tuesday 10: what I love about...

A second post today! Seriously? Seriously.

Read on. Prepare for having your mind blown.Just kidding, probably. But you've been warned.
Linking up with one of my favorites, Lena @ Mom2MemphisAndRubyfor her final 10 for 4 whole weeks!*gasp!*
This weeks theme is
What I love about _____.Fill in the blanks! I was always so good at those.
So, I read through everyone's lists that have posted so far, and I'm so torn about what to share! Everyone is sharing why they love their family, boyfriend/husband, etc. Julie at The Funny Thing of it is... made my day with her love note for her cell phone. I actually lol'd. No joke. I almost didn't write a 10, because hers trumped my unwritten 10 in every possible way. 
It's with much consideration that I present you with...
The Top 10 Reasons Why I Love...My Bed.
1. It generally provides me at least 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep every night.
2. It is not too hard and not too soft - it really feels like a firm snuggle.
3. It is my very first big girl bed. I mean, not like I've been sleeping in a crib for 29 years. I haven't. But, I haven't had a proper bed before this one. Just a mattress and boxspring on a metal frame. Mine is a real, honest to God, beautiful black wooden sleigh bed. I've been begging B for one since we moved in together, and finally got one when we bought the nest.
4. I can do work while laying in it and my back never hurts.
5. It's accessories are the best. I have a gorgeous light blue and green paisley quilt that I LOVE, and throw blankets coming out of my eyeballs, and two throw pillows (one with roses and one made of burlap with birds on a wire in vintage-y material) that I also love.
6. Memory foam pillow. That's it.
7. It's big enough for my entire family to fit into. That's right. B and I co-sleep with our kids dogs and cats. Conrad always sleeps in my armpit or in the basket of my arm if I sleep on my side. Or with B in his basket. Or under B's butt. Actually Conrad isn't really picky about where he sleeps, as long as it's warm. Lexi generally sleeps along the bottom of the bed, or when she's feeling sassy, on my side of the bed and I have to move her to actually get in my spot. The cats come and go throughout the night. Cessie's favorite spot is somewhere that cuts off my breathing (chest/face/pinching my nostrils shut). Sookie generally stays near my feet... the better for biting them while I sleep. I know this sounds unpleasant, but for me, it's my favorite.
8. I write best in my bed. I swear, the darkness combined with the sheer comfort of the bed itself, is the very best muse I've got.
9. I can look out of my bay window and see the morning sun and super blue sky first thing in the morning. And when I'm not being a total mushroom, that makes me happy.

10. Because I get to wake up and see this...

yup, that's Conrad's foot in a sleeping B's nose. It's the cutest thing that I've ever seen.

B, don't be mad. You look adorable with min pin toes in your nose.

That's it, babes.... Have a great rest of your Tuesday!!!

friday letters

Dear woman on the B train wearing teva sandals with socks, I don't forgive you for elbowing me in the face yesterday in your need to get off the train FIRST. I was sitting there, minding my own business, putting my book in my bag, and half starting to stand, when you stand up from the seat next to me and all of a sudden I'm shocked back into my seat by your bony, wrinkly skinned elbow into my cheekbone and the audible knock of my teeth against one another. G'damn. You didn't apologize. In fact, you looked at me like I inconvenienced you by slowing you down. The very sweet young gay beside me asked if I was okay. I just rolled my (tearing) eyes, and he said that you must've been super mad that you had on sandals with socks while I looked so fabulous. He said it loud enough for you to hear. I hope you did.

Dear Sweet Young Gay, Thank you.

Dear Mom and Dad, Absolutely CANNOT wait to see you this weekend!!! Looong overdue.

Dear Nest, I'm gonna clean you. I'm gonna clean you so hard.

Dear Cessie, What's this new thing with you sleeping on the kitchen table? You leave your hair all over it! This is frustrating. I understand that we're roommates and I have no control over you whatsoever, but can we please discuss the common courtesy that you don't nap where I eat? No? Well, at least we talked about it.

Dear Time, Where do you go? I feel like I never have enough of you.

Dear Weekend, I hope you kick ass. No doubt you will.

My parents are on their way right now, so I'm hoping the weekend will be full of adventuring!
I hope you have some adventures too.

sassy chicago shenanigans

I have such a special treat for you guys today.

Taylor, the sassy brain behind The Daily Tay, is here to visit with us today and share some of her incomparable insights.

I think this girl is adorable and hilarious. A lethal combination. I also charmed her by using the word "lady balls" in our very first conversation. Clearly, we are a match made in heaven.

Without further ado...

~*~
Happy Thursday Perched Readers!

