Oy....

So I did not go to ballet yesterday because I've been having back issues. I'm hoping my back issues will lead to a doctor's appointment that goes something like this:

Doc: Nicole! There seems to be only one cause to this problem.
me: Oh really, one?
Doc: Well... two. I'm afraid you're going to need an emergency breast reduction right away.
me: Emergency?!
Doc: It's that grave. Of course this means it'll be totally and completely free of charge, in fact I'd do it pro bono if the hospital had any issues. Let's face it, your size is... well... obscene. I'm surprised this didn't become worse sooner, you must have quite the pain tolerance.
me: Well when I was little I did dare the kids in the playground to try and make me cry by stomping on my toes... I never did.
Doc: Hmm... we might want to get you a psyche consult as well...

Ah yes... I'm guessing it won't quite go that way...

So this morning, I went to work, as I normally do. Got into a mildly crowded elevator and proceeded to be tortured with the most unfunny trying to be funny conversation EVER. Why do all engineers think they're hilarious?? This was one of those conversations you KNOW the guy had with someone else (poor bastard) because it sounds so rehearsed. Imagine this entire conversation delivered in monotone.

Guy1: My son's moving to New York, so I told him, "You can transverse your L skills over there."
Guy2: Oh yes definitely
me: wtf?
Guy1: The standing, the leaning.
Guy2: Exactly how much to lean with all the people... egress
me: you are both clearly from the suburbs
Guy1: ha. ha. Yes egress. When to get on and off.
me: is this my floor? ... fuck...
Guy2: Finding a space to go in when it's crowded.
me: go faster elevator!!!

This is what I'm subjected to day after day after day after daaaaaaaay...

S&TC

My favorite FAVORITE episodes of Sex and the City usually involve Carrie being drunk.

Example 1: The Secret Sex Episode
Carrie gets plastered, goes to Big's place to comfront him about him being 'ashamed' of her. Poured herself a martini, onto the floor.

Example 2: VOGUE!
One of my absolute favorites. Carrie goes to VOGUE to get her first article reviewed. Shows up in a killer dress, unfortunately her article is just ripped apart by one of her editors. Winds up getting plastered with yet some more martinis.
"I'm drunk! ...I'm drunk at VOGUE!"
Gotta love the killer shot of the Vogue shoe closet. ...mmm a moment of silence for the gloriousness of it...

Example 3: Awkward Sex with Berger
I love Berger episodes. Ron Livingston is good times. His wobbly motorcycle skills = classic. What can I say? I am a sucker for those handsome funny guys. Anyway, Carrie and Berger get totally plastered after having awful sex two times. They go back to Carrie's place where Carrie attempts to be a ssssssssseductwessss.
"Looka dat! How daya like dat huh?" ::flashes bra::
Then she oh so non-chalantly strips herself of her sexy shoes... that wind up hitting Berger in the face. HOT.

Example 4: Classic Carrie
This episode always reminds me of Leanne. Cuz she inevitably winds up not-so-gracefully falling on her face but geta up and STILL looks FABulous! Carrie gets invited to be in a celebrity fashion show. After a couple complimentary bottles of champagne her 'big girl' shoes wind up being too big and SPLAT!
Stanford, "She's fashion roadkill!"
Only made better by one of the best disco mantras of the century (yes CENTURY!) "To be REEEEEEEEEEAL!" Yah you know you sang along at the end of the episode.

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And you're singing it now. Yah me too...

Nicole Tries Ballet Part 11

Since I've received oh so many demands for a new blog post (okay it was just one) here ya go.

Last week we did pretty much of the same. Tomorrow is our last class actually. Nothing really exciting happened in class so I'm going to talk about the wedding a bit.

