The Audacity Of Hope: Chi-City Living

Sunday Morning Jamz

2009-11-29T09:19:00.000-08:00

If you are not shaking your booty within the first 15 seconds of hearing this song, there is something seriously wrong with you

I Like This Song.

2009-10-21T18:33:00.000-07:00

Taco Bell Has Run Out Of Ideas (No Really I'm Serious This Time You Guys)

2009-10-20T16:26:00.001-07:00

You know what the best part about working in a glorified basement is? You only get one station on the radio, and that station is B96.

You want to hear the same techno remix of that one Kings of Leon song on the hour, every hour? You got it. B96 can make it happen 4U.

I would wager to say that the best part of radio today is the commercials. I don't really sing along to songs on the radio anymore, but man when that ad for Heavenly Bodies comes on, I can't help but chime in when the announcer says "Ladies, are you having trouble paying the bills?". Its so catchy!

Well today I heard an ad so shocking that I HAD to let all my internet friends know about it. Yes, I am talking about the Taco Bell Blackjack Taco commercial.

Ok so there is only one part of the commercial that is really all that shocking. Forget about the fact that the taco shell is a sad deviation from its true mexican taco shell roots (by the way i would be really paranoid that eating a black taco would turn my teeth black but i digress). I am talking about the UNTRUE and UNFOUNDED statement that Taco Bell's blackjack taco is the coolest taco around.

No sunglasses? No leather jacket? No hot rod? No sir, this taco is not cool*. This taco is an abomination. Also, I don't know about you, but never in my life has the coolness of my taco been a deciding factor of whether or not I want to eat it. Just sayin.

*Upper Left: Obviously, this is the coolest taco. Chalk it up to inexperience, Taco Bell.

New Post New Post New Post

2009-10-17T10:36:00.000-07:00

Coming soon you guys, keep your pants on jesus christ.

Hey Guys Listen To This

2009-06-26T18:15:00.000-07:00

Preferably late at night when it's 9,000 degrees in your apartment and you're standing in front of the open freezer door in a vain attempt to not die of heat stroke. At least, that's how i'd do it.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU GUYS

2009-06-26T18:06:00.001-07:00

Did you know lightning bugs are carnivores? WTH? Other animals that are carnivores: Lions, Wolves, Dinosaurs. This is serious bznss folks.

Left: "Hey dude whats up? Mind if I eat you? Cool."

WTF: Insanely Loud Neighbors

2009-01-22T07:56:00.000-08:00

Ok, so, it doesn't have to be Ryan Gosling, but for god sakes will someone help me out here? I am really sick of being woken up in the middle of the night by pulsating beats and terrible synth loops. I am also convinced that 95% of the time they are walking around the apartment in moon boots. The third blow (in what can only be described as an aural incarnation of the Red Army's Winter Offensive) is the INSANELY loud vibrating cell phone that I can hear THROUGH MY CEILING that goes off pretty much every other night at around four in the morning. How is that even possible? My only guess is that they are in possession of some sort of prehistoric cell phone ala the Flinstones that is made out of the femur of a brontosaurus and whose vibrating function is powered by some sort of crude mammoth/pulley system.

What's the best way to fix this problem? I'm thinkin passive aggressive post-it on their door or relentless broom handle-to-ceiling action. That'll totally work, right guys?

Amazing.

2009-01-18T19:53:00.000-08:00

me: how was your weekend?

Dan: pretty chill

accidentally drank a bottle of wine and some sparks last night, then watched youtube, Mr. Show, and finally He-Man Masters of the Universe on a projector

me: haha

that sounds awesome

me: minus the sparks part

that stuff is foul

Dan: yeah that was more for the not sleeping problem I guess

4AM - accomplished!

me: i need to bottle my non-sleeping abilities

and sell it

to hipsters

i shall call it

STARKS

Found.

2009-01-18T17:46:00.000-08:00

The most important thing you learn about making it through Chicago winters alive is probably "the walk". It's what you see on the evening news during the weather segment- you know, stock footage of truly miserable looking people trudging down Michigan Avenue, so bundled up you can't even tell where the poly-fill nylon ends and the lazy Midwestern fat begins. It can basically be summed up as: Shuffle shuffle dear god my lungs they are so cold ok just breathe through your scarf look down so the tears don't freeze your eyelids shut. Simple, yet effective.

A few weeks ago during a particularly nasty snowstorm, I was concentrating very hard on the sidewalk in order to keep the number of times I bit it on the ice to under a baker's dozen (note to readers, most definitely failed this mission in the most epic of ways: by falling down right in front of a really cute have-a-minute-to-save-the-children? dudes). While I am usually unable to find even the most obviously misplaced items (sunglasses on the head, keys in pocket, tube of lipgloss in the dryer-you know, the usual), my girls-love-sparkly-things instinct kicked in as I spotted something shiny in the snow. I picked up what looked like an engagement ring, and what I have found out is a real diamond set in white gold.

