Winter Thaw

Hello, sparrows! I could use this post as an opportunity to recount events of the past 6 months in Chicago (which have largely been AWESOME). But instead, I'd going to itemize my shopping wish list. Since money is tight, I've been on the hunt for economical (and environmentally, in some cases) goodies for future purchase. Feedback welcomed, but overall, I think this stuff is tres cute. Besides, presenting these items in such a way will help me ascertain whether or not I'm still interested in them a week or a month down the road:

Shoes (both are less than $45 each!)

Recent Obsession - Keds

and

Handbags
Recent Obsession - Felix Rey for Target

2 Girls + 1 Truck, Vampires, and A Very Windy City

It was nary a month ago that Haley and I boarded the Penske truck and I heeded the words, "Go west, young woman." Not only was the drive fantastic and laden with expert Haley Glover playlists of Toad, Chicago (the Peter Cetera days, of course), Morrissey (le sigh), and the Cure; large, sausagey meals from the Erie, PA Cracker Barrel, and lots of chatting and reminiscing - but the drive was also accompanied by snow, freezing rain, and the lovely surprise of receiving a 16 foot truck, as opposed to the 12 foot one I reserved. After getting over the additional 4 feet to accommodate ("that difference is only a little shorter than I am!"), we settled into being road warriors of the best kind. It was a truly memorable journey. We arrived safely at Amber's abode on the 16th, played with darling house doggies for most of the day, and then took Hays to the airport (so she could present at a conference in MN - what a friend!). The remaining days were spent moving into my apartment, fighting with IKEA about my couch, hosting my father and my mother via separate, but equally lovely trips, and visiting the Anti-Cruelty League (right down the road from me, trouble) to have tearful hellos and goodbyes with shetler pups of my dreams who I could not take home because I travel too much. WTF was I thinking taking a consulting gig, when all I want is to give those dogs a nice home?! Ah, well.

A month in, I've adjusted well at work, which has me going to Indianapolis every M-Th to work on a health and human services project. Normally, this would suck, but I get to see Haley at least once a week (last night we saw "Twilight" swooooooon) and the Westin is kind of like a floating spaceship of convenience right in the middle of downtown Indy. Snowing outside? No worries! The Westin has a skybridge that will take you right to the mall, the movie theatre, the TJ Maxx, and the food court (hi, Johnny Rockets and Chik-Fil-A). I even like the Westin toiletries and have grown accustomed to the synthetic smell of white team being pumped through the lobby. The 3 hour drives to and from are made better by the fact that I am on the project with some KPMG folks who have turned out to be pretty swell. And, when I finally get back to my darling, 28th floor view of Chicago, I treasure my home time and my weekends more than ever. I am greeted by Gandhi, the little, ever-welcoming doorman who I love so much I've taken to baking him cakes and cookies to express my gratitude, and I never have to worry about a dying rat or a noisy stoner urinating on the facade of my building. And though Chicago is bitch-ass cold, cheap cabs and a puffy down coat make it easy to explore and fall even more in love with.

I'm slowly exploring my neighborhood (both because of the cold and the time in Indy). I live next to a fantastic, cheap tapas place that is hopping in the evenings. If I take a right out of my apartment, I can hit up Barney's, a cupcake boutique (trouble), and see my fill of disgustingly nipped and tucked women with impossibly small dogs donning ridiculously cruel floor-length furs. They call that area "Viagra Circle," because when the sun goes down, the older, wealthy businessmen come out to play...with their young, nubile escorts. If I go left, I get into the more salt-of-the-eart Old Town and River North, brimming with dog shelters, eco-boutiques, and the Moody Bible Academy. In fact, I was eating at a restaurant before Thanksgiving and was struck by a very handsome guy taking his little sister (he was ~ my age and she was ~12) to dinner. He was so polite and Harry Potteresque and I was swooning as I watched him teach her how to make a little football out her her napkin ring and kick a fake field goal through his fingers. Then, when their meals came, he instigated one of the longest in-public sayings of grace I'd ever seen. Not that this really deterred me - I'm down with the spirituality and can totally embrace the idea of a sexy man of faith or whatever, but it was a little astonishing - until I realized that I was steps from the Bible academy. Then, of course, I was consumed with thoughts of corrupting buttoned-up Bible academy men. Rowr.

For the most part, Chicago still holds the "people are nice" badge with me. Of course, like all cities, there are outliers, but for the most part, folks are dandy. And the nightlife is all that. Truly. Mike Mason has been kind enough to show Amber and me the grittier, more Indie sides of Wicker Park and Rogers Park, complete with their ping pong bars, incredibly over lit Polish dives run by foul-mouthed women named Olga, and places with great jukeboxes where you can linger over heated Scrabble games with hipsters. Work folks and friends-of-Boston-friends have shown me the glossier bars in town, complete with David Schwimmer sightings (and brief interaction - he asked me if I was a "naughty librarian," I think because I had come from work and was wearing a sweater vest) and 2am trips to the 'Rock n' Roll' McDonald's. My cousin Laura has shown me great brunch spots, salsa dancing clubs, and the Lyric Opera. One of these weekends, I will hunker down at the Field Museum or the Art Institute and take it all in. Snowy walks downtown to Christmas shop always feel magical. Yeah, the cold is a bitch, but the snow falling around the city is beautiful and, I'm usually surprised by new discoveries like Puppet Bike (puppetbike.com - amazing) or some dude selling delicious smelling Chicago dogs outside the Macy's. It's really wonderful to have new, unexplored things to look forward to every day. And even better, is when the things you've already explored still give you a rush. I know it won't always be this intense, but after just a month, I already feel incredibly at home here. And my demeanor is much calmer now that the B line is a distant memory. A 5 minute ride on the bus, where I usually get a seat and/or get to chat with someone interesting is how I get to work - easy and happy.