My name is Taylor

and I blog over at The Daily Tay

My blog usually revolves around the random

shenanigans I often find myself getting into here in Chicago.

I also like to talk about my lovely pup, Harlow,

and my lovely boyfriend, Chris.

I tend to be a little bit sarcastic, 

and sometimes a little too cynical-

just depends on if I found a close parking spot for the day or not.

I also like to ramble about the hardships of life after college.

I've been out of school almost three years now and still can't shake the fact

I have to "grow up"and be a part of the "real world."

It doesn't help that the eleven year old version of myself

was extremely driven and competitive

and seemed to have very high (yet unrealistic goals I think)

for twenty five year old me.

Here's a little something I found in the archives I wrote

from 1998 entitled 

"What I Will Do When I Grow Up"

I for one, can’t think of a better time in life to make a goal list than in middle school. The year in life when we are probably the most arrogant, naive, self absorbed forms of ourselves we will ever be.  Let’s see what my overly optimistic eleven year old-self had envisioned…

1. Compete in marathons. – I ran a 5K a couple of years ago, does that count? And marathons are overrated, I heard they make people who aren’t even pregnant go into labor.

2. Have a really cool job that I love where I get to travel and be my own boss. –A little more direction would be nice, dip shit. What will I be doing at this “really cool job?” Let me guess, writing notes all day that are covered in Lisa Frank stickers and then folding them up into really tight little triangle shapes.

3. Live in California or New York. – Ridiculous. Folding notes would never pay enough to live in either of these citites.

4. Live in a cool house that I own. – Makes statement 3 even more ridiculous. Or are you trying to tell me you predicted the low rate homes would be selling at in 2012? You have no concept for money, none. I can barely pay my rent every month, ease off.

5. Go on vacations to Africa and London. – This is a little broad. So you want to go to a city in England, and then visit the entire continent of Africa?

6. Play basketball every day. – Yes well, this one will go out the window right after high school when your heart was broken because your team never made it to state.

7. Be married and maybe have one kid. – Let’s work on getting a boyfriend first, little one. You’re going to go through a pretty intense ugly stage in about six months. And the fact you play basketball everyday doesn’t help any.

8. Do a triathlon- What’s with all the not-so subtle workout hints?

9. Have one dog and one cat.- Starting to get a little more realistic, I like this. I must be getting tired from all of my traveling and exercising.

10. Have a lot money so I can buy whatever I want. –I’m sure what I had in mind was being able to buy unlimited packs of gum because in middle school gum was currency.

I’m glad the list stopped at ten. 

I’d hate to see what other demands that little dictator had in store for me…Maybe I do need to get my life in check. Especially if I plan to get to Africa in the next six months.

Now come on over and say hello!

The Daily Tay

Tweet Tweet
~*~

Amazeballs, Taylor. If I had written myself a "get it done by 21" list when I was 11, it probably would've included become a professional ballet dancer and/or a doctor, and have a rad life of celebrity.

You can't win em all, I guess.

Thank you so much for joining us today, Taylor! It was a blast!!!! Everyone go and give her some love!

friday confessional.

stolen from facebook... with no idea as to who the original creator is...
sorry about that, blogger-verse.

I have a problem.
That's a lie, I have many problems. Waking up and being nice about it is only one of them. Luckily, I am usually alone when waking up in the morning. B leaves for work at ungodly-hour-o'clock, so he doesn't usually have to be subjected to me grumpy groaning, whining, and overall loathing of my morning ritual.

Here's how it usually goes:
6:45am - Sookie steps on my alarm clock, causing chaos. Loud music, barking dogs, me wishing I was dead.
6:45:30am - I grab said cat and stuff her under the covers, groping for the right buttons to turn off music, but not actual alarm.
6:47am - give up and unplug alarm clock. It's still making noise.
6:47:30am - take batteries out. It shuts up.
6:48am - set alarm on iphone for 7:15am
6:48:30am - pass out.

7:15am - alarm goes off. Hit snooze without opening eyes.
7:20am - Cessie tries to smother me with her enormous, furry body, digging her nails into my flesh. Ignore this as long as possible.
7:24am - alarm goes off. Hit snooze without opening eyes.
7:25am - Cessie sits directly on my face. Turn head. Pass out.
7:30am - Cessie boops my nose gently with front paw, as if to say, "wake up, you lazy sack of litter. there's work to be done." Ignore her.
7:33am - alarm goes off. Hit snooze without opening eyes.
7:35am - shift weight or sigh.
7:35:15am - Conrad reads slight shift or sigh as sign that I'm up. He begins stretching, yawning, and army crawling all over me.
7:36am - Lexi wakes up and starts snuggling and kissing my face. Brief period of quiet snuggling.
7:40am - Wrestlemania 2012 begins. The heavyweight, Lexi gets her neck bitten by the lightweight conference champ, Conrad. Attempt to hide under blankets and pillows while they wrestle.
7:42am - alarm goes off. turn it off. continue watching wrestlemania.
7:47am - Wrestlemania ends when both champs run into Sookie and she hisses and punches them in the face.

