Author Archives: carlieblissirwin

Another conversation with my future baby

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If you’ve been reading my blog from its inception, first of all, thanks! Second of all, you might remember the short conversation I conjured in my mind with my future baby in my very first post.

Well that brief “interaction” didn’t go so well, so I thought I’d give Future Baby (who will henceforth be referred to as FB) another chance.

If I was to have a preconceptual encounter with the little one today (I know this is impossible, but just go with it), this is how I imagine it would go (and yes, he/she already has the verbal capabilities of an adult with a college education. I have high expectations):

ME: Hey, FB.

FB: Waaaaazzzzz uuuup??

Ok, stop! Already, my future baby is either drunk or high and has the gruff, gravelly voice of a 40-year-old chain smoker. Why am I picturing Baby Herman from Roger Rabbit??

I need to regroup and re-imagine this scenario. Give me a second. Ok, let’s try this again.

ME: Hi cute little baby with big innocent eyes, round chubby cheeks and an adorable smile! (Imagery is a lot easier if you just spell it out for yourself.)

FB: Hi Future Mom! I can’t wait to meet you and be molded into the kind, successful, attractive person you want me to be!

ME: Aww, thanks FB! I love that you’re already trying to suck up to me before you’re even conceived.

FB: I just want to make you happy!

Ahh, if only that’s how being a parent really goes…

ME: Ok, enough with the brown-nosing, shorty. Let’s get down to brass tacks. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just want to let you know that I’m still not quite ready to make you yet.

FB: But why? I promise I’ll start sleeping through the night right away, practically potty train myself and be all around developmentally advanced!

ME: Hmm, that’s a tempting promise FB, but I have to pass. The truth is, I’m just not mommy material yet.

FB: Well what the hell is wrong with you?

ME: Hey, watch the attitude, young pre-fetus thing! Last week, I watched Real Housewife of New Jersey Teresa screaming and crying and panicking as she received an epidural and THEN she was forced to give birth, which was so bad they wouldn’t even show it! All you could see was the closed door to her room, but you could hear the sounds, and I swear I think they were disemboweling her using some sort of medieval torture device. And then the other night I happened upon an episode of I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant on TLC in which a woman (who didn’t know she was pregnant) went to the hospital experiencing the worst pain of her life and then the baby came out and fell on her shoe! And it was GROSS. So if it’s ok with you, FB, I’m just going to wait until I really really want you in my life before I risk getting placenta on my Steve Maddens. (I wanted to say Manolos, but that would be misleading – sorry kid, there will be no trust fund waiting for you.) Also, I might add that I caught the end of I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant because I was waiting for a new episode of Toddlers & Tiaras to come on. I might as well slap an “UNFIT FUTURE MOTHER” sign on my forehead!!

FB: Yikes. You sure are neurotic. But in a loveable sort of way.

ME: Thanks. Don’t worry, when you finally become a real human life, I will teach you my ways.

FB: That’s what I’m afraid of.

ME: You and me both.

FB: So there is still no chance of me being created anytime soon?

ME: If all goes according to plan, then no. But I will say that I’ve seen a few babies recently who I actually thought were cute…or at least had potential. So I guess that’s promising. Here’s a tip: the cuter you are, the easier it will be for me to like you. I’m just saying…

FB: No problem, of course I’ll be cute. Look at who my parents are! <wink>

ME: Oh FB, you are a delight! I’m glad we had this talk.

FB: Me too. But what’s with all of these reality shows featuring horrifying childbirth scenes? I think it’s becoming detrimental to my existence.

ME: Good question, you’ll have to take that up with Bravo, E!, and TLC. It’s out of my control at this point. It seems I’m compelled to watch any reality show involving housewives, celebrities, or spoiled rich girls on either coast. Sorry, FB, your future mother is an addict.

FB: Yes, it’s very clear that you need help.

ME: Well it’s been real FB, but I gotta run. Maybe I’ll see you in a couple years.

FB: Ok, I’ll just be here…waiting to exist…

ME: Have fun with that. Peace out, FB!

FB: I think I’m already experiencing abandonment issues.

I went to San Antonio and all I got was this lousy cold.

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Sorry about the negative title of this blog post. I did, in fact, get a lousy cold or some other type of ailment that makes me feel like I swallowed sand paper and my head is full of wet sponges and the mere act of picking up my purse is likely to make me collapse from exhaustion.

