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Somehow, this goes from bargains to bacon with a little French thrown in for kicks.

2 Mar

I’m not a shopaholic by traditional standards. Anyone who has seen my wardrobe will gladly vouch for that.

But I *am* a bargain hunter, so the whole online coupon thing has turned into something of an addiction for me. I subscribe to Groupon, LivingSocial, Homerun and Greenbacks. I’ve bought at least one deal through each of those sites, and multiple deals from multiple cities for Groupon and Living Social.

If you’re not familiar with them, the premise is this: you spend a certain amount of money to get a specific deal (generally twice the value of what you’ve spent). You’re essentially pre-paying to get yourself a 50% discount. The catch is that you have to use your deal before it expires (generally 6-12 months) or the vendor gets your money and you get nothing.

In addition to trying over a dozen restaurants this way, I’ve also purchased:

  • A store credit at French boutique
  • An intro pottery class
  • A helicopter tour of Chicago
  • An Executive Suite at the Wyndham Chicago
  • Yoga classes
  • Massages
  • Amazon gift cards
  • A credit at a wine shop
  • Cupcakes

I’ve tried so many yoga studios in DC this way, I could probably write an educated article reviewing them for Yoga Journal.

Anyway, the deal that has me WILDLY excited (to the point that it’s why I even started this post) is a six month membership to Arganica. Argani-wha?

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For Valentine’s Day, I gave Alan the gift of Crazy.

17 Feb

Since I had to travel for work on Monday (meaning I would miss Valentine’s Day) Alan and I decided we would celebrate early by making reservations at Brasserie Beck for dinner right after work Friday night.

We were both pretty excited about it, so when my leg ballooned to the size of an elephant’s trunk and I hopped a cab for the hospital, I called him with the news, “We may need to push back our dinner reservation, because I’m on my way to the ER.”

I probably should’ve started that call with, “I’m fine and you shouldn’t be worried…” but I was too fixated on the meal to think rationally. So it was no wonder Alan promptly freaked out and jumped in his car to meet me at the hospital.

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Part One: In which, for a moment, I think someone has taken out a hit on me.

14 Feb

I’ve never needed an emergency room before, but this weekend I was there twice, for two separate things.

First, my work day was cut short on Friday because I looked down and realize my left calf was suddenly Hulk-worthy, measuring in at almost two inches wider in circumference than my right leg. I called my doctor and he directed me to the ER to get an ultrasound for a blood clot. (More on that in a separate entry.)

Then yesterday, thinking I would take advantage of the gorgeous weather, I ventured out for a walk. Forty minutes into the walk, while in a pedestrian crosswalk, I got hit by a car.

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Kind of like dueling banjos… but a bit less melodic.

30 Jan

My friend Krista was in town this weekend, so last night a group of us headed to an Indian restaurant for dinner together. Because I have a bladder the approximate size of a golf ball, as soon as we arrived, I cruised to the bathroom.

There were two (one for the men, one for the ladies) but they were of the single room variety, where you lock the door behind you rather than seal yourself into a stall.

So imagine my surprise when – after locking the door – I found myself facing THIS arrangement:

I’ve seen some crazy bathrooms in my day (one word: Italy) but this was by far the most thought provoking.

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Making friends in the Windy City…

23 Jan

Saturday we grabbed lunch at Elephant & Castle in Chicago. (I know, I’m not a fan of chains either, but it was damn cold out, it was one block from our hotel, and it had a selection of over a dozen good draft beers. So take that.)

Anyway, there was a woman <in her early forties with bleached blonde hair and a loud attention-seeking voice> seated at the bar with three older male companions.

Her voice was so intrusive that Alan kept cringing.

“Honey,” I said to him, but as if I were talking to her, “I’m sure you were cute when you were 20, but you’ve doubled in age. Not so cute at Volume 11.”

Alan added, “And now you look like leather.”

Then he cackled and forecast, “You’re probably going to get me in a fight!”

“No,” I told him. “Those aren’t fighting words. But I’m working on some.”

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