my current boss. who wouldn't like to work for the ever-sassy, recently divorced and hysterical about it, goddess of the azores ball-busting state government force that is alda rego. she keeps me laughing, she keeps me on my toes, and best of all, she doesn't cry/want to discuss feelings too much/go into rages and will swap dirty stories and jokes with me. tomorrow i have to tell her that i am leaving and also beg to work some weekends in lieu of taking unpaid time off for my job hunt trip. i know she'll be cool about it, but giving up a great boss and great coworkers is always a sacrifice. after a horrible 8 months with the crazy feminists at my last gig, this experience has truly been therapeutic and rad. le sigh.
trader joe's. yeah, yeah - they have 'em in chicago, too. i know it. but can i walk to it? can i walk through lovely brookline neighborhoods with flowery gardens and streets lined with recycle bins and hybrids? perhaps. i certainly hope so and will have my cloth grocery sacks at the ready. after all, whatever will i do without cinnamon crumpets?!?
my wee garden-level apartment. the one that i know all the little quirks of. like how the heater sounds like someone's attacking the pipes with a hammer in the winter. every night - clang clang thump. my claw-footed antique bathtub. ahhh. sure, i'll try to find a place with the same type of tub, but i shall miss my little buddy. my kitchen - the biggest one i've ever had in an apartment - that actually afforded me space for cookbooks, spices, and (omg) pots, pans, and other accoutrements to spare. swoon. the little dog park across the street where people bring their pups (duh) and play with their children. all the beautiful molding and floors. being right around the corner from tasca (yum yum tapas) and zocalo (yum yum mole' and sangria). obviously, it's my home, so it feels homey to me - but this little apartment has been good to me. so, i will miss it.
chacarero. oh, you wily one-of-a-kind, think about you in my sleep chilean sandwich dive. green beans on a sandwich? yes, please. amazing. and for $6 i am properly stuffed full of good ingredients. and b.good! sure, there are probably fantastic healthy "fast food" places in chicago, but where else can i flirt with anthony, the socially awkward owner who gives me discounts on fruit shakes?
running across the mass ave. bridge. chicago has some amazing sights. but nothing makes me feel more like rocky/in a music video/in some sort of german techno film like running up and down the mass ave bridge, the city skyline and charles river flanking me on each side. it's friggin' awesome.
oak, fiddlehead, and sweet. i discovered these only recently, but they've become a ritual. i make my way over to oak to check out the locally made artist goodies, such as amazing necklaces and cute cards. it's the go-to place for unique gifts and the prices are fit for a pauper. then i mosey over to fiddlehead, the green emporium of boston, where they stock a whole bunch of cute finds made of recycled/repurposed stuff. afterward, i hop, skip, and jump to sweet for a carrot cake mini cupcake. sure it's $2, but it's also sinfully gorgeous. i fear that they will come out with a red velvet variety right as i leave. yikes! the commonwealth avenue mall plays a part in this scenario, as many memories of me and hays walking home, missing abbey, and consoling ourselves with chatter of the day and the cure/morrissey melodies, flood back whenever i walk it.
the south end. yeah, i know. i don't spend much time there, but if i were rich or a happily paired off gay male with poodles and an adopted asian baby, i would. i mean, the franklin cafe? hi. deelish. and the beehive? cute, though the saturday night scene can keep you guessing whether the guy chatting you up is just whimsical and straight or keeping your company because your handbag is so goddamn fabulous. and flour. oh baby jesus, flour. where i can get raspberry sodas and ham and cheese pockets. cinnamon creme brioche and trifles (yogurt parfaits, haley! har). yes, i know this post is becoming very foodie-centric, but i just made (from scratch!) tikka masala (with some chickpeas for good measure and economy) and it smells gorgeous (if i do say so myself) and is making me think of deliciousness.
the coolidge corner cinema. i mean, i saw the movie about dr. bronner here. obviously i love it.
and, of course, the peeps i've met here. who have really made my life amazing in every way.
OKAY - enough of that soggy stuff. i'm in serious savings mode because, after the bahamas accommodation debacle, which we will not devote this post to, i am in the hole and must start gathering ye funds for the impending move. good thing i'm crafty. i've posted my nary-used luxury items on CL and ebay, so the suckers can come a'runnin'. i sold the tiffany necklace i won at the boston chamber of commerce luncheon back in january this afternoon to some chick for a cool $200. wore the bauble twice and besides, i'm really not a fan of the tiffany. i've also reinstituted "eat your cupboards bare" week/month, which always inspires ingenuity, if not a little depression. i mean really, you can only eat couscous and black beans and other foodstuffs for so long before you crave something bright and luscious. so, i bought some additions today and plan on making and freezing lunch/dinner for the next two weeks. some people read this and say "so what? i live off of ramen." well, good on you, pal. that ain't me. my mood is infinitely calmer and i'm more productive when i have healthy, fresh stuff in my fridge and can pack tasty lunches. in fact, i will spring out of bed early and run my little heart out if i know there's a sourdough and veggie sausage sandwich and strong coffee waiting for me back home. no groceries = no happy.
oh yeah, the important stuff. interview tally for chicago so far = 6. i'm working on amassing more. in fact, i've been a freaking lying pest to mayor daley's office. i think the receptionist is on to me because she keeps asking me "now, who referred you to speak with his chief of staff again?" and each time, i fish through my list of "important people in chicago who i don't really know because i'm a bastard" and arbitrarily throw one out. i figure i'll seal the meeting and then, when the chief of staff says, "now, how did you get referred to me?," i'll act puzzled and say, "i'm not exactly sure what you mean" like there was no need for a referral because she thought that i was such a grand candidate that i needed no introduction. this could make for some interesting stories, but hey, i'm like curly sue. minus the curls, but keeping with the scrappy. i have no idea what that means, but caroline and i watched that movie in our guest house in the bahamas one night and were both in tears by the end (it's something about that belushi guy. weird). the islands do crazy things to those who are used to being mostly land locked. we did meet a whole bevy of lads from the kellogg school of business. it was as if the heavens opened up because hi, here we are in the, as i affectionately deemed it, "ass crack of the caribbean," paying $20 for rotting meat and cans of coca-cola, and off we go to a club one night and run into a whole crew (lads and ladies) of very fun, tres cool chicago-dwellers. and, come on, i also swam with dolphins and got cozy with murray, the sea lion from the movie "andre." smitten. i am so in love with sea lions. they're like huge swimming dogs. they even have toenails (i know because i got to touch 'em. don't be jealous). that being said, i had a rad time in many respects, but am happy to be back. not only do i have a new found appreciation for the USofA, but i also don't have to spend 10 minutes slathering sunblock on every exposed inch of flesh or fighting off ravenous mosquitoes. i left the bahamas with 10 bites and yes, one of them is on my face.
obsessions of the week:
burt's bees orange facial cleanser
estelle and kanye's "american boy" club remix
lending books to friends
dr. bronner's rose soap
this old photo of my great grandmother (she took it herself when she was likely 30-something), topless and in tap pants, her bosoms strategically covered by a sassy ascot. she looks so glam. i have no idea what she took it for, but i am getting it framed asap.
navy blue patent leather strappy pumps with baubles (shit on the toe) from old navy
red lipstick
getting giddy for autumn
hooray and have a wonderful week, little bluebonnets!
1 comment:
Shit on the toe AND yogurt parfaits... Life is wonderful.
Boston does seem better when 1) you don't live there anymore, 2) you're feeling reflective, and 3) you forget that time you almost stepped on a rat/saw a guy peeing in Downtown Crossing/got farted at on the Comm Ave Mall/spent any time with Townies...
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