why i love chicago part 2

I wound up drinking over half the bottle while I watched Chicago election coverage. The buzz was a nice complement to the ridiculousness of Chicago politics.

In a landslide, King Richard was elected for his 6th term (close to beating his late father's record), while an alderman currently under federal investigation for bribery demanded a federal investigation on her election results (yeah, she lost). I love this city.

Thanks for all your messages of congratulations!

And Max, I did not call The Friend last night.

why i love chicago, part 1

This is one of my favorite Chicago bloggy sites. And I love the random question that they ask every few days.

Yesterday's question: What convinces people that spring is finally here? What do you do to celebrate?

Not only is the question perfect, but the responses are even better. Check it out, even if you don't live in this wonderful town.

it's like a tundra sometimes

Cold day after cold day, I find myself staring at the women wearing heels or not wearing scarves or hats. These are the women for which winter is merely a season of coats and cute boots, not of unbearably frostbiting temperatures and crunching snow underfoot. With recent highs in the single digits, there have been noticeably less of this sort of woman on the streets of Chicago. But I still see them teetering around ice in four-inch heels (not heeled boots, just heels). I don't ask myself if I will ever be one of these women, caring more about my appearance than staying warm. I do wonder, however, if I can ever pull off looking halfway cute while being bundled in multiple layers.

Catching my reflection in the El's scratched window, I look more homeless than hot. Black Uggs that are splotched white from winter 05-06, which I haven't cleaned because I don't like my Uggs in the first place. Long, brown belted coat which looks beautiful with a tidy scarf and flats, but bulky when paired with hat, heavy scarf, boots, and thick underlayers of wool and cotton. In the mornings, on my way to the gym, I care very little about my appearance. It's cold and dark (although that's starting to change), and all I want to do is get to the El station which, after a few inches of snow fell this week, seems like it's across the Great Plains. My dirty boots crunch across the haphazardly shoveled sidewalks. It actually surprised me Wednesday morning that anyone had shoveled. You see the last time we had a lot of snow in December, the sidewalks became a disaster: covered in ice which was covered with snow. I found myself walking in the street when possible. It's not out of laziness that our neighbors don't shovel, it's that they might fear being sued. (Some Good Samaritan law which states that shoveled sidewalks and individuals falling on said sidewalks equal potential lawsuit. Do nothing, someone falls, and you aren't at risk. Nice.)

Seriously, it has been so cold that appearance has been of little interest to me. Usually I take time to choose an outfit for work the next day. When it's cold, I pair some pants with a sweater and I'm done. I bury my face in my scarf, look at the ground and walk briskly to work, home, the gym - no need to glance around at everyone else. But there are people who do it, people for whom the cold means nothing. They go out like it's springtime, running around the city or going out every night (that is an entirely different blog post altogether - going out when it's freezing). You know, maybe I'm too practical. Or maybe I need to move.

this IS a Super Bowl post

The city is covered in blue & orange these days, with every newspaper in wall-to-wall Bears coverage and every store hocking championship merchandise. Even Macy's has Bears flags flying on State Street. Each night (since the playoff started) Loop office buildings turn on their orange and blue lights to say Go Bears. The lions standing guard outside the Art Institute are wearing football helmets. For the most part, the city is wrapped up in the Super Bowl (with the exception of the few transports from other cities who root for some other team - the worst being those from Indiana).

It's even more exciting than October 2005 when the White Sox clinched their World Series victory. While most of the city was excited, there were a few party poopers who root for that other Chicago baseball team which is apparently "cursed". Right.

Most people at work are dressed in Bears gear (we have a Super Bowl party starting at 3:30 today). Of course I am sporting my Urlacher jersey proudly, especially aruond my coworker who is too proudly wearing her Reggie Wayne one. Boo.

But this whole Super Bowl thing has been a bit bittersweet for me. I spent the majority of the 2006 football season watching games with A (in bed, on the couch, in a bar, or on the phone at own places). As the Bears kept winning and Super Bowl talk increased, I got excited thinking about how we could spend the big game together, rooting on the Bears. So it's a little disappointing that they did make it this far and I can't share in it with him. But I do appreciate all he taught me about football; it's become very useful these past few weeks, especially when flirting.

I will bear down and watch the game Sunday, celebrating our first trip back to the Super Bowl since I was 4 (and rocking a 72 Perry jersey). Hopefully there will be more to celebrate once the game is over, but even not, it's been a great trip.

a form of escapism, i guess

Next time I am in a bad mood, I know what I need to do........LEAVE.

