FIBs

This week is really shaping up weather-wise. The projected forecast is for 80s and sun. I will take both with loving arms thankyouverymuch. Also the big Memorial Day weekend is in T minus 3days which is the official kick off to summer. Bags, BBQ, & Beer - what more could a girl ask for.

I have a feeling this summer will be an eye-opener for me. My old summer routine is in the dumps mostly because it was "our" routine. Me and the ex. We had our annual events all planned everything from concerts, camping music festivals, 4th of July trip, crashing friend's lake houses...and it was all a blast. My weekends were always filled with little trips and getaways and I loved it. And now, I will definitely miss it. For instance, this weekend I would be attending Summer Camp a 3day camping music fest which features bands which aren't necessarily main stream, they are more-or-less hippy stream. It hurts, just a bit.

But I have bigger and better things to look forward to. I just haven't figured them out quite yet. So far my plan is limited to 3 things: biking, kayaking the Chicago River (at least once), and crashing lake house parties.

For those of you who don't know, a FIB is a kind name that was bestowed upon us from our neighbors to the North (thank you Meth-consin) and to the North-East (Michigan). A FIB is a Fucking Illinois Bastard. This term is mostly directed towards the Chicagoans and those who live in the Chicago-land-area. The reason, simple: We attack in the summer. Their side of the lake is cleaner, not to mention they have other lakes nestled in everywhere. And its only 1-3hrs to get there. So we invaded. Buying houses to store our boats, ski-dos and other fun things in order to get our party on. And we're called bastards? Way to forget that we bring the revenue to the towns every summer. And you're welcome...you jealous assholes - I mean, our friendly neighbors.

Anywho, that is neither here nor there. The point is this: If you live in Chicago, you need to find a friend that has a summer house on a lake. Its a staple. Necessary for anyone (all ages) to enjoy a Midwestern summer. And although I've lost my signature summer routine, I still have the ability to get my lakehouseon. Luckily for me, HLo's bf has a house and he will be having the first summer kick off next Saturday. And I just got my invite. Which I will have to take. His parties are sick and typically are a mess of drinking debauchery mixed with some sunning & water. Plus HLo got this new toy: Hello Lover!


I know, you're jealous. Your mouth is agape & you're drooling a little. Its ok. I understand.

With swim suit season rapidly approaching - yea it caught up with me - I have decided to hit the gym again. Ok, I did it for 2 reasons really: to attempt to avoid some of that commuter traffic home, and to kick mother nature in her ass. For some ungodly reason, Mother Nature has smacked me with the puberty stick. I have acne...well, 2 huge monsters growing out of my chinny-chin-chin. Blasphemy! That bitch. I definitely blame her, not the fact that I ate my weight in french fries, gave some slobby knobs drunk without the proper face washing etiquette afterwards, and found myself waking up in puddles of drool several times the past several weeks. Luckily things are looking up on that front. I miss my real gym...the office gym is full of uglies. Even though my old gym wasn't a beauty pagent either - it was full equipt with the people that wear jeans or flannel to work out, or the 80s leotards. It was awesome really. And it was at least comfortable (I could get away with my tshirt & capris in comfort) and had updated equiptment. However, on Monday I did spot 1 cute guy at the office gym who commented on my shirt*....potential drinking buddy...maybe.

As for C - he can suck it. I'm a little over spinning my wheels right now and yes, it is likely that I have over-analyzed everything to the point of making my recollection of events now unreliable. I broke down and texted him last night since I hadn't heard from him. ANNOYING. Asked him out AGAIN. ANNOYING. He responded but it was lame. ANNOYING. Then the combination of the perfect weather got me thinking this morning that we should do a Sox game tonight instead of dinner because who doesn't love baseball (and some of those asses that fill those pants!), beer, & hot dogs on a warm night?!? His response: a repeat to the question, "to go to the game?". YOU'RE A MORON C. YES. But I just said "yes". No response yet. I'm getting over it...over him...or maybe I'm just premenstrual. Its probably the later...



*The shirt is a gift after you complete "The Rail". The link is not mine but the only thing I could find on the matter. This night was a completely different story...