I’m blaming the Alamo. Or the plane that brought me back from the Alamo last Monday and the sick person riding on it with me who probably needs to be reminded to wash his/her hands more often.

So here I am, with some exotic Southwestern Tex-Mex illness (sounds like it would go well with chips and salsa and a splash of lime if it weren’t for the illness part), and I just realized that I promised I would tell you about our trip to San Antonio. Well I’m not one to make empty promises.

Let’s hearken back to the good ol’ days of one week and three days ago when Will and I arrived in lovely San Antonio and before I was struggling to free myself from the death grip of the Ol’ Western Texas Black Plague.

First of all, the best thing about this trip was that we got to spend three solid days with our good friends Sarah and Anthony! Shout out to the Florentines! Sarah and Anthony live in Del Rio (scenic backdrop for the movie No Country for Old Men. If you’ve seen the movie, you know that I am using the word scenic loosely), where Anthony is an instructor pilot in the Air Force. It was only a couple years ago that he was deployed in Iraq running dangerous intelligence missions while I was comforting Sarah back in St. Louis by graciously escorting her to every wine bar and nail salon in the area. (Hey, when your man is at war on the other side of the world, alcohol and manicures are entirely necessary, and I was happy to oblige.)

What better way to spend Memorial Day weekend than with a veteran!? Thanks to Anthony and all of the other military people who are way less wussy than me!

Anyway, our trip with Sarah and Anthony can be summed up as follows:

Check into the Westin River Walk – great view of the parking garage!

Take a stroll down the River Walk (a really fun place to hang out with friends if you’ve never been there).

Zero in on the Mexican restaurant that looks like it has the best margaritas. Target acquired!

…3 pitchers later…let’s go play cards!

Will, Sarah and Anthony attempt to teach me how to play Euchre while I demonstrate my limited mental capacity after drinking frozen margaritas for 2 hours (not sure if it was the brain freeze or alcohol that was the problem).

Head to this bar:

We aren’t ones to ignore signs, and we did as we were told.

Bed.

Wake up. At 10:30 am.

I suppress my jealousy as Sarah and Anthony use their awesome iPhone apps to find a place to go to breakfast. My Blackberry Yelp! app didn’t stand a chance.

IHOP it is.

We get there, and apparently, IHOP it isn’t. It’s an IHOP Café – not the same thing. The more you learn…

Hit the pool. And the pool bar.

5 hours later…shower.

Dinner.

Cards.

Bed.

Repeat.

Ok, that was a really condensed summary, but I’ll just say this – it was a great time! I think we all left with a newfound appreciation for the card game “Golf” and a deepening suspicion for all servers named Joshua (inside joke alert!).

Due to the evil San Antonio Fajita Fever and lack of oxygen flow to my brain, I tire easily. Hence, these photos can probably sum up the trip better than my words right now.

And don’t forget the Alamo! Or remember it! Whatever. Where’s the Dayquil?

Summertime, summertime, sum-sum-summertime

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Hope everyone had a good Memorial Day! If you’re like me, you spent the weekend drinking margaritas, hanging out by the pool and strolling along the River Walk in San Antonio, TX. (I’m guessing you’re not like me, but if that really is what you did – weird! It was fun, wasn’t it?)

I’ll tell you everything you ever wanted to know about the Alamo, the IHOP Café we visited (be warned: it’s NOT a real IHOP!), and the pool bar menu at the Westin once I’m motivated to upload my pictures. But for now, we have this:

Oldies.

To me, nothing says summer like the musical notes of the upbeat classic golden oldies. Maybe it’s because the local Wheaton pool used to continuously blast the now defunct oldies station when I was a kid. (R.I.P. Oldies 104.3 with Dick Biondi. When I heard you went off the air, a little piece of my soul died.) Or maybe it’s because so many of my favorite summertime movies (Stand By Me, American Graffiti, Now and Then) are set to the nostalgic background of some great doo-wop hits. Whatever the reason, when I hear the high-pitched crooning of the Beach Boys or the engine revving and beginning notes of Leader of the Pack, I think summer.

So, since this past weekend we were unofficially thrust into the throws of the year’s sunniest season, I decided to make you a playlist of my favorite oldies that remind me of summer for all the road trips, poolside lounging and BBQs we have ahead of us in the coming months. You’re welcome.

