u s e y o u r h a n d s

Hello, all. It’s been a pretty frantic week, what with my birthday, snow and the holiday. My take on the snow? It either looks like bits of lace or mutant lice falling from the sky. It’s a health hazard. It requires dogs to wear clothes. It is novel and pretty.

Back to the MC - These Missed Connections are taken from the most recent issue of the Chicago Reader. The stories below them come out of the ads, but aren’t necessarily in response to the ads. Enjoy!

GUILIO CESARE, 10/8. You: cute, color TV repair T-shirt, groovy smile, waiting, reading about Archigram. Me: dark hair and eyes, black turtleneck and jeans, but lighter on the inside. Couldn’t find you again once I lost you. If you like guys and hat tracheotomies, call me.

Formed in 1961 by Peter Cook, Archigram was an iconoclastic reaction to working life in the conservative British architectural firms of the day. An aesthetic alliance of childhood friends, this latter version of “Les Six” formulated their ideas in a magazine called Architectural Telegram, from which their name has been adopted. Along with Cook, Michael Webb, Dennis Crompton, David Green, Warren Chalk, and Ron Herron all believed architecture should be an instrument of social progress that incorporated everything from technology to Pop art to personal freedom. One might say Roy Lichtenstein occupied their minds more than the Bauhaus, as one of their tenets asserts, “The prepacked frozen lunch is more important than Palladio.” source

JACKIE LOOKING FOR Gil. Met you a couple of years back at a bus stop on 19th and Western. I hope you’re still here and not in California. One of our dates was at Crobar. Call me if you remember me.

Most of these ads, I’m convinced, never reach their intended targets. If your MC spots your MC ad, what’s in their mind? Golly! Jackie, on one hand, hoped he’d find Gil and that all would be roses. On the other hand, although Jackie wanted to say he’d tried looking, he hoped Gil would never see the ad. How embarassing. Or maybe how romantic?

EVANSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY, Sunday 11/17. Made eye contact, you sat near me, left at the same time, walked along together until you ducked into Barnes & Noble. Me: cute fat girl, jeans, long dark hair. You: tall, light brown-blond short hair. Looked like you had something to say. What was it?

The tall man wore cologne that filled their corner, reacting oddly with the standard-issue library smell of dust, old paper, and the elderly. The spicy scent, like a drifter arriving in a small backwater, was a strange - but not unwelcome - change. In a doctor’s visit last week, Greg’d learned the freckle on his hand was a melanoma. The doctor burned it off on the spot and warned Greg to be vigilant. He chose the corner of the library for leafing through a medical text will full-color pictures of Australian melanoma patients, faces half-eaten by cancer. He never looked up.

ELECTRIC REDHEAD BROWSING the stacks at Barnes & Noble on Webster. I was looking for something to read when a glint from the pendulum attracted me to you. I am your dark-haired mustachioed opposite who found you stunningly beautiful.

I started this project because I’ve read the MCs for years, looking for an ad about me. I’ll come across ads that sort of sound like me, but due to space constraints, don’t contain necessary details. I was drawn to this ad because I have red(dish) hair and often go to the Webster B&N because it’s next to my gym. The mustachioed often find me stunningly beautiful for it is their way. But a pendulum? Was that the time I was learning to hypnotize men for power and profit? Or was that the time I was reading the pop-up book about Bi-Polar Disorder?

Reading: Just finished Elmer Gantry by Sinclair Lewis. Besides Peedge, he’s my favorite humbug. Halfway through Franny and Zooey.

Eating: I finished a whole pecan pie from Costco. If you’ve ever been to Costco, think about how large that pie must have been.

Starting: A new contract jobbity on Tuesday. Go Schaumburg!

I turn 24 today.

A strange birthday. I know I won’t be doing anything tonight except making dinner with Phineas and maybe going to kickboxing. It’s hard being isolated in a new city. I know I’ve been here seven months or so, but it still feels foreign, still feels unwelcoming.

I’m going to hunker down with some Harry Potter and a nice glass of cheapo champagne. Maybe I’ll take a bath later. There’s nothing more scrumptious than a bath with a cold, bubbly beverage, whatever form it takes.

