The Cold Hard Embellished Truth: Alabama Girl Lost in Chicago

Chicago Log Book - Day 1: Remember the Alamo
Had a problem with car rental at airport, had to sic corporate Alamo on a guy who we'll call "Bill-the dumb-ass" who was forced at policy-point over the phone to give "the crazy bitch" (me) a car before she throws a conniption fit in the baggage claim!! It all worked out good.

Chicago Log Book - Day 2- Ms. Garmond and the New Yankee Workshop
I thought my hotel was in a deserted part of town, because it was not too busy around here when I arrived on Sun., however at 6am, it became Mardi-Gras-Parade's-over-let's-beat-the-trafficTraffic x 10.

Early in the day I had a little spat with my sherpa, Ms. Garmond, she said "Turn right" and I didn't want to and after awhile of me doing my own thing, she got mad and crossed her arms and said she was tired of wasting her breath.

But after class today I decided to drive into downtown Chicago and came back out tight-chested-white-knuckled pleading for Ms. Garmond to tell me which exit/entrance, /left/right/whatever you want me to do Ms. Garmond, just get me out of here alive <sobbing hysterically> till the evil Ms. Garmon smugly said "Keep left, exit left in point two miles." We now have an understanding.

In class today, I met roughly 20-25 ladies from the Chicago and Joliet area and I have but two words to say:"Woof" and "Woof". Now I understand why they have to get all pissy about our southern "beauty" pageants and want them to be "scholarship" competitions. Because a beauty pageant requires that one not be an aesthetic equivalent of syrup of ipecac.

Chicago Log Book - Day 3: Miss Scah-let meets the Zombies
Another day in class. I learned about all the equipment on the fire trucks here, I learned about ventilating "Ruffs" in firefighting. I think I am going to have to buy some cheap jeans and a hoodie sweat shirt and some sneeeekers to fit in. I also need to dye my roots black and stop exfoliating my face. I remember Mama always telling me, "put some lipstick on, you don't want to look like a corpse." This week I am learning the true meaning behind that. Remember the Zombie's in Sean of the Dead? They have that kind of fashion sense going on up here. Everyone, everywhere from every walk of life is wearing an ugly hoodie with bad dye jobs and no make-up and ruddy skin. (Yes, I know it's cold up here, but still it's just not Natch-A-Rule.)

Ms. Garmond and I got along a lot better today. She told me she knew where Kohl's and other stores were hidden in this city. So I happily obeyed her every command. She took me to Border's Bookstore where I purchased a few things. The clerk was waiting on a customer ahead of me and asked if they had a discount club card. They said "Oh, you don't have it with you? Why we can cheerfully look it up with your phone number or email address!" So i thought hmmmmmmmm....my darling sister, Margaret buys every book ever written and she travels a bit too. So surely she has one and Voile! I just happen to know her phone number and email address. So when they asked me I said "Well, I did but gosh, I don't happen to have my card. I'm not even sure if it's still valid anymore." Mr. Cheerful Clerk Man said "Don't worry, be happy, they never expire, what's your phone number?" So with visions of flames of hell encircling me I rattled off Margaret's phone number and he said "Eileen McKenzie?" I mumbled uh-huh. And he gave me the discount. hahahahaha. Margaret, I am assuming Eileen McKenzie is one of your pen names. But any hoot, thanks for the discount.

Other than lying to sales clerks, I am now eating Chicago Pizza and thinking "Wow, this tastes just like Mobile, Alabama pizza!" HOODATHUNKIT!

I have noticed a strange phenomenon up here. Although the traffic is heavy and fast, it doesn't seem too dangerous out in this area, people aren't cutting each other off and stuff. They seem rather polite (albeit fast) driving except for one tiny thing that will set them into a bloodthirsty rage and ready to shoot you in the back of your head: Not going on a green light within a nano-second of it turning green.

I mean they want you to go when the color-spectrum turns from pale pinkish to pale lime-greenish. I am afraid to blink while sitting at a light for fear that my lids may not come back up as quickly as the driver behind me would like.

