A decade of New Year's Eves

Everybody's doing countdowns to commemorate the end of a decade. So in honor of New Year's Eve, I'll run through what I've done on the most overrated night of the year. These are in order of the year, not in order of how much fun I had. I'll keep that to myself, so I don't hurt anybody's feelings. The year is the one we rang in, not the one we left.

2000: A guy I knew in high school had a party at his parents' house. My, how times have changed. I'm not sure if his parents knew he was having a party. I don't know that I brought anything. But this was the debut of the backless shirt, later to be known as my JLO shirt. Freshman year of college, I bashed girls who wore those so bad, calling them slutty. Suddenly, I was on board. This shirt was H.O.T. It was magenta satin and, obviously, tied in the back. It would pave the way for later backless shirts that included: a purple cotton one from The Limited; a metallic one someone gave me (too slutty for them, I guess); and a leather-inspired one Neha gave me. The evening was enjoyable and I remember everybody checking the TV to see if Y2K was really going to blow up the world.

2001: Boyfriend at the time was obsessed with the University of Iowa. Friend Stefanie went to school there. Let's go. Only problem: no car. Boyfriend didn't have one (lucky me). Stefanie didn't have one. I had one but John Sod was putting the kibosh on me driving it. My cousins still quote him saying "My cars don't go to Iowa." Even though this was my car - I bought it off them - thus giving them power over how it was used. The day before NYE, Stefanie went to her waitressing job at Rainforest Cafe, and her boss offered to let her drive his car to Iowa City. She went home and told her mom, who, I think, said if she was planning on doing that, she shouldn't come home. Steffie didn't care, and we were on our way. We ran into a problem on the way there when the glove compartment wouldn't close, and we were afraid the light inside would run out the battery. Not sure how we fixed it. We walked into Stefanie's apartment, and it was so messy that boyfriend seriously said, "Oh my God, you've been robbed." But we had a really fun time dancing at The Union.

2002: This was the NYE in which all NYEs would be measured against. None of us were 21, but we had all been in college for more than two years, so it's fair to say we enjoyed a cocktail or two on the illegal. My high school girls and I went down to University of Illinois to spend a night in a land where you only need to be 19 to enter the bars. We all strapped on our go-go boots and headed to Clybourne, where insanity ensued. I can't even say most of the stuff that happened that night because people's moms, including my own, read this blog. Just mark my word, it was a time.

2003: Now we're 21!!! Went to VooDoo Lounge, a now defunct club in Schaumburg. A friend of ours had connections at the La Quinta Inn, so we got a free room next door. Stefanie and I made sure we secured boys to smooch for the ball drop so we had a good time (even though those guys didn't get the message that once the smooch was done, so were we). But the other girls we were with didn't have much fun and ended up retiring to the room to watch a "Sex and the City" marathon. Only snag was when VooDoo smooch guy called me a week later and wanted to take me on a date. I told him waiting a week to call a girl was ridiculous and told him no.

2004: Worst NYE ever. I had moved to North Carolina a couple months prior, didn't know anybody, and sat at home. Sad face.

2005: First NYE downtown experience. Paid $80 for some appetizers, a glass of champagne and an open bar at Lincoln Station. Spent most of the night on the phone with jealous new boyfriend. However, this was the first time I met Heather's now husband Jason. At breakfast New Year's Day, Heather kept telling us she was going to marry him and, since we had heard that before, we didn't believe her. I made her sign a statement on the back of an order form. They've been married two years and have a baby!

2006: Another horrible night. Paid $100 to go to a swanky party in the lobby of a high rise downtown. Open bar, tons of food, lots o' people. Only problem: I was severely hung over from the night before. I went to see "Brokeback Mountain" with my mom, aunt and cousin and went home and had pizza and my famous melon martinis. Many many melon martinis. Needless to say, it was the one time in my life an open bar was not making me loony tunes.

2007: Kept it low-key that year. Made dinner and drank at Heather and Jason's apartment in the city. Things got hairier when some guys from high school showed up wasted. Then went on an adventure with Moogs that went awry.

2008: Another top night. Kept it real in Fort Wayne and went out for a nice dinner and to a bar. Highlight of the night was when I was dancing with a bottle of beer in my hand. I was waving my hands in the air and ended up pouring beer on my head. But in my drunken state, I was convinced someone was standing above me pouring water on me. Boyfriend at the time had to correct me and say "No, silly, YOU'RE the one pouring beer on yourself." So in every picture, I look like I shot-up heroin: glassy eyes and wet hair. Boyfriend and I closed down a dive bar called Billy's Dugout, cleaned out their buffet, used our literally last three dollars to buy cans of beer (boyfriend had to borrow money from a random guy to tip). I spent the last minutes chatting with a black guy in a leprechaun hat.

2009: Went to Heather's and made dinner. Food was excellent, but I was in one of my non-drinking moods.

2010: My friend Meghan is coming to Fort Wayne from Chicago to hit up the town with some Hoosiers. Pre-dinner cocktails at my place; to Catablu for dinner with a group of people; then downtown for some boozin' and dancing. Pray for another top night!

A Very Merry Raidy Christmas

This is the first year my brother hasn't been at my parents' house Christmas morning. He moved into a condo a couple months ago, so he chose to sleep in his own bed Christmas Eve instead of on the couch. It's very weird.