Oh, I must discuss the lesbian burlesque show briefly. So fabulous. I’ve been quite a burlesque fan for some time, but even more so now. I definitely enjoyed the wild dancer who poured an entire bag of sugar on herself in the course of her dance. I also enjoyed the pasty-twirling pro and I’m very sad I missed out on her workshop at Early to Bed last week. However, my favorite wasn’t a very good dancer, but she was very, very pretty and wore discreet feathers. Yowza!

I was seriously dolled up for the event. The whole thing made me want to participate. Shall I take it off to a medley from Sweet Charity?

Say you, say me!

Eating: Peedge treated me to a cheese danish from the Swedish Bakery. Quelle decadent.

Drinking: Champagne!

Working Out: There are no calories on your birthday. I’m going to kickbox it up this week, even on T-Day.

I turn 24 today.

A strange birthday. I know I won’t be doing anything tonight except making dinner with Phineas and maybe going to kickboxing. It’s hard being isolated in a new city. I know I’ve been here seven months or so, but it still feels foreign, still feels unwelcoming.

I’m going to hunker down with some Harry Potter and a nice glass of cheapo champagne. Maybe I’ll take a bath later. There’s nothing more scrumptious than a bath with a cold, bubbly beverage, whatever form it takes.

Oh, I must discuss the lesbian burlesque show briefly. So fabulous. I’ve been quite a burlesque fan for some time, but even more so now. I definitely enjoyed the wild dancer who poured an entire bag of sugar on herself in the course of her dance. I also enjoyed the pasty-twirling pro and I’m very sad I missed out on her workshop at Early to Bed last week. However, my favorite wasn’t a very good dancer, but she was very, very pretty and wore discreet feathers. Yowza!

I was seriously dolled up for the event. The whole thing made me want to participate. Shall I take it off to a medley from Sweet Charity?

Say you, say me!

Eating: Peedge treated me to a cheese danish from the Swedish Bakery. Quelle decadent.

Drinking: Champagne!

Working Out: There are no calories on your birthday. I’m going to kickbox it up this week, even on T-Day.

These Missed Connections ads were taken from the current issue of the Chicago Reader. I wrote the little stories under the ads in response to reading these ads.

BIKE MESSENGER SPOTTED twice–is it fate? You: male, dark and thin with glasses. I (cute female) spotted you first at the Exit, passed out on the couch upstairs, and then you delivered a package to my work. Pedal back into my life?

After phases as trixie, lipstick lesbian, and pseudo intellectual, Kelly had once again trainsformed herself, this time as punk professional. She’d been to the Exit a few times looking for a cleverly tattooed guy with nice teeth and a college degree. Spotting him on the couch and then in his cute bike messenger uniform, Kelly could easily see him in a nice suit with a cool haircut. With just a little work.

BLACK BOOTS, BLACK hat over your long dark hair, on Chestnut Street with your older blonde friend, waiting for cab on a rainy day. You slapped my butt and told me to get out of the cold. Would have loved to say hello but shy and in hurry. Coffee? Chat? Another tush slap?

She was nervous about the intervention, but seriously hoped that today had been the last time she watched her sister get drunk on tequila over lunch. Trish’s sister Kate is the kind of life-of-the-party gal that’s great to know in college, but as she aged, became a cautionary tale. Kate won’t see this ad in rehab, but Trish saw it and threw it in the recycling.

PUB CRAWL 10/31, Miss Rambo (better known as Rambett). We exchanged a few words. Would like to exchange a few more. Call or E-Match. Raider.

A persistent case of colitis had pretty much killed Beth’s love life, but lately, she’d been giving it a final go. Beth really hoped she’d eventually find a guy who would be nice about it, but she found no takers. Kurt met her briefly at a bar and was enchanted by her quiet reserve. Beth tentatively replied to this ad. After several really good dates, Beth finally told him about her problem. Shrugging, he asked what the big deal was.

Eating: A chicken biryani meal from Trader Joe’s. I fucking love you Trader Joe’s.

Working Out: 40 min of cardio this morn.

Wanting: Warm goat cheese over Carr’s water crackers. Nummy.