I'll tell you what, I am learning quick that I am truly a southern woman and ready to come back home. When I get home, I'm going to sit at a green light and put on 2 full coats of lipstick. At least down there, the women (who were brought up right) understand this completely and when the gentlemen see us give the "all done" Mu-whah! into the rear view mirror, well, they don't seem to mind the wait after all.

Chicago Log Book - Day 4: This Planet Is Uninhabitable For Some Life Forms (Namely Mine)
Went to bed with scratchy throat and stuffy nose, but I thought it was from screaming "Come on 12-32-39-53-54-19!!!" at the top my lungs like my lottery ticket was a racehorse at Church Hill Downs. I thought the stuffy nose was due to the wailing and gnashing of teeth after I lost the lottery along with half of my Facebook friends (which included 2 sisters). (Ya'll greedy Bahstahds!) But I awoke today to find both of those symptoms even worse.

I went to class and the symptoms proceeded to worsen throughout the morning. A lady sitting behind me in class who is also an alien on this planet, (from South Carolina) seems to have developed the same illness. The Sweatshirt Hoodie Girls (aka the Sand People) seem to be immune to it. Perhaps their hoodie shirts hold some anti-viral lifesaving properties. Perhaps they're the opposite of small pox blankets (look it up), perhaps this is some weird biological warfare, where they wear a sweatshirt made up of NyQuil and laugh while the Paula Deen wannabe catches her death. (I could swear I saw one of them licking their sleeveyesterday).

Anyway at lunch I went to Walgreen's and had the Psuedofed Police interrogate me for 15 minutes like Lenny Briscoe on Law & Order about why I wanted the Meth-making drugs and peering over the cash register like I was standing there smoking a crack pipe while picking up a child porn photo mug from the photo department.

Sherlock finally gave me the drugs and yes it cleared my stuffy nose up right away. Of course, then I had a RUNNY nose for the rest of class and had to do some role-playing exercises with ~get this~ a pregnant wheel chair bound crippled chick whom I kept sneezing on. I may have killed her as she wasn't wearing the anit-viral hoodie. I'll know if she's not there for the test tomorrow. I'm too sick to write anymore, must seek out more meds (I wonder if I have enough to make meth? I am in a hotel room after all. ) Too... weak.... to... type..... any...more.....

Chicago Log Book - Day 5: My WTF Moments in Customer Service.I must admit everywhere that I have eaten so far on this trip I have received excellent customer service. So good it is getting annoying.

One day I ate at KFC for a quick lunch. The Senorita taking my order was intent on making me eat my vegetables. I just wanted 2 pieces of chicken. No, no sides thank you. No, seriously, can't I get just the chicken and biscuit, like a snack? But I don't want the side, what's that 2 sides, no I don't want 2 sides, I don't even want one side, just the chicken and drink, OK? That's OK, I don't mind if it cost more for just the chicken. Thank you for trying to get me a fried chicken grant to help me pay for it. Really, money is no object, I just want <whimpering now> a piece of friggin' chicken.
I understand and I appreciate your kindness and thoughtfulness and looking out for me in these tough economic times but if you don't give me a chicken leg in 5 seconds I'm going to have to eat somewhere else.

Senorita finally took my card and gave me the chicken and looked so sad to see me eating a side-less overpriced chicken meal. I think I heard her sniffle a bit and make the sign of the cross, as she walked off.

I also went to a pizza joint named something weird like Ricobene's. The guy (Rick O'Bean, I presume)looked like Al Pacino if he had never gotten a second acting job. (Washed up pizza maker man). I told him what I wanted, he walked off. Just disappeared. He was right in front of me, poof!, not there anymore. Never saw him again for about 10 minutes. Never saw anyone else (should've took the cash register). Then he came back with a pizza and said in a kinda eerie flat quite voice "hope you like, NEXT!!!!!!! at the top of his lungs. I was nice enough to remind him that I still needed to pay. He looked insulted, like I was calling him old and senile. He took the money anyway.

Too tired to write anymore tonight. Have to get up early and find my way back to the airport,car rental drop off place, etc. That should bring plenty of entertainment. Going lie down and watch a video on Toxic Agents such as the plague (which I'm pretty sure I have) and small pox (which I don't have yet, but have put a down payment on) and other biological warfare goodies. Night night all.