My mom is making breakfast, and we're drinking coffee waiting for Danny to get here so we can open presents. Not that he would've been up at this hour (before 9 a.m.) in the previous couple years anyway. As Danny and I have gotten older, the hour we wake up on Christmas morning has gotten later and later. I used to be so excited by the prospect of presents that I would, no joke, saunter downstairs around 3:30 a.m. to check everything out and then restlessly fall back asleep until my parents woke up. Then I'd be up around 6 a.m. I couldn't stand it anymore.

The rule in our house is you can look through your stockings but have to wait for everybody to wake up before opening presents. this can make for late mornings, given my parents' tendency to have a cocktail or two (Or many, like the infamous Christmas Eve of 2003 where Uncle Kevin fell down in the kitchen, giving himself a black eye; Chris's hair was wild and unruly; and my dad climbed into my cousin's bed to spend the night, prompting Danny and I to say he was ruining Christmas. The Crown Royal shots were flowing that night. As insanity ensued upstairs, the of-drinking age kids were downstairs playing "Lord of the Rings" chess.

When you're younger, you're so excited to get STUFF. Any kind of STUFF. This year, I'm more excited to see what everybody thinks of the gifts I bought. My mom picked out her own gift, a heart monitor that counts the number of calories you burn when you work out. I bought my brother some stuff for his new place and "The Hangover," which I hope we watch after. The wild card is my dad, as is the case every year.

He asked for a Green Machine, which is to carpet cleaning as the Dustbuster is to vacuuming. He told me I could find it for $29.99 at the WalMart. My mom said he was stuck in the 1970s, and it would no-doubt be more expensive. So, I'm thinking it'll be around $40 or so. Imagine my surprise when WalMart has it on sale for $79.99. It wasn't the cost that got me, it was the fact that my dad was so off on the price. Then again, he thinks jeans should still cost $10.

I also ordered my dad a flannel shirt from L.L. Bean. Normal gift, right? No. My dad will only wear flannels that are not 100 percent cotton. Try finding this mysterious creation. I'm convinced it doesn't exist. It's like he's JLO requesting only green M&Ms in a jar. He wants a blended fabric because he says they don't shrink. Legend has it my grandma used to be able to find the shirts for him. Every time I'm in the men's department anywhere, you'll find me checking the tags of flannel shirts. So I found a shirt on L.L. Bean.com that claims it will never ever ever shrink. It's still 100 percent cotton so this will be quite the experiment at the Soderlund house.

I'll let you know how it goes.

The day will be spent at my aunt and uncle's house having a Very Merry Raidy Christmas. It's the best damn Christmas dinner you've ever had. The tradition started a long time ago with my cousin Jon, who owns his own restaurant. Jon made us prime rib and the freakin bestest estest twice-baked potatoes you've ever had in your life. (I'm quite hyperbolic in this post, I realize). So after a meal of prime rib, twice-baked potatoes, asparagus and hollandaise sauce, Uncle Ron usually makes a show with some bananas foster in the kitchen. The crowd oooos and aaaas as the alcohol hits the pan and it erupts in flames.

A mean game of White Elephant grab bag is next where, to steal a line from my cousin Christopher, "there will be bloodshed."

Merry Christmas!

Running on full

A couple months ago I made the grand statement that I was going to start running every morning I could before work. I'm very proud to say I've stuck with that. My rule is if I start work at 9 a.m. or later, I set my alarm to run. Sure, there's been a handful of times I'll hit snooze and skip it altogether. But for the most part, I've stuck to it.

And I've become one of those assholes I hate, who say "Oh, it felt so good to run today, wa wa wa." I was hoping I would hate it to much I could throw in the towel and resolve myself to the fact that I am not someone who needs to exercise. But, running before work gives me awesome energy throughout the day. And it makes me freakin' HUNGRY! I think my metabolism is speeding up, so I just want to eat eat eat.

I'm not a big breakfast person. I usually just have a 90 calorie breakfast bar. Last week, I had that after my run but by the time I left work I was like Chris Farley on Saturday Night Live: "LAY OFF I'M STARVING!!!" I had to stop at Starbucks and get a breakfast sandwich just to survive until lunch. Fitness guru Janice Soderlund says you keep burning calories for awhile after you work out, so maybe I was OK.

I was running 3-4.5 miles outside for awhile, but it got too cold for the princess so I've been going to the gym. I run for 30 minutes every morning, and it usually equals out to 2.75 miles. I'm not sure if I've lost any weight, because I refuse to weigh myself. I've noticed a difference in my legs and around my collar bone but that's about it. Oh well.

It's also been a good opportunity to see the characters that go to the gym at my apartment complex. My favs are the guy who looks like John Locke from "Lost" (who I told this to and he was quite flattered, even though he had never heard of "Lost), and the guy who looks like Bunsen from The Muppet Show.

The picture above looks like I'm running, but it's really just me and Al outside of a Cuban restaurant in Florida.

Tickets to the First Lady Gun Show

And the most fascinating person is .... Michelle Obama.

I'm meh on this choice. Barack was the most fascinating last year, and I'm not that fascinated by his wife. I feel like I learned everything I'd need to know about her when she was vetted for the campaign.

Don't get me wrong, I really like her. I think she's a great example for the tough choice many women have regarding whose career should be put first: theirs or their husband's. You'd think it's a no-brainer when your husband wants to run for president. But they had two kids, supposedly had student loans they only recently paid off and she was making bank at her job.