Of course, I miss my Boston folk and old haunts, too. Much as I love the relative ease and glamour of my new digs, I miss the sound and feel of hardwood underfoot and the ability to have the windows open so I can hear the trees rustle and people walk by with their dogs (of course, I am romanticizing this - usually it was that I was hearing someone digging through the trash or the constant 'ting ting ting' of Rigatone - such is the anthem of Brighton). I miss my little routine of going to Whole Foods, reading trashy books and listening to certain songs on the T. I miss Polar pomegranate and vanilla seltzer, which does not exist in the Midwest. I miss friends and pseudo-family and coworkers and b.Good - Lord, how I miss b.Good. Of course I miss things and people and memories, but I've traded up. People in Chicago don't think I'm strange when I chirp out peppy hellos. People on the street say hi to one another. I haven't seen anyone litter (though I'm sure it happens, Chicago is fucking clean as a whistle). It's all I really wanted from a city - to be somewhere where people sort of give a shit about one another and where they live.

And let's talk about Edward Cullen. Lord, how can a fictitious vampire character ruin me for all other men? Every time I read that damn 'Twilight' book or watch the film, I am sighing like an old spinster. How can a human be that stunning, that interesting, that mysterious, that sensitive, that sexy, and that protective/strong/fast/nice dressingerish? It's unfair! I actually had to stop reading the book because it was making me develop a "why bother?" attitude about dating. I'd read it, go on a date, and act formidable, but the whole time I'd think, "this guy is not as fast/strong/sexy/inwardly conflicted as Edward Cullen." Ha. Yes, Robert Pattinson is a creature of unfathomable beauty. And the pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes combo? Well, I've been on that bandwagon long before that Mormon chick put pen to paper. BUT, it's not because he's so hot that entirely accounts for the allure. Men, take note - the character is interesting and sexy because he (a) is interested in Bella in the truest sense, as in he asks her questions, exhibits real concern for her, etc and (b) because he's protective of her. At least, these seem to be what resonate with me. Am I 27 and blogging about a fictitious vegetarian vampire character? Yeah - so what?!

I wish I could say I have work to do, but I don't. After a bushel of work, today is slow slow slow, hence the blogging. I will post some pics of the apartment and nights out soon. Right now, all I want to do is go back to the 'Westin heavenly bed' and sleep. If only.

kiss kiss, little bumblebees!

Precious Roy: "Buy my hookers"

Howdy, campers.  Let us all take a knee while I relate tales of moving, packing, and my unsupervised, unassisted use of wood glue.  And, if you don't understand the title, well, that's okay.  It just means that we can't be friends.  Hey, sometimes shit happens.  I kid.  Precious Roy was a sketch on Sifl and Olly, the greatest damn sock puppet show ever.  If you've never seen it, well take a little visit to YouTube and czech it out (too lazy to hyperlink).

Anyways, I am experiencing mover's block.  I am surrounded by boxes, bubble wrap, and tons of stuff I need to pack and yet I am writing this blog.  I concede that I am a tad overwhelmed.  With less than a week left in Boston, I am feeling a little emotional and boy, does it show in fun ways.  After a particularly stupid Friday night, I woke on Saturday to get my hair did and mosey over to the hardware store for stuff that rugged people like.  You see, for awhile I was all into the idea of buying all new furniture when I got to Chitown.  Then something got into me where I was sitting in my apartment one night, listening to the jazz station on cable, and feeling nostalgic about my art deco dresser and my desk.  I had this grand idea that I would refurbish them and they'd come out looking great.  So, last night I painted the desk a lovely dark cobalt blue and gave it a new drawer pull, while my dresser got new drawer pulls and a nice sand and stain session.  Great.  Ya know what, they look better, but I can't see either of them in my new place.  They're either too big, too small, or just not right.  So, all that work and $45 later and I will likely be listing them as free on CL tomorrow.  Sheesh.  Not to mention, my nails, face, arms, etc are still covered in blue paint splatters and little drips of furniture stain and polish.

