few weeks. I know he has too, but if this is the greatest manners he can muster, it's a DAMN good thing I found this out now.

In any case, I'm at work, applying for other jobs under the radar, and I still have this damn fever. Or the remnants. Or maybe I'm still pissed. In any case, there is IS a certain heat (thanks for the literal translation of my plea, Lord) surrounding my head. I suggest no-one fuck with me today.

Just Give me Heat!!!!

You know, stressed as I am about finding a new job, and upset as I am about having my life all shaken up again, it'd feel O FUCKING K to me, if only I could walk around outside in the warm weather.

There is no warm weather.

God, come on. You've taken my sister, my sanity, and my security. Give me the fuckin' dog beach.