Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Movin' on...

So I decided to move away from blogspot and get my own personalized URL.

The blog title is still “Fantastical Randomocity.”

You’re still gonna get these chronicles.

And I still don’t like to write.

So head on over to http://www.fantasticallyrandom.com and subscribe.

All the old posts are there, so you can relive the various chronicles. Or go back and anonymously comment since certain aspects of my life is so disappointing to you.

LOL Yes, that happened.

I'm still playing around with the designs, so bare with me. I work with numbers for a living, not websites.

Thanks for rocking with me, y'all. See ya over there!

K to the…

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Call me "Michaela"

Since childhood, I haven’t felt entirely comfortable with being in or near bodies of water. In high school, I did the bare minimum to pass swimming class – floating and maybe some breathing underwater. That was about it.

Fast forward some 20 years later.

After seeing a fellow Bradley alum post a pic on Facebook after her swim class at the same gym I go to on the regular, I knew it was time to stop shullbitting. I immediately went on Speedo’s website to order a one-piece swimsuit, a swim cap and some goggles. A couple of days later, I registered for a 6-week adult swim class.

Well, I am happy to write that I officially know how to freestyle swim, and I can float on my stomach and back. I signed up for another 6-week session so I can continue to work on my breathing while swimming, and treading. Our instructor stated she wants to teach us how to breaststroke and backstroke in the next session.

Yay-yer!!! 

I’m so excited about this new skill I have learned. Now, not only can I look good in my bikini, but I can also not worry about drowning! I'm definitely going to find Nemo while snorkeling and/or jump off a cliff into river during my next island vacation.

Just call me Michaela Phelps.

K to the...


Thursday, March 29, 2018

Control Yo Bitch: A Rant About West Loop Dog Owners

Studies have shown I believe one of the prerequisites to live in the West Loop is to own a dog. There is no grass along the street I walk each morning, so it’s normal for me to see dogs relieving themselves in the middle of the sidewalk. I see a minimum of 5 piss trails every morning while walking to work.

Then, there are the dog owners who half-ass pick up their dogs poop; or don’t pick it up at all. It’s worse when there is snow on the ground. The dog owners just say “Eff it” and leave the poop chillin on top of the snow.

Shit has gotten out of control...literally.

I used to love seeing dogs walking with their owners. Then one day, I was strolling to work in the West Loop, when out of a nowhere, some dog almost runs into me. What irritated me about this instance is THE DOG WAS ON A LEASH! I thought the purpose of a leash was to control the dog.

Now when I'm walking to work, I don’t move out the way for the dog. You betta yank that leash to get your dog out of my way, or deal with it being kicked as I'm walking. I’m not apologizing either. Teach your dog some manners.

Control yo' bitch, B!

K to the...

Friday, February 23, 2018

Mardi Gras 2018 Pt Deux: "It's 'burr-GUN-dee'"

Aaaaahh...the reason I'm here has arrived.

Mardi Gras 

The day to just have fun, and indulge. I was going to hit up Zulu, hang out a bit after the parade, get some grub, then hit Bourbon Street until the police clear the streets at midnight. I had my Timbs in the trunk ready because you just don't wear your good shoes on Bourbon Street. I had no intentions of bringing those boots back to Chicago.

Well, the day went 75% as planned. And those boots came back with me. LOL

The Zulu parade starts at 8a. I knew I had some time before the parade got to where I'd be posted. However, I wanted to make sure I had a decent parking spot, as well. So I left out around 830a and hit up Winn Dixie for my drank of the day. I decide to get it crackin' with Kraken and Coke. I found a parking spot about half a mile from where my new aunties told me to meet them. I po' up enough to last for a few hours of sipping, and walk to the spot. Sure enough, my aunties were where they said they would be. I met some of their fam and close friends and was introduced as the "niece from Chicago."

