Life is Busting out ALL Over!

5 years, really??

Posted on: March 19, 2008

How has been 5 years since we invaded Iraq?? 5 years really puts in perspective, doesn’t it? What a contrast with my life 5 years ago and now, and the stagnation with the “war”.

I remember being here a couple days after the invasion, and immediately after our agency bowling party and subsequent free drinks for hours into the late night. I watched on the bar TV, after my alma mater beat Western Kentucky in the first round of the NCAA tourney, Lake Shore Drive blocked with people, protesters (and my ex among them although I was to meet him a year later), confronting police, shouting for peace. The TV showed the NCAA games with a small window of the protests.

I went on that night to drink way too many Blue Moons (of course, the official single girl drink of Chicago), openly flirt with my art director (whom we had a definite mutual attraction – which would actually be realized months later at the NEXT agency outing 6 months later) in front of EVERYONE. I believe I was trying to sit on his lap when he wasn’t even sitting. And he is (was?) shorter than me. That is so gross in so many languages. I offered to go buy his cigarettes and came back with Newports instead of Marlboro Lights (if anyone knows about smoking, you know why this is funny. I wish I didn’t) and basically left the bar later than I should in a crumpled mess in a cab.

Ironically, that night was a major improvement from the same agency bowling party and after party the year before. That night I left my wallet at the bar and hooked up with some random guy (non co-worker and no one saw me. I may have been drunk but not stupid) just because I liked that he was a little (okay, a lot) emo.

Good god, that sounds so effed up.

On second thought, maybe there isn’t such a contrast between myself and the war after all.

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1 Response to "5 years, really??"

Hi there. Found you on Thirty Something Bloggers. Didn’t realize you were a Chicago blogger, too. It’s interesting you remember where you were and what was going on when the war started. I don’t. I remember where I was when the Challenger Space Shuttle exploded. And when Princess Diana was killed. But, not the war. What’s that say about me?!

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Synopsis

musings and panic attacks of a Chicago girl embarking on a new life in Texas. Only it's not always June and it's not in song.

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