The Drama Of No Drama

I'm not a drama person. I'm just not. I will gossip with the best of them, cry when my DVR cuts off the ends of my shows, and throw my mascara during once-a-month fits of rage. But as far as getting along with others, I'm drama free. I don't like it and don't have time for it.

I've had drama friends. We all have. You know the ones. You're out, having a nice time, and all of sudden they are mad at someone else in the group for talking to someone else who they actually like but because they are "drama friends" and there are margarita's around, it suddenly becomes the knock down drama drag out of the year. Every night you're out with this person. I avoid friends like these.

The people you choose to be friends with are easy to manage though. You've chosen them. You either accept their flaws as they accept yours and grow buds of friendy-friend petals OR you realize the flaws are too great and you're at a point in your own life where your flaws are so great you can't deal with their great flaws.

The hard thing comes when the drama comes from people you can't choose. You might be thinking: family. I'm thinking: co-workers. I'm very fortunate to have a family that is drama-free. We just don't have deep-seated drams. I'm lucky that way and I count my blessings everyday.

Co-workers, corporate America, Hell, whatever you want to refer to it as, it's not your choice. For example, take my situation. I'm an actor, but not a well-paid one majority of the time. Therefore, I work in le office. I choose to work in an office because retail does not offer flexible schedules and being waiter means I have to watch every episode of Top Chef much later than the original air date and time. I want it to be my CHOICE to watch shows days later, not a necessity.

Enter my slice of the corporate pie.

I listen and hear about this drama, that drama, this person, that person, oh guess what so and so did, ALL DAY. All day. Sometimes, I am pulled into the drama because it involves some sort of aspect of my job. It's like these people don't have lives. They hate their jobs just as much as they hate everything outside of their job. Everything is a big deal and every problem has a solution that causes a greater problem and no solution. I wish that I could go into detail but I can't right here.

Several years ago (not long after I began at this gem of pie piece) I made a pact with myself to not care and not get involved. So I don't.

Not getting involved and not caring causes way too much drams you guys.

I get so worked up and upset about trying not to care, hearing things I don't care about and being dragged into something I have nothing to do with that my shoulders and back are tense and I can't enjoy my lunch breaks for fear of what drama I will have to avoid when I walk back into the building.

I am actor. I should be going to work, coming home and everything is roses, except for occasionally when sh*t happens and something isn't roses for a day or two.

Instead, I come to work, handle way too much responsibility (whole other blog post there) and drama, come home, spend two hours trying to un-tense my shoulders and brain, only to realize it's time to sleep before the next wave of nightmarish Hell begins.

Avoiding things is not healthy but getting involved and feeding unnecessary drama is also not healthy.

The avoiding drama is killing me. Maybe literally.

My Little Secret

I have this thing. The majority of people in my life right now don't know this about me.
I only ever want to hang out in places that would play St. Germain or any music from the Saint Germain Des Pres Cafe series of discs. These two things are only related by similar names, they are not the same.

Example:



This is a live version of St. Germain performing his song Sure Thing.

That. That's the only kind of place I want to hang out.

So that kind of makes me a nu-jazz, house, weirdo.

I don't care.

Chances are if you see me hanging in a Wrigleyville bar, I am thinking:

There's not enough white decor.

There are not enough candles.

I do not like sports that much (anymore).

If I order a martini I will be judged.

They probably don't even have champagne.

I want to be wearing heels and cute shiny black or cream colored dress.

There is no dance floor. How can I create a dance floore?

Oh we're leaving now. Well, all the better then.


I promise I'm not a snob. I just know what I like.

Rainy Day...

Tascha

It's rainy. I enjoy rain so much. Not only is it rainy but when I walked out of my home this morning the sky was beautifully black and gray. The stormy kind of rain is my absolute favorite. Especially right now because it's reflecting my inner turmoil. Turmoil meaning I'm trying to get out of a rock and a rockier place with my job.

Enter my Etsy search. I really like Etsy. It's awesome and I've purchased several awesome things through there, all art prints. My budget is tight these days so since I can't purchase these items myself, I'll put them here in hopes that one of the 3 people who read this might purchase them instead.
blancucha


michelemaule

groundwork

emilyjanowiak

Enjoy this rainy Wednesday.

