First pee, now this?

Some of you (my myspace friends) may remember when my ceiling collapsed outside of my apartment door last year. For those of you that don't know me IRL - it looked like this...


Nice, huh? My landlord had the roofers come out and check out any potential damage. They fixed the small leaky spot and gave the roof a good check to make sure that we would be all safe and sound.

Well, Either the roofers are crackheads (maybe the same crackhead that tried to pee on me this morning - scroll down), or my roof is out to get me. Here is what I came home to this afternoon...


Yes, ladies and gentleman, that is water leakage around one of the light fixtures in my bathroom.

This cannot be good. Does anyone know what this means as far as my electricity is concerned? Obviously, I won't turn on this particular light, but do I need to worry about turning anything else on in the same circuit? Seeing as how I have no idea what fixtures are on what circuit - this may be difficult, but I can probably guesstimate in the name of not blowing a fuse.

Know what else is fun? If I flip a circuit - the only access to the fuse box is in the basement - which is only accessable through the first floor apartment. So, if I do flip something, I will be at the mercy of my neighbor...or my landlord...who still has not called me back.

Fun huh?

On a brighter side, maybe this is karma's (not my cat - the other karma) way of reminding me to take part in Earth Hour Chicago. This is something that my company is backing pro bono and I encourage all of you Chicagoans to get involved. Turn off your power for one hour tomorrow at 8. Go to the website. Learn more. Make a statement. Link on your blog. Do it. More importantly, do it because you want to...not because you might flip a breaker because your bathroom light fixture is leaking water and you are scared to turn anything on.

Besides, candles smell pretty.

For the Suburbanites...

I almost got peed on by a crackhead this morning on the El.

Some splashback may have landed on my shoe, but I can't be sure.

Jealous?

Rant in the name of dog

It has been a beautiful day in Chicago - probably around 50-something degrees (It has been a horrible winter so 50 feels like 80 right now). Like every other Chicagoan, I grabbed the dog and took the opportunity to go outside today - sans gloves, scarf and hat - to get some fresh air. As it was the first nice day we have had in months, I dressed Mojo in a cute (yet badass) skull and crossbones scarf. After all, special weather begs for sassy style.

We walked about a half mile up to the nearest dog park, where I was hoping to see at least a few small dogs. No such luck. I spotted a Pitbull mix, a Lab, a bulldog and a couple other larger mix breeds. I decided to be cautiously optimistic, hoping that the other dogs would be gentile. Mojo plays very well with big dogs, but in the absence of dogs his size, he will usually keep to himself. Besides, I thought, why would someone bring their dog to be off-leash in a public area if their dog is aggressive? I have always had good luck at dog parks, and did not expect today to be an exception.

We entered the park and I let Mojo off his leash. The Pit approached quickly, getting a running start to jump up at my chest - splattering the entire front of my jacket, pants, shirt and hair with mud. I yelled at the dog to "Get Down!" but the dog had other ideas. It jumped up at me again - and then went after Mojo - knocking him down and rolling him over...in the mud. Meanwhile, the Pit's owners sat chatting, either oblivious or perhaps unwilling to accept responsibility for their dog's behavior.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't wearing my Sunday best or anything. In fact, I fully expect to get a few paw prints on my clothes at the dog park. It happens. I'm cool with it. It does, however, piss me off that the owners didn't even try to get their dog to play nice. Nor did they apologize for the result of their negligence. Fucktards.

Not to be defeated, I shoved the dog away and led Mojo over to a quiet area where he could sniff around by himself. Meanwhile, the Pit picked a fight with the Lab. When the Lab's owner could no longer control the aggression against his dog, he left the park and the Pit set it's sights on Mojo. Again. I ended up having to carry my muddy dog out of the park as the Pit jumped up at me - desperate to catch a taste of my little pup. The Pit's owner lit a cigarette.

