The Zaftig Chronicles

You should have seen me: a complete wreck: crying, mascara running, tissues flooding the floor of my bedroom. I was in my work clothes, ready to start the day, when I made the mistake of hitting the On Demand button and realizing that The Way We Were was a choice.  I chose.  I chose!  I watched. I cried. I longed. I worshiped. I learned. It was my first time seeing the movie, and it was worth going in late to work. Do yourself a favor, watch the film. It was Sex and City before Sex and the City .

In keeping with my Joan Crawford theme for the last three Halloweens, this year I've decided to attend the office party as Mommie Dearest. Yes, I have my 1940s wig, my open-toe cone-shaped heels, and a jazzy, snazzy floral print dress with shoulder pads out of this world. And of course, I've decided to walk around with plastic hangers, and inform anyone within one inch of me: "NO WIRE HANGERS!!" 10 points extra for my cold-cream covered face. Last year, I was Joan Crawford from the movie Mildred Pierce . No one understood why I was wearing thick red lipstick, boxy-as-hell shoulder pads, and why I was acting fidgety. "Does anyone fucking watch classic films?" I remember shouting over the phone to Diana. "You're 24, Zaftig; classic for you is Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman," replied Diana. "Yeah, but not everyone is my age, Diana! I think people were being ignorant on purpose." Everyone has seen Mommie Dearest , and so this costume shoul...

My head hurts; my throat hurts; there's confetti in my hair; and I'm wearing a too tight White Sox t-shirt that I purchased for $45 outside of my office today (all he had were smalls). I think a few people enjoyed the view of my breasts cupped in a shirt that rides high and tightens across the chest. Anyway, this city is going nuts. But everyone's not going too nuts, because, well, it ain't the Cubbies winning. This city is a Cubs city and no World Series win by the White Sox is going to change that. Traffic is a nightmare, and I don't know how I'm going to get home.  No point for this post, but just to say hi.

If there is anything that can assuage a bad day at work, then it's watching the White Sox win the World Series. It's really a special moment for baseball in Chicago. And I wouldn't be a true Chicagoan if I didn't dedicate a post to my favorite team. I should be in bed, but right now work has pissed me off, and the White Sox have countered that.  I choose the White Sox.  Work can have my groggy, cranky ass tomorrow morning. And late at that. Right now, I'm just giving the love.

Go White Sox! And even though I'm a North Sider , the White Sox has always been my team. And now they may win the World Series. In this world of chaos and turmoil, it's nice to root for something.  Jan's beside himself. We seriously need to get tickets.

We're all just tiny specks in the scheme of life. We're not that important.

Men. Eyeliner. Muscles. Bad bleach jobs. Swollen lips. Beautiful blue eyes (Leto). Terrible acting (Everyone!). Unnecessary trembling to convey emotion. Trite. Clichéd. Rhys-Meyer and Leto should be lovers. Farrell sucked. Stone's an idiot. Night wasted. Diana unhappy. Jan very unhappy. The horror.

Sometimes looking at beautiful pictures online makes me feel the world is okay. Usually, the pictures in the Entertaining section of Martha Stewart's website usually does the trick. Look at beautiful pictures and be okay.