Now Joe and I want to send out invitations June 1st. We actually sent out save the date cards a couple weeks ago (if you didn't get one it's because you're not special... no suriously it is). Anyway, a couple of Joe's friends that were supposed to get one didn't because I DO NOT HAVE THEIR ADDRESSES! You're saying, oh those old friends are so hard to get in touch with. No, no, these are current friends, current friends living maybe a mile away. The list would include, one of Joe's former roommates AFTER college, guys he and his roommates usually hang out with every other week, and the topper on the cake, one of the best men, there's two. After asking Joe to help me, he got ONE guy's address. Finally, I asked his other best man to help. He, who shall remain nameless *cough* Matt *cough* never returned my call. Which was surprising because the boy has a cell phone glued to his right hand. He's in touch with people I haven't seen in eight years. Awesome. To Joe's credit, he lacks the innate nagging ability that was infused into me in the womb through all the amniotic... uhhh... stuff... I decided to take more action.

Here I must admit that I joined facebook a couple months ago-no wait! No, no don't go! I know, I know it's lame, what do you want from me? I only have like 20 'friends.' Anyway, I know two of Joe's friends through facebook. One, again, never returned my messages. Then finally, FINALLY I received a message!!

i am so sorry i didn't respond. i gave up AIM
and Facebook for Lent, really, and I've been
horrible at contact. if you still need any
addresses, please e-mail me: don'tworryiwillsaveyoufromthehopelessabyss@gmail.com

Thanks!
jason

PRAISE JEBUSALLAHBUDDHAWHOEVERHELPEDME!! After I emailed the one guy who actually volunteered to help, he sent this lovely email out to everyone except for ONE GUY (and I didn't expect him to have that guy's info. anyway so it totally worked).

Hey folks:

I don't know why someone out in Nebraska is doing this, but here I go:

Nicole needs your mailing addresses. E-mail her at helpmehelpme@gmail.com

To which one of the guys responded with his multiple email addresses. Do you see why I'm struggling here????

At least, in a matter of hours I had every guy's address except for one. Guess who? The best man's. Figures.

Nicole Tries Ballet Part 10

This may be a long entry. Today's ballet class was a lot of fun. There were only five people there which was really nice, more room to move around. We learned some new things at the barre. Most of which really worked on the leg muscles (surprise surprise). It was harder for me because I was really sore today. I did a pilates abs class at Bally's yesterday and it really kicked my ass. So naturally when we moved to the floor we did abs exercises ::groan::. Needless to say I'll definitely be feeling it tomorrow.

After stretching a bit we started doing jumps. Luckily I thought ahead and put on, not one, but two exercise bras. Oh yah, I was double dutying it up baby. And it worked wonders. We did a complicated combination and I think I could get it if I practiced some more. I just get confused on which foot to lift first because we do right and left sides. After that we did more piques, which I rocked. AGAIN. WHOOP! Let's get to the important part of this entry... I've been promising PICTURES WEEE!!!!! So here is my new black leotard, pink tights and legwarmers:

Flashdance!

Here's me in my new blue leotard and hott pants

Relevae with kitty (only professionals dare to tackle this death-defying move, that's my concentration face)

Sorry for the delay on this post. Things were crazy busy and blogger was giving me a hard time with uploading photos.

So you may be wondering why I'm not talking about my mom coming to class... that's because she WHIMPED OUT!!! It was too bad too because it would've been fun with her there. ::sigh:: Oh well, I'll just keep dancing my little heart out.

On another note, I was talking to a girl in my class and she said she was, "an actress." I asked her what she was working on and she said, "auditioning, EVERYbody's auditioning right now." Hmm... interesting. The actress isn't that great at dancing. She's the extra flexible girl who just isn't picking things up.

Sometimes I wonder about the people in the class, a lot of them have missed a bunch of them. I don't know, for me, I don't want to waste my money by not showing up, not that the classes were really expensive or anything, but I'm a frugal bastard and I hate wasting a dime, dollop of food, etc. I go out of my way to pick up pennies and I eat food far past the expiration date. I'm pretty sure the cream cheese I'm still pulling out is dated a month ago. In fact, I have no qualms about taking laundry to my parent's house still or stealing a bit of their food. I had to talk myself out of stealing the aloe infused toilet paper. I go out of my way to get to The Union on Fridays for their $10 all you can drink beer + well drinks + all you can eat pizza deal. It's $10!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't even buy lunch any more, my cheek-clenched money habits have beaten my laziness into submission. I do spend money on clothes and shoes, but in my defense I WILL wear them until they are pit-stained, full of holes and beyond the help of arm and hammer baking soda.