So the question remains: What to do with the ring? After weeks of trolling the Craigslist lost and found, I've decided to give up on trying to find its owner. My options are as follows:

1. Re-size the ring to fit my own finger. One this about this ring is that it is HUGE. It's barely even snug on my thumb, leading me to believe that it may quite possibly be the engagement ring of a sasquatch or a women's rugby team captain. Anyways, I can only imagine the fun times to be had at the bar by picking up random dudes and then later showing them the ring and telling them about my crazy-jealous ex-con Fiancee! Plus, I'm pretty excited to witness the caliber of dude that is attracted to an obviously-engaged chick.
2. Keep the ring until the day I find the one man I want to spend the rest of my life with (Casey Affleck, i'm lookin right at you). Seriously, this ring is dude-sized!
3. Take the ring to a pawn shop and trade it in for something really awesome, like a Jesus chain or a flying-V electric guitar. I am a little concerned about the karmic implications of pawning what is essentially a symbol of someone's love cast aside, but c'monnnnn, FLYING V GUITAR!

So guys, what should I do? Leave your answers in the comments section!

DO WANT

2009-01-14T13:48:00.001-08:00

Oh man, how adorable is this purse Karl Lagerfield designed for Chanel's Pre-fall collection? I would probably fight a rabid grizzly bear to the death if it meant I could have it. Sigh.

p.s. Lily Allen? Fuggedaboutit. Pretty much my favorite style icon.

WTF: Crazy Pants

2009-01-14T09:45:00.000-08:00

This has been the winter of terrible, terrible pants. From the sequined leggings spotted at Stella's two Saturdays ago ( Stella's is not an establishment you wear sequined leggings to. No one is there to pay attention to your clothes, they are there to drink weird polish brandies and spill Old Style all over their Carhartts), to the total-assault-on-every-one-of-my-senses-atrocity-that-is-acid-washed-jeans displayed in the window of American Apparel, the American public has been subject to most misguided pants choices since AC Slater started wearing Zoobas every goddamn second of every goddamned episode of "Saved By The Bell".

Enter Forever 21, champion of cheap, up to the minute and (usually) wearable trends. I hate hate HATE to badmouth Forever 21, as they provide me with an endless supply of sparkly tops and novelty hair clips, but a girl has to draw the line somewhere. If you would be so kind as to direct your eyes to the upper left hand corner, you will witness what can only be described as "disturbingly hideous brown trash bags for your legs". What, WHAT is going on here? Does this mannequin have elephantiasis of the thighs? I cannot, nay, WILL NOT condone this madness. Ridiculous pants: just say no.

RANT: Hayden-Harnett for Target: Vomit.

2009-01-11T15:44:00.000-08:00

I usually love Target. How could you not? So many cute things for so cheap, and it smells like popcorn ALL THE TIME.

Howaaayver..........

The newest collection of designer handbags is the Hayden-Harnett for Target Collection. I had been anticipating this line ever since I read about it on FabSugar, and couldn't wait to get my hands on one of the super cute bags. The color scheme was 70's-cool and the designs of the bags gave them a "There is no way you bought that at Target" appearance.

Imagine my disappointment when I saw them in real life. The outer had a cheap plastic-y shine, and they looked and felt about as sturdy as a card castle. The only redeeming quality was the pretty fabric used for the lining, but at the redonkulous price tag (nearly 50 dollars for the large-ish totes) I couldn't justify the purchase. I would rather put that money towards this adorable Betsey Johnson tote or one of the beautiful J. Crew collection bags.

anyways, that was my little tirade about Target. Conclusion: Better you spend your money on 3-M hooks or a humidifier. OOOH, or maybe a waffle iron! That would be frickin' sweet.

You. Yes, you. Listen To This. Now

2009-01-11T15:39:00.000-08:00

Glasvegas: Hot Scottish accents, totally badass punch you in the stomach wall of sound production, and they all dress like they're extras from "The Outsiders". *heart*

I Am A Terrible Wingwoman: A Play By Sarah Stark

2009-01-11T15:12:00.000-08:00

Nick's Beer Garden, 1:30 A.M. Snow is falling gently on the concrete, a jazz band is playing in front of the french windows. A mass of sweaty hipsters awkwardly dance, the drawstrings from their American Apparel hoodies gyrating wildly.

Mr. Business: Hey Stark! Come and dance seductively, make this chick over here jealous so she'll talk to me

Me: Done and done!

[Mr. B dips me, my braids grazing the disgusting, disgusting floor. Ugh. So gross.]

Mr. B: Ok, I think it worked, I'm gonna go talk to her

Me: Go! Spread your wings and fly!

[Mr. B, suave as always, engages the girl in conversation. Everyone is all giggles and smiles. Mission accomplished.]