As I was loading stuff in the basement to take to Goodwill today, I noticed a dead ratty on one of the glue traps.  Oh grosscity.  Oh, how I cannot wait to live in a place where I will never have to set foot in a basement, let alone have to dispose of a decomposing animal right next to my apartment.  While I will miss the good times I've had in my little apartment, making meals and hosting friends, I will not miss my neighbors, the basement, the laundry room (where people are inconsiderate and steal dryer time and/or throw away their laundry detergent bottles when there is a recycle bin right outside the door), or the rodent infestation.  While high rise places may lack soul, I feel I've earned my new elevator taking/no more dish washing by hand/washing my clothes in my own apartment existence.  It's going to be rad.

And as much as I know that Chicago is going to be rad, I am starting to feel sad/very nervous.  I'm sure this is normal (though the last time I had a comparable experience, I couldn't fucking wait to head to...you heard me right...Boston), but it's perhaps responsible for my stalling packing.  There's nothing here I'm staying for, I guess I am just still overwhelmed that just a month ago, this was a dream and now it's happening and I have to have all hands on deck.  It's wonderful, but frightening at the same time.  I love and highly value the feeling and knowledge that I can pretty much do anything, weather any situation, but at the same time, it can drive you crazy with wondering if I'm too nomadic?  My gut feeling is no - the world is a very big place and I knew long ago that I wanted to experience as much of life as I could.  Does this mean that I am going to join the Peace Corps and be living in huts in Rwanda until I'm too old to walk?  Nope.  Does it mean I feel like spending time in a city that I'm not crazy about?  Nope.  Life, while actually quite long, is simply too short to spend time in a place that doesn't make you happy.  It's like marrying someone you're just lukewarm about or working a job for 20 years that sends you home crying every night.  Commitment and stability are excellent virtues and ideas - they feel good in practice.  But only if they're rooted in something valuable to you.  Keeping things the same (when they're not all that) because you fear the repercussions of change is silly in my opinion.  Hence the foolish consistency being the hobgoblin of little minds shit.  I'll miss people and things and places here, no doubt.  But there's no cap on how much or how many things I can love.  There's plenty of room for Boston to coexist with my fervor for Chicago.  So, yeah.  I'm scared (mostly of driving that truck).  But I have to believe that life rewards risks - or, at the very least, that these moments build character.  Or, at the very least, that Hays and I are going to have a hell of a time getting there and might meet a dog that needs rescuing along the way.

I'm still eating everything in sight, although I now blame this on my incredible emotional excitement over Obama's victory.  Not only is it monumental for all of the obvious reasons, but it makes going to Chicago all the sweeter.  The sweetness of victory is tinged with sadness for our LGBT pals, though.  WTF - Arizona, Cali, and Arkansas?  This gay marriage/adoption stuff really gets me fired up.  If your life is so small and you feel marriage is the apex of everything, sure, I can see why you'd be threatened by other folks so unlike you wanting to get married.  If you're so self-righteous to see marriage as something caressed by the Lord only for heteros, then yes, I can see why you'd be a perturbed.  I can also see why you're fucking stupid and need to get your head out of your ass.  See, last time I checked, marriage was about love.  On Wednesday morning, I awoke to Facebook status updates from dumbasses that I grew up with saying, "we may have lost the war, but we won the battles to preserve the sanctity of marriage."  OMG.  Really?  Because I'm pretty sure your husband - yeah, the one you met Freshman year at that Baptist college you went to for like a second to find a husband - is beating off to gay porn on the Rent-A-Center computer you kids have right now.  I'm being fresh.  I believe in marriage and think it's incredible.  But I would never want to deny an entire group of people the opportunity to marry.  And heteros haven't been doing so great at marriage anyways - hi, let's look at the Duggars, for God's sake.  By the time you're done reading this message, they will have had another child.  That's not a marriage, that's a breeding assembly line.

Which brings me to my more heated argument - adoption.  Adoption is fucking incredible.  It really is.  Arkansas prohibiting gay couples or single folks from adopting is despicable.  Yes, because letting kids languish in group homes as opposed to going home with someone who really gives a shit about them is good policy.  I visited the Arkansas website for the Prop on Facebook and it was really awesome.  By awesome, I mean someone with a very low IQ and logical reasoning skills put it together.  "In MA, where they allow gay adoptions, gay parents are now received preferential treatment over straight couples."  Really?  Not really?  That's a flat out lie.  Perhaps they neglected the fact that gay couples are more likely to be open to adopting children of color; siblings together; older kids; kids with special needs.  Last time I checked, most heterosexual couples were not banging down the doors of local social services for a crack addicted hispanic 8 year old with Autism.  Right, because for those folks they want a little white infant, which is rare in social services.  Which is why most couples (aside from those who, in my opinion, are fucking awesome) go through IVF bullshit and adoption abroad/adoption through private organizations long before they reach the last resort of going to social services.  I'm not saying that I feel that social services should be seen as a last resort - no way - I plan on adopting from social services.  There are great kids there.  I'm just saying that it's statistically proven that most people want a BABY and that gay couples are statistically more likely to adopt children who are no less wonderful, but just might happen to have a few more behaviors/situations that others find challenging.  So shame on you, Cali, Arizona, and Arkansas.

Now I must go and scrape the wood glue off my floor.  Sticky stuff.  Don't ask.  