8:00am - get out of bed when dogs desire for food outweighs desire to provoke cat into punching them in the face over and over.
8:02am - feed dogs, feed cats, head to bathroom to make sense of hair and face.
8:03am - stare at self in mirror
8:13am - realize there's nothing that can be done, and put hair in pony bun.
8:15am - take dogs outside for their second morning walk (they've already been out at ungodly-hour-o'clock with B.)
8:45am - come back in, think about feeding self.
8:46am - stare into fridge
8:50am - realize I only have 10 minutes to get ready for work.
8:51am - panic.
9:01am - walk out the door in clothes that may match.
9:02am - get to the bottom of the stairs and realize I forgot something vital (phone, wallet, keys or any combination of the three)
9:05am - finally walk out the front door and practically run to the train to get into the city on time.
9:20am - wait on the platform, feeling like everyone is looking at me because my clothes don't match, my hair is insane, and my face looks like a car crash.
9:25am - train comes. think about fighting an old lady for a seat. stand instead.
9:30am - see a seat open up, and throw self into it before anyone else can claim it.
9:31am - revel in having won the seat by avoiding eye contact with anyone that's still standing.
9:35am - read book and ignore panhandlers.
9:56am - get off at appropriate midtown manhattan subway stop. Think about running toward The Lifesuck, but would rather be late than winded.
10:02am - arrive at The Lifesuck. Do not apologize for my lateness unless someone who can fire me is there. Begin workday.

Wash, rinse, repeat Monday-Friday and every other Saturday.

What was the point I was trying to make here? Ah, yes, that I have a problem with mornings. I absolutely envy those of you that are up and chipper and happy to be alive in the mornings. That's just not me. Sometimes, I get to work and I don't really remember how I got there. Or I look at what I'm wearing and think, "I should start laying out clothes the night before. I look insane."

On days that I've showered, done my hair, or actually struck gold with an outfit that matches, I get complimented like I'd gotten a makeover or something, which leads me to believe that on normal days, I actually do look as tragic as I feel on a daily basis.

What gets you morning people motivated to rise and shine like you do? Is there a regime that I can try to make myself more pleasant functional in the mornings? Or am I doomed to mismatched clothes and insane hair until I find a job that lets me get up after 9 am? Your sage advice would be appreciated.

I'm so glad I'm not...

... dating.

My buddy, P, has had her share of horrific dating experiences. Currently, she's on a conversational dating site, and boy oh boy does she get approached by some real winners!

So here is some comic relief to your boring workday, or a cautionary tale to online dating.
P's Dating Disasters is open for business...

Very odd.

She wants me to reiterate that this happens to her in real life, not just in the magical mystery world of the internet.

This one is my absolute favorite:

When, without prior plans, P was asked
"what are we doing Friday night?"
P responded, "I'm sorry, did we make plans?"
The rest, as they say, is history.

Wall of Shame...

uh... thanks?

absolutely not. never. never never never.
especially since you're from New Jersey.

And for my final trick of the evening...

not too sure of yourself are you dude...?
no wonder you deleted your profile...?

Ahh. This is the life.
Until next time, babes... we're out.

Deuces.

the true story of my [pathetic] life

This is, in fact, the true story of my life.

bluesy rain

Today was so stinking wet in NYC.

I'm being forced to work on a weekend, which is absolutely not my cup of tea, as I hate having to dodge eye-poking umbrellas all day. New Yorkers are demons with umbrellas. I feel like I need a hockey mask to walk down the street.

So do I, Snipes.

Tourists are also hilarious in the rain. It's not so unlike rain wherever they're from, I'm sure, but it seems to make them stupid and panicky. And then they poke me with their umbrellas! When the wind finally takes the lives of the umbrellas, out come the ponchos... and then I can't hold in my laughter any longer.

Anyway, in the wake of such a gross day, I've decided to share an oldie but goodie from a sunnier day.  Found stuck to a cement post in Bryant Park, this little gem made me laugh out loud...

So do I, Chicken.

I assume its a PETA ad, or vegan propaganda, but it the image just knocks me out.  I love this angry hen.

Here's to a sunnier fall!!!