-------> Fast forward 2 hours

Me: Mr B., where is your lovely lady?

Mr. B: She was married. SHE WAS FUCKING MARRIED. Worst. Wingwoman. Evar.

fin.

I Use The Phrase "Suck It" A Lot On This Blog

2009-01-09T17:37:00.000-08:00

I dunno, just somethin' I noticed.

Okbye!

Eat, Shop, Drink, Listen: January

2009-01-05T21:42:00.000-08:00

EAT: Healthy Food. My sis just moved into a sweet Bridgeport 2 br, a mere 2 blocks away from what will prove to be the most bacon-grease infused meal I will ever eat.

SHOP: Powder Room. Lets face it, there's something in that extra X chromosome that makes me a sucker for shiny lip gloss in cute packaging. Plus they carry Paul & Joe, my fav!!

DRINK: New Wave Coffee Shop. An interior that looks like The Trax Record shop from Pretty in Pink? Yes plz.

LISTEN: Vivian Girls, "Where Do You Run To". Its basically a band composed of the love children of Brian Wilson and Mary Weiss and really could you ask for anything more?

What To Watch For in 2009

2009-01-05T20:48:00.000-08:00

I won't be the first to tell you this blog isn't all that cool or on the cutting edge or nothin, I'll leave that to Vice Magazine or Street Boners and TV Carnage, but I figured I'd let you all know what I'm jazzed about in 2009:

1. Ripped tights. Seriously I love this look! I feel like I'm channeling my inner Courtney Love whenever I wear them. Remember that chapter in "The Game" where Courtney Love comes to live at the Project Hollywood mansion and like, leaves a swath of peanut butter and jelly tinged destruction wherever she goes? I feel like I can totally trash the kitchen of the house party I am at when I am dressed like her and not feel guilty about it.* Extra points for copious amounts of pearl jewelry/hot pink tutu/smeared lipstick.

2. The term "Boho-slut". This is to Ukranian Village/Wicker Park/Logan Square as "Trixie" is to Lincoln Park. Use it to describe that generic skinny hipster chick you met at EvilOlive Rehab night or the Burlington or [insert poseur bar of your choice here] that graduated from Columbia with a degree in fashion merchandising and does blow, but only on the weekends and that one time at that Justice concert. On a related note, have you seen the prices at Free People lately?? Damn but it is expensive to dress la vie boheme these days.

3. Avocado Frosting. Jesus christ this looks good. Its like, sugary guacamole? I am on that shit like a seagull on a french fry.

ok well that's about it really, but I think what this list lacks in quantity, I make up for in Courtney Love references, so all you hataz can SUCK IT.

* In reality I am the anti-Courtney Love at parties, all followin the drunks with a roll of paper towels and an industrial sized bottle of Resolve Carpet Cleaner.

p.s. Happy New Year, may you live prosperously in a giant mushroom surrounded by pig slaves? Man things were f*cked up at the turn of the century.

I Stole My Blog Name From Obama?

2008-12-19T14:44:00.000-08:00

No way, he stole it from ME. SUCK IT, PRESIDENT ELECT*

*seriously though Barry, I think you're the bees knees. Let's hang out sometime.

What's In A Name?

2008-12-18T22:18:00.000-08:00

I really can't take credit for the title of my blog. I have to give that honor to my sister. The conversation went a little something like this:

Big Sis: So, how's your week been so far?
Lil' Sis: (yet another sad sack story followed by an almost unintelligible stream of curse words and sighs). Can't really figure out what it is that makes me think that if I try hard enough I can make things work out just the way I want them to.
Big Sis: The audacity of hope, Sarah. The audacity of hope.

If there was ever a town to be hopeful in, Chicago would be it. As I write this, inches upon inches of thick, wet snow are falling, covering the 6 inches of snow that fell on Tuesday, covering the two inch thick sheet of ice that covered the city Sunday night. The city's thinning budget can't be stretched to allow every street to be salted. My boots are constantly sopping, cold wet bricks of wool, and as soon as they've dried out next to the radiator I shove em' back on and it's once more into the fray. How's that for futility?

Anyways, this is probably the most serious post I'll ever write, as most everything that happens to me (at least what I want to share with the great open spans of teh internetz) border on the ridiculously entertaining end of the spectrum. This isn't livejournal and there ain't no spots on this page for a sad-face emoticon. If you want to feel bad for people I recommend searching for " chris daughtry covers" on YouTube. Seriously, that shit makes you want to buy a homeless person a puppy or something.

Oh Hai

2008-12-18T21:53:00.000-08:00

New blog.

Get ready for more high-larious true stories, awesome tunez and reviews of places in the city I think y'all should check out (because let's face it, Yelp doesn't let me use the word "Fuck" nearly as much as I would like to).

Will you be able to find a blog on the internet that is keepin it MORE REAL THAN THIS?

Yeah, I didn't think so. Hold on to your hats, kids.