My Long Distance Lover

photo from this adorable Etsy shop.

I often joke that I have a long distance relationship. His name is New York City. We hardly see each other, but our bond is so strong there is no reason to break up just yet. Besides, we really should live in the same place before we decide this relationship isn't worth pursuing anymore.

I don't know what it is about him that made me fall in love so hard.

The first time we met was by a series of events that some might call a disaster but I call fate. I was flying from Los Angeles, California to Tirana, Albania (final destination was Erseke, but couldn't fly there, had to take a bus). My crew and I were to change planes in Newark, NJ. But alas, we were delayed due to weather. Even though we made it on time for our next flight, that flight was international AND another airline. They would not let us through security or check our bags since it was less than an hour before the plane was due to depart. There was lots of yelling (I mean, a lot) and some manipulating until finally Continental provided us a hotel and some food vouchers*.

Our new flight did not leave until 9pm the next night. What is a group of ladies to do when stuck in Newark, NJ for 24 hours? Not hang out in Newark, that's for sure. The woman in charge of missions at our church (this was a church trip) told us to go have fun in New York City for the day.

We did.

I've never been the same since. Isn't it amazing how when you love hits you everything is just right in the world? There's no bad, smells or honey and roses, and my waist felt 2 inches smaller?

Just great.

I'm going back for the Del Close Marathon in July. I can't wait.

I'm coming soon.


*This is only the beginning of what would later be referred to as the Travelpocalypse/Greatest Trip of My Life. Ask me and I will tell you all about it sometime.

Happy Birthday Grandmother!

Today is my grandmothers 85th birthday.

Isn't she beautiful?

My grandmother, Ms. BillE Allison* mother of Karen Allison Wilbanks (that's my mom in case you hadn't gathered), is an amazing woman. She works out at Curves 3 times a week and works in her garden the rest of the time. She has a cup of coffee every morning and a crossword. She's the reason I drink coffee. She also recently decided she deserves to have cable/internet after all these years AND my mom took her for her very first manicure and pedicure. She's living the high life these days.

Going to grandmother's house as a wee one was special for several reasons:

She is super loving and caring

Bubble baths with Mr Bubble

Trips to the PigglyWiggly for treats and toys

My mom's original set of barbies, my uncle's original GI Joes, and books from my mom's
adolescence (Oh yes, I'm talking about the Five Little Pepper's Midway AND the original Nancy Drew novels)

Cuddling in bed with grandmother before sleepy time

My special coffee she made every morning: a teeny bit of actual coffee, cold milk, and sugar

Her adorable two-room house on the farm

Picking strawberries from her strawberry field

Eating the strawberries after they had been in the freezer for a few days.

I still enjoy going to grandmother's in the morning for a cup of coffee, no milk or sugar these days though. Now that I'm older she tells the most wonderful stories from her childhood and adulthood. I love hearing her stories. I wish that I could be in Texas more often in order to hear them all the time. She does have a cell phone now which helps.

My grandmother was 1 of 5 sisters. Unbelievable. All of her sisters have suffered terrible illnessess and ailments in their old age, but my grandmother, for reasons no one knows but are thankful for, is still perfectly healthy. She doesn't really try to be healthy either. I mean, she works out, now, but she doesn't cook anymore. She survives on a diet of frozen meals and the occasional dinner out on the town. Of course, if I was 85, I would probably do the same thing.

I am so lucky to still have this amazing strong and oh so stubborn woman in my life. I didn't get the lucky card when it came to number of grandparents. This woman is the only grandparent I've really ever known. My dad's parents passed away, his mom before I was born and his dad when I was a baby. My grandmother's husband passed away when my mom was 13. She never dated or remarried again. Grandmother always says that she had her one love and was lucky and blessed to have him, even if it was for a shorter time than most people get to spend together.

Yeah, now I'm tearing up too.

This is the same woman who once told me, "If he doesn't turn you on he's not worth your time." There. That should bring a smile through the tears.

I can't wait to give her a call and wish her happy birthday over the phone. I can't call yet though. Wednesday mornings she goes to Curves so she won't be able to answer my call. She's such a busy body that BillE.

Happy birthday grandmother! I love you!

*that is exactly how her name is spelled, upper-case E and all.