As we're waiting on the parade, we're talking about the goings-on of the previous night. I go "I parked on Burgundy and walked over to Canal Street for the parades." They laughed. Down there, that word is pronounced with the accent on the second syllable. I mentioned where I parked that day, and said "OR-lins." They let me know it's "or-LEENS". For the rest of our time together, I'd randomly go up to them and say "It's 'or-LEENS' and 'bur-GUN-dee." Once the rum hit me and I kept saying "we outcheah" they were like "You got it!" Good times, man.
Auntie Wanda and I

Crawfish fries for breakfast because Fat Tuedsday

Missy Elliott made an appearance

The Jesus Freaks, as I like to call them, being haters.

Waiting

Lil mama was waiting too!
The parade finally shows up around 1230p. Of course, it's live! Laughs, pics with strangers, getting toys from the floats for kids behind me...it was just like being around hella family. And the weather was perfect! A big difference from the day before.
With all the aunties, and Wanda's twin sons.

Zulu Tramps
Zulu Tramps

Zulu Tramps

Self-explanatory

Spike!

Family

Some of the come-up

Play on playa!

After the parade ends, I head to hang out under the bridge (I-10 overpass). I finally got to see the Mardi Gras Indians in action, and man were they pretty!


I watched Skip, Big Freedia's former dancer, perform his Wikki Line slide. I couldn't get it. Also, I'm Krak'ed up! LOL He posted a pic of him performing, on IG, with a caption that read "Me performing at MARDI GRAS under Bridge. GOD is Good! IT was Movie." I hope he wasn't talking about HIS performance was a movie. I was right there, man. It was more like a Vine clip. But, ya know...whatever.


After this, things get fuzzy. I had to look at significant locations in my phone to track when I got to certain places. I didn't make it to Bourbon Street. This is why I brought those Timbs back to Chicago. LOL I got back to the B&B around 1030p, maxed some Wendy's and crashed. X_X 

I wasn't leaving until Thursday, so I still had two extra days to enjoy the city. I browsed and ate lunch at the French Market, ate beignets at Cafe Beignet, and went to see the Pelicans play the Lakers later that night. A real chill day.


Before heading to the airport on Thursday,  I went back to the French Quarter. Had lunch on Bourbon St while listening to some live music, drank half of a Hand Grenade (Remember, I said I washed in Part 1? X_X) then walked through Louis Armstrong Park. Within the park is Congo Square, where the slaves gathered on Sundays to sing and dance. I sat on the bench in silence, just thinking about what it was like for them to have that one day to express themselves freely. I left the park, drove around, giving myself a tour of the city to help pass the time before heading to the airport.














While at the airport, Auntie Wanda called to see if I made it home, safely. We had some good laughs about Tuesday's shenanigans. Regardless of me going to Dallas or she coming to Chicago this year, we will be seeing each other next year in New Orleans. 

March 5, 2019.

Room already booked.

Ya heard meh?

K to the...

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Mardi Gras 2018: "It's 'or-LEENS'"

On Mardi Gras 2017, which was just a regular auss Tuesday in Chicago, I told myself I would be in New Orleans for Mardi Gras in 2018. I saw the dates and thought if I have a beau, he can come, too. If not, then we won't be seeing each other on Valentine's Day.

Then September came, and there was a beau in the picture. I mentioned it to him, he was down. So a road trip was planned, including an overnight stop in a city for some fun before getting to New Orleans. Oh, it was going to be our first trip together, our first Valentine's Day together, and it was going to be fun. Then November came, and there was no beau in the picture. However, in 2017...
Image result for i said what i said gif

I was going to list the top moments of this trip, like I did for my birthday trip. But going through all the pics and videos. I couldnt. So, this post is Part 1 of my posts about Mardi Gras Trip 2018.

I arrived in New Orleans for Mardi Gras for the first time since 2011 on Sunday afternoon. First thing I ate? A shrimp po' boy, baybeh! The guy shucking the oysters paid for my meal because he thought I was cute. This was a sign that this trip would be one to remember...for the most part*. That night, I went to check out Tank &The Bangas and Big Freedia. I had seen Big Freedia perform in Chicago, so I knew what to expect.