This is a woman who graduated from Princeton University then Harvard Law School. She went on to be a lawyer, work on Mayor Daley's staff and was ultimately a top administrator for the University of Chicago Medical Center. She made a helluva a lot more money than Barack did when she was a hospital administrator and he was in the Senate. And Michelle's admitted she wasn't too keen on him pursuing politics. I like that she doesn't put Barack on a pedestal and acts like any other wife does with her husband. She's kind of over him, in a way.

You could say Michelle became the nation's top housewife. She went from making nearly a quarter of a million dollars a year to planting stuff in the White House backyard and having everybody wonder who puts together her outfits. But I kind of admire the way she does it; in a way where you don't think she sacrificed anything to be in this role.

I'm sure my Uncle Mike is reading this and imagining sugary syrup just pouring from my fingers as I type. So I'll throw him a bone. I don't think her arms are that great. They're OK, but I think there are celebrities whose gun show I'd buy tickets to first. Her arms look like she could give me a mean right hook, but that's not attractive to me. I like less muscular arms, give me long and lean. Like Gisele.

My mom is apparently first in line for Sarah Jessica Parker's gun show, but I'll pass on that too.

My take on Baba Wawa's most fascinating peeps

I haven't blogged for awhile. Sorry. I get home from work and am so drained from writing I get exhausted even thinking about continuing it.

But I'm back. And I'm going to try to write more often.

So .... here's my take on Barbara Walter's Most Fascinating People this year.

*Jenny Sanford: The South Carolina governor's wife stayed with her husband despite him having an affair with another woman. That sentence doesn't even begin to explain the shenanigans this guy pulled. He went from being MIA to walking the Appalachian Trail to being found in Argentina. Then he admits to an affair with a woman, who, from what I read, he only hung out with like four times. Oh, and she's apparently his soul mate. I found it hilarious an Associated Press reporter approached him at an airport to ask for an interview, and he sat and talked with her for TWO HOURS and spilled his guts. I guess his wife was selected for the list because people may be fascinated with why she stood by her husband. I try not to judge. Her husband kicked it old school and admitted to his infidelity. Hopefully Tiger was watching Babs's show and taking notes.
*Tyler Perry: I have never seen any of his movies. Nor do I have any desire to see Madea's Xmas Parade or whatever they're called. They remind of me the Ernest movies. But that's what I find awesome: I have barely heard of this guy, never seen any of his movies and yet he is a freakin' gazillionaire.
*Lady Gaga: "Mission accomplished," is probably what she's thinking about being chosen for the show. Her goal has been to fascinate people. I must admit that I am quite fascinated with anyone who can make Kermit the Frog into a costume. Barbara asked if she was bisexual and all I thought was "Duh, yes." What she didn't ask was whether Gaga is a hermaphrodite. Now that question is fascinating.
*Kate Gosselin: Ugh. First of all, she looks like she's fresh off having a face-lift or some sort of plastic surgery. I don't know that I'm exactly fascinated by her. I'm more fascinated by the Jon and Kate machine. Or just the kids. Them by themselves kind of make me vomit in my mouth a little. I think they should be on a list called "The 10 People Most Fascinated with Themselves."
*Sarah Palin: Ugh. Next.
*Glenn Beck: I don't pay attention to him at all. So, not fascinated.
*Adam Lambert: So gay and so fab. I appreciate he doesn't apologize for his performance. I was not at all offended by it. I don't agree with ABC/Disney blurring out his boy on boy kiss. I'm not sure they should've shown him simulating oral sex on prime time. But I do understand why they were upset with is performance, because they said it changed drastically from what they saw in rehearsals. I can appreciate them spending millions of dollars on this broadcast and wanting to know what was going to happen. This all happened on ABC and Barbara's show is on ABC, so who had the last laugh? He shouldn't have any regrets, his name's in your mouth.
*Brett Favre: Pick a team and stick with it. Retire and stick with it. His wishy-washiness is not fascinating to me. He's like a rapper that retires every two years.
*Michael Jackson's kids: I'm watching this as I'm blogging and their segment better not be a promotion for the Jackson brothers' upcoming reality show on A&E (although I'm planning on watching).

I'm too sleepy to stay up for the most fascinating. Stay tuned on what I think ...

Juno Beach

I just got back from a mother-daugther trip to Florida. I went with my mom, family friend Gail and her daughter Adrienne, both whom I've known my whole life. My family owns a condo in Juno Beach, which is about 20 minutes north of West Palm Beach. I actually lived there for a summer my junior year of college while I interned at a newspaper.

It was about five days of serene relaxation. We sat by the pool/beach every day all day, went out to dinner then came back to the condo to drink and play games. I was in bed before midnight every night and up by 8 a.m. It was awesome.

But of course it wasn't without its hijinks. Here are some highlights.

