MIA

So I haven't blogged for almost exactly a month. It's weird because it's partly because nothing was going on that was worth blogging about and partly because I was too busy. Anyway, here's what you missed.

I got a job! It's just nannying, but for now it pays the bills.

I went to my first Blackhawks game! And it was quite possibly the best day of my life. I'm not exaggerating, it's definitely top 5. The best part is the tickets were fo free. I won them playing trivia with my roommate and her boyfriend. Not kidding. The seats were awesome, too. I could see Jonathan Toews' face so my life is pretty much complete.

I hung pictures! Okay, one picture. But it's the first thing I've hung with real nails since I put an Aladdin poster above my bed in 1994. Seriously. I might have commitment issues.

I'm getting a haircut! In two weeks. Just thought you might want to know.

I'm super in love with Chicago! It might be cold as fuck right now, but the more places I go in the city the happier I am that I live here. Except for the almost constant construction going on in my building lately. That can go the fuck away.


That just about catches you all up with what's going on with me. I promise not to wait a month before blogging again, but you should know I'm not great at keeping promises.


UPDATE: It didn't even cross my mind that this was the first post of 2012, so I have one more catch-up thing: I had an epic New Years Eve! I went to an amazing party at the Drake with some of my favorite people. No midnight kiss but I'm not even mad about it.

There, now you're all caught up.

Sweet Home Chicago

I've been trapped in the 'burbs for the long weekend. Over these last four agonizing days I've learned that I officially belong in a city, specifically Chicago. It's not even a contest, it's just not fair. The only thing that's better about the Hills than Chicago is the food I grew up eating is here. Oh, and my mom lives here but I talk to her on the phone. (Side note: My mom gets upset when I tell her I don't get homesick, but it's her own fault. She shipped me off to camp for weeks at a time starting when I was 6 or 7. By the time I was 8 I was going for a month straight.) Anyway, I'm beyond amped to get back to the city where it's loud and populated and I don't have to drive anywhere and things are open past 9 on a weeknight. Sure, in a couple months it's gonna dump snow and sometimes the el smells like pee, but that's just part of the charm.

Reppin' Some Hoods

Since I've been in Chicago 3 weekends now I've been out in a few different neighborhoods. Wrigleyville, South Loop, Lincoln Park/Lakeview, Wicker Park. Some were fun, some were not. Most of it was more about the occasion and the amount of alcohol that had been consumed rather than about the neighborhood itself. But I'm gonna judge them anyway.

Wicker Park- yuck.

Besides the fact that it's far as hell from where I live, I just flat out did not have a good time in Wicker Park. I had been up since 7 and was really not in the mood to go out, which highly contributed to my sucky time. The other main contributing factor was the shitty time we (my roommate and I) had getting home. Our plan was to take Blue to Red and be home in 30. 30 minutes later we were still on the Blue line platform on Damen waiting for the train while being annoyed to death by what we came to call glitter people- wannabe street musicians covered in glitter, dressed like gypsies and playing accordions, tambourines and bicycles. Yes, instead of using her drumsticks on the wooden platform, one of the female glitter people was using her bike as a drum kit. When we did finally get on the train the glitter people followed us and continued to "play music". To make matters worse, one stop later a herd of art school freshmen who hadn't showered in what smelled like months got on. After suffering jeers and dirty looks for being clean and put-together, my roommate and I got off the train 3 stops before we planned and cabbing home. To put it mildly, I don't plan on trekking to or from Wicker Park any time soon, except to go to Angels and Mariachis. That place is bomb.

South Loop- home sweet home.

Except for the Halloween incident (went to a bar and literally no one else was dressed up- embarrassing to say the least), the South Loop has been amazing. I haven't had a bad meal, drink, or time in my neighborhood. I also happen to live an elevator ride and 4 steps from a bar, which does not make me mad at all. Nothing bad to say, but I am a homer for my hood.

Lincoln Park/Lakeview- deeelicious

We stumbled- literally and figuratively- into a good time here. Jumping lines and cover and lucking into free bottle service adds up to an awesome night. If we hadn't fallen into such an awesome situation the bar we went to would have blown. But DMK is here, so I have to go back multiple times a week.

Wrigleyville- aka Bro-ville

Last but not least, this neighborhood is simultaneously the bane of my existence and everywhere I want to be. It reads like a college town, so it's awesome in that sense. I miss college more than anything and I'll jump at any chance to pretend I'm still at Rick's dancing to Party in the USA. On the other hand, it reads like a college town. Bros and douchebags are rampant, prowling for chicks to take back to their bro-cave and do whatever bros do. It absolutely depends on what kind of a night I'm looking for, but I really haven't had a bad time yet in Wrigleyville.


Bottom Line: Chicago rocks.

