You fail, sir

Recently, Olive and I have seen more than our share of embarrassing situations involving overzealous boys.

Public Service Announcement:  STOP TRYING SO HARD.

Here is a brief summary of the most recent Chazzers:

Chaz The original Chaz. Tries too hard, yet accuses us of being shallow. Makes behind-the-back slams against his friends in whom we’ve expressed interest. We just might be shallow, but it’s most definitely not your place to tell us that, sir! Plus…we never were enthralled by your conversations about (a) fonts, (b) street lamps, or (c) how nobody wants to golf with you. Perhaps (a) and (b) are responsible for your whining about (c).

Titmouse In addition to his bird-like methods of sneaking a not-subtle peek, he followed up with this instant message exchange with Ivana.

Titmouse: well then how about you get us to hang out, as we planned
Ivana: wait wait wait
Titmouse: and if one night is all its gonna be
Titmouse: i guess i’ll just be okay with that
Ivana: we did not PLAN for me to make y’all hang out
Titmouse: true
Ivana: this is not jr high, I will not set up my friends

Needless to say, Mr. Titmouse has made one too many assumptions about his chances with Olive.

Emo Ex He used to be awesome. Very awesome. Then he broke Ivana’s heart for some frumpy British chick. When things didn’t work out with that diversion, he came back to Ivana…and proceeded to be excessively lame. We tried to entertain him and introduce him to our friends, but he was virtually silent the whole night. All he wanted to do was wax nostalgic over how we used to be. Sorry Emo Boy, no amount of your misty-eyed proclamations of love and heartache will win back this Trixie.

Meathead McBeerdick Jocks are good. Cute jocks are very good. Played football? Rugby? Lacrosse? We like you. But if you drink so much that you’re non-functional, we’re not very impressed. Once is forgiveable. Twice? That sounds like a personal problem. So despite your popularity in the Wrigleyville bars, you fail in other (important) areas.

Oh Chads, we miss your pleasant company. Save us from the doucebags, please!

Shake it off

Olive’s got herself a Chaz. She’s a pretty girl, but we don’t know quite how she managed to get this one to latch on. She was nothing short of bitchy to him, and now he’s smitten. Standard, I suppose.

This particular Chaz is one we’re dubbing the Titmouse. Mostly because he stared at Olive’s rack in the least subtle way possible – he made a pigeon-like motion with his head and just turned so his face was directly at boob-level. Of course Olive called him out on it, but (in typical Chaz fashion) he blatantly denied any wrongdoing.

Titmouse was a Chaz of the shamelessly pervy variety that sees absolutely nothing wrong with making explicit sexual jokes to a girl less than two hours after meeting her. Needless to say, Olive was quite unimpressed, but that was just the start.

We defective trixies have perfected the art of telling a Chaz when he is out of line. It’s not ok to grab a married girl’s boob. What’s even less ok is to fondle a married chick, not understand why she’s mad, and say unapologetically that you’d do it again. And worse? To tell this story to the hot single chick you’re trying to pick up (and already have one strike against for the non-subtle staring). Titmouse got thoroughly lectured during the entire trip home, and the one smart move he made was getting off at his stop instead of trying to continue on to ours. Self-invites are a huge no-no in our book.

Olive and I almost shot Diet Coke out of our noses laughing the next day, when we became acquainted with his 7th-grade style of pickup. Sending Ivana an instant message of “omg, ur roommate is so hot i want to bone her” is NOT the way to get into Olive’s pants. Bad Chaz!

Rachael Ray can go suck a (broiled) egg

I figured out how to use the broiler today. I love to cook, but I’d always been hesitant about using the broiler because Rachael Ray does it so damn much, and I can’t stand her. EVOO? Gag me. I will, however, concede that the broiler is a most useful piece of equipment.

The 4th of July requires incredible food. We decided to avoid the cliched BBQ and make delicious gourmet goodies. Bacon. Wrapped. Scallops. Tell me those aren’t tasty. Just try.