*Having a nice buzz getting on the airplane in Chicago
*Discovering our plane had individual TVs for each seat. I played trivia with the rest of the plane and watched "Barefoot Contessa."
*Carrying my huge and heavy duffel bag through the Atlanta airport. On my shoulder at one point. My mom stole my usual carry-on bag and, I am a woman, so I had a lot of stuff to bring. I checked it on the way home. However, I only brought six pairs of shoes.
*Walking into The Breakers Hotel - the swankiest hotel on Palm Beach - and being CONVINCED Mickey Rourke was sitting next to us. Turns out it was just a greasy Russian.
*My mom stealing nice towels from The Breakers bathroom. We chastised her but they came in handy when we were cleaning up the condo and wanted to wash all the hand towels.
*Captain Bob, our tour guide on our boat trip on the intercoastal. He had a story for every mansion on the waterway. Very informative and I highly recommend it.
*Trying to explain Catchphrase to my mom and Gail. You would've thought we were explaining how to reprogram a nuclear bomb. Instead, they wanted to play Liverpool Rummy: a game they not only didn't remember the rules to but is much more complicated than Catchphrase.
*Gail hustling everybody in Yahtzee. Who gets three Yahtzees in one game?
*Me getting sun poisoning on the third day. This doesn't happen every vacation but it's happened before. I get a very itchy rash on random parts of my body. This time it was my chest and my legs. I promptly put myself indoors and napped and shopped the rest of the day.
*Watching the cougars at The Waterway Cafe. It's a cute restaurant right on the boat waterway. Boats dock and people have dinner or drinks. It was FILLED with women in their late 30s, early 40s chasing after men wearing polo shirts tucked into Bermuda shorts with loafers. Men in their late 60s, early 70s.
*Reading and finishing the book "Flash Forward." IT's the novel the new TV show is based on. Everybody passes out for about 90 seconds and sees their life 20 years in the future. I highly recommend it. Robert J. Sawyer is the author.
*The waiter at Kee Grill who was ready to cut us off after we ordered our third bottle of wine. We told him we were walking, not driving, and it was game on.
*Me being CONVINCED Janice Dickinson was sitting next to me on the flight home. I literally had to rationalize it to myself. OK, it's coach. Janice probably wouldn't sit in coach. And she's in the middle seat. Talk about the worst place in coach. And she has a wedding ring. I don't think Janice is married. But I wouldn't give it up. She got up to go to the bathroom and I told my mom and she said, "No way." Finally she spoke and it wasn't that raspy Top Model voice I'm used to. Cut to me and my mom walking through the airport. She points out a woman and goes "Now THAT looks like Janice Dickinson." Yeah: same woman sitting next to me on the plane.

Gettin' my nails did

I've often said, "Never trust a girl who doesn't paint her toe nails." I think I still feel that way. I understand not everybody can afford to get a pedicure every six weeks (or month), but I do think women should keep their toes presentable.

On that note, I probably can't afford to get pedicures as often as I do, but as I always say, "I'm worth it." To be fair, I only do it during the spring/summer when I'm wearing sandals or when I'm about to go on vacation.

I'm leaving for Florida Tuesday, so I got my toes ready today. I went to Nail Love; your typical Asian nail salon, and they do a hell of a job. $20 with a $4 tip, and my toes look lovely.

A couple things during the experience made me chuckle today. First was the massage chair I sat in. Sure it had the typical back massager, but it also massaged ... other parts. Namely, my coolie and my chi chi. I looked around and none of the other women getting their toes done had exercised their right to get a back massage in the process. And it's pretty obvious I'm getting the full treatment, because every time it rubbed "down there," the chair let out a loud noise as if it was puffing air. And I couldn't figure out how to turn it off!

Almost every time I get a pedicure, the ladies ask me if I also want a manicure. I've never had a manicure other than the fake nails I wore at prom (which ended up underneath the table and all around our cabin in the Wisconsin Dells). I pick my nails and chip the polish very easy, and it's a lot more expensive to maintain a manicure than it is a pedicure. So I always say no. Today, the ladies really worked me over.

The owner came and sat down next to the girl who was working on my feet and asked how I was doing. This led to the obligatory question of whether I also wanted a manicure. I said no but thank you. She said it'll be really easy, we'll do such and such with your cuticles and just put a clear polish on it. Nothing fancy. No, but thank you, I said. Then she turned to the other woman and said something in a different language, and they both looked at me and smiled. "Your nails are so nice," she said. If they're so nice, why the heck do I need a manicure, I thought. Then she gave me the sales pitch again. Again, I said no, but thank you. "Maybe next time," she said. Then she said something to the other woman in a different language again. They both laughed. I'm convinced it was something about me.

I felt like Elaine in "Seinfeld."

First birthdays

I went to Cooper Lanka's 1st birthday party today, and he did not disappoint. Cooper is the super duper adorable son of my co-worker, work spouse and friend Ben and his wife, and my Sparkle Twin, Erin.

He had a mild meltdown when they put a birthday hat on him while we sang "Happy Birthday," but who can blame him? Who wants to wear a cone hat with a tight string around your neck anyway?

Once the hat came off it was game on. They sat him down in his high chair and gave him a monster cupcake all for himself. Cooper was a little weirded out at first; I think more by the crowd of paparazzi/family standing in front of him than the actual cupcake. But once he tasted that sugar, it was on like Donkey Kong. Like any man, Cooper decided eating with his hands was too time consuming. So he shoved his face into the frosted cupcake and munched that way. We were all in tears it was so hilarious.

Then it was presents time, where he became more fascinated by tissue paper and a box with a picnic kit inside than anything. There was also an all out war between Ben and Erin's families to see who could give him better gear from Ben and Erin's respective colleges (University of Dayton and Xavier).