How to Gain 5lbs in 3 weeks

You might be wondering how such a thing is possible.  Well, I'll tell you - moving.  Yes, folks, plan a cross-country move in a few weeks from job hunting to loading up the Penske, to successfully transitioning your job, and you WILL eat everything in sight.  That's been me.  Oh, and I cancelled my gym membership just a few weeks ago (see the correlation?) - just in time for it to get too nippy outside to run.  Today I had not one lunch, but two.  How does this happen, you might ask?  I'm not really sure.  One minute, I am running errands or busting ass at work and the next, I've got a bag of carrots/rice pudding/burrito/chocolate croissant in my hand.  And I'm not getting very much sleep.  Basically I wake up, eat lots of food, commute to work, eat more food, work really, really hard, commute home (whilst thinking about eating lots of food), open my home to strangers from the internet to sell my furnishings, and then eat some more while doing chores about the house.  Occasionally I sleep and having a bath has been rare, rare, rare.  Do I have a scale to ascertain my weight gain?  Nope.  Perhaps that fact that I nearly bust a zipper today is evidence enough?  Sheesh.

Good news, though.  I did find a radical apartment.  I'm pretty psyched about my little apartment in a luxury highrise (boutique, mind you - we'd still like to know our neighbors) in the Gold Coast neighborhood.  Lots of old trees and lovely shops.  Dive bars to my left and Barney's and Prada to my right.  After working Friday, flying to Chitown Friday night, apartment hunting all Saturday, and heading back to Boston on Sunday, I'm pretty freaking whipped.  Of course, I am up nervously blogging as opposed to sleeping, so I'm doing just great.  My apartment is rad, though, and I am very excited.  It's totally dog friendly (even has its own dog pack attached to the building) and I met many of the lovely local residents, of the two and four-legged variety who affirmed that my decision to live here was a good one.  And Amber went with me during the whole apartment hunt and was a complete gem.  I owe her big time.  So, in celebration, we ate a massive Italian dinner at Carmine's in my new neighborhood.  This place was apparently one of Al Capone's old haunts and is a favorite of old crooners still living.  The jalapeno flank steak was fucking legendary.  Then we walked through Washington Park and did a few passes by my new place before we headed back to Lake Forest, tired as tired can be.  I have some pics attached - as you can see, it's on the 28th floor, so the view is pretty clutch.  And I finally have a (a) dishwasher and (b) washer and dryer in the unit.  No rats.  No mice.  No roaches.  No students.  No stoners.  BLISS.  And the final selling point - when they took me up to the roofdeck, "All I Want" by Toad the Wet Fucking Sprocket was being piped through the speakers.  Amidst a panoramic view of Chicago on a lovely fall day I thought to myself, "yes, this is all I want right now."  And there you have it.  Chicago bound in less than two weeks.  For God Sakes!

My Kind of Town

Hello buddy bears!  I'm back to writing a little bloggy to chronicle the recent good news events.  I mean, most of you who've ever read my blog - well, I talk to you on a regular basis anyways, so whatever.  I'm basically writing this because I am sitting sniffly in my furniture-less apartment totally marveling at what is going to happen in just a few weeks.  That's right - Chicago is a GO and I am going way sooner than I had originally anticipated.  As of 11/15, Haley and I are loading up the moving truck and Thelma and Louise-ing it to Chi-town.  But first, I have to head back to Chicago (and my little Amber face!) and get me a sweet pad.  Preferably one of those luxury high rise jobs that has a balcony, gym, and maybe even a grocery store inside.  The kind of places on Michigan Avenue where they pre-screen out the unemployed and chronically stoned.  Yeah, that sounds elitist, but you know what?  I'm so there.  No more schlepping groceries a mile in the snow ON FOOT.  No more being woken up every evening at 2am to the sounds of my W.O.S. (waste of space) Filipino neighbor coughing, wheezing, and talking loudly about smoking pot right outside my window.  NO more will I venture into the basement to find suffering rodents on glue traps.  No more rodents, period.  I want a place that quality controls for that shit.  And if said place also has granite counter tops in the kitchen and allows dogs, well that's grand, too.  Amber and I will embark on the incredible house-hunt this Saturday and I think it will be lots of fun!

On to the cream: My week in Chicago was beyond awesome.  I spent every weekday pounding the pavement from 8am - 6pm, commuting in from Lake Forest in my little suit.  I averaged about 8 meetings/interviews a day and they were all glorious.  I met with the Mayor's office, the state commissioner for Dept. of Children and Families, and tons of consulting firms and foundations.  And the coolest part is almost everyone was ridiculously nice.  Cab drivers - nice.  The gals who work at Nine West - Nice (unlike the little whores at Copley).  The folks at bars - nice and friendly.  Chicago definitely lived up to what I have imagined it to be.  The weekends were spent partying with good folks and new friends.  The week nights were spent with Amber's wonderful, delightfully eccentric family, who truly treated me like one of their own.  I saw my cousin Laura, who I haven't seen in 8 years, and we have the most awesome time salsa dancing with her friends and making up for lost time.  I've never lived anywhere as an adult where I have family close by (this is largely because I have a pretty small family to begin with...) and I guess I never understood the townie mentality of staying in the same place you grew up.  I also saw it, based upon those I grew up with in Texas, as ridiculously simple - a way of shirking adventure, opportunity, and independence in life.  BUT, it was beyond nice to have someone I could rely on in Chicago - both with Amber and her fam there and my own Argentinian cousin.  While I love my own family and parents, I've spent a lot of time relying on friends or myself.  Both of which are great, but this is an added element of comfort that I wasn't expecting, but will truly come to appreciate.