It's remarkable how three days out of the city can drastically improve my mood. I went from being flustered and frustrated to being content with the way things are. I owe this to finally getting out of Chicago for a change because I pretty much forgot all about my concerns here while I was gone. I didn't bring my laptop (brilliant decision) so schoolwork couldn't bother me. I had no time to get frustrated with A since we were hundreds of miles apart (and he left me cute messages totally out of the blue). Basically, any stress that I associate with my life in Chicago just disappeared.

Secondly, I missed my MN friends. Especially Ames. I knew I missed her, but I had no idea how much until she picked me up at the airport. We talked and talked and talked all weekend (this is something we do quite well when we aren't watching Law & Order or Nip/Tuck). We didn't really do much of anything in Minneapolis except eat and hang out together, but that was really all I wanted to do. Just three months ago, she was just a $7 cab ride away. And now, she is much too far. Being with Amy reminded me of what I love about my friends and why I am so lucky to have them. I tend to take people for granted when they are so accessible, but once they move away, I value their friendship even more.

So I came back last night somewhat sad to be home (looming homework deadlines, a short and furious work week, and no Amy in Chicago anymore). But, more importantly, I felt like something had been lifted in my mood. No longer was I feeling quite as irritable and nasty as I was just a week ago. Now I know....when the going gets tough, I need to get the hell out of here.

the s-word

I couldn't have said it better myself:

"We don't like the sound of this. Weather.com is reporting SNOW for Thursday and Friday, and we're pretty sure it isn't going to be any pretty soft and fluffy snowman-making snow either. Get ready for the slushy October snow. You know how it likes to play. It doesn't start falling from the sky until you have that five-block hike from the train to your apartment. Or it's sunny outside all morning, and as soon as you step out for lunch, bam! Snow comes out of nowhere. Or what about when you were in fourth grade and had a sleeveless Cleopatra costume all planned out for Halloween? But then fuckin' snow had to come in and make you wear a coat and hat on top of your gold satin dress.

December snow, you're cool. But October snow, screw you." (Chicagoist)

autumn

there is something about fall.

something a little clearer in the air.

it's a more serious season than summer, but not nearly as mean as winter. it starts out quietly, with days like today: sunny, breezy, mid-60s temperatures. there is football to watch and the last rounds of cookouts to attend. there are layers.

and then the leaves start to fall, slowly and unnoticeable at first because they haven't dried out enough to become crunchy. once the crunchiness starts the leaves, it seems, are everywhere. covering the sidewalks, clinging to shoes and jackets and hair. but most importantly, it's the glow that those leaves give off on a sunny afternoon. the way everything looks golden in late September/early October if you catch the day at the right time.

and it becomes cooler. layers include heavier jackets and summery items get stuffed into drawers or boxes or the back of closets. out come the sweaters, sleeves pulled down around the hands to keep them warm. out comes the cider, the pumpkins, and the costumes (for my favorite holiday).

then, just as november makes its way in, some crazies start talking about winter and snow and white christmases and don't remember to enjoy those last beautiful days of fall.

maybe it's my love of public trans

I was told last night that I am a real Chicago girl. Still trying to figure out what that means, but I'll take it as a compliment.

the meat-loving midwest

It's been four years since I stopped eating red meat and pork, two and a half years since giving up poultry. Whenever I tell people that I don't eat meat, they ask if I find it difficult being a vegetarian (pescaterian actually since I still eat fish occasionally), but after not eating it for so long I really don't even notice. I avoid restaurants where I won't find anything veggie-friendly and I know that I have to be flexible when I'm dining with a group. I make do at work lunches where deli sandwich platters fill the conference room table. It's really not a big deal. However, I take for granted living in Chicago. It's easy to find veggie foods at most restaurants, and my neighborhood even has a few vegetarian restaurants. But when I leave the city, I realize that most of the country is pro-meat. They seem baffled by those of us who claim not to eat meat because we don't want to. The restaurants lining the highways are famous for their cheap, meaty offerings. Road trips can be especially difficult for the vegetarian when every exit showcases McDonald's, Wendy's, and Steak & Shake. Once in awhile I'll get lucky and find a Subway or even a Taco Bell.

Earlier this week I had to travel on business to Michigan. The first night my team had dinner at one of the restaurants in our hotel, a very burgers & steak sort of place. When we walked in my boss asked if I'd be cool with the choice and, after perusing the menu and finding a few things I could eat, we sat down. Upon ordering the portabello burger, I was told that it was just a mushroom and no meat. Was that okay? Yes, I told the waitress, that was exactly what I wanted. She actually confirmed that twice with me before leaving our table because other patrons have been disappointed when they order that item and find no actual burger on the bun.