Sweet Home Chicago

If you tried to tell me I've only been in Chicago for 10 days I'd laugh in your face and tell you to learn how to count. Turns out that's exactly how long I've been here. I absolutely cannot believe it. It seems like I've lived here for at least a month. I don't know if that means that I've acclimated well to life in the Second City or that I have a terrible sense of time, but it's still mind-boggling. I have eaten deep-dish pizza (sorry, Chicago, but Buddy's beats Lou Malnati's hands down) and a few other Chicago-y things, but there are still a few quintessential Chicago things I haven't done yet that need to happen stat:

1. The Bean.

I've been to Chicago at least a dozen times and I've still never seen the thing. I'm not that mad about it, but I'd at least like to nonchalantly walk by just to say I have.

2. Blackhawks game

I went to a Red Wings-Blackhawks preseason game in Detroit and, through all the chirping and shit-talking, I had an amazing time. I'd love to not be yelled at through a game, so seeing the Blackhawks at home is definitely a priority.

3. Molly's Cupcakes

Maybe not quintessential, but I've heard so much about these goddamn cupcakes I think I need to have one like yesterday. 

There's a few other stupid things on my list, like running through O'Hare like the McAllisters and going to a celeb-chef restaurant (top of my list: Frontera). But for now those are the big 3.

Am I missing anything?

Finally.

I finally made it. The move is complete. After hours of procrastinating, 2 seasons of The League, an amazing dinner at Slow's and more procrastinating, I left Detroit and made the 4 1/2 hour trek to Chicago. I may not have a bed or any food (yet), but I moved and I'm here for the long term. For right now it still feels like I'm visiting. I mean, I've only been here for like 5 hours. I'm sure that when I mail my first rent check it'll feel more real. woof.

Procrastination is Fun

I cannot pack. It is physically impossible for me to pack at this moment. It's 6 pm and all I've done today is watch an entire season of The League (hilarious, by the way, I highly recommend it) and walk my dog. I'm moving to Chicago in 48 hours, people. I don't know why I have this anti-packing mentality, but it's really starting to get down to the wire. I think I just need to eat dinner, sit on Twitter and watch 3 more hours of The League and I'll be good to go...

I Am Not a Hoarder. I'm Okay (I Promise)

This blog is supposed to be about moving to Chicago, so I'm gonna get back to that for a second.

My move date is rapidly approaching and it seems like the closer it gets, the bigger the pile of shit I have to move gets. If you had asked me a few weeks ago if I was a hoarder or not I'd say abso-fucking-lutely not. Ask me again today. I'm totally a hoarder. I was going through my closet yesterday trying to figure out what can stay in Detroit and what must come with me to Chicago, but I got sidetracked when I found basically my entire K-12 life. Tests, homework, dance trophies, soccer trophies, t-ball pictures, works of art I made at Plaster Playhouse when I was 8, parting gifts from my high school senior all-night party. It was like a time capsule that I didn't even know I buried deep in the abyss that is my closet. Needless to say I spent about two hours looking at all this shit and didn't get an ounce of packing or laundry done. I started to wonder why I kept all of this random, pretty much meaningless stuff (I hate using that word, but I don't know how to better describe a box of barettes made from random household objects. Literally. I wish I had taken a picture of the Bazooka bubblegum barette.). Then I remembered who my mom is: the woman who has boxes of clothes from pre-1985 in our basement, the woman who has a cake topper she never used for her wedding and whose marriage ended in divorce 20 years ago, the woman who kept all of my baby teeth. That's like borderline psychotic behavior. I was instantly scared straight at the thought of simultaneously becoming my mother and a batshit crazy hoarder on a TLC reality show. 5 full garbage bags later I was officially purged of my pre-college self. It might take another few years before I can get rid of all of my MSU sideline passes and the My Chemical Romance poster from my freshman dorm room, but I'm taking baby steps.

Days left until I'm officially a Chicagoan: 9

Welcome to Chicago, Bitch

I had my first real big-city experience on Wednesday. I was in Chicago for a job interview (I know, it's exciting, but I don't want to talk about it and jinx it. I'm a superstitious sports fan. Let it go.) and I was trying to take the red line to Chicago (the street, not the city. duh.). We made it two stops without any drama, but then this girl gets on the train just to ruin my day. Literally. That had to be her purpose in life because she did it so well. We'll call her Bitch A. She gets on mumbling about something when the girl sitting directly across from me, Bitch B, takes offense and starts saying how Bitch A should watch her mouth and other stuff she should do. Bitch A is offended that Bitch B was offended, so, obviously, they need to punch each other. Bitch B did not want to be a part of said punching, so she called the police. Bitch A continued to threaten to end Bitch B's life in a terribly violent way, repeat that she is not afraid of the motherfucking police, and Bitch A's sister held her back from giving Bitch B the beatdown of her lifetime. At the next stop, we sat for what felt like eons and the conductor finally came to see what the fuss was about. By that time Bitch A and her sister had mysteriously left the train. This might all sound very innocent and not blog-worthy, but remember that this all took place about 2 feet from my face. No joke, I was in the splash zone. Welcome to Chicago, Bitch.

