Traffic again

It's getting worse. It's getting so unbearable worse I dread getting behind the wheel in Chicago. It's getting to the point where you pretty much have to expect slowing to a crawl at some point during every excursion, and you need to add about 20 onto your initial ETA. If it's not the people it's the taxis, and the other cars and damn ambulances and the paddy wagons. did I mention the taxis? Times like these I wish I lived closer to the train because I would ditch my car and hop on. It's also times like these when I wish a second level of roadway could be built, allowing traffic to flow about 100 feet in the air, a la the Firth Element, sort of. Anything to get the damn roads to clear up in Chicago. Oh, and taxis drivers should be forced to take bi-yearly driving tests as well as general courtesy reality checks.

and another thing about my phone

Sigh...texting. I get it. It's easy and quick and kind of fun but it's also taking over my life. Right now I have a text message package of 1,000 texts a month. That's about 30 text messages a day. This month I maxed that quota and racked up about $50 in international text charges from a friend in Prague. They are 15 cents each and don't come in the package (yes we txt a lot!). And that's the other thng. I am a writer and I pride myself on my extensive vocabulary, it actually pays my bills. But for some reason, I fnd mself figring out wys to gt the mssage acrss in half the wrds. Oy, it's so bad. I think I get about 5 phone calls a week, and about 200 texts. Are we all that busy that no one can pick up the phone anymore? OK, I too am guilty of sending a text before a phone call, but how impersonal have we all become? I guess I've always loved gab fests on the phone with my friends and siblings, and getting to actually talk to a guy on the phone to get to actually, you know, know him? But alas, we live in a world of 1,000-text-a-month packages for $10 which turns out to be about .01 cents a text..so in that case, keep 'em coming, I guess. Just don't make them international.

Crack kills

Lately I have become abnormally obsessed with my Blackberry. The old "crackberry" expression really holds true, for really real. Yesterday I found myself trying to figure out how long I've ever gone without peeking at the thing, and how I think my blood pressure might go up when I am away from it. Sometimes I think I see the message light indicator flashing but It's just a figment of my f'ing IMAGINATION! What gives? Other times I'll spot the crisscrossing arrow icons in the upper right hand corner flashing, which usually indicated an incoming text or email. I will sit and watch them, flashing as they point in opposite directions and wait for the red X to appear over the phone, email or text icon. I will even have dreams about this, where I see the red X appear and it reminds me of the Tetris-playing days of my youth when my dreams used to be filled with falling blocks stacking on top of each other. Isn't this an indication that humans aren't meant to stare at digital images all day? That they end up imbedding themselves in your brain to the point where you can't imagine anything that doesn't have some HTML code behind it? I guess this is an old story, people being addicted to their blackberries and yada yada, but truly, I now understand. And what is this all-important, life changing messages that raises my heart rate and excitement? Other 20% off coupon from Bed, Bath and Beyond? An invitation for a wine tasting with the Lincoln PArk Young Professionals? Another god awful press release for a media dinner in the suburbs? What? What is it that is SO important I must read it...immediately..and one must come through at least every minute for me to feel special. I tell ya..it's the good texts and emails that come when you least expect 'em..not when you're sitting, staring at unblinking red lights and waitin' for em. Geez..

Why I heart Chicago

I know these posts are supposed to be an expression of my non-edited grouchiness, but I'd like to take this opportunity to express how much I love Chicago in the summer. With siblings in town to entertain last night, I was expecting the usual hodge podge of tourisity  hell that makes them so happy, but we actually ended up having a great night. Did it involve Chinatown? Yes? Rock and Roll McDonald's, um, yes. A tour of the city? YES! But I'm telling you, I loved every second of it. Even the part where we ended up at Bed Bath and Beyond. It went like this. My brother and sister took the train into town and I picked them up at that craphole that is Union Station, but, despite the cop encroaching upon my idling car ticket packet in hand, it was pretty quick and painless. They were hungry so I took them to Letizia's for lunch and we chilled on the back patio. Next we hung out at my condo for a while before heading to Bed Bath to buy an Aero mattress for my diva-of-a-brother. He agreed to split that shit with me, so it actually ended up being a good deal as I'm sure I will put it to good use. Then we went back to my place and got ready for dinner in Chinatown. I took them to Lao Sze Chuan, a perpetually packed classic and my go-to Chinatown spot. The service sucked and we all overate, but all in all, I think they were happy. Next stop, BErry Chill, a recent obsession and a chance to show them something they definitely don't have at home. Naturally they loved it and scarfed their yogurt in about 5 min. NExt up. Chicago hauntings ghost tour. Not my idea. Ok, my idea, but I only brought it up because my brother is a ghost tour junkie, neither of them drink and I thought it woudl be a fun thing to do late night on a Sat. Although a bit on the long side, it actually wasn't quite fascinating and the tour took us all over town. It stopped at various "haunted" spots all over town and the best part was scaring my sister at the Jane Adam's Hull House where Rosemary's devil baby supposedly once lived. We were taken to the site of the EAstland disaster, the Saint Valentine's Day massacre and a the haunted oriental theatre. it was all actually pretty cool and interesting. Now my point about Chicago. The tour was fun, but what was more fun was the reaction of the throngs of people in their cars and on the sidewalk's reaction when they saw us drive buy in the black Chicago hauntings bus. Some laughed, some waved, some looked perplexed. What I loved was that here we were, a tourist in my own town and we're driving around the city while hundreds of other things were going on, plays, movies, parties, events, black tie galas, people on outdoor patios, poetry slams, concerts, the symphony, the opera, people hanging out late night in West Loop boutiques, people in line to get into clubs. Of course we didn't see all of that, but it's cool to think that it all goes on at the same time in Chicago on a warm Saturday night. We were just to spot some ghosts, but I love knowing I live in a city that's so alive in the summer.