*OH WAIT.  The Scorpion's "No One Like You" is on VH1 classic and holy smokes do I love this song.  I have always loved this song (and the Scorpions, come on...), but really, you haven't lived until you've seen Brian Peterik kill this on Guitar Hero.*

So yeah, I was perma-grin girl the whole time I was there.  And the boys.  Let's not even talk about that.  Let's just leave it at they're cute and mannerly.  Hurrah!  And the job hunt.  It was good.  Hectic, but almost...enjoyable.  Every interview was like having a pleasant conversation with someone.  None of this insane New England reserve permeating every inch of conversation.  I accepted an offer from a boutique government consulting firm, located right across city hall.  To be honest, I think I can do a great job at it, but I have no idea what I'm in for.  Travel 50% of the time, participating in business development, managing other consultants' projects.  I'm admittedly a little nervous, but I think it will be a good challenge.  And it exceeded my hopes - more money than I make now in Boston, which is a much more expensive city, the opportunity to travel and get exposure, a more varied work day, and the opportunity to get bonuses.  Wow.  It'll be pretty interesting to go from state gov to private sector consultant.

So, I have a few weeks to make this happen and, because I love my current boss, I'm working up to the very last day when I load up the truck.  I'm selling most of my furniture via CL, which has been interesting, because my apartment, as of recent has become like a brothel, with people floating in and out, giving me money, slinging a coffee table over their shoulder.  Perhaps the last part is unlike a brothel, but I digress...  It's really very liberating to get rid of stuff that weighs you down.  And just when I thought I'd be driving cross country alone, enter Haley Glover, who will be driving with me.  I'm very excited to have a companion - and to see how well we can maneuver a moving truck.  Rest assured, there will be lots of Morrissey, Depeche Mode, and New Order serenading our journey.

As with most things like this, the uncertainty is killer.  Had I read this entry back in August, all of the weekend nights I stayed in working on applications, cold calls I made, frustrations I had over petty things, and sleepless nights spent wondering if this is a completely ridiculous move would've likely never happened.  While most peeps make a move like this because of a significant other or a transfer from work, I put a pin on the map, based on a few fun visits I'd had there, and hoped that if I did my part, the universe would take care of the rest.  And though I'm not a Chicago resident just yet, I feel so grateful that things have fallen into place and that what has been an idea for a year or so, is quickly becoming a reality.  Folks at work come up to me and say, "why are you moving?" and I tell them that I've always felt like Chicago was a good fit, they say, "gosh, that's brave."  I don't really feel scared, so perhaps that why I don't feel particularly brave.  But yeah, I'll take it.  All I know is that I feel very excited for what's to come and have been heartily rockin' out to Irene Cara's "What a Feeling" and The New Radicals "You Get What You Give" with a fervor I never had before.  Thanks for all of your support, friend-os.  I can't wait for you guys to come visit!  Love love love.  SWAK!

here i am, chicago. rock you like a hurricane.

let's do this.  weeeeee!

favorite things

oprah has a show about favorite things.  too bad oprah's stupid and her favorite things suck.  here are some of mine - with some pics of things previously mentioned, but never photographically backed up.  i also solicit readers and friends to submit their own.  perhaps i'll do a follow-up post with all of your fave stuff?  is that lame?  oh well, just do it and we'll cross that bridge later.

malin + goetz lime tonic cologne

way out wax soy candles (preferably 'cozy home' and 'cinnamon')

dr. bronner's liquid and bar soaps in rose, peppermint, and eucalyptus (the liquid version is ideal for scented soaks in the tub - and all of them can be used for laundry, brushing teeth, and washing dishes)

john master's organics lavender hair conditioner (at $25 a pop, i haven't yet splurged, but the samples i steal from whole foods make me feel like a goddess.  the smell is amazing and totally natural)

fat free coffeemate creamer (though i am a strong coffee purist - i usually drink a pot of espresso each day, this is delicious and comes in lots of flavors)

NARS lipstick in 'funny face' (some women are pussies when it comes to cosmetics.  i am not.  iridescent hot pink lipstick is unbearably rad and i'm gonna rock it until i'm in the grave)