It made me think of my first birthday ... or what I've heard about it. I believe I wasn't too into the crowd in my grandparents' backyard, so I demanded my parents hang out front with me. I started rollin' VIP at an early age.

It also made me look forward to three first birthdays I'll get to celebrate next year. Heather and Jason are having their baby Tuesday; and Lauren and Justin and Janine and Jason (two separate couples, not some weird polygamous union) are actually due on the same day: December 11. Two boys (Schwartz's and Miller's) and one unknown (the mysterious Franciose's).

Bernard Mysker ...

... is my grandpa. My mom's dad. And sometimes, I think he's a Martian. Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with him. Even when he's grumpy and snaps at my mom or her brother or sister, if I say something, he's sweet as sugar. But the best part of hanging out with my grandpa, 82, is discovering the vast number of things he is confused about or has no idea exist.

See for yourself:
*There's a rumor he didn't know who The Beatles were. This, despite the fact that his two daughters went and saw "Help" at the theater and screamed their asses off when Paul came on the screen.
*He thought a CD was "certificate of deposit." Which, I suppose he's right, but he had no idea a CD also played music.
*He didn't know what STD stood for. "In my day we called it The Clap." When I laughed that he didn't know this, he said "I don't watch that MTV crap."
*He saw a commercial for a movie that wasn't even in the theaters yet and thought it was airing on CBS that night.
*We were in Hawaii and went out to lunch. I ordered nachos. My food comes, and he's just staring at my plate with a confused look on his face. Finally, he says "Kelly, what is a nach-o?" Had never heard of them. The catch here was these weren't your traditional nachos, they were Hawaiian nachos and had shredded pork and different toppings. So I had the task of trying to explain that while these were nachos, they were different than what he might order at any other restaurant. "Can I try one?" he asked. He grabs a chip, inspects it as if he just discovered a black pearl in a Hawaiian mine and puts it in his mouth. It was like watching a baby taste something for the first time.
*My mom and aunt bought him a cell phone so he could quit using calling cards when he contacted them from Florida. But a cell phone only works when you turn it on. When he does turn it on, it's for a minimal amount of time and then he turns it off again. I think he's convinced it's costing him thousands of dollars. Before he got his cellie, I was showing him mine and explaining how a plan worked. He was convinced I was getting ripped off. I explained I got 900 free minutes every month and he said "Nothing's free. They're getting their money somewhere." Every time he uses it, he holds it like it's a nuclear bomb or a grenade and never remembers specifically how he placed the call.
*Didn't know what a smoothie was ...

... which brings me to the next generation. My dad, 54, also didn't know what a smoothie was. "Is it like that crap you get at 7-11?" "No, that's a Slurpie." My dad has expressed similar characteristics to my grandpa and is also clueless about many things in pop culture.
*When asked if he'd ever eaten at Quizno's, he replies, "Isn't that the same thing as Kinko's?" The best part is he works for Federal Express, which owns Kinko's.
*Calls the iPhone a "Google Machine."
*"What's a Beyonce?"

There are many more stories for each that wouldn't translate into text. I hope none of this comes off as mocking or mean-spirited, since I know my kids and grandkids will probably be telling the same stories about me.

Fort Wayne faves (bleh)

Fort Wayne Newspapers, the parent company behind my newspaper, recently published a special section titled "Readers Picks Best Of." Despite the redundant name, I took great issue with some of the winners.

Residents were asked about their favorites in a variety of areas: mechanics, restaurants, clothing stores, coffee shops - you get the idea.

I try not to be condescending to my fellow Hoosiers. I realize it's cool in Chicago to poke fun of people who live in Indiana, but I've lived enough places to realize there are stupid, ridiculous, white trash people anywhere you live. Head about three miles inland from the paradise that is the Florida coastline, and you'll see what I mean.

But if I were traveling to Fort Wayne on business or pleasure? or looking to move here and picked up a copy of this section, I would probably vomit a little in my mouth.

I'm not just bitter that I wasn't chosen favorite newspaper columnist (Damn you Frank Gray!!) But here's what I'm talking about:

*There was actually a favorite gynecologist category. How have people been to enough gynos to choose a favorite here?

*Freakin' Chico's took the top spot in the women's clothing category. I know Michael Phelps' mom was recently here (Chico's spokeswoman) but I think that winner clearly spelled out the median age in Fort Wayne.

*Favorite downtown restaurant: Coney Island. For those of you not lucky enough to live in the Summit City, Coney Island is a hot dog joint. Chicago people: you'd probably hate it. As much as we revere our hot dogs in the Windy City, it's hard to make the switch to the Coney Island. They're hard to compare, because they're completely different: hot dog with a chili sauce, onions and mustard. I digress ... my issue is not with the food itself, it's that there are a host of downtown restaurants with better food and atmosphere I feel should've taken this prize. The end.

*Italian restaurant: Casa. OK, here I go. Fort Wayne peeps LOVE them some Casa. It's a chain Italian restaurant. A lot nicer than Fazoli's but, in my opinion, not that good. I realize I'm spoiled coming from a mom who made Italian food and a city with a enough dago's who know how to make real spaghetti and meatballs. This place has gravy that makes me want to puke. Every time I go, I usually get the salad, which is very delicious but deceivingly high in calories.

*Place for business lunch. Third place went to .... Penn Station. I don't think there any of these hot sub places in Chicago but think of taking a client to Quizno's and you get the drift.

