Thursday, December 15, 2011
White Christmas?
My relationship with snow has definitely been a roller coaster throughout the years. When I was little there was no better news than the weatherman predicting 6 to 8 inches of snow because that meant the possibility of a snow day. And when snow days did happen, when you were little it meant you could run over to your friends houses and build snow forts and have snowball fights until you couldn't feel your face. Then once I got my drivers' license, snow became a huge nuisance. I still remember driving 15 mph along Walled Lake trying not to go skidding into the water on my way to school. In college, snow still sucked. There were no snow days, even when it snowed over 10 inches. Walking to class in the snow was the worst. Cold toes, cold noses, cold ears just to sit boiling hot in class for 2 hours, then walk all the way back home. Now that I'm in Chicago and working 5 minutes from my front door, I welcome snow with open arms. I can't wait to see the city covered in it. Snow and I are back on good terms and I need a white Christmas. Make it happen, Mother Nature.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
New Years Rockin' Eve
So I know that I've blogged before about holidays hijacking other holidays and stealing their thunder, but since I don't celebrate Christmas anyway I'm gonna talk about New Years Eve. Plus it's like a week after Christmas so you really can't wait until afterwards to start planning. Alright, for me, New Years Eve has always sort of been an elusive holiday. I've never had an epic New Years. I've never really even had a decent New Years. I mean, I'm partly to blame for putting the holiday on a pedestal, but it still sucks that at age 23 I haven't been able to master NYE. Here's a recap of my last few New Years' just to give you an idea of the amount of failure I'm talking about. [Just a sidenote: I struggled for literally minutes trying to decide which year to use to refer to the past New Years Eves. I decided to use the year it was on Dec. 31, so this year's will be New Years 2011. I don't care if it's right, it's how it's gonna be.]
2010: I spent the night housesitting with a friend and her boyfriend while demolishing super strong Jello shots that I had made. My friend and I watched The Hangover while her boyfriend puked red Jello everywhere. So much fun.
2009: Went to a bar in East Lansing, and I'm pretty sure this was my first New Years as a 21 year old (We went to Harpers. Anyone who knows anything about EL knows this was my first mistake. Lame). Got hammered, danced, walked home alone. My friend and her boyfriend got in an epic fight and I had no idea because I was hammered and dancing and walking home alone. Whoops.
2008: Tried to have a "classy" party with hors d'oeuvres and cocktails, but a bunch of randoms showed up and brought Doritos and beer and I don't remember the ball dropping.
That's as far back as I can remember specific New Years occasions; the rest of them kind of blur together into a pile of New Years shit. This year is the game changer, though. My roommate and two of our friends are going to a fancy shmancy party at a hotel downtown and so help me God it's going to be amazing. As soon as I find a dress to wear...ugh.
--Okay, I do remember one amazing New Years Eve, so I think it's only fair in the spirit of balance to tell you about that one. Prepare to be blown away.
2010: I spent the night housesitting with a friend and her boyfriend while demolishing super strong Jello shots that I had made. My friend and I watched The Hangover while her boyfriend puked red Jello everywhere. So much fun.
2009: Went to a bar in East Lansing, and I'm pretty sure this was my first New Years as a 21 year old (We went to Harpers. Anyone who knows anything about EL knows this was my first mistake. Lame). Got hammered, danced, walked home alone. My friend and her boyfriend got in an epic fight and I had no idea because I was hammered and dancing and walking home alone. Whoops.
2008: Tried to have a "classy" party with hors d'oeuvres and cocktails, but a bunch of randoms showed up and brought Doritos and beer and I don't remember the ball dropping.
That's as far back as I can remember specific New Years occasions; the rest of them kind of blur together into a pile of New Years shit. This year is the game changer, though. My roommate and two of our friends are going to a fancy shmancy party at a hotel downtown and so help me God it's going to be amazing. As soon as I find a dress to wear...ugh.
--Okay, I do remember one amazing New Years Eve, so I think it's only fair in the spirit of balance to tell you about that one. Prepare to be blown away.
1998: I was 10 and I was with my mom, two of my friends and their parents. We went to a nice restaurant and I specifically remember having chocolate mousse for desert. I also specifically remember jamming to Will 2 K on the radio. We went to the movies and saw You've Got Mail, then went back to someone's house to watch the ball drop. For a 10-year-old that's as good as it gets.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
The Early December
It's officially December, which means it's time to watch Christmas movies and listen to Justin Bieber's Christmas cd on repeat. And, like all good Jews, I look forward to a Chinese food fest on Christmas day. The Christmas/holiday season (Don't get caught up in that, I don't get offended when people tell me Merry Christmas, you shouldn't get offended when people say Happy Holidays. Move on.) is, at least in the movies- which is what real life is based on, obviously- about love and stuff. However, my favorite things about winter have little to nothing to do with love and stuff. Okay, maybe peripherally because deep down I'm a hopeless romantic blah blah blah. December. Here's why it's awesome:
Snow. I didn't used to like it, but it never quite feels like winter until it snows and sticks. It's pretty and romantic and too much fun to play in. Now that I'm car-less snow doesn't seem like that much of an inconvenience anymore. Plus, Chicago in the winter is beeeautiful...when the snow doesn't shut the city down.
Pond hockey. Growing up there was a pond behind the houses down the street that we used to skate on. It was pretty shallow so it froze easily and if you were to fall through, which did happen a few times, you were only just above waist deep at worst. It was usually only someone's leg that went through the ice anyway. No biggie. Living in a high rise doesn't lend itself to pond hockey, but it's still something that makes winter awesome.
