Weatherby

I decided to not buy a $58 parking permit for the summer.
Saving money feels...sweaty.
Did you know that it's hot during the summer in Georgia?

Anyway, I had a fantastical first day of school.
I learned some things, man, and some stuff.

Things: how to account for business combinations
Stuff: the cycle of bills through Congress

Sometimes, my brain gets really distracted by the language used to describe what's going on. For instance, when my teacher says that some tax bills die on the House floor, I imagine something humorous, but tragic, like this:

Click to enlarge

Like- wouldn't it be hilarious if there was a death tax for the death of a tax bill? The bill's estate would decrease in value...

I don't know why the Republican is dressed like Steve Jobs; it just kind of happened.
But don't you like how I make the cartoon so politically ambiguous that you don't know what party with which I am affiliated?

I don't know why I still picture congressmen as old farts that wear wigs and speak in a British accent. I feel like there must have been a war sometime in the past over that...

That comment is so incredibly relevant to July the 4th, which will be happening next week.
Just thought I should point that out.

Also, I'm like 73% certain that I'm going to start taking the CPA exam next spring and be Allie J, CPA by next June.
Wowzers, right?
This kid's growing up!
But there's still a 27% chance that it won't happen, so no counting chickens, or else this might happen:

Chickens                                                     3
Loss on counting chickens                        1
             Eggs                                                     4

*sigh*
I'm going to have to start teaching you guys accounting just so you can get my jokes.

Marshmallows and sunshine,
TWS

Bridges

I've been bored a little lot recently.
I even sat out by the pool yesterday and read all about bankruptcy law.
I know a lot now, even though I'm not really sure the difference between filing Chapter 7 or Chapter 11. I think it's cool how they left gaps in the Code just in case they ever needed to go back and change stuff, but I think for now they should fill the remaining chapters with sprightly fiction until they need to use them.
That way, when someone's just reading along, they'll become less depressed that they have to file for bankruptcy, and instead be inspired by the way the characters in the gap-filling stories overcome evil with good works, fantastical creatures, and  magical weapons.

Is it weird that I'm actually looking forward to starting my accounting classes next week?
(Beth, shutchomouth)

Anyway, besides school work, I shall now delineate (SAT word) to you up to what I have been.

I've long contended that Facebook is not a diary, though people still delight in treating it as such. I would complain, but that would mean I would have to stop visiting the site, which is something I seem to not be able to accomplish.

So in lieu of complaining, I troll.
How do I troll?

Friend #1 on newsfeed posts something about being scared/nervous/unprepared for some event.

Friend #2 right below Friend #1 on newsfeed posts inspirational quote about courage.

Allie J copies exact quote from Friend #2 and posts as a comment on Friend #1's status.

Friend #1 "likes" my "comment".

It's amazing to me that I still have Facebook friends.

I also play this game called Cat Paparazzi. It's when Sam is laying around being a kitty, and I get all up in his face and take lots of pictures of him.

I think he enjoys all the attention.

As aforementioned, I've also been going to the pool some. When I change to leave, I put my clothes on the bed. Sam then lays on them and consequently warms my underpants for me while I'm gone. Which feels absolutely delightful when I get back.

Do you blame me for being slightly insane? I hang out with a cat all day.

I wrote another limerick:

Once on a hot summer day

I went water-skiing on a lake

But there's no story to tell

Because every time I fell

Into a very powerful bidet.

That's a true story.

I also made some business cards:

(Yes, this is a joke)

And I've been watching some Important Things with Demetri Martin which, contrary to popular belief, is actually funny.

I've also been sewin', sewin', sewin'.

Check out this dress I've been making. I mixed the bodice from one pattern with the skirt from another, and I'd consider the result very successful. 

It's The Picnic Dress, featuring me standing on a tub without any makeup. Wow.

I haven't hemmed it yet because I can't decide if I want the 1950s long-dress look, or if I should go a little shorter.

A side view:

The back: 

Look at how my seams match up and the cool pleats and my centered zipper! 

(read: look at how successful I'm being at life!)

One day I'm going to get a real job. 

I'll get a butler and then I'll get a butler to be the butler's butler,

TWS

Instead

I did a nerd thing last night.
I made a flow chart about the next year or so of my life.
I started doing this about a year ago...

*at Student Accounts*
Caleb: A Two Year plan? Allie, you already have the next two years of your life planned out? Who DOES that?