I think I get these habits from my dad. The guy who picks out TV's from the dumpster and fixes them up (I think he has four in his workshop, not counting the two I have in my apt. THANKS DAD!). He has a bagfull of rags from old clothes that never seem to go away. He also picks out furniture. He has his and hers lazyboys sitting somewhere that he found along with a dinette, two papazans, and I have no idea what else. This is why I love him.

Maybe it's from my Aunt Kathy. Who endlessly cuts up papers that are already printed on to use for scratch. We had mountains and mountains of this scratch paper, it was endless. If this woman had the recipe for post-it glue, she'd be putting them out of business.

OR it could be my crazy grandfather. He puts the 'crazy' into frugal bastard. Yep he's definitely a crazy frugal bastard. He'll stiff people who worked for him and then try and hire them again. He keeps the same decrepit boat around even though it's rotting and squirrel infested. He has the same suits from the 70s (my brothers beg to wear them to school dances) that are bright yellow with gigantic collars. He also has medications decades old. I'm already going to apologize for the next story. When I asked him for q-tips, he showed me his 'stash' of ones that he'd already used but kept around. ::shudder:: Is that something from the handkerchief era, or just my crazy grandpa? I'm thinking just my crazy grandpa.

Search Me

Some of the interesting searches that have sent people to my blog:

Ballet Outfits
Ballet tights
Nude Ballet Videos
Diana DiGarmo in Hairspray
Project Jay

and my favorite
Ballet Cupcakes

Drunken A-holes

I had an interesting night... I was determined to go out tonight because I'm pretty sure I'm going to spend the rest of the weekend in the burbs. Unfortunately, everyone else was determined to stay in. Losers... So I wound up having some drinks at the apartment of James, my BFFeva Meg's boyfriend. There we are, me, Meg, James and one of James's roommate's friends. And this guy is plastered. He went to the Cubs game so he started drinking around 6a.m. ok I exaggerate... 7. We wound up watching Rachel Ray's $40 a Day because it was in Chicago. Rachel decided to take in lunch at Backstage Bistro which is run by culinary students at the Art Institute of Chicago. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Joe had to do this for Kendall except they're open for dinner, too. They're also ranked #1 in the city.
Drunk Guy: Number one in the nation?
Me: No in Chicago.
D.G.: OH! I thought you said in the nation. pish! Number one in Chicago isn't saying much.
Me: It is considering Chicago is one of the biggest cities in the nation.
D.G.: There are other great schools in San Francisco, New York...
Me: I'd think the best school would be in France, and since that's not an option.
D.G.: Yah well it's not like being a chef is that hard anyway.
Me: Oh yah it's SOOOOO easy.
D.G.: Seriously.
Me: Ok. I was being sarcastic.
D.G.: It IS easy you just have to pay attention. All you need to know when you're being a chef is what flavors go with what. You say, "hey onions don't go with this, NO onions!"
Me: And you have experience in this?
D.G.: Well... uh ya-ah. I worked for Outback Steakhouse as a chef AND I cooked for my parents A LOT. In fact when my grandparents became ill with cancer I got a lot of experience cooking for them.
Me (oh great the cancer card, dropping the conversation now since I've met you five minutes ago, awesome)

After that, anything I said the guy just fought me on. Which was awesome. So I left. My cab ride home was also interesting... Cabbie tells me the last guy in the cab jipped him a fare so he "had" to knee him in the gut. I'm feeling very secure at this point. The conversation turns to him not wanting to see Brokeback Mountain "because of those fags." Awesome. I only so much as get out that I do not like that word before I decide to shut up. Definitely not a good idea to argue with a guy after he tells you he just kicked someone's ass.