OPI for sephora nail varnish in 'never enough shoes' (the title sucks, but the color is a nice spin on the black you see everywhere.  glossy black with bronze shimmer)

bruno frisoni heels (i've never owned a pair, but he's the master of sky high heels with shit on the toe (velvet ribbons, jeweled satin, etc) and we all know how i love it when feet look like little presents)

chanel lipstick in 'lotus rouge' (just enough red to shock against pale skin, with a little tinge of orange.  it makes me feel likea  geisha and it's well worth the price because it lasts forever)

virginia johnson and lotta jansdotter textiles and clothes (amazing cashmere wraps, sparse scandinavian dresses, greeting cards, and canvas totes abound with these two and they're are beautiful)

anemonies, asters, and poppies (forget about chichi bouquets of roses, it's all about the messy, cut from the farm posies that get my heart racing)

hugging dogs (duh)

gold eyeshadow and eyeliner (strike the right shade of gold (think tequila, not lame') and it looks positively goddessesque)

the afghan my nonna knit me a few years back that's moroccan themed with patches of zigzaggy colors

the pic of my great grandmother, the opera singer, topless with ascot discreetly covering her bosoms (the caption reads "honey, i knew you'd want to know how the gloves and ascot look. love, ruth. self portrait. honest (underlined for effect)")

cooking while listening to jazz

chatting with friends and family on the phone, in succession, until i'm so laughed and chatted out that i fall asleep

american apparel headbands in bright colors

lush karma powder (amazing when sprinkled on bed linens, in shoes, or in the summer as a body powder)

yves saint laurent anything (if i were rich, i'd uniform myself head-to-toe in ysl, but for now, i do have the lush patent leather, satin-lined anais bag, which makes me swoon each time i touch it)

the homeless sammy davis junior impersonator/singer at the park street t stop (i helped this dude get permanent housing awhile back and every time i see him in the morning, he says into the microphone, "there's my wife.  the white woman" before singing 'the candy man')

experimenting with impromptu french toast and pancake combinations on weekend mornings

marmalade

ballgowns

my dresser which features: a morning glory that abs needlepointed for my birthday, a picture of my mother from the seventies, my great grandmother's antique clock (rescued from my grandpa's horrible second wife - we nearly came to blows), photo booth sticker pictures of me and amber when we were 22, a textile amber gave me from zanzibar, a picture of brian holding a puppy, a pic of me, hays, and abs walking through fanieul hall in the winter.  it's the first thing i see when i wake up and the combination makes me very happy.

the super ridiculous pic amber took of me when i was 24 after a night out that involved a very sexy swedish hipster named kurt, dancing to bloc party, and making out on a manhattan roof deck.  i look peeved, but really, it was 7am and i was blissfully happy.

going to the farmer's market and buying lush produce (and the occasional pesto - yum) see pics below.

i want to know what i think and what i'm feeling.

hello, bloggies!  it's been awhile, mainly because i've been spending the week trying (a) not to worry about job stuff for chicago, (b) being drunk, and (c) being holed up in my apt. because of the rain.  but, the radio silence is good because it means i've been doing kewl (i'm utilizing teenage speak to be ironic.  buckle up.) things and this entry will be rich with pics and fables.  so, take a knee, kids and listen to auntie ashie tell you all about this week's bounty.

the work week was grueling and chock full of pimping and self-promotion with a not-what-i-expected-or-hoped-for response.  but, as mentioned in other entries, i've 'come to jesus' (as my dad would say) with the fact that i can only put in so much and other things/people/fate-controlled-kewlness (#2) play a big role in how shit pans out.  so, i am being breezy about this exploration and looking at my visit as an opportunity to have criminal amounts of fun, which, for those of you who really know me and the events of, oh, say, the past few years, i truly deserve.  speaking of criminal amounts of fun, i reunited with brennon, emerson pal of yore, on friday night and boy, did we fuck some shit up.  some things are different from the last time we hung out.  for one, we're not in college.  two, i no longer have red hair and i now shave my legs. three, brennon is, as he puts it so eloquently, "gay GAY," which is great, but a bit disappointing because he looked tres cute in his little hat and stripy shirt.  dare i say that we had a super cool (said with french accent, if you please) time dancing to 90's music at the common ground and befriending (or being adopted by?) a group of 21 year old Berklee students with piercings, tattoos, and belt buckles in the shape of boom boxes.  between me pouring beer on brennon out of excitement and rascalishness during soul decision's "faded," to brennon telling people that we were brother and sister, gf/bf, and various other lies to satisfy his devious side, the night was rich with whiskey shots, amstel lights, and bumpin', grinding, and singing along with the youth of today.  we were such a hit with these cats that they invited us to their after party in the fens (which resulted in me losing my very beautiful umbrella in the cab.  sadness.).  wow.  brennon and i were forthcoming with our ages (26 and 27, respectively) from the beginning and these kids seemed not to care, inviting us into their home that was littered with music posters, keyboards, and heineken keg cans.  it was a surreal experience.  not only were we hammered, but we both made out with the boys (odd? sure.) for like a second and suffered through vapid conversations from some tube-topped college girls who were talking about how they're "like best friends, but like SOOOO different" (brennon does a really good impersonation).  we left our pals shortly after arriving, crashed at my place (where b made fun of my bedspread ("it looks like the oil on top of chicken soup or pita bread" and thanked me for "letting me have night emissions in your pajama pants), and made a morning pilgrimage to mcd's for sausagey goodness to sop up hangovers that only get worse as we become more acutely aware of our age.  we then parted ways because i had to go get a facial (found a gift certificate a few days back that i'd won at a raffle) at a chichi medi spa, the kind of place where the wealthy get covertly nipped and tucked to the point of looking like shiny lionesses.  