Also, I’m still recovering from all of the relaxing (read: drinking) I did last weekend. My brain is fried, so making a simple list is about all that I am mentally capable of right now. Here we go:

1.  Don’t Worry Baby (or pretty much the whole greatest hits CD) – The Beach Boys

2. Sugar, Sugar – The Archies

3. Running on Empty – Jackson Browne (great for road trips!)

4. Come Go With Me – The Del Vikings

5. Crimson and Clover – Tommy James & the Shondells

6. Why Do Fools Fall in Love – Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers

7. Up on the Roof – The Drifters

8. Turn! Turn! Turn! – The Byrds

9. Hot Fun in the Summertime – Sly & the Family Stone

10. Runaround Sue – Dion

11. The Little Old Lady from Pasadena – Jan & Dean

12. Up Around the Bend – Creedence Clearwater Revival

13. Leader of the Pack – The Shangri-la’s

14. I Wonder What She’s Doing Tonite – Boyce & Hart

15. I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch) – The Four Tops

So crank these tunes for a good time this summer! Unless you don’t like oldies, in which case you probably stopped reading this post awhile ago. Also I’m just going to go ahead and call you un-American since you’re not reading this anyway. So there. You were just schooled in passive-aggressiveness. BAM.

Baby bucket list

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So I think I’ve made it clear on this blog that sometime in the future, Will and I would like to have kids (no more than two – please, I’m not a machine). I’ve also made it clear that I am currently extremely unprepared for this event.

If things go according to plan (which they probably won’t – I have a feeling that I’m jinxing myself by writing this blog and I will either get an early “surprise” or end up dealing with fertility issues, but hey, that’s just more blog material, right?), I have about two years to prepare myself for mommydom (or mommydoom, depending on how you look at it).

In the grand scheme of things, two years is NOT a long time. There are a ton of things I want to do and accomplish before I start having to deal with morning sickness, a rapidly expanding mid-section, and ultimately a small, helpless person who takes up residence in my house and won’t leave.

The clock is ticking, and my subsequent neuroticism is increasing by the minute. So, to focus myself, I’ve come up with this: The Baby Bucket List.

This is a list of things I want to do before I am with child. Hopefully I’ll be able to cross all of these things off in the next two years, and that would be great because 1) I love crossing things off of lists (yes, I’m one of those people); and 2) I will be more fulfilled and happy as a person in general.

CARLIE’S BABY BUCKET LIST

1. Go on a vacation to Europe. Right now, I’m thinking Italy…

2. Do more freelance writing – enough so that I could possibly make a living from it.

3. Buy a house/condo. This one in Chicago looks perfect. Who wants to chip in?

4. Get six-pack abs. Well, I’ll settle on a four-pack. Or maybe just flat with no “pooch.” I’m not interested in taking steroids or getting all crazy-Madonna-like muscle-y.

5. Find dopplegangers of all of my good friends. Ok, this one isn’t for real – just a shout-out to those of you who watch How I Met Your Mother. What is UP!?

6. Learn to cook. Or at least figure out some really good, healthy ways to use my microwave.

7. Watch the entire series of LOST on Netflix. See previous post.

8. Visit every rooftop bar in both St. Louis and Chicago. I love being outside. I love great views. I love drinking. I love not having a baby/child with me while I do it.

9. Go on a vacation to an all-inclusive resort. We’ve done this before and it was so great, I need to do it again before Disneyland is included in our list of possible vacation destinations.

10. Host a dinner party. This one is for Will. For some reason, he really wants to do this. I said as long as he cooks and makes his homemade sangria, I can get all Martha Stewart-y for a night.

11. Host a real party. Will and I have been married for almost 3 years now and have never had a big party with lots of people that gets somewhat out-of-hand. The window on this one is rapidly closing now that our friends are getting pregnant, so maybe I’ll get to cross this off the list soon.

12. Read at least 15 books. That’s 7.5 per year. As long as our DVR stays broken, I’ll be off to a good start. (Did I tell you our DVR is broken?? We are in full crisis mode.)

13. Go on a loooong road trip. Not one of those 5-hour dealies, like the St. Louis to Chicago trip we do every other weekend.

14. Drink a bottle of really expensive champagne. Like over $100. Maybe I’ll share some with Will.

15. Run a 10k. I know this doesn’t seem like much to all of you marathoners out there, but I hate running. I’ve run a million 5ks without training for them, and I could probably do a 10k, but actually making myself sign up for one is a different story. I just want to do it once and then never again.

