Category Archives: personal

Juror Depardieu

So back in 2008, after many years of living in this great country, I became a naturalized citizen. The swearing-in ceremony was in a federal courtroom, under the impassive gazes of judges from long ago whose portraits lined the walls. I got no miniature American flag, a wrong that was righted when a co-worker gave me one when I went to the office. I think I celebrated this occasion by going to IHOP.

Since then, I’ve been able to exercise some of the benefits of US citizenship. I have a US passport that permits me visa-free travel to more places than my Philippine passport ever could. I have voted in various elections.

There are also obligations to citizenship, one of which is serving on a jury. Something I’d been able to avoid the first two times I got a notice to appear for jury duty service.

  1. First notice – not a citzen yet! Illinois pulls names from the DMV and voter registration rolls. A simple call got me out of it.
  2. Second notice – my last name did not start with a letter in the range of names they needed.
  3. Third notice – FUCK.

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stuff I learned this weekend

pumpkin Boba Fett #huffencooper #halloween

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When your lovely pals invite you to join them for post trick-or-treating snacks “any time after 5pm” that means you should probably try to get there not at 7:30pm.

The Halloween you swear you will address any small child dressed as Elsa from Frozen, sporting long white blond hair and a light blue gown, as Daenerys Stormborn or Khaleesi or Mother of Dragons is the day you will see no children wearing that costume.

Chicken chili and a baked potato with butter and sour cream make for the perfect meal on a wet and blustery Halloween tonight.

Taking the Clark bus through Wrigleyville on Halloween night makes for good entertainment.

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what i did on my summer vacation

Winner and still champion #piñata

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  • Bought my friend Dave a bootleg Darth Vader piñata from Dulcelandia for his birthday
  • Went to New York to see the Charles James show at the Met, hung out in Sunnyside with friends eat massive green chile burgers and meet Sari’s adorable baby, go to a benefit, stay in fancy hotels
  • Read in Carly and Rose’s first show

good morning #selfie

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  • Ran an alumni version of ScavHunt
  • Hung out with Zeke the Cat
  • Took a selfie that I like
  • Flew to LA for V3Con, finally met Joz, ate the same meal at the same restaurant two days in a row
  • Danced to house music with a bunch of other middle-aged people in Daley Plaza

late afternoon nap #marypuppins

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  • Spent July 4th weekend with Lola
  • Said goodbye to Ellen who moved to Seattle
  • Went on insulin
  • Got a Fitbit
  • Went to Pitchfork
  • Walked home from the Loop, broke my feet (temporarily)


  • Drank at The Cove for the first time in 15? 16? years
  • Practically threw up when I saw my piece about the history of prom at my alma mater published in the school bulletin because I was nervous about it being horrible
  • Was the first return reader for That’s All She Wrote Chicago
    • This was also my first live lit show to be held at a tattoo parlor
  • Looked after all the cats in Chicago
  • Hung out with Patrick who came for a visit
    • snorgled belugas
    • saw Robyn and Royskopp
    • ate at Hot Doug’s, probably for the last time
  • Saw Funkadesi play Summerdance, and the experience had me thinking of what Stefon from SNL might say: “The hottest night in Chicago is the Funkadesi show in Grant Park. This show had everything: turbans, Brazilian drummers, bros doing Bollywood dance, white guys in dashikis.”
  • Labor Day weekend
    • Cabaret at the Music Box
    • Art Institute with Toni, Magda, and Andrea to see the Magritte show and get all worked up over it
    • Lie around Leah’s, house-sitting and cat-sitting
    • Binge-watch second season of “Masters of Sex”

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Me Talk Titty One Day

I’m fat.

I am actually quite fat.

I’m fat pretty much everywhere, from the top of my big old Charlie Brown head to the bottoms of my Fred Flintstone feet. Fat everywhere except for two places.

Here, and here.

If I had to pick any two places on my body to be medium or even just a little undersized, it definitely would not have been in the tits.

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I read this at the last ever Solo in the 2nd City show at Beauty Bar on February 13, 2014. The theme of the show being break-ups, I decided to look at the end of one thing as the beginning of something else.

According to some stupidass quiz on Facebook that it seems all of my female friends (yet, curiously, none of my male friends) have taken, I was supposed to have gotten married two years and seven months ago. The median age of my married friends is 37, and the quiz reminds me in the kind of hopeful way that only an internet quiz can have that “half of your friends were married after that age!”

Yeah. Thanks. I already knew that.

Not only because I took math in school and remember what the motherfuck a goddamn median is. But also because when those married friends got married I was there for, huh, I don’t know,the median number of them? Continue reading

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cat and @lisawhite1213 are friends

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I stocked the freezer with wings and tater tots, but I forgot to get more stuff to drink. I made spinach balls Friday night, two cookie sheets worth that went into the fridge to set. I made sure my bathing suit was dry, and asked the lovely doorman to send up my trio of guests when they arrived.

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Caturday: 2 cats, 1 girl

2 cats, 1 girl #caturday

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poolside with Lisa and Jasmine

I’m cat-sitting in Streeterville until early next week. The cats live in a high-rise near Navy Pier, a high-rise that has a pool. A POOL, Y’ALL.