I do that.
And it really helps me deal with the best and worst outcomes of possible life-changing situations.

This one, however, is a little more complex...

(click to enlarge)

It starts with this summer, takes me through finishing grad school, getting an awesome job, taking certification exams, marrying Mike and ends with me living happily ever after.

*smile*

I also reserved a bubble for "sometimes cry at night", you know, for when things don't go as they should. 

Me: I had a dream that you had a convertible. I've always wanted one.
Mike: Yeah...I'm not really too crazy about convertibles.
Me: Well, maybe I can...convert you.

I bought my Awesome Chair tonight. It's simply a comfy chair that I can use to sit outside on my patio and be awesome. It has two cup-holders and a little zippered pouch that I have just now recently discovered.
I could keep chapstick in it.  
This chair may be revolutionary.
It could be life changing.
Or it could just be a chair.

In any case, it allows me to sit on my porch and watch all the tattooed shirtless guys across the way drink beer on their porch. I think I just barfed a little. Such a wonderful summer evening.

During the past two weeks, Mike and I finally got around to watching all of the Lord of the Rings movies, including the 1977 animated version of The Hobbit. Here are my ratings:

The Hobbit: **
The Fellowship of the Ring: ***
The Two Towers: (*)(*) (that's negative two stars. Or boobs. Your pick.)
The Return of the King: *****

Me: I think Sauron was just misunderstood.
Mike: Really?
Me: No. But maybe. But no.
Mike: His eye was inflamed.

Yes, that was a pun. And here's another Mike pun: at the end of the 3rd pirates movie when Will's about to go away for 10 years and he gets all up in Elizabeth's face like he's going to kiss her and then he turns around and doesn't.
Mike calls this The Will Turnaround.
(because his name is Will Turner and he turns around at the most inopportune times)

Is it better or worse when I explain jokes to you?

King of Anything,
TWS

Cursive

I am an academic.

Which is great for things like school.
And figuring out how to un-jam the copy machine because I can stomach reading the instruction  manual.

I like when I can follow the directions in a book, and it turns out exactly how I want it.

Like this AWESOME fruited chicken salad I made:

Canned chicken, mayonnaise, grapes, mandarin oranges and shredded cheese atop romaine.
Sounds gross, tastes the opposite.

And I like when following directions yields high quality work.

Like this zipper that I inserted into this skirt I'm making:

Or this dress for date night:

But people do not come with books or instruction manuals telling you how to troubleshoot situations or what to do for best results. You just have to figure it out on your own.
And that kind of sucks sometimes.

Over a year ago in the post Playing with Mirrors I wrote the following:

 "I wish I could read guys' minds. Like seriously- climb up into their little attic upstairs (or the garret, if you prefer), go down the long hallway past the sports, and the food, and the video games and come to the filing cabinet where they think about me, if at all, and open it up and just read. And then I would know. How wonderful that would be."

14 months later and I still feel the exact same way.

The predatory wasp of the palisades is out to get us,
TWS

Chicago Tales

Preface

Last week, I went to Chicago.
And unlike everyone in the history of anyone who has ever gone on vacation anywhere, I will not be starting a brand new blog droning on and on about my experiences and how I am so influential in every part of the world.
Because that is redundant.
And stupid.

Chapter 1: Planes

I don't like planes. (But don't tell Gulfstream that because I REALLY want to work for them!)
It's more like I don't like riding in planes.
Although, I've gotten way better at it through this simple epitaph-that's-not-really-an-epitaph-but-we're-calling-it-that-anyway-because-epitaph-is-a-cool-word:

I like roller coasters.
I hate planes.
Solution to planes: treat them like they're roller coasters.

So I just close my eyes during take off and pretend I'm riding Batman!!!!!!!!!!!!
Please do not take that out of context.

Chapter 2: The Ritz

Mum and I stayed at the Ritz-Carlton in Chicago where they have chandeliers in elevators and bowls of expensive mixed nuts strategically placed throughout the hotel. I felt severely under-dressed in my jeans and Converse, but people in Chicago are really nice to me. More on that later.

We had a Lake-Michigan front view on the 23rd floor:

You can't really see the lake, though. It was like 50 degrees, rainy and windy the entire time we were there.
We really couldn't have had worse weather.

Chapter 3: The Museum of Contemporary Art

I have never seen so many male genitalia in my life.