16. Start doing yoga. I’m a little intimidated by all those stretchy people in their cute stretchy pants, but maybe I’ll become one…or at least improve upon my plywood-like flexibility.

Ok, that’s it for now, but this list is a work in progress. I’ll probably be adding to it as I think of more things I want to do.

So what do you think? Can you help me accomplish any of this? Anything missing that you think I should add? Why is having a new to-do list that probably won’t go away for a couple of years (if ever) totally stressing me out right now? I need help.

You’re in luck…it’s Brain Lottery #2!

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I’m really glad I came up with this “Brain Lottery” concept. It strings together my unrelated, incoherent, random thoughts of the moment and makes them seem a little less unrelated, incoherent and random. Thus, I come across as slightly less scatterbrained and insane, and hopefully you won’t be afraid of me and my blog.

Or you will just keep reading because we all know it’s hard to turn away from a trainwreck. Either way, I’ll take it!

Here are some of the lottery ball-like thoughts that are currently ricocheting off the walls of my fragile psyche:

1. Ok I get that LOST was awesome and it blew your mind and was a little more intellectually stimulating than, say, America’s Next Top Model and now it’s over and there’s a hole in your life where curious musings about some mysterious “hatch” used to be. BUT CAN EVERYONE PLEASE STOP TALKING ABOUT IT ALREADY? This is purely a selfish request. It’s my fault I stopped watching the show half-way through the very first season, I know. But I feel like we’re all in 2nd grade and everyone except for me got invited to this totally awesome birthday party at a rich kid’s house where they had a jumpy house and a petting zoo. And now everyone is talking about it and I’m all like “hey, it’s cool, I had better things to do anyway” but really I’m jealous and I feel really left out, ok? I felt the same way after the Grey’s Anatomy season finale aired last week. I had to stop watching that show when Christina got impaled by a falling icicle – I’m sorry. There was just too much blood and ridiculousness going on. It was like a combination of E.R. and Kill Bill, and I did not sign up for that. Whatever. I’ll take my Real Housewives and Bachelorette (season premiere is tonight people!!) and go sulk in the corner.

2. Since that first random thought was a bit lengthy, I feel like this one should be really short.

3. One conflict that I’ve had to deal with my entire life is that I love trail mix but I hate raisins. FACT: There are always raisins in trail mix. FACT: I’m too lazy to make my own trail mix. I discovered mymixednuts.com and suddenly I was freed from the reign of terror imposed by all those unwelcome raisins! I spent $15 to design my own trail mix using carefully chosen ingredients. OF COURSE Reese’s Pieces (the best bite-sized treat with a hard candy shell in the world) was one of them. I received my trail mix (named Crazy Crunchy Cool. By me.) in the mail last week and proceeded to pick out all of the Reese’s Pieces. (And also the dried pineapple – that’s good stuff!) So now I have a bag full of almonds and coconut shavings. Blah. Trail mix, we’re done. (Reese’s Pieces – call me!)

4. When people see me putting gas in my car, they probably think I’m super prissy and dainty. Not because of the pink gingham housedress with crinoline and white satin gloves I usually wear whenever I get gas, but because I always unscrew the gas cap and hold the nozzle with the very tips of my fingers so I don’t get gas on my hands. Because nothing is worse than not having a place to wash your hands and smelling like gasoline all day (after the first few seconds when it is actually somewhat pleasant). Yes, I have dropped the nozzle before, and yes I got gas all over my shoes. That was a bad day.

5. Justin Bieber has a song on the radio (I could gripe about that mere fact alone, but I’ll refrain) in which he laments about having “an eenie meenie miney moe lover.” I’m pretty sure Justin Bieber is about 6 years old. The eenie meenie miney moe part makes sense, but isn’t he a bit too young to have a lover? Ok, maybe in actuality he is 16 (I just looked it up), but as long as he insists on wearing his hair like that and looking like a 6-year-old, I will treat him like a 6-year-old! Also Justin, I wouldn’t walk around using the word lover willy-nilly. It makes most people throw up in their mouths a little and also reminds me of this classic SNL skit. Not sure if that’s the image you’re looking to portray.

…AND I’m spent!

Adventures in Chi-town pt. 2: In which I hold a baby and get sort of drunk. Not at the same time.