The rest of the trip was more of the same. I missed out on lunch at our clients' office since it was all meaty sandwiches. I took myself to Subway a few hours later. We also had a happy hour with our clients where I indulged on the veggie tray and the fried mushrooms. I think I accidentally ate a bite of chicken only because the entire tray was full of brown, fried foods which were unidentifiable except by shape. Lunch on the road was more of the same, although we lucked out by stopping at an exit with a Quiznos.

I was happy to get back to Chicago after my two days in Kalamazoo. Veggie enchiladas, deluxe salads, veggie sandwiches....these are just a few of the non-meat meals I've had since I returned. I can stay away from just getting by ordering a side salad or a large fry at Wendy's because I have so many options. I don't think I'd survive in a town of family restaurant chains and fast food strip malls.

I'm blogging from the back porch in order to enjoy the longest day of the year. It was such a treat to get out of work on time today (read: not working until after 9pm) and I celebrated by laying around on the couch reading In Style and watching tv. Until I took out the garbage and felt how the humidity had died somewhat and it was actually a very pleasant night. So now I'm outside, where the wifi signal is somewhat low, at least until I finish this post.

I haven't felt this at home in a long time. Not at my old apartment and not in my college apartment. Or even when I came home from college and lived in the house where I grew up. Honestly, I haven't felt this comfortable since my second or third semester living in my sorority house. We've lived in our apartment for three months (time is flying) and since the beginning it has felt more homey than our old digs. It's neat, relaxing, and the kind of place you want to be after working 12 hours everyday of the week. It's taken me longer to get adjusted to the new neighborhood; I haven't felt 100% comfortable here, but it's getting better. After my West Town weekend with Anne, I feel much more at home. It's difficult when the majority of my friends don't live around here, but in Lincoln Park or Lakeview (near where we used to reside). I don't regret moving here, I just wish that more of my friends were closer. But it's officially the first day of summer and I plan on taking more time to relax and enjoy myself at home (or around home) in the coming months....before it becomes too cold to consider crossing Ashland.

a fest for book nerds

It finally felt like summer today. The warm temperatures, the trip to the beach, the outdoor dining and drinking - none of these had gotten me in the mood for summertime. But earlier this week I made plans with myself to attend the Printers Row Book Fair today and had a beautiful, sunny, book-filled afternoon.


Printers Row, at the northern tip of the South Loop, was filled with large tents of books: new, used, expensive, cheap, rare, popular, hardcover, paperback. Booksellers from across the city and state set up in the streets and on the sidewalks. There were stages set up in the center and southern end of the fair for author readings. Book lovers like me crowded into the tents, hovering over the books. Often the lines were two or three deep just to get up to the bookshelves. I found myself standing on tiptoe to see the titles, occasionally reaching out my hand for something I liked. I bought one used book, a $4 copy of Empire Falls. Unlike many of the other book nerds, I wasn't there to scour the racks for books. I didn't really have the patience. My trip was planned around the readings.

I had the pleasure of seeing one of my favorite writers read for the first time. Augusten Burroughs's reading was at 2:30. For me (and for other readers/writers like me), readings are like the red carpet of the literary world. It's your chance to see your favorite author up close, maybe even have some Q&A or dialogue with the mind you so admire. I arrived more than early enough to peek through the fair and get a prime spot for the reading. I ended up sitting on the ground right in front of the stage where the tall and lanky Burroughs read a story from (I assume) his new book. He talked about the show he's writing for Showtime, the film adaptation of Running With Scissors, and James Frey. He was funny and he reminded me that I should be writing everyday. Easier said than done.

After four hours of weaving through the crowd, I left with a red CSPAN Book TV bag containing my signed copy of RWS, my signed copy of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius (I missed the Dave Eggers reading, but made it to the signing), my new used book, and a 1972 New Yorker cover suitable for framing. And now, worn out and full from veggie enchiladas, I'm enjoying summer from my couch.

it's here already?

Weather in Chicago is a constant punchline. It's unpredictability is so regular that there is always a joke to be made about the current season, month, or weather pattern. We get blizzards in April and no snow throughout January. Every year it seems that those two inbetween seasons, Spring and Fall, pass Chicago by. Though I've lived in this area my entire life and should know better, I always get my hopes up that Spring will really come (for longer than a week) and we'll have a gradual warm up to Summer. Every year there are a few days that seem to fit my expectations and then - wham! - it's 45 degrees and rainy. Oh, and there's snow in the forecast for tomorrow. So every year Summer attacks the Windy City with a one-two punch: heat and humidity. They often come together, wearing down thousands of Chicagoans who, even though it's brutal, fight to walk through the heavy, heated air just because "it's nice outside".