Retracted Apology

I'm not sorry anymore. I found out today that all gas, from all companies, goes to one big place and then is shipped to gas stations.

AND BP's are not necessarily owned by BP, they are franchised out.

AND this poor guy who owns this franchise is probably hurting because of all of BPs bad publicity so he needed my money (well, Zipcars money). Since it's a franchise, BP doesn't see much of the profits anyway.

I don't feel bad anymore.

I'm Sorry World

This has been bothering me so I have to put it out there. I'm not joking. I feel really bad.

I rented a ZipCar this weekend. The rule is the car has to be returned with at least 1/4 a tank of gas. I was at about a half tank and thought, "I'll be nice and fill this car up for the next person so they don't have to worry about it." I had lots of extra time and was already done with my car requiring errand. I pulled into the closest gas station to my home.

A BP.

I didn't even realize it until I had already pulled in. Other people were using it. I used it. I used BP gasoline. I feel like a punk. Seriously.

I'm sorry.

I could've gone somewhere else but I didn't know what was close by and was running a huge gamet of emotions. I have a thing for cars. I miss mine TERRIBLY and when I drive another car and have to give it back, I get really sad. I know that's weird. I'll explain sometime.

I'm sorry I am such a let down. I really am.

Ugh.

I also took the free pass for a shoreline cruise that someone left in the parking pass slot.

I like to think they left it there on purpose. Really, someone's grandma probably couldn't get on the cruise when the family arrived at the boat.

I'm sorry. I want to use it for a date with my boyfriend.

I'm sorry for everything.

Especially the BP thing. Really, that's the only thing I'm sorry for.

BurgerQuest: We Have An Almost Winner and a For Sure Loser

Today was Epic Burger. Mr. Jandy and I took to the newly opened Epic Burger by my work.

Nom noms. Twas very good.


I had a junior burger on a wheat bun. John had a double on white.

Guys, it's good. The "Epic Sauce" is a type of thousand island dressing. I smell an In 'n Out wannabe and that's no problem with me. In 'n Out truly is the greatest burger, but is not eligible for this contest since there aren't any here in Chicago*.

I really really really like the wheat bun too. It was messy. The sauce is a little thin. The junior burger was a great size. It wasn't junior at all, it was a regular burger. The double was too much meat and too much sauce. Poor John had saucy hands and went through a lot of napkins. The fries were delish. They were very similar to Five Guys. Not too thin, not too crispy, browned just right and salty.

Extra credit was awarded because they carry Dr. Pepper, but extra credit was promptly taken away because they only carried Diet Pepsi. Diet Pepsi is the worst of the diets.

Honestly, this may be my favorite burger. I don't really know. I feel like I would need to blind taste test both and see. Wheat bun = good. But Five Guys has jalapenos = double good.

Super close race. We'll call it an almost winner.

The loser: Moody's Pub. Seriously? I want to know what was happening in the world at the moment this burger was voted best in Chicago. Was there a meat shortage causing every establishment to only get horrible meat? Dry meat, dry bun (at least it was sesame seed), no flavor, fries eh. Not at all worth the trek north.

That's all for now on that.

*An In 'n Out Burger is opening 10 minutes from my parents house in Texas. I cried when I found out. Seriously. I had tears. I can't wait. It will supposedly be open by the time I go to visit in July. SHUT UP WORLD. THAT'S TOO PERFECT. WORLD, AHHHHH. YOU SCORED.

Dear CoCo Before Chanel,

You are a good movie. Not great, but good. Very interesting, pretty and engaging.

However, I've had you from Netflix for a over a month and a half. I hope you understand it's not personal. This is a prime example of why I only get 1 movie at a time. I barely have time to watch the 1 movie I do get. Also the reason The Wire took me almost a year to complete.

I'm sorry.

It's hard for me to sit and watch anything. Usually I only have time put a movie (or TV show) on while I am getting other things done and right before I have to go to sleep. That's about 30-45 minutes a day.

You are foreign.

I can't read subtitles while I do other things.

I wish that I could.

More than that, I wish I could sit down and watch something without doing anything else.

I was going to send you back, but I'm not now. I am going to keep you. I will make my best effort to finish you this weekend. I think it's time that you move on with your life, as I with mine.

I wanted to send you this note so you know it's not entirely personal. We will finish what we started.

Best,

Molly