Tuesday, January 13, 2009

What's this game called?

(Sorry that this wasn't ready at 6 a.m Aunt Julie...you and Aunt Tina should have an entire conversation about it via the comments area.)

I just read the entirety of Grace's blog and now sufficiently emo to transcribe all of my girl Sylvia's Ariel.

I'm obsessed with ellipses...

Working hard here at Kresge 1-535

I'm having a staring contest with the Labradoodle that lives across the hall from me. He always wins.

Last night Max's girlfriend Mallory "The Canadian" came to dinner. And when I say "came to dinner" I mean she entered into the frenzy and chaos of a Berman/Cutler/Fine/Dhonau/Drucker clusterfuck. We ate Lou Malnati's and I tried to ask her if she was friends with any bears, but Max told me that was inappropriate.


She was extremely nice and polite...bless her heart for not running for the hills when she came into the kitchen on Michigan Ave. and saw all twenty of us standing there waiting for her arrival. Aunt Pat wanted us to go around the room and say our name. I wanted us to go around the room and say our names, do a sweet dance move, and our name favorite fact about Canada. Mine? They still have to pay England for the right to speak English (Fact check me...I learned that from the Daily Show so I could be wrong. But it's a hilarious idea nonetheless). In short, Max denied me the right to have any fun whatsoever.
Question: What's funnier than Canada?
Answer: Nothing.

The hilarity of the evening continued when Grandpa Maury refused to have anyone help him park the car/tell anyone where he was/have anyone help him walking from the car/etc. Steffie was on the phone with him for about twenty minutes - we were using her as bait - and he still didn't show up....About 45 minutes after the initial realization that he wasn't coming with Grandma Flo did he finally walk into the house, covered in snow, and grinning from ear to ear. It was a glorious comeback if I've ever seen one.

The dinner was a success, I believe. We weren't overly embarrassing (I hope ). Only time will tell, I suppose.

Temperature in Evanston, Illinois: 9 degrees; "feels like - 10 degrees". Yep. NEGATIVE TEN. Woof.

There is very little in the world that seems worse than an hour and a half lecture when you're a)so tired than all you want to do is crawl back in bed and never, ever get out and b)haven't done the reading for the class because the Northwestern Library is a huge whore than wants to sabotage your existence.

While rife with sarcasm, this post is less-than witty. I apologize.

Hero of the day: My Hyundai Tucson for overall badass "I don't give a FUCK about snow" attitude, and for making me warm and cozy while i drive Livi to school.

Comment dit-on, "BAMF"?

Currently listening to: iTunes Genius playlist based on "Take me to the Riot" by Stars
Currently reading: PerezHilton.com.... don't judge me.
Currently craving: SLEEP

Peace, Love, and Narcolepsy.



  1. Cutler? Who's Cutler? But anyway thanks for the entry, I was worried that you were buried in a snowdrift, because there would be no other good reason for you to not have completed your assignment. Strong work. See you tomorrow a.m.

  2. Exactly. Cutler? Cutler?
    And excuse me, "nice and polite" is all we get? WTF.

  3. Yes, ...I was counting on some details, some commentary, some humorous insights. Plenty of time...it's only 7:30 pm. Get to work.

  4. friends with a bear. i love it and didn't think it was at all inappropriate.

  5. i just read every post. for the first time. and laughed by myself in my little home.

  6. it's about time you joined the party anne.