Radio killed the radio star.

As you all know, I have been sick and stuck at home. This evening while I was enjoying a nice Soup-at-Hand in the bath (I can't drink wine so I improvised), I decided to call a good friend of mine to catch up. His wife is a loyal reader of my blog, and she was complaining how I don't write daily. I explained that I update my blog when I have inspiration, and my thought process doesn't have a set schedule. If I was constantly full of bright ideas, I would write every day, but most days I am lucky if I don't leave the house with my underwear on inside out.

In an attempt to get my creative juices flowing, she asked her daughter what she thought I should write about and she suggested music.

I love music, but what I enjoy isn't on any top 10 charts. I hardly listen to the radio unless I am using it as background noise in the car (when my phone is dead). A few months ago I caught the MTV music awards, and I literally had no idea who half of those people were. Plus, no one cares to read another blog about music...unless of course it's my blog right!?

In my cough medicine induced state, I thought it would be fun to turn on the radio and see what the kids are listening to these days (and if you consider having your ears bleed fun, then yes, I had a ball).

I figured I'd endure ten songs and report my findings. Here is what I heard, and in case you are out of the loop like me, I thought I would fill you in...

Am I the best or what?

1. Macklemore and Ryan Lewis "Thrift shop." 

Last time I checked, wasn't it cool to sing about how much money you are wearing in gold chain form or about making it rain on them hoes? When did it become cool to be broke? I mean, if being broke is cool, consider me Miles Davis.

P.S. Macklemore, you didn't make thrift shops cool again, hipsters did. This song should be called, "Late to the Wicker Park party."

2. Florida Georgia Line "Cruise."

"I have bad grammar and like to drive slowly."  Is that what this song is about? I trailed off, sorry.

3. Icona Pop "I love it."

She wants to sound like a really fun, free, independent woman, but let's call this what it is...a psycho ex girlfriend. If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, and drives your car off a bridge, it is crazy.

4. Pitbull and Christina Aguilera "Feel this moment."

I literally have no idea what this song is about. He is giving himself numerous nicknames and singing contradictions that are half in English/half in Spanish, while she is singing about a castle...White Castle I assume cause we all know she's hungry.

5. Taylor Swift's "We are never, ever, getting back together."

Basically this is a song about a stupid girl who forgave her ex a billion times then finally decides to kick his ass to the curb for good...unless, let's be honest, he starts working out and gets really hot. Or rich. I mean never say never, ever.

6. Avril Lavgine "Here's to never growing up."

I liked this song better when it was called, "We are young" by F.U.N. Sure these songs are catchy now, but when either randomly play in 20 years, you'll be crying into your wine.

7. Carly Rae Jepson "Tonight I'm getting over you."

"Tonight I'm getting over you because I'm getting under someone else.  Once he sneaks out, and I wake up...I'll be writing more songs about you though so don't you worry....or maybe worry a little lot."

8. Justin Timberlake "Mirrors."

"You remind me of myself, and I really like myself so that's perfect. If you leave there will only be one of me, so stay at least until I get cloned...I mean, I love you."

9. Demi Lovato "Heart attack."

"I want to fight you, while you make me want to complete basic feminine hygiene routines, but I can't be the kind of girl who can love you because I will have a blockage in my coronary artery."  Did I get this right?

10. Pink and Nate Ruess "Give me a reason."

"Shit. I confessed in my sleep that I don't like you anymore, but I guess I'm relieved that's all I confessed (and not that tranny I banged in Mexico)...now let's continue pretending we still like each other cause that's what we call marriage."

Oh, so this is what dying feels like.

Thanks for clearing that up.

So, as we all know I have had my fair share of hangovers, and cried wolf ("I'm dying!") a numerous amount of times. Well this time I don't even have the memories of last night to get me through my demise because I have bronchitis.

There is nothing fun about bronchitis...unless you caught it from kissing a sick Ryan Gosling, which sadly, is not the case for me. I will also accept Zac Efron as a close second carrier, but the buck stops there. Instead, I probably got it when some kid decided to lick the cart handle on one of many Target trips.  Damn you target.  First you take all my money, and now you give me cooties.  If you somehow knock me up next visit, we are sooooo over.

So far, I have coughed up at least one of my lungs, had a 102.4 fever for so long I've started to hallucinate, and I have sweated all over myself worse than a whore in church.

Being sick is not all bad though. (I have tried to compose a list of the advantages of being sick...basically, so I don't hang myself.)

When you are sick you get to...

