#188 – Park It

Living in Chicago provides lots of free, fun opportunities if you’re willing to sniff around a bit.  At the end of the summer, a few of us did just that and:

I went to a “concert in the park” at Millenium Park. 

The venue is awesome.  We packed a few apps and some drinks and enjoyed the show.  If you’re wondering who was playing- I don’t know. The end.


Fun factor: 9


#187- Trippy

I emailed my future self.

I stumbled across this new thing on one of my blogs.  Through this site, you can send an email to yourself in the future.  You basically type whatever you want and select a date in the future for it to arrive to you via email.  I chose to receive an email one year from today  that will make me feel worthless if I haven’t accomplished certain things.  If I have accomplished them, I shall feel grand.  Yes, this is a cry for help.

Fun factor: 7

#186 – Say My Name, Say My Name

Title and idea post for  ‘ol numero 186 provided by friend and Book Club mate, Marti.  Lately I’ve been trying to casually – but aggressively – sprinkle an idea in peoples’ ears and inboxes:

I’ve created and publicized my own nickname.

Yes, I know, this defeats the very point of a nickname, which is a sort of earned distinction in most circles.  But I wanted a new one and thought I’d give it a try.  The most effective marketing tool thus far has been to change my gmail name to read “Envelope” when people receive an email from me.

As you may have gathered from above, I now request to be called Envelope.  Envy, for short.

Me, cruising around town, looking for trouble.

Fun factor: 10

#185 – Hootch

Over the summer, Johanna, Emily and I went to First Fridays at the MCA.  When we realized that we were in serious danger of catching an airborne STD from the horny vultures who make this a regular event, we bolted for some stiffies down the street.  We went to Ralph Lauren Restaurant, which is where things got pretty crazy.  The place has a lodge-y, masculine feel and the cocktail list matches this vibe.  We decided that we’d all order commonly known cocktails, even though we had no idea what the ingredients for each entailed.  Emily got a Tom Collins, Jo ordered a Sidecar and:

I ordered a Rob Roy.

Tom Collins, Rob Roy, Sidecar. Beating of chests and scratching of crotches occurs in a separate, private photo album.

The idea sounded so adventurous.  We were such crazy city gals, out on the town looking to get a cheap buzz.  Turns out, two of the three drinks were undrinkable due to alcohol content and/or they immediately sprouted hairs on our chests.  Much like the time I wanted to wrestle a bear at the I-X Center, this idea was more romantic a thought than an action.

Fun factor: 8

#184 – The Reader

Over a year ago,  after they got engaged, Emily and Billy asked me to do a reading at their wedding.  I’ve done a reading before at my friend Sarah’s wedding, which was a Bible passage selected by her.  Emily and Billy didn’t care what I read, so:

I selected a wedding reading.

I ended up reading a passage from the Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams (below).  I think it went well, despite my knees wobbling while I read, and my Spanx not being a high enough grade to tame my midsection during the affair.

An excerpt from
The Velveteen Rabbit

By Margery Williams

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day.  “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When someone loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand…Someone made me Real,’ he said. ‘That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.’

Fun factor: 10+

#183 – Just a wii bit inappropriately agressive

This new thing happened in August.  Johanna and I were looking to get crazy on a Thursday night, so we attended a unique fundraiser and:

I participated in a Wii tennis tournament.

That flaccid left arm didn’t do me any favors.

The tourney was attended by a variety of folks, including some of the event’s beneficiaries, who were Chicago youth that participated in the organization’s daily programming.  Jo and I dressed up in our tennis duds and took on two kids, both approximately aged 10.  I wish I was adding the following detail for comedic effect, but it’s the sad truth: I was literally talking trash to the kids.  They ended up beating us, thankfully, or else I really would see you all in hell.

Fun factor: 8

#182 – Trashers perform

For this new thing, I was able to check another thing off my life list (#8).

I sang karaoke.

An epic rendition of a song I don’t remember occurred in Sonoma, while on vacation.  We managed to find the one shithole bar in Sonoma that would accept our behavior standards, and we returned night after night.  I looked for a website online to include a link, but not surprisingly, Steiner’s doesn’t have a website.  It did have 19 reviews on Yelp, however.  My favorite came from Nick R., native to Sonoma: “A local gathering place for trashers.”  I enjoyed Charles J.’s synopsis, as well: “If you DID NOT vote for McCain, avoid this place!”

Emily and I sang together.  Post-performance, when I returned to our crowd of friends, I was shamelessly booed by all.  Apparently they thought I choked.  They said I had my hand in my pockets the whole time looking around like a scared otter.

Singing with soul.

Fun factor: 8