"A whole lotta whole lotta whole lotta ass!"

Tank & The Bangas, though!?! They puts on a show, nahmean!? I feel like artists go hard when performing in their hometown. So seeing the artists perform in their home city during Mardi Gras season was a delight. So, Night 1? LIVE!

Tank & The Bangas
Big Freedia


Monday, I picked up my rental and was able to roam free. I got my eyebrows snatched, and hit up Zulu's Lundi Gras festival at the riverfront. Shoutout to my homie, Thomika, for the suggestion. As I’m walking through the park, I saw a man in front of me rocking a Hales Franciscan varsity jacket.

Chicago spidey senses: [On] Off.

He was a fellow Chicagoan, rocking his son's jacket.

I made my way to the main stage to watch a group perform Motown jams, while sippin a Hurricane**, and vibing. There were a group of people next to me who took a big auss group pic. I JUST so happen to be in the perfect spot for a subtle photo bomb. One of the ladies reviewed the pic, started cracking up, and came to me to show the pic. This is when I met my new aunties.

Wanda and her crew are originally from New Orleans, but reside in Dallas. I rocked with them for the rest of my time at the festival. I asked them where they will be watching the Zulu parade - the only parade that matters to me on Tuesday. They let me know the exact location, told them I'd be there. Before we departed, like true aunties, they told me to be careful and made me carry my little purse under my jacket so nobody could snatch it.

My buzz is gone and I gotta pee. As I'm looking for a bar whose bathroom and rum (Ha!) I can use, I ran into the naked cowboy, and his wife, who insisted on taking pic together.
Naked Cowboy and I
"Decatur where it's greater"
Ow oooowwwww!

While sipping my drink, I start chatting with two girls who reside in NYC. They said they were about to hit up Deanie's. I told them the food was great and they randomly invited me to dinner with them. While standing in line waiting to get in Deanie's, there is a guy from Chicago standing behind us who was meeting with his cousin, also from Chicago. So now, he's joining us for dinner. LOL We ate, and parted ways, knowing I'd never see them again.
Grubbin' at Deanie's
With Stephanie and Nicky
Now it's time for the parades - Proteus and Orpheus. And, bih, it's cold and windy! I met Michael Jordan's long-lost twin brother, had a shot with some folk from Cali (that shot glass on my beads always comes in handy), and caught hella throws (some I gave to others). It was a fun night.

Proteus Parade

Proteus parade

Proteus parade

Fire trucks signals the end of the parade

Too cool on Canal St

Police truck to signal beginning of a parade

My favorite float at Orpheus. Night-time parades are so pretty

You see the trusty shot glass
Sunday night and Monday were lit. Tuesday? Sheeeeiiiid! You see the first asterisk explanation below. X_X 

Rest of the trip discussed in Part 2.

K to the...

*There is a 4 hour window during which I'm not sure what went down. I just know where I safely arrived. LOL
**My very first time in New Orleans, I couldn't stand this drink. I thought it was weak...pass me the Hand Grenade! However, I appreciate the drink more, now that I'm older, and can barely finish a Hand Grenade. I'm washed.

Monday, January 29, 2018

Bifcake Chronicles: T-I-Red

I’m tired of men.

I’m tired of men wasting my unlimited text messages.

I’m tired of men who are really f*ckboys, and the people who enable their f*ckboy behavior.

I’m tired of men not respecting the f*cking boundaries I set. Do I seriously have to go Ella Jackson on men, and risk being called a bitch, for them to understand that I mean what I said?!

While getting my day pordee on this weekend, I received a text from someone I hadn't heard from since August. Back then, I clearly told him I wasn't interested in being his girl. Anybody who is a fan of "Dr." Umar Johnson is not someone I want to be with. I clearly stated we can still be cool or cordial when we see each other; no hard feelings.

Back to Saturday, after realizing who it is (number was no longer in my phone), I responded with pleasantries and there was some back and forth. At some point, the correspondence takes a turn for the worst:




So now, his number is blocked.

I. Am. Tired!

K to the...