Today, I ate a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese, half a pan of fat-free brownies, and a cheese danish. If I had the gumption, I’d go vomit. But I don’t want to have to brush my teeth again and blow noodles out of my nose.

Christ on a cracker, who turned on this POS station in my United Airlines bunker office? Usually, someone cool gets in first and switches on WXRT, but occasionally, I have to endure the assault of 100.3. Already this morning, I’ve had to endure aural battery from Mariah Carey, Sting, and Amy Grant. Somebody call the UN.

I mentioned briefly yesterday during my latest “I hate Chicago” rant that Trader Joe’s is now open. We went back to the Joe’s yesterday to pick up some cheapo bottles of wine, more veggie rice bowls for Peedge’s lunch, and bread. Poor Joe’s looks like it got ransacked! Most aisles were empty, such is the enthusiasm Lakeview residents have for the Joe’s.

Why is Trader Joe’s a good store to support? They provide all employees with benefits and a 401-K. Buyers locate good seasonal products and purchase in bulk, then actually pass savings on to the customer. Joe’s refuses to sell GMO products. It’s the only source of affordable organic goods around. You’ve got to get a second mortgage to shop at Whole Foods or Treasure Island on a regular basis. Joe’s is good fare at a fair price.

Be sure to stop by the Official Grand Opening Party at Trader Joe’s this Friday. I’ve been assured there’s going to be a ton of free samples, both nummy and savory.

In other news, to combat my Seasonal Affective Disorder, I’ve purchased and installed full-spectrum plant lights in our living room and at work. Normally, I live in fear of the fall time change - DFW would say “howling fantods” - because the lack of light sends me into a catatonic melancholia. It’s a truly serious and profound change. However, thanks to some good device from my friend Ben, a transplanted Angeleno attending medical school in Dublin, I purchased the plant lights as a cheapo alternative to a light box. Take that, winter blues!

I have developed a love, a deep abiding affection, for coffee. Oh, coffee! Even though you taste like poo, I love you because you take the place of breakfast. Thank you for steering me away from United’s tempting array of nummy goods (which I’d never eat anyway, but still) and giving me a pleasant low-level buzz. Shiny!

Working Out: Did 40 minutes of cardio at the stinkiest BTF!

Eating: Last night, I added three cups of chopped portabello, two cups of chopped asparagus, and a cup of chopped roasted chestnuts to a portabello mushroom soup. Nums, especially with some dill, basil, and a tad of cinnamon. We also ate way too much bread. And some soy ice cream.

Doing: Tonight is a Dinnergrrls event at Buca di Beppo. I’m excited!

Most people talk about Chicago with self-righteous reverence, like it’s the center of all things good. New York without the trash and San Francisco without the hippies.

I’m having a really hard time mustering any love for a city that tries so hard to kick me in the teeth on a regular basis.

I won’t go into detail again about my DMV woes and $200 outlay.

I won’t recount the tale of the ticket I got months ago for absolutely no reason and successfully fought.

I won’t even begin to ask why, in a city full of micks, you can’t buy liquor until 11 on Sundays. Like Jesus would mind if you took the edge off the Sabbath.

I won’t comment again on the shitty, shitty economy that hasn’t even given me an interview in eight months.

I will, however, get pissed off about “city stickers.” Why did the citizens with big shoulders lay down for this outrage? City stickers? Please, let me be the first in line to pay the city $75 to pay for a permit that allows me to park where I ACTUALLY LIVE, where I pay taxes and rent, buy food, clothes, etc. Please, let me do that just so you can have some more cash with which to slap the mayor’s name on stuff.

I will also comment about how you can’t actually view the municipal code online. The city’s web site posts the municipal code for opening an adult business, but won’t even consider posting the many municipal codes for traffic violations. Fuck you, City Clerk.

This is an attractive city with some fine museums and good restaurants. But I don’t like it here. I just don’t get why people put up with all the bullshit of living here just to complain about the heat in the summer and cold in the winter.

I’m having a hard time. If this sounds harsh, remember that whenever I say how unhappy I am here, I’m on the verge of crying. Maybe that will make you respond with some kind words instead of some flippant crack.

Eating: Sammitch. Trader Joe’s is open and I am happy.

Exercising: Kboxing tonight. Crying into a pillow later??

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