Moving Sucks/Is Awesome

This is going to be the one and only whiny, complainy post dedicated to why moving sucks, because it does. 99.9% of the time I'm amped out of my mind to be moving to Chicago. It's just the other .1% of the time that it absolutely blows, and here's why:

1. I have a teeny tiny car.

I drive a Honda Civic. It gets great gas mileage and for the most part it's an awesome car, but, as you all know, size matters. The trunk on this car is relatively big, but not nearly big enough for an interstate move. Luckily for me IKEA is doing a lot of the heavy lifting. As for the rest of my 23 years' worth of accumulated shit? That's on me and my baby Asian car.

2. I'm really bad at packing.

If you know me at all you already know that I always forget something big. I get really tied up in details, like remembering a specific pair of earrings or floss or the right pair of underwear for each dress I packed. Remembering all these little things prevents me from remembering big, important things, like my phone or tickets. Almost every time I'm responsible for remembering tickets to the concert/sporting event/anything I'm going to, I forget them. It's not even funny. I annoy myself when I do it yet I can't seem to not do it in the first place. Knowing that I do this even gives me anxiety that I'm going to do it, and you would think that would help me remember to do it. But no. Luckily I don't need tickets to move to Chicago, but I do need other stuff that I'm likely to forget. Like pants.

3. When it comes to driving long distances, I'm That Girl.

Normally, I try very hard in my everyday life not to be That Girl. You know That Girl. She overanalyzes texts from her boyfriend, she doesn't want to get dirt under her fingernails, she's a vegetarian this week because Kate Middleton is, etc. That Girl is also known for being extremely annyoing on long car rides, and that's exactly how I get. If it were up to me I'd never drive anywhere if it took longer than like two hours. I'll do it, and I've done it, but it's not cute. I get tired and antsy and my ass gets sore (insert That's What She Said joke here). Metro-Detroit to Chicago is about 4 hours and I'll be making the trip 3 times in 5 weeks. The only thing keeping me from going absolutely bonkers on the drive is knowing that in 2 weeks I'll never be forced to make the drive again. Until Thanksgiving. Fuck.

To counterbalance all the That Girl-esque whining, there are so many reasons why I'm pysched to be moving to Chicago. The actual list is longer than time, so here's a few randomly selected highlights:

1. Not living at home
2. Not living in the suburbs
3. Being able to watch every Blackhawks game
4. The improved possibility of running into Jonathan Toews
5. Not living at home
6. Being able to see Soldier Field and Lake Michigan from my living room
7. Not living at home
8. Bars. So many bars.
9. Boys. So many boys. Ones I didn't go to elementary school/high school/college with.
10. Jamba Juice

First Post, Extra Sauce

So I'm moving to Chicago and I decided to start a blog about it. Not really about physically moving, that would be one post: "Moving sucks when you drive a Honda Civic." This blog is going to be more about life in general, commenting on stuff, sports, CTA hilarity, etc. Before I start dazzling you all with my wit and humor, I feel like I should introduce myself. I don't know why, but it seems rude not to.

I'm 23, grew up in the suburbs of Detroit and, like I said, am in the process of moving to Chicago. In 2 weeks I'll be unemployed (by choice) which sort of sucks, but I'm working on it, I swear. I love love love sports. Baseball (Tigers), hockey (Blackhawks), football (Lions and Spartans), basketball (Bulls, Spartans), curling, (yeah, curling. I once skipped class in college to watch curling with my roommate but that might have had more to do with the hangover I had than the sport), pretty much anything I can root for I will.  If that makes me a "guys' girl" or "not girly," whatever. I also drink beer and laugh at bathroom humor. I'm a 15 year old boy. Sue me. I have a love/hate relationship with scary movies, and I could live on Ben & Jerry's Late Night Snack, bagels and pasta if it wouldn't make me 345 pounds. That's pretty much me, so...there's that.

Now that I've gotten through a little about who/what I am, here's what this blog won't be. This won't be a diary. I don't do anything that particularly interesting, so I won't bore you with the details of my life unless I like, make out with Patrick Kane at Sluggers or something. I won't talk about boy drama (mostly because it's nonexistent at the moment). I have a roommate, girlfriends, and my mom for that. And I definitely will try not to make annoying spelling mistakes. I know how to use their/they're, then/than, to/too/two and all of the other homonyms or homophones or whatever they are, I just can't remember what they're called.

So, that's what I'm about. Hope you stick around.

PS: Big ups to @MSUBlackSheep for inspiring the name of this blog. Go follow!