So that was my Friday night. Good times, wish I'd stayed home...

Nicole Tries Ballet (In Style!) Part 9

It seems my wireless router is broken, no blinking lights, not even the one for power. How this could happen is beyond me, the thing is not even a year old. Oh well... I might shell out the $$ for an apple one just so I can password protect my connection. Anyway, so I don't have pictures of my new outfits yet, but I'll work on it!

Yesterday I went to class wearing my new tights and legwarmers with a blue tee and shorts I already had. I love my legwarmers, even though I'm pretty sure a chick in my building was laughing at me. Whatever. The people in my building (save three) suck. They're all anti-social and snobs. Take my latest conversation with one for example:

Me: Thanks! (for holding elevator door)
Guy in Elevator: Oh they put tile in here.
Me ('duh it's been here for a week but guy has suitcase so will not judge): Yah.
G.I.E.: It looks nice.
Me: I guess, it gets pretty dirty easily though.
G.I.E.: Haha, well we've got to give Jaime (our maintenance guy) something to do! haha!
Me (mumbling with awkward laugh): That's... not... very nice...

I'm all for people doing the job they're paid for, but let's not go out of our way to make more work for them, seriously now. I like having a maintenance guy, but I wait until absolutely necessary to call him for something. Like when my air conditioning fan broke, or when my bathtub had to be snaked (ew), and when I broke a light fixture in my bathroom and I knew he had a replacement.

My next awful encounter with residents had to do with some girls who I don't know even live in the building. If they do, they definitely have daddy paying for it because there is no way they have a steady job. The day of the air and water show last year I threw a party on the rooftop and my parents and some of their friends came and so did a couple of mine including one of my good friends Jess who lives in Florida. A bunch of other people in the building were also there watching the show and drinking. So Jess and I run downstairs to my apartment for... something... probably amphetamines. And we're in the elevator with these three girls who see us push a floor other than ground floor where they're getting off, but somehow still seem surprised when the doors open since they don't move to get out. So Jess and I say, "Excuse us, excuse us!" and push through the dynamic drunk trio. Just as the doors close, one of them exclaims, "God! People are SO RUDE in this building!" Loud enough to echo down the hall, to which I respond, "OHMYGOD! Aren't they?!" I'm confused on how we were possibly rude. Maybe someday I'll be enlightened.

Anyway, my legwarmers rock! And Miss Gucci Sunglasses can kiss it, she is soooo jealous.

Class turned out to be a huge thigh worker. We were practicing going from the different positions out to second and up on our toes. You go super fast and have to keep yourself turned out. It's quite a work-out on the inner and outer thighs. We also did pirouettes at the bar again. I swear I have an easier time out in the middle doing these things, I don't know why. After some stretching we did jumps. I hate jumps. They hate me. Again, people with bazooms should not be forced to do jumps. Luckily, we moved on to doing piques with turns and then piques coupled with another kind of turn. I did pretty well, I have piques down because they're the easiest step to practice in my little apartment. I have a tiny path from my table to my door that I can go back and forth in.

I got the go ahead from my teacher that my mom can join class. I called her and told her she could definitely come next week with one stipulation: she is not allowed to voice her critiques unless I'm doing something that will definitely cause injury, I really don't want to hear anything negative about my class. I know we stink, and we're not professional, but I don't want to hear it from her. We'll see how this goes... In the next installment of!!!!! NICOLE TRIES BALLET!! STAY TUNED...

Mom?

Last night I had a dentist appointment. I love my dentist. I have been going to the same one since I was 10. So when I moved to the city I had to look for a new one... yah I don't think so. I make the commute back to the burbs every single time just for my dentist. My mom was nice enough to pick me up from the train and take me there and then we went out to dinner. She had the salmon salad I had chick parmesan mmmm.... yummy!