*Best place to get a steak: Texas Roadhouse. Good restaurant but I can think of nicer places to get my meat fix than a chain.

:)

Housekeeping

Housekeeping (high pitched voice) ...

I changed the settings on the blog, so anybody can leave comments. Previously, you had to register with one of several miscellaneous sites to be able to leave a comment. This isn't Hitler's Germany! Let anybody comment!

Some people have asked if they can receive an e-mail to let them know if I've updated. I think I found a setting where I can input people's e-mails, but I don't want to force-feed anybody. I'm going to put a bunch of people in, and if you're not interested in getting an update e-mail (it's not like I'm blogging every second of the day-I'm no Perez ... yet ...heh heh heh) let me know, and I'll take you off.

That rapper

I won't rehash what happened at the MTV Video Music Awards with Kanye West vs. Taylor Swift. The point of this post is that every other media outlet - talk shows, blogs, magazines, newspapers, etc. - has rehashed what happened over and over and over again, and it's only feeding the madness that is Kanye's ego.

I'm less surprised Kanye stormed the stage and stole the spotlight and more disappointed in how big of a deal the press has made it today. It's not that I expect anybody to ignore it. It's definitely news when, during a live broadcast, one of the most famous rappers steals the spotlight from a 17-year-old country music singer who is genuinely excited to be winning that award. But I'm just sick of the media giving into Kanye's consistant pleas for attention.

He's done this before and will do it again. George Bush doesn't like black people, he said during the Hurricane Katrina telethon. He claimed he'd never be on MTV again after Britney Spears was selected to open the 2007 Video Music Awards instead of him. Kanye grabbed the microphone at the MTV Europe Music Awards when he didn't win some award. (Apparently getting a Moon Man is high on Kanye's Bucket List).

I'm convinced arrogance is rooted in insecurity, and he is the poster child for that. For some reason, I think Kanye doesn't think his music or his talent will gain him the publicity or accolades he feels he deserves, so he resorts to publicity stunts and mouthing off in the press to gain attention. And it works!

His name is on everybody's lips today. But the mistake Kanye made this time is not only is his name on everybody's lips, but Taylor Swift's is too. I couldn't have named a song by her prior to Sunday night. But after that spectacle, I was really impressed she was able to perform about 10 minutes later. And now I like that little song she sings. I heard it in the car today and rocked out like it was Hall & Oates (well, maybe not that hard). My point is, if I'm that succeptible to teen pop music, others probably are too.

In my opinion, this is really good publicity for Kanye. I'm pretty sure his album is dying out (I can't think of a current song on the radio) and it's a good way to get his name out. Numerous media outlets reference the apology he made on his blog and I'll bet that blog gets thousands more hits today because of that. That leads to people surfing around on the blog, reading other stuff about him and his music.

I wish there was a way for the media to take a stand and only minimally cover his future outbursts.

The bad girls twins

This is for Lauren, who wants formal commentary on the similarities between Cara from "The Real World-Chicago" and Jon Gosselin's girlfriend Hailey Glassman.

They do look alike huh?

Personalities possibly similar too. Both Jewish. Both definitely slutty. Cara went through her share of guys while on the show and was shocked, (just shocked!) when she figured out cameras filmed her having sex. That was the 11th season of "The Real World" - the jig is up. There are cameras everywhere silly girl! As far as Hailey, she's trying to portray herself as supportive girlfriend of the year by staying out of the media (smart choice except for her E! interview-other outlets might not have ponied up the cash) and just hanging out with Jon at home. But she's only 22; not that far removed from those pictures taken at Indiana University (damn Hoosiers) where she's holding a gun to someone's head, holding her boobs in almost every picture and sticking her tongue out as much as Heather did when she got a tongue ring (Love ya Lil' O!).

Lauren, Moogs and I actually have a special connection to the Chicago season of "The Real World." When we heard they were filming, we drove into the city and stalked the house. All that involved was driving around the block a couple times and getting on the same page about how we would act if we ran into one of them. Lauren's been known to get rather ridiculous when it comes to B- and under-list celebrities (ref: The David Spade Incident of 2001) so Moogs and I knew we had to set ground rules.

The Suicide Pact

I made a suicide pact with Kit and Amanda last Halloween. We were sitting in the car, in costume, and promised each other we wouldn't spend next Halloween together because we'd be living in different cities with different jobs. They'll be in Vegas this Halloween, and I'll be in Fort Wayne. But none of us have new jobs so it looks like they're diving off the Stratosphere, and I'm doing myself in with pills.

It's no secret I am looking for a job in the Chicago area. When I started applying early last summer, I had NO IDEA it would take this long. Of course, I picked the ultimate perfect time to search for employment. Not only am I looking for a job, but so are hundreds, if not thousands, of journalists who have been laid-off.

I visit your average journalism job sites: JournalismJobs, MediaBistro and all of the media companies' Web sites. But so does every other out-of-work journalist. Who have more experience than me. At bigger papers. As far as the newspaper world, I am limiting myself to basically three newspapers, the Sun-Times, Tribune and Daily Herald, so I automatically put myself at a disadvantage. I'd consider Milwaukee and just applied for a job in Madison, Wisc. on a whim.

Don't get me wrong. I'm very thankful to even have a job. If I didn't, Chachi and I would pack up and move back to Casa de Soderlund, only to be left a chore list every day that would no doubt include: hauling wood from one area of our house to the other (for no given reason); possibly mowing or aerating the lawn (though my dad would come home and redo it himself anyway); and various combinations of my all time favorite tasks of dusting, vacuuming and cleaning the bathroom.