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You guys. I held a baby last weekend. And I returned him to his mother, unscathed (I’m referring to myself, not the baby).

The baby (one mini Mr. Tyler Hoff, son of my high school friend Stacey) also survived in one piece. His head didn’t fall off, and I want to say he lasted a whole five minutes before bursting into tears. I also have to admit that he was sort of cute in a wrinkly, tiny person kind of way.

Is this a sign? Am I coming around? Do I maybe want a little baby Tyler of my own?

No.

At least not yet.

How do I know this? Because later that night Carlie the newborn baby holder met up with a group of her college friends and turned into Carlie the I’m-not-in-college-anymore-but-that-doesn’t-mean-I-can’t-act-like-it sorority girl and did some things (like stay out until 3 a.m.) that are soooo not mom-like.

So that’s the end of that. But overall, last weekend I had a great time back in Chicago (and surrounding suburbs). And here’s another shocker – I hung out with not one, but TWO babies! At the same time! Willingly!

That’s Tyler and Brooklyn, the offspring of my friends Stacey and Kristen, who seem to be handling motherhood swimmingly. I’m hoping to be able to learn a thing or two from them. They hold their babies like nobody’s business, and that’s not easy for Kristen. Brooklyn is a very healthy 6 months old and my forearm nearly snapped in half when she offered to show me how heavy a baby in a car seat can be. Lesson learned. I better start on the protein shakes now.

After a fun lunch with that crew at Stacey’s house, I headed out to Naperville to begin my baby-free part of the day and catch up with two more friends, Anna and Sarah. We went to a Mexican restaurant and did NOT get margaritas because a night of drinking copious amounts of sangria was in our future. So there’s proof that I don’t act exactly like I did in college (and that my fear of hangovers is almost as intense as my fear of sharks. Which is really intense. Have we discussed that yet? I HATE sharks).

Anyway, after a Diet Coke, chips and salsa and a bite of Sarah’s chicken quesadilla, I was fully fortified for a night on the town!

First stop: Café Iberico! Frequenting this place has become somewhat of a tradition for my college friends. The food is awesome but the sangria…oh the sangria…is purely magical.

And perhaps a side effect of the delicious Iberico sangria fruity goodness I speak of is big scary-ass bug eyes.

I don’t know.

Let me introduce you to the girls. Here we have Megan, Kim and Sarah.

And this is Laura, Emily, Jeannine and Sheena.

Now you can put faces with names when I talk about them again. Because I’m sure I’ll be talking about them again. You may recognize them from my original Adventure in Chi-town.

After downing about 6 pitchers of sangria, we thought it would be a good idea to drink some more.

So off to Clark Street Ale House we went! And we spent about 6 hours there. Almost a full work day. The best part was that I didn’t spend a dime thanks to a generous fellow named Stephan (with a soft “ph) who felt compelled to buy drinks for a bunch of people at the bar that he didn’t know. I hope Stephan remembers how grateful we were when he gets his next credit card bill. I’m sure that will make it all worth it.

The next best part was that I was introduced to a completely addictive game called Photo Hunt.

Basically, they show you two pictures that are slightly different and you have to point out the differences. The money we would have spent on drinks if it wasn’t for Stephan was quickly poured into this machine.

Then it was a quick detour to El Famous Burrito and off to bed (aka deflating air mattress on Megan’s floor)!

Ah, Chi-town. Thanks for yet another great weekend!

I have a feeling the spending-time-with-babies to going-out-drinking ratio in my future weekend trips will start tipping in the babies’ favor. But for now, this was a great balance! And that means something since my preferred balance in the past would have been 0% babies and 100% going out.

This is big – I’m making progress!

What’s my Facebook status? Old.

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Back in the social media stone ages when I first joined Facebook (circa 2006), there was no such thing as a status update. It was basically just a bunch of profiles and walls that you could write messages on. Ah, life was so simple back then.

Now every time I sign on, I’m barraged with links and updates and conversations and photos and stuff people “like” and my brain explodes.

But don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of Facebook. I “like” it, if you will. I think it’s really interesting.

Most of the time, I don’t care about 80% of the information posted by my Facebook friends, but scanning through their updates this morning, I started thinking that who I am friends with and what they are talking about really says a lot about me as a person.

And it seems that my status, according to Facebook, is that I’m getting OLD.