There we were, dipping bread in olive oil and having glasses of merlot while my mom talked about her trip to California to visit my brother. Later on, the subject of my ballet classes came up. For anyone who doesn't know my mom was HUGE into ballet. She started when she was 10 and took until she was 18, went to college and taught classes there and then took more until after my littlest brother (not so little any more) was born. Let's see, so that would mean she stopped in '89. This story, coming from her, is accompanied by many tales of her riding the El at 10 "Can you BELIEVE my parents let me do that! They don't care about anybody but themselves. But I was fine." Going on to high school: "My friend Kim and I would spend hours stretching each other's arches." Then finally: "the doctor said I was ruining my feet and if I kept on doing what I was doing I'd wind up in a wheelchair." I always wondered how she danced for that long because she has the same bazooms that I do! Ouch! And this in the age before exercise bras.

Usually my mom goes on to talk about my cousin Kathleen and how she was an amazing dancer, "She would stand away from the bar, put her leg up behind her in arabesque with her nose down to her knee, then, with her leg up behind her she'd pull her body straight up! I saw her partners class and she was the best one in the room." Kathleen now has her yoga certification, which is no surprise. My mom says Kathleen and I have the same legs, we're both hyper-extended. She insists I would have been a good dancer if I had kept up with it when I was little. The difference apparently being that Kathleen did NOT get stung by a bee in the parking lot of HER dance studio and thus refuse to return to class.

I've got to give my mom credit, with all her obsession over dancing she didn't push me into it. In fact, she never really forced me into any of those hobbies. There was ballet, figure skating (which I quit when I found out I'd be forced to compete if I wanted to move up classes), horse back riding (I decided was too cold in the winter), and I settled on violin (because my best friend in first grade was taking lessons) and tennis (because Bryan and my dad started taking lessons).

Anyway, so there sat me and my mom in the car, driving back to the city and I found myself saying, "no really, you should come just for one class, it could be fun!"

"Oh I don't know... do you think I could just for one?"

"I'll ask my teacher if that'd be okay, it's only 50 min. and you could stay for the advanced class. But I warn you, our class, everybody's awful. And there's a man in a thong and tights. Just a warning."

"Don't you think I've seen that?"

"Sure, but he's OLD... like 50 in a thong and tights, it's a little disturbing."

"Oh I don't care."

So stay tuned... next week... it could be me and my mom... together... in leotards. SCARY!!! Why is the vision of my mom in tights doing pirouettes funny?

How to describe my mother... Yes, she was big into ballet. But she is in no way a pink tights, tutu girl. In addition to ballet my mom's other big obsession is hockey. Yes HOCKEY. When Miracle came out she'd get all teary describing USA's win over Russia. Then she'd launch into the accuracies/inaccuracies of the film's depiction of the games (which she says she has all on tape somewhere). Inevitably she'd settle on the last game where Russia never pulled their goalie, which in the film they say it's because the coach doesn't know what to do because he's never been in that position before. My mom insists it's because he's cocky, his team is a winner and it would show weakness to pull the goalie.

My mom's love of the game is definitely old school. She doesn't memorize stats or players, she takes it all in. She doesn't follow the puck along, she sees the whole ice. When the Blackhawks scoreboard starts to show pictures of their most favored players she rattles them off, but ask her who's number 19 on the team today, she has no idea. When the Stanley Cup comes around, she always roots for the underdog, hence her endless battle to get the Blackhawks to the finals. After a couple of glasses of wine, "My dream... is to watch the Blackhawks in the Stanley Cup finals with my dad."

My mom coached for Purdue when she went there for college making her the first woman to coach collegiate hockey. She was written up in the Blue Line. First, the magazine had another woman in there, and went on to say she wrote all of these books about hockey and yadda yadda... I think my dad contacted them to tell them they made a mistake. So they wrote a retraction and listed my mom as the first, which was funny because she went on to coach two pee wee teams and then enjoyed the game from the audience.

She's been hit by the puck twice. Once in the head when she was coaching and was nine months pregnant with me (no comments please). The other time she was in her seat, and pregnant with one of my brothers. My mom is tough, driven, disciplined.

The vision of my mom, in tights and leotard, and ME doing plies, frankly, makes me laugh.