so naturally, i felt pretty awesome rolling in in beat up jordache jeans (a total score at marshall's) and a 'skullberry' hoodie (a gift from brian from our early skateboarding days), sipping coffee in the waiting room while russian receptionists in sky high heels pranced by like gazelles.  i meet my aesthetician, tricia, who's been under the knife a few times, and she sits me down to have a consultation where she tells me shit i pretty much already know, but hell, i love talking skin care.  she announces triumphantly, "well, i don't think you need any plastic surgery or injectables today, so let's just go with a facial."  thanks, tricia.  because, ya know, at 27, i was really worried that i might need serious intervention.  jesus.  i felt a bit like a hyperactive kid at a shrink's office, bracing myself for a hardcore prescription and being spared...for now.  too funny.

the facial was pretty awesome - done with sound waves (i had to wear a bracelet to channel the current and everything - very johnny five) and water.  it felt rad and the relaxing asian sitar type music lulled me to sleep for a bit.  the coolest part was when tricia let me look in a mirror while she was doing the treatment and you could literally see shit being coaxed for my pores.  now, if you know me well, you know i love this stuff.  i have an unhealthy (but shared, haley and amber know) obsession with extraction.  as i told hays last night, "you know how in labyrinth ludo can call the rocks and they start rolling to him?  well, it was kind of like that."  she understood.  better than masturbation, folks (not the understanding, the facial).  the sound wave facial, also know as the "ultrasonic."  she recommended a toner and red tea oil, both of which are luxe and fun to use, and i woke up this morning with the complexion of a lil' peach - soft, dewy, and totally unfettered porcelain.  apparently, the upkeep requires treatments every week, but at $150 a pop (again, gift certificate, people), that will not be happening.

so i spent the rest of the rainy day eating saag paneer in my pajamas and received very entertaining texts from a 21 year old with a lip ring who was trying to woo me to go to a 'clothing optional' gig with him.  perhaps i'm wired wrong, but the idea of a clothing optional party actually makes me shudder, almost as much as sleeping with a 21 year old.  instead, i ignored said texts (they got unsolicitedly more racy the more i ignored.  you men.) in favor of watching 'beyond the sea' and 'the pianist' on ifc.  hi, adrian brody is gorgeous and talented (i want to run my hands all through his glossy hair and all over his pale face).  but don't watch that film unless you want to cry and be profoundly depressed.  oh, and i watched loads of 'keeping up appearances' which i fucking heart hardcore.  hyacinth bucket is pretty much the funniest character of all time.  it was the episode where her father was found cycling naked and fell in the river.  this calamity spoiled her candlelight supper.  genius.

this morning i woke to aforementioned peachy complexion and a still rainy day (see view from window).  naturally, a rainy day inspires creativity mixed with coziness.  whatever am i to do?  reflecting on the clothing optional party, i revisited my stash of actually very darling lingerie (but quite retired) and lounged around in various combinations like a madame.  such is a luxury afforded only (i'd assume) to those who live alone.  i felt positively vivienne westwood, which was nice because it put me back in touch with a time when i actually had a calculated sense of sensuality and detail.  now it's all making out in cabs, near nightclub bathrooms, or in elevators during work (i'm not complaining - that was a cool arrangement).  perhaps chicago will breathe new life into my frilly things.  i then got inspired to delve into stacks of magazines and cut and collage favorites and see how i can (in the spirit of economizing and paring down) replicate looks with my own closet.  pair this activity with swedish music (i'm loving "hitten" by those dancing days and the new radio dept. stuff) and some glowing cinnamon soy candles (i'm in love with them) and the day is perfect.

aw shucks

i called this afternoon to inquire after provolone and it seems that he's already been adopted.  drat!  but also great for him, because the less shelter pups in need of homes out there, the better.  of course, because i'm a bit superstitious and always on the lookout for signs (especially in an endeavor such as picking up and moving my life arbitrarily across country), i was a tad worried that this was a bad omen, but then i realized that i love all dogs and have the general ability to fall in love with most things (people, animals, the stinky coffee shop downstairs with stale pastries) if i talk myself into the idea.  so, it's all good in the hood.  i wonder if little provolone knows there are many blog entries about him!  he's so famous.