Anyhow, I managed to make the treats without using a single drop of EVOO, and without saying a stupid catch phrase. Olive and I deserve a Food Network special. Our party food is top-notch.


Chads are swell, bar none. They look good, they smell good, they make bank and they share the wealth. Usually.

However, there are some decidedly UN-Chad-like types out there, and sweet merciful crap are they ever lame.
Jean shorts? No thank you.
Trying too hard? Go elsewhere, please.
Brown belt, black pants/shoes? Seek help.

And sometimes, they’re less obvious than that. They might look the part, and then they hit you with a little verbal gem like this on AIM/Facebook/Myspace:

“hey ..olive ur not getting me..i really like u..please try to put a photo that shows all ur body ..ur so cute..any ways ..mwah take care.”


Or a a sweet little vignette about STREET LIGHTS of all things. We met a terribly well-connected boy at a party hosted by one of the Big Four firms downtown, and while he was all kinds of nice while we were ALL inebriated, he was EXTRA lame while sober. Had he been normal, we would have possibly tolerated his blathering for the sake of his well-connected-ness, but no. His idea of charming our drunk asses was to tell us about how all the street lights in the city of Chicago have amber bulbs.

Do you want a sticker, Chaz?

TV > Handbag?

Olive and I had better be hosting parties at our place, because I just bought a very un-girly tv. I hope Chads enjoy the crystal-clear image our pretty new Aquos gets.

This tv is worth one Princy medium hobo from the Gucci spring/summer collection:

Decidedly, buying a tv over a handbag is a very un-Trixie-like thing to do. However, I must justify this particular Defective Trixie Moment by mentioning that the silver Princy will be out of style long before HD technology becomes obsolete. And we can use the tv for workout dvd’s to keep ourselves looking flawless for our Chads.


Business Chad

I love the CTA. I love that it takes me where I need to be (work. home. shopping. bars. etc.) in as timely a fashion as one can expect from public transportation that receives little to no funding these days. But in the instances where an El or a bus is stopped for a rather large chunk of time (slow zone, 3-track delays, passenger has a medical emergency and needs to be carted off on a stretcher – I swear this last one happened to me last Friday night on the Brown) – there is usually a decent amount of attractive scenery.

By “scenery” – I am of course referring to the not-very-elusive-at-all Lincoln Park Chad.

The morning and afternoon commute times are best to catch these boys in their black, pinstriped, or dark grey pants (khaki if they’re feeling casual) with the nicely pressed crease down each leg. May i just say? – dress pants look fantastic on a guy that’s in shape, and I have yet to see a fat Chad – so keep up the good work, boys! They pair these lovely pants with a whole host of button-down shirts. Colored, striped, french cuffs, the whole nine. A boy who dresses nicely and gives half a crap about how he looks wins mega points with me – and probably with Miss Ivana as well.

Anyhow, I have two possible El routes to take when I decide that going to work (in the north loop) is a good idea:

  1. Brown line directly south to Merchandise Mart
  2. Brown line south to Fullerton or Belmont, then Red line south to Grand and State.

If keeping an eye out for good looking Lincoln Park boys were an Olympic sport – I was medaling like a motherfucker in-between Belmont and Fullerton. Monday was apparently “Dark Gray Pants and Light Grey or Blue Button-Down” Day, and everyone was turned out accordingly.

It was glorious; they all looked phenomenal. I’m pretty certain that “Business Chad” is my favorite look ever.

~ Olive

Welcome to the jungle

G’day, mates!

It’s a jungle out there, and said jungle is rife with Chads. They may seem to be simple creatures, but even the smartest Trixies can be thrown for a loop by a wily Chad. That’s not fair.
Meet your tour guides, Ivana Mansteak and Olive Cuteshoes. In the interest of SCIENCE, these ladies will brave the jungle and study the Chad in his natural habitat. They’ll observe the Chad at his favorite watering holes, attempt to understand his social behaviours, and yes, even try to mate with a Chad or two. For research, of course.

Welcome to the Chad Safari. Be on your guard, ladies. They might be dangerous!