In Which My Jaw Explodes By The End of This

Sinus pressure: a phenomenon exclusive to the midwest or does everyone's face feel like it's going to explode? The only way to survive this festering blanket of heat is sitting in air conditioning as often as possible. Now don't get me wrong; I love the AC. I'm a bear without it. But my sinuses have a funny way of responding to said recycled air by swelling to twice their normal size. And my teeth hurt? Apparently that's a thing. In conclusion: I'm struggling, but I'd rather be in pain then leave heat regulation to my body's natural chemistry. It can't "do" that. I'm going to ice my face.

So the past week has been positively exciting, save for the 5th of July when I woke up and immediately hated everything I had drunk the night before. It was all in the name of America, though, so I think that makes it okay. Anyway, the McSweeney's piece came out two Fridays ago and this has been a most interesting week of feedback, both good and bad. I realize that's a little too naive or cutesy of me to like the negative comments but (surprise?) it was my first published piece, so really I had no frame of reference. I did come across something on Twitter that said my blog is boring. Well, obviously it's boring there's like, five entries. Don't worry, though. Robert is already planning to re-vamp it/move it to wordpress, so even though the content will stay exactly the same, you will at least be aesthetically tricked into thinking I'm a real writer. Speaking of tricked into thinking I'm a real writer:  a nice woman on Twitter asked where she can find more of my writing and I thought well I can send you one of my diaries. Because that's what I'm working with! The piece was also re-posted on The Huffington Post, so I guess I could have sent her that link which would have been to something she already read. But really, everything from personal e-mails to new Twitter followers has been exciting, so thank you. And maybe I'll write something new someday or something.

If you missed the McSweeney's piece, don't worry! Here it is! And don't forget: if you do Instagram pictures of food (or anything for that matter) I don't actually hate you.

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/an-open-letter-to-people-who-take-pictures-of-food-with-instagram


But even more exciting news is the fact that I am officially headed for Chicago! (The Windy City will also make this blog less boring.) Maybe a month ago, I promised my roommate from freshman year that I was absolutely committed to being her roommate should she get hired at the Chicago job for which she had applied. I've been completing a lot of job applications of my own, none of which have panned out. (So if you know anybody in Chicago...) Right, so she got hired at a big kid job and I will be accompanying her and being her freshman-in-life roommate. This will all be happening in early September unless, of course, somebody decides tomorrow that they need me in Chicago right away. Whatever, I'm super excited, and I have utmost confidence that everything will work out swimmingly. I'm also excited about my mom's promise of buying me a Keurig. It's all I asked of her in regards to the relocating. Hot drinks. (Which is weird because my body really does struggle with regulating its temperature. Maybe that's why.) I've had a good run in Ohio but the time has come for me to explore other parts of...the midwest. I figure this will finally afford me the opportunity to pretend I'm in a John Hughes movie and John Candy's my wacky uncle. I've done it before, but this time it will be relevant.

Here's a story that's not boring! Last weekend, Biz and I went to Cleveland for a night of bar hopping. The night was going like most of my other bar hopping nights, complete with eight dollar beers and me feeling being shorter than everyone else. We eventually made our way over to West 6th which is an area I was supposed to know about but didn't because I never go to Cleveland. Upon entering the bar, we immediately ran into girls from high school, which was awesome, especially because one of them was clearly mid-conversation with a guy then physically shoved past him to talk to us. The bar's music was being supplied by a surprisingly good cover band headed by a lead singer with the charm of Zack Morris and the leather vest of Aladdin. I believe we made eye contact once or twice, not that I've been thinking about it ever since then or anything. I had resigned to stop drinking (I don't know why) but then I was getting all these sweaty hugs from this other crew of from-high-school-kids who were at the same bar by way of a party bus, so I revoked my resignation. I wedged my way into an open spot at the bar, between two empty chairs, and I flagged down the lady bar keep. This bar must have been 100 degrees inside, and she was wearing a long sleeve black shirt, black pants, a lot of black eye make up and all of her heavy black hair worn down her back and on her shoulders. She looked fucking miserable. Naturally, I decided she was the best person with whom to place an order.

Can I get a Bud Lite, and a water, please? I shouted over Zack Morris's rendition of Poker Face. [Note: 30 seconds before, Biz had lovingly stroked my shoulder and said "water??" Note to the Note: She was DD so she was just regular thirsty not like, drunk thirsty.]

She held eye contact with me long enough to acknowledge that she had understood my request. She dipped down to a refrigerator below the bar and popped back up with a Miller Lite which she flicked open with a phantom bottle opener that had appeared as if from nowhere. She might have used her hand,  I don't even know. The beer immediately erupted out of the bottle, spilled over the sides and ran off the bar. I was already displeased that it was a Miller Lite, but at this point it was just mocking me. I paid the girl with a 20 and when she gave me back my change, she looked at the puddle of beer and placed my bills in it. I shook them off, stuffed them in my purse, and turned around to look at Biz. I simply pointed at my Miller Lite bottle. She shook her head in the way that one might "SMH."She SHH.

And that's what I consider to be a not boring story.

My jaw hasn't exploded yet but touching my tongue to my teeth hurts. I think I might take something.

OH do you know what my favorite response to the McSweeney's piece is? A friend of a friend inquired if that's my job now. To write stuff for people and then get paid. In a perfect world...