words you should know

If my best friends and I were ever filmed for a reality show, no one would now what the hell we were saying simply because we've pretty much developed our own language through the years. While half the fun is being able to use said secret words in front of other people so they don't know we are making fun of them, I will share with you our lexicon. try to follow along...

Hater-self explanatory and not a secret word, but we love this word. there are so many uses for this words. Anyway with a negative or judgmental tude is a hater. Hate-OR can be used for extra emphasis. 

Jel-short for jealous. every body's just a little bit.

Shit show-a clusterfuck of annoyingness.

Pooya-too crass to explain, but it basically refers to a restaurant you know will send you to the bathroom for the rest of the night. like I said, crass, but you know these places when you see them and want to steer clear.

Richie bone: douchebag or generally annoying drunk dude who yells, "whooooooo!!!" 

There are more...I will keep thinking

 

I am getting crochity

Crochity? Crotchity? What I mean to say is that I've been noticing that my patience is wearing more than thin these days when it comes to, well, just about everything. Does this mean I am officially old? I used to wince when my balsy aunt would yell at waiters who gave us bad service, now it's one of my biggest pet peeves (bad service).  I also can't stand slow, street-crossing text-messaging pedestrians (although I am guilty of that) as well as anyone on a bike, motorcycle, Segueway or vespa and in my way or in my peripheral vision. I want to ram into every cab I see and every person waiting for a bus on a corner and stepping out into onto the street while I am trying to make a right turn. Maybe my new, significantly faster car has turned me into a first-rate A-hole, or maybe I really am getting old. I do find myself, on more than one occasion, stopping the radio dial on 100.3 Love FM (no joke) and skipping past my former flames..B96 and WGCI. Don't get me wrong, I still love me some Lil' Wayne and anything on the XM radio dial between 62-68 (preferring the rhyme and sometimes raw), but for the most part, I feel, well, crotchity. 

Breakfast club babies

I just saw a commercial for JC Penny back-to-school clothes and crap, and the kids were recreating scenes from the Breakfast Club. I think they even shot the damn thing in the library of that North Shore Chicago high school (New Trier?). Anyway, they had them running through the hallways, dancing on the bookshelves, and basically mocking the brat packs rebellious antics during that long Saturday in detention. While clever, I don't think the commercial will successfully speak to anyone under the age of 30, and how many of them have 10-year-old kids looking to be outfitted at JC Penny? It was clever but missed the mark. Maybe it was Sears? Eh..who knows.

my dose

Is stuffy tonight. And I have a zit the size of Toledo on my chin. At least I'm about to break 100 facebook friends!

Saint's Alp Almond Milk Tea

I'm sitting with my sister Sarah at Saint's Alp Teahouse in Chinatown and we both really wanted to call this blog ARAT. This word (also a Middle Eastern movie title), is the sounds our mother makes when has what she likes to call, europhasia. We think this is just another word for intestinal gas that leads to burping. We decided it was too mean to name a blog after our dear mother's gaseous tendencies, we we settled on Grossmanuscript. Sarah will not be blogging on this site, but I hope she will comment. I will be writing when I want to—thoughts, experiences, comments, tasty things I ate that day (or drank like the awesome almond milk tea at this hidden gem Chinatown teahouse) or anything else that's on my mind. What's still on my mind right now is the Wyclef concert we went to last night at the House of Blues, which was as my sister just commented "off the hook." I'd have to agree. Wyclef was looking fine for his age of 40-something (?) and had enough energy to literally bounce of the walls and balconies of the House of Blues. He sang a bunch of songs off his new album, but kicked it old-school with some Fugee's favorites. It was Sarah's first hip hop show and House of Blues concert and it's one she'll never forget.
We are off to get our hair straightened, which is pretty much comparable to a hit of crack for a junkie. Then we are dining at Le Colonial followed by a lame party at Manor for the launch of a Chicago restaurant guide book I helped write. Tomorrow it's back to the daily grind..