1. YOU GUYS I’M FAMOUS.
Backstory: earlier this week, much to my chagrin, Oxford Dictionaries chose “selfie” as the Word of the Year for 2013. As a vocal hater of both selfie as a word and as a form of photography AND as the proud owner of an English degree (read: professional word snob), a piece of my soul died upon hearing this news.
On Tuesday, a writer for the RedEye who I happen to follow on Twitter put out the call of a Chicago Word of the Year. Never one to turn down a word challenge (see: English degree), I responded with:
Ventra + apocalypse = Ventrapocalypse. Ventra, for those of you fortunate enough to not be living in Chicago at the moment, is the new payment system for the CTA that has been plagued by a host of problems since its initial rollout earlier this fall. It’s been a disaster, so Ventrapocalypse seemed like an appropriate word for Chicago for this year.
WELL. Yesterday I checked Twitter to see this link bait:
And when I clicked through, LO AND BEHOLD, Ventrapocalypse was chosen as one of the top submissions. Being the calm, collected person I am, I exploded with glee. This is a huge moment in my life, people. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW PROUD I AM OF THIS.
Now, I demand that you all navigate to the RedEye’s website by clicking here and vote for Ventrapocalypse as the Chicago Word of 2013. Vote early and vote often, as they say here in great city of Chicago. And then YOU will be a part of making all my dreams come true! The article is also in today’s RedEye, if you happen to be local and want to pick up a copy
to show off to all your friends and for me to autograph to keep you occupied on your commute.
2. Last night I had dinner at Homeslice with a few other Chicago bloggers. I’d never been there before, but I’ve been intrigued by it for the past few months, as it’s nearly impossible to miss if you ever find yourself on the Red or Brown Lines. I ordered the Lew-Wow, which was essentially Hawaiian pizza.
Mmm. I feel like Hawaiian pizza can be kind of divisive, but personally I adore the stuff. Growing up, we had pizza every Saturday night, and when I was really little Hawaiian was the go-to for us kids. Given the option, I’ll pretty much always go with Hawaiian, because is there anything better than pineapple on pizza? I think not.
3. On Sunday, a friend and I went to see About Time (which I thought was a lovely movie, as long as you don’t at all mind the whole “willing suspension of disbelief” thing). For some reason, this movie is rated R, though for the life of me I can’t figure out why. I wouldn’t have even known the movie was rated R, except that when my friend and I bought our tickets, we both got carded.
Wait, what? Is this standard procedure, or do I actually look under 17? Because it’s been quite some time since I couldn’t attend an R rated movie, and I wouldn’t think allowing an underage person into an R movie carries the same sort of legal ramifications for a business as, say, selling alcohol to someone under 21. I’m used to showing my ID to get into a bar or whatever, so I didn’t think twice about taking out my license when asked until after the fact, when I was all, “Hold on. There’s no alcohol involved in this. Why did that just happen?!” Like I legitimately forgot that getting carded at movies is even a thing, since I’m, ya know, 23.
It was weird.
Have you voted for Ventrapocalypse yet??
What’s your favorite kind of pizza?
Been carded at the movies any time recently? No? That’s just me?