Here's the Deal...

I'm probably the biggest procrastinator you've never met. I put off everything from waking up in the morning, to getting ready to go to bed. It takes me 5,000 miles extra to get an oil change on my car, two days longer to pay my bills- even though I have the money just sitting in my account, and twenty minutes more than it should to get to work because I try to delay my eight-hour work day for as long as possible.

So, with that in mind, I've made the most ridiculous New Year's resolution for myself this year. It's something so far-fetched, so unrealistic, so ludicrous that it just may work to help cure me of my horrible disease.

I am making it my personal business to keep this blog jumpin'. By 2011, I must have 400 marvelous, fantastic, upsurd, over-the-top posts. But, wait! There's more!

I've had this dream of writing a book ever since I could pick up a pen. I've started about 26 different novels and 32 collections of my best work. Being the procastinator I am, obviously I have yet to make it even halfway on any of these masterpieces. So this is what I'm proposing- on top of the 400 posts, I must also begin, continue and complete a novel.

This is my mission, should I choose to accept...

Octo-Mom...

While I am pretty dedicated to my dislike for Chicago, it was brought to my attention that Nadeya Suleman is a disaster. This girl needs some blogging...
Dear Naedya,
You are one crazy bitch. I can't seem to understand anything about you, except for the fact that people like you are the reason our economy is so messed up. Do you watch the news? I'm sure you do, you're on it every damn day.
Why, in God's green earth, would you have six embryo's implanted in your uterus when you don't have a job, are not married, and already have six little rugrats running around?
I could understand if you get pregnant as a result of a crazy night with memories of Patron and Makers. I could even understand if you got caught up in the moment and had unprotected sex. Hell, I would even believe 3 different forms of failing birth control. But, I will never understand what you did. There are plenty of ways to make money.
For example, you could strip. From what I can see, you don't have a strand of moral fiber in your being, so I don't think taking your clothes off for money would be that big of a problem for you.
Hey, why not be a prostitute? Oh, that's right, you don't like to have sex, you just like to be implanted with things (babies, collagen, etc.).
I hate people like you. You are a drain on society and a disgrace to the human race. Get a job.
You already got $4,000 a month for your other kiddos, and now you have 8 more. You get more free money than I earn in a year- and I have a college degree, and a job!
We should put you in jail. Better yet, we should rip out your uterus and put it on display at Ripley's Believe it or Not, because trust me, no one would believe that someone as stupid as you exists.
What was going through that little head of yours? I'm guessing nothing because its too full of fake shit. And by the way, you are not Angelina Jolie. Even she's not as crazy as you.
So, Octo-Mom, I guess what I am trying to say is get off my t.v., radio, magazines, and perezhilton. Your face makes me want to get my tubes tied, and I'm only 23. I don't want to raise your kids, hell, I don't even know if I want to raise my own. But, I do know that you are one crazy bitch.
Sincerely,
Amanda

Parking Meter Rates

I must also mention that parking meter rates in Chicago have sky-rocketed because of a recent attempt by Daley to sell-out this city. Take a look for yourself.

I'm going to miss this place

Growing up, I was a victim of a small town. I listened to country music, attended “field parties,” and knew everyone within a 15 mile radius. I spent my summers on my grandparent’s farm, playing with wild animals and picking green beans from the garden. I considered I Love Lucy to be the last, great television show and I never used a computer until I was forced to in school. Did I mention I am only 22?

I have spent the last four years living in Chicago. Chicago and I have this love-hate relationship; I hate it 95 percent of the time, and absolutely love it the other 5 percent. It has this funny way of changing your life by not changing anything at all. It is absolutely contradictory, yet it constantly promises the same things.

I hate the El and buses, bicyclists and motorists, Chicagoans and tourists. I don’t understand why people would want to visit this place that has nothing to offer but expensive shopping and tall buildings. The other day, as I was walking to work, a homeless man spit in my coffee. I wish I could say that was the first time that happened.

And now, as I am preparing to move from this imposture of a city, I digress. I really am going to miss this place...