According to Crain’s Chicago Business, Sears has teamed up with BCBG to offer fashion-forward styles at low prices. The article asks, “But can women who want to appear chic reconcile buying their latest spring fashions at the same place where they bought the family lawnmower?.”
That misses the real question, though, which is “do women who purchase the family lawnmower really care about fashion-forward styles?”
The answer, to both questions, is obviously a big, fat, trailer-park living, corn-dog eating, NO. Seriously. Those people at Sears need to get real.
You may as well know that the below entry may well be the last plumbing-trade-magazine-related post I ever make here. Reason?
I got a new job.
Did you hear the choir of angels just then? Because I did.
Three years ago, I accepted my current job with the intention of getting a different, better job RIGHT AWAY. A year into it, I was convinced that I was making my karmic payment for certain misbehaviors in my past. Two years into it, I convinced myself that I was strengthening my character. Three years into it, I was doing my best not to shoot myself in the head every single morning.
Of course, I exaggerate. But I have endured a paycheck 25% less than my male counterpart and getting slapped on the butt, among other things.
Let me just say that it is with great joy that I delete my “Job Hunt” folder on this computer tonight. Now bring on the beer.
Please don’t ask me why, but part of my job involves perusing plumbing trade magazines. That’s how I came across this little number. Highlights (I read them so you don’t have to):
“Over a seven-year period, the average person spends nearly 90,000 minutes, or more than 62 days, using the toilet seat. The average person uses it for about 35 minutes in a single day.”
“According to a survey conducted by Opinion Research Corp., 76% of a nationwide sample of more than 1,000 adults admitted to inspecting their friends’ toilets.”
I think they left out the fact that the survey was apparently given only to plumbers.
Saturday is normally my bunny slipper day, so there’s nothing new there… This morning I wrote a review of 3 Penny Cinema for Centerstage. I will, of course, post a link when it’s up. I also reviewed the Field Museum this time around. Review seems like a weird word, because one doesn’t really review one of the country’s best natural history museums, but whatever. “Wrote a description of” is a little too wordy.
In case you’re wondering (because I did), the museum’s official name is the “Field Museum of Natural History” but the PR person there told me that they refer to it as “The Field Museum” for marketing and PR purposes. I think I’ll call it Bill.
Last night Jay and I went to Maza, followed by a trip to the 3 Penny to see “The Animation Show.” I had originally volunteered to review Maza for Centerstage, but someone claimed it before me, apparently. We went there for dinner anyway, because it sounded so good. Lebanese tapas. We were not disappointed. For $30 we got the Maza Deluxe, which is a 2-person feast of middle-eastern cuisine. I say “2-person” because that’s what the menu claimed, but really it could have fed 4. There were approximately 20 plates, and I have never had so many variations of chickpeas in one night. The manager seemed impressed with how much we were able to eat, although I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jay leave so much food on a table. They gave us complimentary orange rice pudding as our reward.
We headed over to 3 Penny and accidentally got there 40 minutes before showtime. Jay said he felt like he was in a cheap porno theater, and this morning I found out that 3 Penny was home to the Chicago premier of Deep Throat. I didn’t realize he was clairvoyent, but apparently he could feel the ghosts of all the leisure-suit clad swingers hanging around.
The Animation Show was… interesting. I thought most of the shorts were a tiny bit too long, but Jay only claimed boredom during 2 of them. However, Bill Plympton’s Guard Dog and Tomek Baginski’s Fallen Art (you can view the Fallen Art website in Polski!) easily made it worth the $7.50 admission price for me. Jay’s favorite was Hello, a sweet story about a guy who’s head is a tape player who is in love with a girl who’s head is a CD player. Also, 3 Penny is a brew-n-view, so we took advantage of the $2.50 beer. It’s hard to argue with $2.50 beer.
JOY! I took a shower before noon. Ahhh… Remember those good old grad-school days when I would blog about things like what time I showered or how many people I spoke to that day? Those were the days…
P.S. I’m still wearing the bunny slippers.
UPDATE: All My Children! Oh my sweet, sweet All My Children! I can’t believe Edmund died. He’s not *really* dead though, right?
Seriously, I wish I could work like this every day. Pajama pants and bunny slippers. Plus Regis and Kelly. I LOVE Good Friday. I’m going to be SO productive today. I have FREELANCE work to do. Not anything super lucrative, but you gotta start somewhere.
Mired in bills and considering a second job? Been eyeing the new spring fashions but have to make the car payment instead? Check and CHECK. So I signed up for Writeforcash.com. I have made $60 so far this month, and I should have $45 more before the end of the month. That’s $105 for me to spend on SHOES!!!!