The situation pissed me off for two reasons;

1. These type of dog owners are the reason Pits get a bad rep. Pits can be amazing dogs, when owners take the time to be owners. These are the same type of people that raise asshole children - the kind that run screaming through restaurants and grocery stores. It's just too bad that children are not held to the same legal standard as dogs - quarantined or put to sleep for biting and other undesirable behavior. I kid, I kid.

2. My little dog should be able to play in public dog parks without worry of decapitation. Sure, little dogs can be assholes too, but if a maltese bites my pug, Mojo can shake it off and live to pee another day. Now if it's a German Shephard that decides to play a little rough - that owner is going to feel pretty bad when Fido maims or kills someone else's furry friend.

So what is the solution? Personally, I think that public dog parks should be sectioned off into a main run and a smaller section for little dogs (under 35 lbs). It would be like the kiddie pool at a park district. The little dogs could still hang in the main area, but there would be a safer option for the little guys to excersize and play. As far as I know, there is nothing like this in the City of Chicago. Evanston has Pooch Park (which sounds like heaven), I would even be willing to pay the fee, but the drive leaves something to be desired.

Days like this make me wish I had the $ to make my ideas come to life. I would even pay a per day entry fee for a clean place for my dog to run and play with other dogs his size. Whose to say that others wouldn't feel the same?

*And yes, I realize that this is the second post in a row about my dog. As much as I don't wanna be that guy (or girl) ...I totally am. Just to prove it - here is another picture of my dog making his sexy face at Grandma's house. You like it. Don't lie.

I am totally "That Guy"

For those of you that a)know me IRL and b)know about this blog - you know that I love going to see live music. Going to concerts has been a favorite pasttime since Jr. High when my mother took me and a few friends to go see Collective Soul at the Hard Rock Cafe in Chicago. (Oh like you had great taste in music in Jr. High - I heard you snicker)

No matter what kind of music I was into - I went to all the shows. In Jr. High, I rocked out to Collective Soul, Candlebox, Offspring, Pearl Jam, Violent Femmes and even Bob Dylan. (Ecclectic!) In High School, I saw Soundgarden and countless Ska shows before my tastes changed and I was drawn towards the Jam Band Scene. It was at this point that I began to get bitter and annoyed with other fans. You see, despite the fact that my musical tastes were of the neo-hippy variety - I have always been far too much of a bitch to embrace the "I love everyone" mentality. I don't love everyone. In fact, most people are assholes, myself included. Besides, it is far more entertaining to mock the hippy dance (video example below) than to hug a tree.



While I still loves me some Grateful Dead, Phish, Widespread Panic and Gov't Mule, I find that their fans piss me off to no end. I have been to the shows where everyone camps for the weekend. To me, camping with good friends after a good concert should be the recipe for a fantastic time...until you add in all the neo-hippy-moochers. I have literally been offered 3 crayons and a shoelace in exchange for a Heinekin. I have also had a girl stop and openly weep over my portable grill as I flipped my "death burger." Seriously, hippies, wtf?

I understand that "sharing" is part of the culture at these shows, and I have (on more than one occasion) wanted to "share" my deoderant with some of these people. I do not, however, care to share my beer, tent, money, food or blankets with other campers in exchange for anything other than money. I didn't buy my sandwich with good karma, dammit. I bought it with money I worked for and earned. I cannot subscribe to the ideology that because I decide to go to a show, I now must share everything that I paid for with idiots on drugs. I'm not gonna lie, I have been to shows on drugs (in my younger days), but never, ever, did I wander up to someone else's car and ask for a free beer.

I must be a glutton for punishment, because I continue to go to shows on a regular basis. I will continue to get mad at the flailing hippy and his cracked out arm that inevitably hits me in the boob. I will always be the one to death stare at the Trixie behind me that just has to call her friend in the middle of a song to scream (more in my ear than into her phone) about what a great time she is having.

I want to start a revolution! I dream of one day going to shows where the crowd is actually there to listen to the music being played - a crowd that is respectful of others that paid good money to see an artist perform - a crowed that picks up after itself and doesn't smell like a combination of BO and foot. I dream of...of...Ravinia. Shit...I am old.