I put off using the pool until last night, when Lisa came over for swimming, burgers, and fireworks. Lisa can actually swim, unlike me, who half-assed my way through the swim test at my alma mater (PS they got rid of it lat year). Lisa tried to show me how to do my legs correctly. But every time I tried to corkscrew my legs in a similar fashion, my old ass would cramp and I’d go back to bobbing about.

We caught up on her job search, her recent visit home to look after an ailing parent. I regaled her with stories from high school. Which I seem to be doing a lot of lately. Which tells me I need to do more interesting shit, or I am truly turning into an old lady who can’t remember her PIN sometimes but remembers overnight choir trips from over 20 years ago.

I guess this is me returning to regular blogging about my life. Remember when I used to do that? I was reading old blog posts earlier, and I was immediately struck by a few things:

  1. How poorly written they were. I mean REALLY.
  2. They’re still pretty funny when I actually tell the story, instead of trying to use dumb jokes to make them seem wackier.
  3. I could not be bothered to come up with pseudonyms for anybody.
  4. I think I miss smoking.
  5. I totally miss karaoke. I need to get back to doing that.

My brother blogs everyday, usually about when he woke up, what he ate, when he poops, and what he watched on television. He’s one of the most consistent bloggers I know. Sometimes he is downright inspired, especially when he writes trip reports or, on more sober occasions, about the passing of family members. If I can get him to write a guest post, I will make sure he makes it funny or gross or (hopefully) both.

Note: I’m doing this because Luvvie told me to. Well, not me, explicitly, but I’m answering the #31WriteNow call.

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by | August 1, 2013 · 2:09 pm

an essay for Solo in The 2nd City on the occasion of their first anniversary

This is what I read at the first anniversary party for Solo in The 2nd City, which happened at Beauty Bar on February 13, 2013. This is as written, not as delivered.

Solo in the 2nd City! You are a year old, but you don’t look a day over, um, 9 months.

Solo in the 2nd City! Thank you for giving me an opportunity to speak my mind about being a spinster, excuse me, I mean a single lady, to a room of friendly (or maybe just drunk) strangers, instead of my fellow riders on the Broadway bus.

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ten for tuesday

1. At some point during my tenure at the super awesome private school I attended from seventh grade through upper school (read: high school), Tuesdays after a three day weekend would have a Monday schedule. So instead, of say, starting with math and French then a 15 minute mid-morning break before third period and the rest of your usual Tuesday, you’d have Latin and then assembly for middle school and upper school before break and something awful like a double period of biology.

It wasn’t hard to catch on to the change to the schedule, as any impulse you might have to run to your locker to get your French workbook before class was immediately stricken down by the sight and sound of several hundred girls racing down flights and flights of stairs to the assembly hall. So you’d run to your homeroom, fling your bag in the general direction of your desk, and then hustle downstairs, hoping somebody would save you a decent seat for the morning’s program (good: all male a capella singing group from Yale because hello DUDES and aren’t the Whiffenpoofs basically the private school version of, like One Direction?; bad: talk from mumbling adult about something boring but VERY IMPORTANT like THE ENVIRONMENT).

2. I’m thinking of bringing back my annual list of right-ons, where I’d make a list of things I loved, inspired by Marlys Mullen of Lynda Barry’s comics. I think everybody should do it.

3. I need a perfect, crisp $5 bill to tuck into Hyacinth’s birthday card. Because yes, she is going to be five. And little Nathan is six. And I am older, too.

4. I don’t even want to think about how old I am. Oh, yes I do. Mainly because I love birthdays and mine especially and how I’d dearly love to host a party except my apartment can maybe hold three people. I think I may just invite people to join me at Hot Doug’s on the day and see who turns up to stand on line for a hot dog for a long time. Maybe I could get to Doug’s as soon as they open and just spend the entire day there, holding court at the large round table, and just eating and hanging with people show up until I have to be taken to the hospital on a special hot dog bun stretcher that looks like the life-size hot dog bun at the Chicago History Museum.

i'm delicious

i’m delicious

5. I may finally use the restaurant gift card that Leah gave me for house sitting last year. I am very excited to use it at the Olive Garden. I’ve never been to one. The prospect of unlimited breadsticks makes me very happy.

6. The Shedd Aquarium has a blue lobster. It’s true! He? She? is on reserve, and therefore not visible to the public. You can, however, meet this lobster if you sign up for the behind the scenes tour which, while lacking penguin encounters, is quite informative and fun and you do get to pet these goldfish with bumpy heads.

7. I went to Hot Doug’s yesterday with Carly. We only waited 15? 20? minutes before we made our way inside and ordered lunch. If I didn’t manage to develop gout after eating THREE HOT DOGS and half a large order of cheese fries, then I really must be indestructible. My theory is that I’ve eaten so many processed foods, and there are preservatives left in my body that are keeping me alive (if not exactly healthy).

8. Still watching “Girls” even if the new season is pretty boring so far.

9. My brother and Anna are coming to visit in March. Not the weekend of St. Patrick’s, so we won’t be forced to fight crowds of binge drinkers and tourists. But maybe we should plan on wearing green items anyway so we don’t run the risk of getting pinched in crowds?

10. Thanks to Kim and Joseline’s suggestions, I am now thinking of going to far off places that I haven’t yet saved up for yet. Iceland, Turkey, and Sweden are my top three, though Peru may knock Sweden out of the running.

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