Let's hope that I don't *bleep* it up

Punch Drunk Love (made for 2)


2 oz strawberry daquiri mix
1 oz grain alcohol
2 oz white rum
2 oz cranberry juice
1 oz sweetened lime juice
Maraschino cherries


Mix grain alcohol, rum and lime juice in a cocktail shaker over ice and shake it like it owes you money.  Add cranberry juice and daquiri mix and shake it again (because it may be holding out, who knows?).


Pour the delicious concoction over ice in a hurricane glass.  Garnish with the cherries and enjoy!


Why is it that whenever you cook for a new boyfriend for the first time, almost everything goes wrong? You never flip the omelet just right, your pancakes look a tad too pale and you accidentally overcook the veggie sausages... Ay dios mio!

Oh did I mention that Isaac and I are like official?

Yeah.

It happened a few weeks ago (I tried to write about it, but had some computer issues and unfortunately the post was lost).  I have been travelling for work an extensive amount and seem to always end up on the flights that are delayed, or have to fly through some cataclysmic storm or something.  One particular day I was having an especially trying time at the airport (long lines, late flights, delays, get on the plane, get off the plane, delayed again, yadda yadda yaddda) and Isaac was picking me up from the airport.  My flight was 4 hours behind schedule and landed at 1AM, but Issac was still there waiting for me. He gave me the biggest hug (exactly what I needed) and I just wanted to go home and hit the sheets.  As he loaded my luggage in his trunk, I opened the passenger side door and there was a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting on the seat.

He just stopped at the supermarket and picked up a large bouquet that were a bit mangled from having to had survive being picked over all day.

They were perfect.

See, while I totally am in to flowers and that sweet shit, I only like them on those "just because" occasions.  Don't give me flowers on Valentine's day just because corporate honchos at Hallmark and 1-800 Flowers sent subliminal messages telling you to do so. But giving me flowers because I've had a shitty day or just because it's Tuesday? I fucks with that.

Then on the drive from Midway to my apartment he asked me to be his girlfriend.  All high school and official like.

So just like that, Alice has a boyfriend.

I hope I don't fuck it up.

This ain't the love boat (yet?)

Isaac & Coke

2oz honey whiskey
diet cola

Pour both ingredients over cracked ice into a Collins glass and stir lightly.  Enjoy!

So I met a guy.

I wasn't looking - hell for that matter I was taking a break from it all because of all of the foolishness with Brady.  But they always say that when you're not looking...

His name is Isaac and I like him. A lot.  Like I'm all giddy and shit.  Remember folks, I'm thirty-mumble-mumble years old.  My giddy days are long gone, yet I find myself smiling each and every time his name appears next to the little android image on my phone.  It's still very new, but he's sorta like my dude.  There are implied dates and we find ourselves discussing plans throughout the rest of the year and the holidays.  Last night's discussion was about what we're going to be for Halloween. A man who is comfortable enough in his manhood to get all silly and dress up just to make me happy. I heart that shit.

He's a bit younger than me, but mature in ways that I would never imagine.  And if you're even thinking about calling me a cougar, I'll totally kick your ass :-) He's not that young, but young enough that we have different memories of the Cosby Show (which is a HUGE deal to me), but when I say "all your base are belong to us" he knows what I'm talking about and falls for me just a little bit more.

He's got to step up his drinking game if he's gonna roll with the kid (his only drink of choice was Jack & Coke and thankfully I was able to turn him on to Evans Honey Whiskey) but I'll definitely work on that with him. Because mama likes her drinks...

Anyway, I just feel crazy amounts of comfortable with him.  I don't want to jinx it (I almost didn't write about it), but  I'm just going to let go and see where ride takes me.

Sabina Rose

****The bar is closed today****

I never met Sabina Rose O’Donnell. Sure I’ve had my fair share of drunken milkshakes at PYT, but I don’t think that she was ever my server. Yet I have been crying a lot since I read about her brutal murder. I cry not because I knew her. But because I am her.

Sabina was beaten, raped, strangled and robbed outside of her home as she travelled from a friend’s house just 4 blocks away one late night. I can’t tell you the number of times that I’ve taken a similar path. Walking home after the bar because it was a beautiful night and I was a little tipsy, so my feet didn’t realize that they hurt. Trying to avoid the walk of shame in the AM by sneaking out and walking home at 3 instead of when the sun made an appearance. Opting to take the bus or walk because I didn’t want to be a burden to my driving friends (although I know that they have never minded taking me home). Hell, even a week before her death while on travel for work I tried to walk back to my hotel after seeing a midnight movie, until the front desk woman refused to let me and made me promise to call for security to pick me up after my 2 ½ hour movie was over.

It’s not that I thought that the world was necessarily safe, but I think that I have become boastfully prideful. And I’m not alone. Most of my girlfriends are the same way. We’re die hard city girls. Tough as nails and fiercely independent. We have men around because we want them, not because we need them. We can take care of ourselves financially and physically and would never want people to think otherwise. My move to Chicago is a prime example. Here I am in this big city completely alone. When I go out, I’m going alone and before last week, I didn’t think twice about it. “I got me” is what I’ve been telling anyone who inquired about my safety. Sheeiiiit, I’m grown. Right?

But what I and so many women haven’t been realizing is that being “grown” is about being responsible and we need to start by being responsible for our own safety. Meaning that we create and use our support system. Your circle isn’t only there to rally around you when some dude has done you dirty, but to keep you safe.

So, just like Oprah asked everyone to pledge to refrain from using cell phones in the car, I’d like to ask my girlfriends to pledge to create a safety circle of at least 2 friends and to always use it. Have back-ups in case the first two are unavailable and do the following:

-Leaving anywhere late at night, have someone you trust walk you to your car. If you’re heading to a bus/train ask them to stand with you until it comes. One day I’d like to see establishments offer courtesy escort services to female patrons. Until that day, ask for one.