I'm thankful but sick of living on NOTHING. I don't feel like a grown up. I'm sick of throwing my money away on rent and am envious of my big girl friends who own their own homes and have lots of money to decorate.

So I've thought of other areas of communication I could work in. Namely, public relations. That was a big deal to shift my mindset toward applying for PR job. In journalism school, you're taught that PR people are the devil. When you become a journalist, you learn they nearly are. And it just seems .... boring compared to what I'm used to. I've applied for a handful of jobs that seem slightly interesting. I just applied for a couple jobs at Harpo Productions (Oprah's company) that got me excited. And I wouldn't mind doing PR for a college or school districts. But corporate PR makes me want to vomit.

I'm taking suggestions for the perfect pill combination.

Eat it, bridesmaid dress!!

I may look super jolly in this picture. And, for the most part, I am. While I was overjoyed that Lauren was getting married, I was quite physically uncomfortable.

In the months leading up to Lauren's wedding, it apparently escaped me I would have to fit into a dress. So when I put it on the day of, it was to my surprise and dismay that it took two girls to stuff me into it. I was quite uncomfortable most of the day until the booze kicked in.

I refuse to let this happen again. So when my college roommate Sarah called me last night and asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding, I knew I had to make some changes.

The unthinkable happened: I set my alarm to go running this morning. I have come to accept that I'm nearly unable to work out when I get home from work at night. First, I don't get home until after 6 p.m. most nights and by then, I'm hungry and drained and just want to lay on the couch and check Facebook and watch TV. So when I do work out, it's usually in the morning. I go to school board meetings one to two nights a week so I don't start work until 1 p.m., leaving me plenty of time for a workout. But this isn't enough. So, I'm going to try running in the morning. Now don't get too crazy. Don't be thinking I'm setting my alarm for 5:30 a.m. Journalists notoriously start work later, and I don't start until 10 a.m. today, so I was able to wake up at 7:30 a.m.

And ... it actually felt good. I'm hoping to have more energy throughout the day. I ran about 2 miles and it took me about 35 minutes. The soundtrack I set for myself via my Ipod also helped. Here's how that went:

*I started off with "Little Bird" by Annie Lennox. Definitely got the run off to a good pace.
*Then "Love to Love You Baby" by Donna Summers came on. Considering I had a dream last night involving me making out with Don Draper from "Mad Men" in a pool, I didn't think that would bode well for my thoughts.
*"Dirty Laundry" by Don Henley. The ultimate journalist's song.
*"These Arms are Mine" - DRAPER!!!!
*Finished things off with "Poker Face" Lady Gaga

Deadline: June 12. Wish me luck.

Real World headbands

Are these back/ever were in style? Not sure I am into the whole tribal headband across the forehead.

Other things that bother me about "The Real World: Cancun:"
*Forced lesbianism: I'm down with whatever peeps are down with, but I'm getting sick of these girls going lesbo just because they think it'll get them more TV action. Jonna went from having a serious boyfriend who she was going to marry to cheating on him with a new guy to having a threesome with a roommate. Blah.
*Pat, who was in the threesome with Jonna and Ayiia. The entire time he just kept saying "I can't believe it. This isn't real." Get over it and get in there!
*Ayiia freaking out that her "professional" parents will be mad she had a threesome. They're so unsupportive, she said. Um, I don't know any parents that would support their daughter having a threesome on national TV.
*The headbands again. I can't get on board with these.

The worst part about all of this is in about six months these kids are going to be on the "Real World/Road Rules Challenge" and have to kick it up a notch to compete with Anissa and The Miz.

Reality Show checklist

Here are some reality shows I wouldn't want to be on. Since you've been dying to know.

*Jon & Kate Plus 8: Not sure who I would be on this, but I sure as hell wouldn't want to be one of their kids. I'm kind of addicted to tabloids so I'd probably figure out pretty quick what my parents are up to. I've (one would think) grown out of dating douchebags, so being Jon's new gf is out. We've already covered how mean Kate is, so I'd have a hard time playing the helpful friend.

*Survivor: I get hungry really quick. Then I get crabby. I'd sign up for the free tropical trip but probably quit pretty fast.

*The Bachelor: I'm pretty sure those rose ceremonies are open bar, and we all know what happens to Kelly around free liquor. I'd drink like it's going out of style, not get a rose, and be "that girl" in the limo crying.

*The Bachelorette: Knowing me I wouldn't like any of the guys.

*American Idol: Me. Beer. Karaoke. 'Nuff said.

There are some reality shows I think I would be into.

*The Real World: I'm pretty sure I'd be OK with hanging out in a different city without a job for five months. I can't figure out what "character" I'd be. Probably the mouthy one.

*The Real Housewives of ... " : If I'm on this show, I'm probably super rich, so that's not too shabby. They should do "Real Housewives of Roselle/Hanover Park" and it could be me, Moogs, Lauren and Heather. Me and Moogs have to find husbands though. (sad trombone). (Oh, and see pic above!)

*The Amazing Race: This depends on the partner. I think my mom and I would be pretty good teammates, but I'd be worried we'd get hung up at the bar.

