Lord Help Me, Elizabeth This is the Big One

There are zombies and then there are toddlers with tiaras. I’ve been holed up in hotel rooms with very little free time to do anything other than treat my brain to flat screen mush. I have become a cable tv victim. Sprawled out on a dialed up sleep-number bed, like a character from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, I have been ending my days with junk food, bottles of wine and yes! Toddlers & Tiaras. A week later, my motor skills are lacking and I can’t stop hitting myself.

Frankly, I am terrified of Toddlers & Tiaras. I worry that one day, I will look out my hotel window and see a sea of toddlers with tiaras, foaming at the mouth, carrying bags of sugar, and on a quest to take over the world. I know that when I run into a zombie, I will put a stake in it’s heart. I wonder […]

When I grow up, I wanna…

“I’m so sick of being 24!” says my massage therapist. He’s digging his hands into my fleshy muscles and releasing my real world tension. As he rubs my backside, I think about how I’m: unemployed, have super crappy heath insurance, just paid a plumbing bill that started out at $350, and then, “Lady, it’s lookin’ more like a thousand bucks, want us to finish?”

et fucking cetera!

My massage guy goes on. “I am so tired of going out and being all dressed up, and all of the sudden some stupid drunk girl walks up to me and steals my hat. Like, that’s super cute or something? And then her boyfriend comes over and is all, “That’s my girlfriend, so lay off.”

“And I’m like, hello??? I’m GAY. I dont’ like your stupid girl friend, I just want my hat back.”

As he angrily  kneads my back, I choke back  tears, and happy/mush feelings. My mascara is […]

Clean up your junk

The guys were actually kind of on to something with their locker room jokes. I could tell by the escalated laughter resounding from the boys in the corner, that conversation had turned to the gutter. I decided to cross over the fence of ladies and move to the male side of the party. Who doesn’t love a little dirty talk?

It all started with my husbands bushy beard. A male friend was combing his fingers through the nest and remarking about the soft bristles.This lead to a laundry list of wishes that female fuzz was equally as pet-able. A suggestion was made that the ladies grow out their landing strips and groom their shag rugs Bo Derek style, corn roll braids with little beads on the ends. My husband suggested that eventually, when the braids were long enough, they could be cut off and made into friendship bracelets. I believe the men were […]

Let me take you on a magic mustache ride

The fake mustache trend showed up on the runway in 2008. Who would have thought that four years later, the accessory would still tickle both our fancy and our upper lip? My girlfriends and I got together last weekend for an annual pillow fight. Once in a blue moon, we kick our husbands, kids, and cats to the curb for a night of girl bonding. One of the ladies surprised us with a package of adhesive facial hair and the next thing we knew, stars were born.

We went on a magic mustache ride; a journey right up there with the one time I declined a proposition to join the mile high club. Each of us, stood up from cozy bar stools and became thespians. Before we could control what was happening, we were all acting like guyz. “Yo, whad up with the sushi?”

How bout’ a beef sammie, make […]

My Husband’s Secret Weapon

Let’s get real, it’s not always the thought that counts. A bad gift is sometimes worse than nothing at all. It can leave the recipient wondering what about this so called present said “me?” One of my wedding gifts was a whimsical candle display that resembled a Ferris wheel. It had hearts all over and best of all, it was tarnished. The box was dented from falling off a truck. I was like, “Thanks for your piece of shit gift.”

Chameleon is at 130 North Oak Park Ave, Oak Park, IL 60301 (708) 445-1175

My husband Greg, on the other hand, always selects the perfect “little something”. My man knows what I want, even when I don’t know myself. That, my friends, is talent … and he is so hired to be my hubby.

Nothing is worse than opening up a wrapped box that’s hard to understand, like a dick in […]

My mama says…

The top was down on her silver convertible and my mother waved at me as I got off the train. When I got into her car, I gave her a funny look. “What are you listening to?” I ask. She gives me THE LOOK. “It’s Britney Spears, I like it’ she says. As we drive through Geneva, I remark that there are a lot of weirdos in the area…lots of people dressed up in red white and blue. My husband is in the back seat, car watching. “Did you check out that Bently?” he asks.

Me and my mamma back in the day. I'm the freakishly tall one.

I’m getting the feeling that I’m about to get called out. My stomach hurts. I anticipate that I’m grounded for life. I’m looking around at the massive trees and houses, listening to the wind breeze into my ears. My mom breaks the quiet and […]

7-year-old with a paycheck

I was seven years old when my parents dumped me off at Woodfield Mall.  This was a childhood dream come true, a pocket full of money, stores galore…including one that sold nothing but cookies and best of all absolutely no mature supervision. Mind you, this is way before the days of pedophiles and  my parents trusted me. They were responsible parents releasing I was better left to my own folly while they smoked pot and made macramé curtains. I marched into that mall with one thought in mind, to buy a white stag ski jacket. At this point in life, I envisioned growing up and becoming a professional skier, but something happened on this day that changed this goal and I will never forget.

"Sting" my first ski jacket

I walked into the mall Gallery, a store devoted to selling “fine” art. I looked around and nearly gaged from the sappy paintings of ships, puppies, kittens, and worst of […]