Here are some of the examples of the statuses I encountered in my news feed today:

“Headed to NC to meet our new nephew.”

“Happy anniversary babe!”

“I will not be one of those parents who talk about their kids’ bodily functions. But dude, omg. She’s so tiny!”

“Feeling sort of old because all I want is $$$ for Home Depot so I can get new faucets, sinks & light fixtures.”

“I have a dancing baby in my belly!”

 “Happy 3rd birthday to my hilarious daughter!”

Yes, that’s right – my Facebook friends, most of whom I consider to be my peers, are all yammering away about babies, home improvements, and long-term relationships. Next thing you know, I’ll be seeing status updates about AARP discounts, playing Bingo, and what was for lunch in the retirement community cafeteria.

The days of reading about studying for tests, going to parties, and recovering from the subsequent hangovers have long since passed me by. Most of the people I associate with have become spouses, parents, homeowners, and working professionals.

Now there’s nothing wrong with this. As a 28-year-old woman who has matured at a relatively normal rate, you would hope that my friends and acquaintances would have done the same. But looking at their collective status updates today, I was suddenly struck by the fact that I am no longer in limbo between young professional, having fun, working for the weekend and settled, responsible, bill-paying adult. I am squarely in the settled, responsible phase.

Luckily, I’m ok with that. In fact, the settled, responsible phase is a lot more relaxing, involves a lot less drama, and I think I can hear my liver sighing with relief.

Thanks to my work friends for inspiring this post and telling me about this hilarious website showcasing parents on Facebook whose children will grow up with major privacy issues!

To all my Facebook friends – I hope you have a great weekend full of changing diapers, working overtime, driving mini vans, staying in on Saturday night, and doing all of the things us settled, responsible adults do!

Happy Friday!

5 ways I might screw up my future kids

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I know, I know, I’m jumping the gun a little – you have to actually have kids (or want to have them) before you can screw them up. But I’ve always been the type of person who worries plans in advance. Some might say I need to be more spontaneous, but I just take comfort in the fact that not much ever surprises me. And if it does – I freak out.

By thinking of all of the things I could do that might possibly turn my children into horrible people before they become actual people, I feel like I might be able to avoid them (the things I could do, not the children…although avoiding your children seems like a great way to screw them up…didn’t crack the top 5 though). We’ll see.

1. When Gatsby is sleeping on my lap while I’m watching TV and a catchy song (usually an iPod commercial) comes on, I like to pick him up, stand him on his hind legs and make him dance until he bites me. I’m truly concerned about how difficult it might be to control this same urge with a baby.

2. One time, this thought actually crossed my mind: Even if I have a boy someday, what’s the harm in dressing him in girl clothes when I take him out in public for the first few months of his life? They’re so much cuter than boy clothes. And I think I might like my baby more if I can put bows in its hair. No one will know the difference…

Cute, right? Sure it's a girl...?

3. As an adolescent, I had glasses, braces, bad skin and was a spelling bee champ. Will also had glasses and bad skin and was a geography bee champ . In other words, our nerdiness knew no bounds. Our future kids are already facing uphill battles based on genetics alone!

4. Will and I were both pretty good students, so if our kids don’t do well in school, I’m either going to accuse them of being lazy and not trying hard enough or seriously consider how likely it was that the hospital gave us the wrong baby. These kinds of expectations may be a tad unhealthy to put on a child who I haven’t even met. And yet, here they are.

5. I watch all of the Real Housewives shows on Bravo. I really hope those shows get cancelled (what am I saying!?) before my kids are old enough to watch TV because they really shouldn’t be watching that stuff. And I don’t trust myself not to watch it just because they’re in the room. The excuse, “they don’t understand it anyway” would probably escape my lips and then, before I know it, they’ll be walking around talking about “bubbies” and asking why we don’t have a house in the Hamptons. Also, I really don’t want them thinking that Kelly Bensimon is what normal moms look like. Lets leave the unrealistic expectations to me, ok kids?

Ode to Miami Beach

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Want to hear about our trip to Miami last weekend?

Hopefully you do because I just spent 20 minutes of my life composing a song about it. Or, I took a song that was already composed and made up new words.

I present to you a little ditty entitled Party in Miami Beach. Please sing to the tune of Party in the U.S.A. by the always classy Miley Cyrus, because I intuitively knew getting that song stuck in your head is exactly what you needed right now.