*Giuliana and Bill: This is a new one on the Style Network. In my fantasies I'm married to Bill Rancic and it's called "Kelly and Bill."

The Kate Gosselin story

My mom has told me for awhile I should share my personal Kate Gosselin story with some of the blogs dedicated to hating her. But I felt like that was kind of unethical since this happened while I was attempting to report on her. I don't make it a practice to blast my sources to the world. And considering the amount of bad press she's gotten and the exponential way her bitchiness has grown, my little story wouldn't resonate in the grand scheme of the KG haters.

But this is my personal fishbowl so here it is:

I first started watching "John & Kate Plus 8" around early 2007, and immediately became obsessed. I was at work one day doing some heavy internet stalking and came across their speaking schedule. Back then, they spoke at various churches around the country for, of course, money. I saw they were speaking at a church in northwest Ohio, which is part of my paper's coverage area, that weekend. I happened to be on the schedule to work that Sunday, so I pitched to my editor that I should attend the event.

I got the go ahead and called the church for details. The pastor was very nice and said I was welcome to come and listen, but he relayed that Jon and Kate's strict contract with TLC didn't allow them to do any non-approved interviews or have their picture or video taken. But I was still welcome to come listen to their presentation and write about what I heard. My editor was down with that but said I should call TLC and have them send any promotional pictures we could use. I left a producer with TLC a message. I saw that Kate had her personal e-mail address on their Web site, so I sent her an e-mail, not thinking there was any chance I would hear back.

I was wrong.

Kate e-mailed me back a very nasty e-mail in ALL CAPS demanding I not come to their speech and said if I came I would be kicked out. She said she and Jon did these speeches as Jon and Kate Gosselin, not as their "Jon & Kate Plus 8" personas. It went on and on and to be honest, I can't remember what it said, but it was mean just like her.

The pastor then called me and said Kate called him and was threatening to cancel their appearance if I was there. He apologized but asked if I please would not come since they had already promoted this to their congregation. He said I was welcome to come as a guest but asked I not come as a journalist. We obliged because, in the end, it wasn't that big of a deal. But legally, I would've had every right to go to the church and write about their speech. If it's open to the public, it's open to media. And if Jon and Kate were so worried about media reporting on their speaking engagements, they shouldn't post the dates, times and places on their Web site.

So that's it. Kate is mean, but Jon is still King Douche.

Chachi's likes and dislikes

My cat, Chachi, is a cross between a mommy's boy and a bully. He can be meaner than a junkyard dog and sweet as an angel. I realize this is because I'm a softie when it comes to him and discipline him with smooches instead of spankings. The bright side is that I'm able to turn my male pet into these things before I turn a son into them.

So, in honor of Chach's impending unknown August/September birthday (we're both Virgos), here are some of his likes and dislikes.

LIKES
*Bras
*Tank tops
*Watching "the guys" (i.e. his birdies and squirrlies) outside in the morning
*ME!
*His grandma
*Headquarters: a nylon blue and green tent that sits in the middle of my living room.
*Jumping up in front of the door to bat the chain lock.
*Sucking on his tail while laying next to me. I read that cats do this when they're weaned from their mother too early. It's actually kind of sad to watch.
*Watching me go to the bathroom while sitting on top of the toilet.
*Watching me take a bath from the rim of the tub.

DISLIKES
*Any boy that comes over and pays attention to me.
*Being squirted with water when he's bad.
*When I leave for more than two hours.
*When all his toys are put neatly in the toy box. He'll take out the ones he likes and put them back where he thinks they go.
*He's kind of on the fence about my dad, who has no clue how to differentiate between how to pet a cat vs. a dog.

Not a virgin

This isn't my first blog, by the way.

I had a blog for two years running on .... Indiana state marching band finals. Ohhhhh....yeeeeaaaahhhh.

Sexy stuff here. I was able to transfer what I learned from eight years in band to my career. I covered the state marching band competition at the RCA Dome for two years for the paper. I had street cred.

I did geek out a little and actually enjoyed listening to the bands perform but those two days were two of my worst as a journalist. I've been told covering the Indianapolis Colts is less of a hassle than marching band. I wore no less than nine press passes around my neck, and you would think the Secret Service was hired to staff the event. The security surrounding these band was incredible. I've covered Obama twice and Hilary Clinton once and honest to God, the security rivaled those events.

So anyway, just wanted you to know you're working with a veteran here.

It's ME!

I used to think people who wrote blogs were narcissistic beings who just wanted people to pay attention to them (used to=still kind of do). Well, this blog isn't really for you. It's for me! (Cue video clip of Tyra, "It's me!" You'd get it if you watched "The Soup). But really, I want to keep up my conversational/funny/lame/non-education writing and thought this would be a good outlet. I write stories about budgets, policies, taxes, school board meetings and government officials every day and sometimes feel boxed in by the structure of it all. Sure, I write feature stories and can be more creative, but it's hard to be as clever or funny as I want to be in a newspaper article.

So, here I am.

This blog doesn't have a theme, though you will probably find some thematic elements in it. I'll tip you off to a few: Chachi, celebrities, celebrity gossip, TV shows I watch, movies I've seen, funny moments from my day, a possible daily crisis or two, etc. It won't get personal. You probably won't be able to peer into my soul, either. But hopefully you'll walk away amused and maybe think to yourself, "I guess she made an OK choice becoming a writer. She'd be better as a typist, though."