Memorial Day traditionally acts as an opening to Spring and our weather is a sign of that. It's hot and humid here (90 degrees), when only last week it was barely pushing 70. The sudden summer is a welcome relief to those cool, unspringlike days we've been having, but it's also hard to get used to all at once. After being out of town for two days, I returned to a hot and sticky apartment where, it soon became clear, we would have to turn on the AC. I then decided to join thousands of other people in the city at the beach.

(This is when I miss my old place. It was SO close to the beach, I took it for granted. I now have to take the bus to get to the lakefront and that is quite unpleasant in the heat and sweatiness.)

I went alone, eager to catch a few hours alone with my iPod and the sun. Admittedly, I am a sun worshipper. There's a reason I was a lifeguard for six years. I love being outside doing absolutely nothing in the sun (something I think I inherited from both of my parents, both of whom are sun worshippers themselves). When I flipped onto my stomach, I was looking out at the lake, not believing that another summer was already here. As much as I complained about the winter, it seems to have been nonexistent now that summer is back. That's the thing about Chicago. We wonder why we live here when it's cold and nasty, but as soon as summer arrives, we forget all about the frozen snot in our noses and gear up for festival season. The beach was packed with other sungods and goddesses like myself, alone and in groups. There were families and teenagers. Frisbee throwers, bike riders, and runners. I caught myself watching two teenage girls furtively smoking cigarettes on the sand. They walked around nervously, circling the same area, and trying to look as cool as possible smoking while simultaneously hoping their parents wouldn't see. I remembered my own summers of being sneaky with my friends because that's what those summers were all about. These days, it seems like summer is jam-packed with weekend plans (weddings, showers, BBQs, short trips, concerts, festivals); there is seldom time to just enjoy.

So that's what I did this afternoon, my first official day of summer. I just enjoyed. I came home and enjoyed a cool shower. I enjoyed sitting in our air conditioned apartment and just talking with my roommates. And I enjoyed a nice al fresco meal with my roommate at a restaurant down the street. We had nowhere to be, no plans to fulfill - the way summer should be.

conan takes chicago

Conan O'Brien is in town taping his show yesterday through Friday. For some reason, this has brought extreme excitement to the Chicago area. You'd think we never had a talk show taped here before.

Conan's show is being filmed at the Chicago Theatre, which is right around the corner from my office. This means I get to see the craziness up close: the eager Conan lovers standing in line all day, just hoping for a stand-by ticket to the show. And getting a stand-by ticket doesn't guarantee admittance. Oh no, there is another line for that.

Can someone tell me what the madness is all about? Maybe I take for granted that I've been in TV audiences before....but those crazy crowds and lines are just not worth it.

wok 'n roll

My legs are still tired from Sunday.

Jill and I woke up early for an MS Walk down in Grant Park. The walk was only three miles which, because we were chatting and listening to the conversations around us, went by quickly. Yet we also had to walk to the train, from the train to the park, from the park to the train, and home from the train. Tack on another mile, mile and a half.

It was a beautiful day. We couldn't have gotten better walking conditions. Sunny, mid-60s, not a cloud in the sky. The walk was along the lakefront and reminded me of the only reason I miss my old apartment. The nice weather made us want to stay outdoors, to do something with our Sunday. We were done with the walk by 10:30; the entire day was before us. Besides, Jill had done absolutely nothing with herself on Saturday and was feeling like she'd been too lazy.

On our walk back to the El, we decided to go to Chinatown because a) we wanted to get lunch and b) it would be nice to go somewhere completely different for food, and c) in my lifetime of living in Chicago I have never been to Chinatown. When we got home, we told our other roommate, Anne, what we had planned. She was on board since she, like me, had never been there.

Some more walking (blue line to red line, around Chinatown).

We found a nice little place to eat and sampled each other's vegetarian entrees. We browsed in the gift shops, jewelry shops, groceries, and other stores. Our last stop was Woks N Things which sold exactly that. To my delight, I found a wok for $11. Anne bought a tea kettle. I marveled at our grown-up purchases. You know you're old when you buy housewares rather than kitschy trinkets in the shops.

Wok in one hand, leftover tofu in the other, we headed back home. I was thrilled with my purchase, though I probably looked somewhat silly walking down Division with a large wok in my hand. Now I just need some tasty stir-fry recipes (send them my way!).

an intersection of entertainment

No more secondhand internet access!

I finally have a real, honest connection.

This is incredible.