$105 extra would have taken me about 15 hours to make if I were to get a minimum wage job at, say, the mall. Of course, if were to get a minimum wage job at the mall, I would probably work more than 15 hours a month, but I would not be able to go to work at the mall in my pajamas and bunny slippers. And there’s also the humiliation factor of running into an acquaintance or business associate while you are working a minimum wage job at the mall. No diving behind clothing racks for me! Instead, I will write 500 words about “how to remove candle wax from carpet” and make $15 in my pajamas! WOOHOO!
OK, I’m watching some kind of push-up competition on Regis and Kelly, and I have to say that I don’t really think this dude is actually doing push-ups. He’s in push-up position, but is just kind of bobbing his head. Super LAME.
So I should probably do some work now.
First of all, I want to say that Jay was using my I-Pass while I was out of town on business. This was not the first time that we have used my I-Pass in his car, but this was the first time I was not in the car when it happened. Did they know that? Weird.
Second of all, if you want to use your I-Pass in someone else’s car, you are supposed to call the I-Pass people and tell them. It’s pretty easy. However, if you wait until you have a toll violation, you will be transferred between the Violation Processing Service and the I-Pass Customer Service no fewer than 25 times. (Hyperbole!) That said, considering the amount of transferring I did this morning, all of the women I spoke with were pretty friendly. They should get some of these people over at the DMV.
I admit that I was surprised that I was allowed to add the second car to my I-Pass account after-the-fact and still have the fines waved. Ex Post Facto, if you will. But the fact is that we did have the I-Pass in the car at the time of the alleged “violation.” So if the fines were for using the I-Pass in a car that wasn’t registered with I-Pass, then we would be guilty for sure. But that’s not what the fines were for, so I guess we’re in the clear.
I’m not sure if I got further by referring to Jay as “my husband,” but “my fiance” sounds too foofy, and “my boyfriend” doesn’t really convey his right to be on my I-Pass. Not that they care about who you have on the I-Pass. I probably think too much about these things. But I did get a glimpse of the alternate universe in which I don’t compromise by hyphenating my last name but rather hold to my belief that a woman shouldn’t change her last name when she marries. That alternate universe goes a little like this:
Customer Service Representative: (confused) “What’s the name on this account?”
Me: “J— M—. He’s my husband.”
CSR: (incredulous) “What’s YOUR name?”
Me: “A— H—.”
CSR: “I have to check to make sure this is ok.”
Me: “…”
CSR: “OK. I’m going to put a note here that says you are his wife. You don’t have the same last name, so it’s kind of confusing.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Good thing I’m in a good mood today because I have the day off of work for Good Friday (Good INDEED). Otherwise, she would have gotten an earful about patriarchy and the transfer of women as property…
The Food Network has a Chicago-style pizza recipe from Marc Malnati of Lou Malnati’s pizzerias. Lou’s is my favorite Chicago-style pizza, so I’m pretty enthusiastic about finding this recipe. I’m sure my enthusiasm will fade a bit once I’m knee-deep in tomato sauce when I actually try to make it. What is a dough hook? Does the dough really need to rest for 4 hours? What kind of lazy-ass dough is this? This will probably not end well…
This past weekend, in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, Jay and I picked up a 2 liter bottle of Green River soda and attempted to create the perfect Green River cocktail. I had no idea that Green River soda (or paaahhhp, if you must) is bottled in Chicago, and I’m not sure if I’m proud or mortified that such a, uh…, unique beverage calls our city its home. Green River tastes mostly like high fructose corn syrup with a shot of citric acid (for that authentic “lime” taste), but its color makes it worth the vomitious flavor. Think Mountain Dew meets Kermit the Frog. Even the Irish have not seen green like this, so you just know that the stuff has never come into contact with anything even remotely organic. It’s really a testament to modern chemistry.
However. HOWEVER. No matter how Irish you’re feeling, a Green River cocktail is not a good idea. We tried mixing it with vodka. We used the Skyy vodka, knowing that it was going to need more than Gordan’s to be palatable. The result was something that I might use to clean the floors, if it weren’t so goddamed sticky. I accidentally got some on me, and I think I still have a little residue from it. It was a little better with Jack Daniels, but neither of us could risk a third try, not even for The Captain. We switched to Vodka and 7UP, and called it a night.
The opening of Marrakech Cuisine in Wicker Park has me thinking: has this hookah lounge thing shown up in other cities, too? They seem to be scattered all over the north side, and there are at least three in the Bucktown/Wicker Park area alone. Souk is a chic Middle Eastern restaurant with a little shisha on the side, while Sigara Hookah Café & Lounge specializes in the hookahs, with a little hummus if you’re hungry. Babylon Eatery is more casual and offers hookahs only on Fridays and Saturdays after 10 p.m. Wicker Park is known for all its artists, but maybe those belly dancing lessons pay off a little better than art school.