• miss work. Sure, you'll probably have to do extra work later to make up for it, but try not to think about that now...just sit back and let the Netflix marathons happen. Let all of them happen. 
• take a million baths and don't have to wash your hair. Why bother washing/styling your hair when no one but your cat will see you...plus he digs dreadlocks.
• drink so much cold medicine you kinda feel drunk and all warm and fuzzy inside. This is the only time two-three shots will knock you on your ass. (Malort excluded of course, but whoever takes more than one shot of Malort? One is all you need to realize you have made a terrible mistake...)
• loose weight without even trying.  Why bother going to the gym when you can just contract some mildly horrific disease. Seriously, it took you 346892 minutes on the treadmill to lose the amount of weight I have lost so far from sitting on my ass. Jealous? Come over and I'll cough directly into your mouth. You thank me when you go down a dress size.
• get taken care of by your parents, significant other, or roommates. You have become a completely useless human being, and others will pity you. Take full advantage before you have to start cooking your own meals and rubbing your own back.
• sleep, siesta, nap, snooze, doze, slumber...it's all so amazing. This may be the only time you get the full recomended 8 hours of sleep on purpose.  Blacking out doesn't count...even if you drank so much you intended to.
• say fuck make up. Fuck hair products. Fuck shaving. Fuck most personal hygiene routines. Fuck bras...and my personal favorite FUUUUUUUCK pants.  I'm sick and hot, and you can't make me wear pants! Not this time buddy. Let me die happy.

Because as we all know, this time, "I'm dying!"

Summer wish list.

The past few days have been exceptionally warm in Chicago indicating that possibly, after another few snowstorms, summer will finally be here!  I am completely unprepared. I mean, I am still storing my fat from the winter...of '09.   I'm also pretty sure most of my bikinis have been accidentally burned or mysteriously disappeared anyway.

I began wishing my fat away since diet and exercise take too long, plus I really like to eat and sit and my ass. I figured since I am attempting to pray myself thin, why not just make a list of the other ridiculous things I want this summer.

Fingers crossed.

I would like...

• for jiggly and pale to be the new black.

• free Lollapalooza tickets and for once to not have the only 3 bands I want to see play on the same day at the same time.

• to drink margaritas in flavor combinations one can only assume were created by drunk scientists.

• a Jeep with no roof or doors that me and all my gal pals can drive all over the city without getting  down poured on and/or murdered.

• a rocking tan without wrinkles or skin cancer.

• beach waves instead of that special hybrid of afro/dreadlocks I bring back every summer.

• Chicago to stay one temperature and not have said temperature be "Hades."

• eat every street fest out of business. 

• to get day drunk without falling asleep. sitting up. in public places like a freaking narcoleptic. 

• for mosquitoes to be as repulsed by me as Kim Kardashian is of white guys.

• sex on the beach without getting sand all up in my woman parts.  I will also accept the cocktail version. Or any cocktail. Straight vodka. I like booze.

• (I would also like) to enjoy any afternoon at the beach without somehow eating it for the rest of the day.

• to be one of those women who has time to read whatever book Oprah is recommending this week. 

• some obnoxiously bright colored summer clothes instead of just wearing black all the time because you can't show up to every BBQ/pool party looking like Winona Ryder's stand in for Beetlejuice.

• to flip through an issue of Vogue and finally know what kind of sandals are in style.  

• to be able to afford any sandals in Vogue.

and finally...

• Gelato.  All of the gelato.

This one time I kinda told my best friend's husband I would blow him. At their wedding. In a speech. In front of 200 people.

Hello everyone.  It's your favorite time of the month.

No, guys it's not "blow job week" (or the less exciting way women refer to it: our periods). It's story time! A time where you can hear all about the mishaps and embarrassing moments of my life so you can feel better about yours...

A couple of years back my best friend since the 6th grade (Rima) was getting married to her long time boyfriend Anthony, and of course I was a shoe in for the maid of honor slot because I know all of her secrets. In case you guys didn't know, women determine who is their best friend by how much dirt they have on them. The more beans you spill, the closer you two are. If they know about the time you shit your pants in Cabo, best friends forever!

I was pretty excited since being a maid of honor seems to hold a special title in the girl universe. For whatever reason, it makes you feel super, mega, ultra important. Being chosen basically just reiterated what I already knew...I'm kind of a big deal.