If you want, you can picture me singing it to you (a serenade, if you will). My voice sounds a lot like Christina Aguilera’s. Maybe a little bit more soulful. Enjoy.

I hopped off the plane in Miami

With bleary eyes and a need for sun.

Welcome to the land of overpriced drinks – and where can I get one?

Jumped in the cab, here I am for the first time

Look to my right and I see a drag show sign

This is all so crazy, he really looks like a lady!

 

We get to South Beach and see all the Art Deco

And a cute little gecko

That’s when we changed our clothes and we hit the beach

 

And saw an old guy in a thong.

An old guy in a thong.

An old guy in a THONG!

 

So I put my hands up

To cover my face

And make that nastiness go away

Skin folds galore like yeah

Butt floss, no more like yeah

 

I put my hands up

My eyes, my eyes!

I know I probably uttered a screech

Yeeeaa-aa-aah it’s a party in Miami Beach!

 

Walking to the club down Collins Ave.

Everybody’s speaking Spanish now

Like “Hola chica, que paso?”

Are we sure this is an American town?

 

So hard with these juice heads all around me

Definitely like a Jersey Shore party

‘Cause there’s a TV crew and JWOWW

And no, I’m not joking with you now

 

My tummy’s turnin’ and I see The Situation

What an awesome vacation!

That’s when I almost got to take a cell phone pic

 

But MTV guy yelled at me

The MTV guy yelled at me

The MTV guy yelled at ME!

 

So I put my hands up

They’re leaving us now

My chance at fame flies away

I’m all nonchalant like yeah

Idiotic smile on my face like yeah

 

I put my hands up

Let’s go get a drink

A mojito must be within reach

Yeeeaa-aa-aah it’s a party in Miami Beach!

 

Yes, we really saw JWOWW and The Situation filming a Jersey Shore episode. And I made eye contact with Mr. Situation himself! For those venturing to South Beach in the near future, they appear to be working at a yogurt place on Collins Ave. Don’t be surprised if you see Will and me milling about in the background in one of the Season 2 episodes…

Home is in my chest cavity

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Home is where the heart is.

So…my home is in my chest cavity? Sounds warm and cozy enough! I hope I have cable in there. And WiFi.

Yes, I know I’m being too literal. But I have an issue with that saying. While it is a lovely sentiment, what if you don’t know where your figurative “heart” is?

If you read this blog regularly and don’t space out while you’re reading or carelessly skim the words because you’ve got more important things to do, you know that Will and I spent a few days in Miami this past weekend. The trip was lots of fun. South Beach is a beautiful, sunny place filled with loose women, crack heads, members of the Jersey Shore cast, and American Apparel stores. We had a blast! I’ll tell you more about it in my next post when I have a chance to upload my pictures.

Anyway, as the end of our vacation neared, I found myself thinking about going home. I hate when vacations end, but it’s always nice to get back to good ol’ familiar Illinois – land of Cubs fans, deep dish pizza, and Walter E. Smithe (you dream it, we build it!).

But WAIT! Hold the phone! Insert the sound of a vinyl record screeching to a halt here!

That lovely place I was envisioning myself returning to? I don’t live there! That was Chicago, or more specifically Wheaton (land of 1,000 churches and even more religion-based judgements! (Sorry Wheaton, I love you. Muah!)).

So that was weird. For a split second, I had actually forgotten that I now live in St. Louis. It seems that when I think of going home, going back to what is familiar and what I envision my daily life to be, I still think of my hometown.

So I guess whoever wrote the home is where the heart is saying would conclude that my “heart” and therefore my “home” is in Wheaton. But that’s so far from where I actually live – from my job, my cute apartment, my husband, and – dear God – my dog! It doesn’t seem right that my “home” isn’t where those things are.

Basically, myself and my heart are homeless. My physical self is happily living in St. Louis, but my heart is in Wheaton, probably rubbing it in by going to the Popcorn Shop every day and taking the train downtown to take walks by the lake and go out to nice restaurants. No fair.

Thus, I’m not a fan of the home is where the heart is saying. If it was on Facebook, I would not “like” it. I would be one of those people commenting on why there isn’t a “dislike” button.

I like to think that I just take my “home” with me wherever I go – that way, I’m always there! So for now, I’m going to go with the literal interpretation and say that my home is inside of me…possibly in my chest cavity, but I’d have to have an X-ray to positively determine that.