-When dropping a friend off at their door, DO NOT PULL OFF until they are inside of the house. After you drop the last person off, use your hands free device and stay on the phone with someone until you get to your destination.

-If you’re on a bike, use a hands free device and stay on the phone with someone until you get inside.

-Stop promising to text when you get in and forget because you fell asleep. Always text the people you were with to let them know that you’re home safe. If someone was supposed to text you and the time for them to be at their destination as passed – call to make sure that they’re safe.

-Even if you’re in a cab (and I know we’ve all been in some cabs with drivers who are too forward and/or just give you the skeeves) text someone the name of the cab company, the driver’s ID number (their ID should always be displayed) and a description of the driver.

-Finally, offer up your couch, spare bedroom, half of your bed or creatively layered blankets and a spot on the floor to your late night visitors. If they turn down the offer – insist until they promise to stay or to do one of the above.

There are always going to be monsters out there, but let’s make it harder on them. This isn’t about being paranoid or a damsel in distress. It’s about being safe and responsible.

Sheeiiiit, we’re grown.

Right?

Boy Talk

Thinker...

2 oz white rum
1 oz blue curacao
2 oz guanabana nectar
1 tbsp sweetened lime juice

Mix all ingredients in a cocktail shaker over ice (if you haven't noticed by now, 99% of my drinks involve a cocktail shaker) and shake it like you're starring in a Shake Weight commercial.
Pour into a chilled martini glass and garnish with a maraschino cherry.

Sip and think and sip and think...

So I haven' really gotten around to talking about the boys.  Some have a super long and complicated history and frankly, I just haven't had the time (or wanted to give them the energy) of going into detail.  But tonight I received a message from one of them and it got me going.

His name is Brady.  We dated on and off and on and off for 5 years. We have an insanely complicated history that includes pain and heartache and tears.  It also had joy and laughter and (lawd knows) pleasure.  In the end (I say "end" gingerly because who knows when it will ever really end?) we weren't on the same page.  I wanted to settle down and start a family. He did not.  I decided that I couldn't go on any further knowing that I wouldn't be happy with the tumultuous nature of what we had.  It was like he only wanted the things that I wanted when I threatened to take them and me away. 

The Chicago move was made easier by our last year.  I think that I did more crying that year than any other and when I gave him an ultimatum to move forward or move on he called my bluff.  I honestly think that he thought that me relocating was all bullshit. After all, not many people uproot their entire lives and move 750 miles away with no support system and for what seems to be no apparent reason.  It's not like I was going away to school or HAD to move for a job (we all know how that worked out).  But he was wrong. Before I left I refused to see him.  He kept saying that we needed closure. Unbeknownst to him I'd had my closure when I decided to start interviewing and apartment hunting in Illinois.  He would send me text messages and drive by my house testing whether or not I had actually left.  Then one day he drove by and there was a moving truck outside.  I don't think that he knows that I saw him, but I did.  I think of him often.  I was so close to calling him a few days ago just to tell him that I missed him, but I didn't.  It wouldn't have been healthy for me or helpful to what my new reality is.  I'm moving forward with everything in my life and old relationships need not be resurrected.  

Then tonight I got a text message (I set it so that all of his calls go directly to voicemail) and he said that he wants all of the things that I want.  That he was ready to settle down and ready to start a family with me. That the timing was off before, but now it's right.

His timing...

I told him that he was 3 months too late and to have a good night.

And now I'm crying and thinking and writing, and it's 2005 and 2006 and 2007 and 2008 and especially 2009 all over again.

Amber Alert

Amber Alert


2oz Canadian Whisky
1oz Honey Liqueur
1oz Fresh Squeezed Lemon Juice
2oz Water


Combine all ingredients into a cocktail shaker and shake it like it stole something.  Pour over cracked ice into a Collins glass. Garnish with a slice of lemon, or if you want to get fancy use one of those honeycomb stick dealies.


Enjoy!


Alice where the hell have you been???


As you can imagine a LOT has happened since the offer came through and I went apartment hunting. I'm in the airport now, so I'll give a condensed version of events.  About a month before I was supposed to start my new job (2.5 weeks before I packed up a moving truck and gave Philly the heave-ho) I was informed that the department that I was to be overseeing was "restructured" and that the position that I was offered "no longer existed".


Who the fu -


What?


Livid does not even describe how I felt. Mind you, I had already placed a non-refundable deposit on my apartment, reserved and paid a deposit on a moving truck and had multiple going away parties.  All that was left was to hand in my resignation, pack up my house and hit the road. Again, I ask... WHAT??


When my anger and resentment subsided, prayer and good effin' friends set in.  I decided that with the emotional support of my friends, the financial support of my savings and the wherewith all to become a Chicagoan, I was going to go anyway.


So that's what I did.  I turned in my resignation, packed up my house and hit the road.  16 hours later (google maps lies terrible and vicious lies) I pulled in front of my building and smiled.


I was home.


Now newly unemployed and ineligible for unemployment benefits, what was I to do? uhh... get a job.  Now granted, I'm in a field that is somewhat particular, so while that doesn't necessarily mean that there are jobs a plenty, it's a small professional circle and I have a pretty good reputation.  So I started interviewing.  And while I interviewed I did some consulting that while not as much as I was used to making, helped me and the cat from surviving off of the same food.


Then nearly two months to the date of my arrival into the windy city I got an offer for an awesome job and I started this week.


So here I am in the airport (my new job requires tons of travel, which I love) on my way home.


To Chicago :-).


It was a little rough, but so worth it.  I finally shut up and put up and I couldn't be happier.