i've heard through the grapevine (though it hasn't been confirmed because the posting was just taken down yesterday), that i will get an interview for the assistant commissioner position.  if this is the case, i will do cartwheels.  how fun!  however, without sounding all boo hoo about stuff, i've redefined my version of what "success" in this endeavor will look like.  i used to think that if i went to chicago for a week and came back without a job, i'd be a real loser.  like i'd be embarrassed to admit to all of you fine people that after all the effort, pimping, applications, networking, phone calls, etc i've got nothing.  but, as a true believer in things unfolding as they ought to, i've redefined the notion of success to be more about taking this trip as the opportunity to scout out what feels right intuitively.  to have fun with wonderful new people that i've met and will reunite with.  the laugh a lot and challenge myself via interviews and feeling the rush of uncertainty.  if i come back to boston with no concrete job offer, sure, i'll need to reevaluate some decisions moving forward, but life goes on.  many people would remain complacent where they are, never deigning to wonder about or actualize a new life somewhere else.  have the guts to do that and breathe life into such a thing, with no traditional motivators (significant other, work made me move, etc) in place, i feel already very successful that i'm actually doing what life is meant for (not the whole meaning, but some of it) - to answer curiosity with action, to never stop dreaming about the possibilities.  to have adventures, even if they don't always pan out.  i know i won't stay in boston forever or even much longer, but how that transition comes to be, i can only do so much to persuade and steer.  with a piss poor economy and other factors beyond my control, all i can do is my best.

so, folks, after weeks of obsessing, i'm going to slow it down and let things unfold a bit.  sure, it'd be a mad, wonderful rush if things came to fruition the way i've been hoping, but it'd also be great to have things settle themselves in an unexpected, but satisfying way.  so, i'm throwing my cares to the wind (probably for just a day or two) and letting life take its course.  my purpose on the chicago visit will be to ascertain how the city feels to me and if i can see myself making an enjoyable life there.  my suspicion is that i overwhelmingly can, but overall, i'm going to enjoy and savor this exploration.  and perhaps still get a shelter dog.  

when you say it's going to happen now, when exactly do you mean?

hello, little sparrows! a brief update on the ratties - last i checked, the dead one is still stuck to the trap in the bowels of the basement (yuck) and the other one is nowhere to be found. i'm sure there will be a stench emanating from the walls sometime soon. blech.

this weekend actually saw me out of the house for a change, which is nice. friday night was spent in dutiful practice of frenzied job hunting. the chicago dept. of children and youth services (which is like a hybrid of child welfare, early education and care, and youth workforce development, ie. the most perfect fit of all time for me) recently posted an assistant commissioner position. i am working my connections to try to get an interview for that puppy. cross your legs (please, ladies) and whatever else that this works out. i have some interviews here and there, but i am beginning to get a bit nervous. my hope is that stuff will ramp up and start pouring in soon.

i tried to take my mind off the job hunt on saturday, when i made a leisurely breakfast (i'm loving the morningstar farms veggie sausage), tidied up a bit, and set out to the south end to visit the open studios. the stroll was amazing. i forgot how wonderful it is to be in a neighborhood not littered with students, piles of vomit, and empty red bull and lay's chips vessels just lying around. everywhere. instead, the taint of allston/brighton was replaced by pristine brownstones, pleasantly wild gardens, friendly shelter dogs, and kind and artsy folk. i had the loveliest random conversations with people in shops and the open market proved to be a treasure trove. not only did it feature over 60 artisans' wares (painted pottery, jewelry, handmade soaps, handbags), but there were two local farms selling a gorgeous array of the season's bounty. i scored a ring and matching earrings from a gal who went to risd (we bonded because apparently, we went to the same parties in college), an organic body oil (patchouli and orange = not the least bit hippieish, believe it or not), sigh-inducing produce (kale so deep green and thick, that i wanted to cry; heirloom tomatoes; white peaches; fingerling potatoes), and a baguette and farm made pesto, which i ate all of as i browsed the kiosks. the weather was cool and breezy and i felt ever so at peace with my scarf and my spoils. it was a wonderful day.

followed up by an evening of pub crawling in south boston, which is kind of like spending the day listening to classical music and then spending all night listening to NKOTB. the pub crawl was fun and we met many irish people with bad tempers, but big hearts. observe above.

on another note, when did east cambridge become the retirement community for men that i've dated? i had a lovely brunch at eric's yesterday (he called it modest, i called it fantastic) of chicken sausage, herbed greens, cantaloupe, and hi, the best grits i've ever had. oh, and lots of cafe bustelo, which truly is the only kind of coffee worth drinking. once i rolled up to his place, i saw a little squatty scrappy jack russel that looked familiar. "it's jackpot!" yes, it was jackpot, the dog that belongs to brian's gambling addict next door neighbor. brian and eric, incidentally, like 4 houses down from one another. and that's not the only coincidence - without going into detail, if you've ever loved me, i've loved you, or we've feigned such feelings in the drunken darkness, the probability that you live in east cambridge now is like 72%. if you expand that zone to cambridge, it's almost 90%. so wowza. thanks for the memories, cambridge boys. it's like that huge nashville retirement community for aging country stars, except you have the awesome distinction of saying you hit it with me. hooray.

now i am headed to get my run on and fantasize about coming home to a slobbery friend named provolone. mike had the fantastic idea to visit ole prov when i'm in chicago in a few weeks, so if anyone wants to join up to ascertain his character (provolone's, not mike's), please feel free. i mean, if i'm not going to leave chicago with a job, at least i'll leave it with another mouth to feed.