Chapter 4: My Chicago Street Adventure

My whole reason for going to Chicago was to be inspired and to go in a store of one of my favorite designers, Cynthia Rowley.

It was really rainy that Thursday and abominably cold. Like- wind chill of 45 cold. I didn't feel like calling a taxi because taxi rides are even worse than planes. Also, my instructions after my appendectomy were to walk more, increasing endurance and distance.

So I looked up where this store was on my iPad...

Subchapter I: My iPad

I brought it along a substitute for a computer. This was a GOOD IDEA.
Although, most of the e-mails I got were heart-breaking, such as the one from Armstrong Atlantic telling me that they blatantly had better people to interview.
Whatever.
But anyway, I also noticed the following phenomenon concerning myself and my iPad:

I am the 1%.

...and the store was about 2.5 miles away from our hotel in Lincoln Park.

I wrote down the directions, and I started walking. 

In the rain. And the wind. And my umbrella broke. 

But I made it! And I didn't get lost! 

And then I bought a pair of tights that are super comfortable. 

Subchapter II: Allie J Does Not Look Like a Tourist

I really don't. Three different times on my walk, people came to ask me for directions. I guess I looked like I knew where I was going.

So I was on my way back from the store (I stopped in at a Starbucks along the way for a pretentious frappuccino and then continued), and by my calculations, I was about a mile or so from the hotel.
And I was SO TIRED. I had already walked about 4 miles and my dogs were barking. Not to mention, there was this strange (black) guy that came up to me, asked me how I was doing, my name, if I had a boyfriend, and if I was faithful.

I pointed the ring on my finger and did the thing from Won't Get Fooled Again (skip to 7:49) by the Who:
"YEEEEEEEEEEAH!"
And then he walked away.

So anyway- I was about a mile away from the hotel, and a car pulls up and two guys inside ask me for directions to North Michigan Ave. I was like, "I'm not from around here, but that's actually where I'm headed. You go straight, make a right on Lake Shore and that becomes N. Michigan."

Listen to me. Like I'm a city dweller.

And they were like, "Thanks! Hey- do you need a ride?"
And since I'm young, stupid, and not at all afraid of death, I said ok and got inside!

*audience gasps because rape exists*

C'mon, guys. They weren't shady. And it was SO RAINY.

They were looking for a coffee shop on the street and their GPS had gotten all confused with the street name changes. In thanks of my generous directions, they dropped me off near my hotel, and everyone lived happily ever after.
Free ride = win.

And then Frank Sinatra's My Kind of Town instantly started playing in my head:

This is my kind of town, Chicago is
My kind of town, Chicago is
My kind of people, too
People who smile at you...

It's a fantastic song.
And that's the true story of how Allie J doesn't look like a tourist.

Chapter 5: Shoppin'

Mum and I went shopping in a 7-story shopping mall inside the same building as the hotel.

And here is a picture of me with some dresses made out of candy wrappers.

It combines two of my interests: clothing design and candy.

I like candy. 

(that one's for you, Mike. And also nuggets. That is all.)

Chapter 6: Airport Security

I think it's interesting that in a U.S. court of law, you're assumed innocent until proven guilty.
In airport security, however, you are treated guilty until proven innocent.

So in the O'Hare airport (which remarkably resembles the Terminal stage on Call of Duty MW2, btw), they have signs about how kids under 12 don't have to take their shoes off and neither do old people over the age of 75. If terrorists know this, couldn't they just hide their contraband in other people's shoes?
This is why exceptions to rules are dumb. If you make too many exceptions to rules, then they just become silly guidelines that no one even understands anymore.
Example: the Internal Revenue Code.

I had a half-full bottle of water in my purse when they shoved it through the scanner. At the end of the conveyor belt, the guy pulls out the bottle and was like- "You can't have this. Let me rerun this."

As in- let's rerun this bin that we JUST put through with one less thing in it and see if anything comes up this time.

Meanwhile, my pants were falling down because my belt was in the same bin.

Turns out, surprise, that nothing else in my purse was treacherous save for the life-threatening water.

But sure, the 10 year-old kid with C-4 in her tennis shoes can board.

THESE POLICIES AND PROCEDURES DO NOT MAKE SENSE TO ME.

Epilogue

I missed Georgia. I really did. The weather, the boyfriend, the sweet tea, the lower food prices...
But I had a nice time and came back super inspired with several sewing ideas.
I love inspirational places.

One town that won't let you down
It's myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy kind of town,
TWS