Months leading up to the big day she kept saying how she doesn't want to do all the things most people expect at a wedding since they are so cheesy...no daddy/daughter dance...no gross, overtly sexual garter removal display...and most of all, no speeches. I thought this was her best idea to date...although we did used to drink Boone's Farm by the case full so there's really no telling...

Well, as luck would have it, the day before the wedding at the flipping rehearsal dinner, her future brother in law/best man mentions how his speech is going to knock it out of the park. Speech? What!? Did he not get the memo?  She told me he insisted on giving one, but I didn't need to feel obligated. At this point I had two options, write a speech in half a day, or not give one and look like an asshole. Well jokes on me since I wrote one and still ended up looking like the biggest asshole of all time anyway.

I thought of what I wanted to say, I but didn't write it out.  I was not going to get up there and read from a piece of paper like I hardly knew the couple. This was my best friend so whatever I said would come straight from the heart...

And here is the masterpiece my stupid heart produced...

"Rima is my best friend and has been since the 6th grade. Growing up we would play a game called, "If you, me, and insert random boyfriend at the time's name here, were on a ship in the middle of the ocean, and it began to sink but you could only save one of us...who would it be?"

Now this game had played hundreds, um I mean, less than ten times over the years (sorry for the confusion there Anthony), and the answer was always each other.  I remember I even asked her when you two first started dating, and sorry to say...you did not survive the boat catastrophe of 2003.

Once you two got engaged, I asked her the very same question. I was waiting for the typical response when Rima said, for the first time, "I would save you both."  I responded quickly. "Whoa, whoa...are you Superman? You can't carry the two of us to shore. I just ate a really large lunch too. You can literally just save one of us."

She claimed she would summon two dolphins, put each of us on one of their backs and have them ride us safely to shore. Wait, now she is Aqua man? Did I miss something?

The scenarios continued on, and each one got more ridiculous than the last. I finally cut her off and said, "Alright. All sea life companions, cruise ships, and submarine rescues aside...you can only save one. Who is it going to be?

I will never forget when she looked at me and somberly said, "Then I would have to kill myself."

This was the moment I realized Anthony was no longer an "insert random boyfriend's name here" but rather her soul mate. It was also the moment I realized I need to invest in a life jacket...

I truly am so happy you two found each other, and Anthony, you make my best friend so happy that if the three of us were ever on a sinking ship, arguing over who gets left behind, I would gladly go down for you any day."

Every woman reading this probably just did what every woman in the room did...let out a simultaneous "Awwwww."  Every man who just read this probably wants to do what all the dudes at the wedding did...high-five the groom. Even the teary eyed bride was clueless until her hubby pointed out that their wedding night could get a lot more interesting now that I wanted to go down on him.

For the record, I did say for you, not on you, but to a man there really is no difference.

So there you have it.

Ladies, the next time you fart in front of a guy (or fellows, the next time you um, let's say, have a premature evacuation) just remember, it's not that bad. At least you didn't accidentally make a fellatio reference at a crowded formal event.

Cheers!

Long distance lovers.

It seems lately several of my friends have somehow found themselves in long distance relationships.  Maybe Chicago is actually out of eligible bachelors or maybe the dating grass really is greener on the other side.  I hear about how hard it can be at times so I thought I would write a blog to cheer my girls up.

I'm the best.

Ladies, Being long distance lovers is not all bad...


You get to experience the perks of being in a relationship, yet I still think you are fun to be around.

You don't have to shave your legs or get waxed very often.  Fuuuuuck waxing. I would rather get punched in the vagina by a midget on steroids.

You can eat ice cream directly out of the carton, and only your pets will judge you.

You can finally stop sucking your stomach in for 5 effing minutes.

Weekend sex fest, and everyone is pulling out their best moves too.  It's Christmas morning, but with orgasms!

You can go out with your friends, drink yourself into a coma, and complain the entire following day about your hangover without someone saying, "I told you not to try to keep up with me and my friends."
(I do what I want.)

You can watch all the Bravo, Oxygen, and E! you want. "Bad Girl's Club" marathon?!  Don't mind if I do...

You can finally stop being Macgyver when it comes to covering up that you (despite popular belief) do in fact poop. Sorry boys.

You can finally rock sweat pants, be crabby, and not pretend all you want to do is wear a sundress and twirl in fields of flowers when you have your period.

You remember there is another word besides "we" in the English language. WE love sushi. WE can't wait for summer. (I really want to punch you.)

You not only get to buy as many shoes as you want, but you also can buy the good toilet paper and the expensive shampoos without a lecture on your spending habits.

And don't forget...