It is beautiful in Chicago today, and I wish I had an excuse to be outdoors right now. But after I got off work the only thing I really wanted to do was veg out on the couch, something I don't often have time for. Our front window, right next to the right side of the couch, provides hours of entertainment. We don't really need On Demand and 500+ channels when we've got neighbors. And our new apartment is in much more of a neighborhood than our old place ever was. Kids, dogs, bikes, parking spaces, street fairs (oh, i can't wait!). And it's a diverse neighborhood as well. Multiple languages being spoken. Different age groups: young singles, young couples, older couples, families. Our building is made up of the first group and my roommates and I are the only women. It's much quieter over here. Gone are the restless nights when loud, drunk people wake me with their yelling. Fewer sirens. No more honking. It's peaceful around here. The only thing I hear at night aside from the general noises in our building is the dog next door. And that's rare.

As the weather gets warmer, Chicagoans come out of hibernation. The outdoor cafes are filling up, and there are people all over the streets. We have a back porch now which, once we have some furniture, will be a great place to unwind after work. The spirit of springtime makes me want to stay out until I have to go to bed. When it was colder, I didn't want to do anything after 6 pm. Now the idea of going out is intriguing. In a few weeks it will be mandatory. Since summer seems so brief, the city takes full advantage of the warm and pleasant days (and nights). We attack summer with all our might, knowing that we can recover once September comes around. With that, I think my roommate and I are going to a concert tonight. We are both in need of some relaxation outside the apartment (and with some good music as well).

Erin Go Bragh!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Chicago celebrates this holiday for about eight days. Since I grew up here, I just assumed that everyone nationwide celebrated St. Patrick's Day with the gusto that we Chicagoans do. After speaking with some of my friends from other places, however, I realize that this is not the case. Many people are not wearing green today. Multiple people have asked me what Erin Go Bragh means because they have never heard the phrase before. My friend Stacey had no idea that McDonald's made Shamrock Shakes for the holiday. Is it really possible that people elsewhere don't go bonkers on March 17th? I can understand not having parades or dying the river green, but the idea of not getting a Shamrock Shake or going out for corned beef & cabbage (a family tradition growing up) just puzzles me.

Surprisingly, I don't think I'll be going out to celebrate tonight. I know, I know. It's March 17th in Chicago. I should be indulging in a Guinness in whichever Irish-themed bar I find. But I've got an all-day St Patty's Party tomorrow beginning at 9am (complete with 4 or 5 kegs of green beer), and I know that if I want to be in drinking shape I'd better take it easy tonight.

Slainte!

Chicago Cupcake Update

For those of you in the Chicagoland area jonesing for your fix of a NYC cupcake, head over to Sweet Mandy B's in Lincoln Park. So far, this is the winner of my cupcake search. Very cute little place (and it smelled so good in there), and I will definitely be making a return trip some day. Better than Magnolia since a)cupcakes were only $1.50, b) there were more varieties of cupcakes to choose from, and c) I didn't have to wait more than three minutes.

However, now that I am moving away from this area, I will crown my 2nd choice of the cupcake challenge: Alliance Bakery & Cafe. This is actually just down the street from my new apartment (which could be deadly).

Spring has not spring (or, We only have two seasons in Chicago)

This is why I hate Chicago.

Today it is a balmy 60 degrees. Though rainy, it is still pleasant outside. I didn't shiver in the early morning cold while waiting for the bus. My coat was unnecessary when walking from the gym to work this morning. I'm wearing a skirt, but I don't fear an evening chill when I leave the office for dinner and theater tonight.

The gloves, scarves, and hats have all been removed. Everyone on the streets has opted for lighter coats and are actually visible without all the winter accoutrements. Chicagoans are thinking about baseball, the lake, outdoor happy hours, and flip flops.

But true Chicagoans know that with these early Springlike days come late Wintry days. Many of the worst snowfalls I remember have occurred after February. What makes them especially painful is their timing. Once March rolls around, we in the Windy City start crossing our fingers, not even saying the "s" word for fear that we'll jinx ourselves and remain in the artic freeze. And since this Winter has been quite mild, it would be entirely appropriate for Mother Nature to dump a few feet of that stuff on us.

Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to my weekend of 60-degree springtime weather, which will only be followed by a blizzard.

Lake Effect

For all of those Chicagoans who have been complaining about the lack of a "real winter" around here, rejoice. Smile. Make snow angels. Stick your tongue to a flagpole.

Because the forecast is COLD all week. There is snow on the ground. And I am not happy.

Overheard in Chicago

I wish the Windy City had a site of its own. Since we don't, I'll post what I hear.

Homeless Man: Season's Greetings! I don't do drugs! Help the homeless!

-Wabash & Wacker