Hockey season. No explanation necessary.
Home Alone and Elf. The two best Christmas movies ever made. While I'm down to watch these any time of year, it's not considered obnoxious to watch them every day. Which I will. And I'll quote them both until you want to hit me but you won't because you know how awesome these movies are.
It's romantic. Period. From under the mistletoe kisses to the high expectation of the New Years Eve midnight kiss, there's so much kissing going on for cold and flu season. Something about the season makes people want to snuggle up and drink hot cocoa while watching football. Wait. That's not right...
December's just all around a great month, and I for one am glad it's finally here. Although I would like more time to find a New Years dress...31 days is definitely not enough.
Snow. I didn't used to like it, but it never quite feels like winter until it snows and sticks. It's pretty and romantic and too much fun to play in. Now that I'm car-less snow doesn't seem like that much of an inconvenience anymore. Plus, Chicago in the winter is beeeautiful...when the snow doesn't shut the city down.
Pond hockey. Growing up there was a pond behind the houses down the street that we used to skate on. It was pretty shallow so it froze easily and if you were to fall through, which did happen a few times, you were only just above waist deep at worst. It was usually only someone's leg that went through the ice anyway. No biggie. Living in a high rise doesn't lend itself to pond hockey, but it's still something that makes winter awesome.
Hockey season. No explanation necessary.
Home Alone and Elf. The two best Christmas movies ever made. While I'm down to watch these any time of year, it's not considered obnoxious to watch them every day. Which I will. And I'll quote them both until you want to hit me but you won't because you know how awesome these movies are.
It's romantic. Period. From under the mistletoe kisses to the high expectation of the New Years Eve midnight kiss, there's so much kissing going on for cold and flu season. Something about the season makes people want to snuggle up and drink hot cocoa while watching football. Wait. That's not right...
December's just all around a great month, and I for one am glad it's finally here. Although I would like more time to find a New Years dress...31 days is definitely not enough.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
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.
Friday, November 18, 2011
1000 Reasons I'm Probably Adopted
I mentioned writing a post on this subject in a previous post and I'm bored so I'm doing it. Don't worry, I won't list a thousand things...right now. For now I'll just list a few of the reasons I could not possibly be my mother's biological daughter.
1. She cries. At everything.
I'm not a crier. I don't like crying, I don't like seeing people cry, I don't know how to deal with people who are crying. I really only cry when I'm pissed, which makes me mad and makes me cry more. It's awful. I also tend to cry at Pixar movies. Anyway, my mom cries at anything even remotely sentimental or emotional. She cried while watching Kim Kardashian's wedding special for chrissakes.
2. She doesn't like Buddy's Pizza
Anyone who knows anything about me knows I am obsessed with Buddy's, a local pizza chain in Detroit. I could eat their antipasto salad and almost-deep-dish square pizza every single day. My mom hates it. She'd rather eat Domino's or, even worse, Little Caesar's. Gross.
3. She's not musically/rhythmically inclined at all.
She's the definition of tone deaf and she has two left feet. I'm not sure how she spawned my sister and I. We both spent years dancing, my sister's a great singer and I can kind of carry a tune (even though in my head I'm a love child of Adele and Mariah Carey) and my sister and I both pick up instruments pretty easily. My grandma sang in a band in the 40s (seriously.) so she claims it skipped a generation, but I think I'm just adopted.
Disclaimer: I love my mom. I'm not adopted, it's a fact. She reminds me every single year on my birthday that I made her a whale the summer of '88 and it was the hottest on record.
1. She cries. At everything.
I'm not a crier. I don't like crying, I don't like seeing people cry, I don't know how to deal with people who are crying. I really only cry when I'm pissed, which makes me mad and makes me cry more. It's awful. I also tend to cry at Pixar movies. Anyway, my mom cries at anything even remotely sentimental or emotional. She cried while watching Kim Kardashian's wedding special for chrissakes.
2. She doesn't like Buddy's Pizza
Anyone who knows anything about me knows I am obsessed with Buddy's, a local pizza chain in Detroit. I could eat their antipasto salad and almost-deep-dish square pizza every single day. My mom hates it. She'd rather eat Domino's or, even worse, Little Caesar's. Gross.
3. She's not musically/rhythmically inclined at all.
She's the definition of tone deaf and she has two left feet. I'm not sure how she spawned my sister and I. We both spent years dancing, my sister's a great singer and I can kind of carry a tune (even though in my head I'm a love child of Adele and Mariah Carey) and my sister and I both pick up instruments pretty easily. My grandma sang in a band in the 40s (seriously.) so she claims it skipped a generation, but I think I'm just adopted.
Disclaimer: I love my mom. I'm not adopted, it's a fact. She reminds me every single year on my birthday that I made her a whale the summer of '88 and it was the hottest on record.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Girl Code?
I hate Trending Topics. I hate them. Mostly because every time you click on them it's either something Bieber or Twilight related, or just some middle school nonsense that I'm too old to find funny. TTs are also a breeding ground for bad grammar and spelling. Today #girlcode was a TT. Joke's on you, Twitter. There's no such thing as girl code. Girls who think they prescribe to any sort of girl code absolutely do not. Girls are mean, vindictive and vicious and the worst part is they do it with a smile. I say "they" and not "we" because in my wild delusions I don't take part in this stupid, petty behavior. I have and I do, but I like to pretend I don't. Anyway, we may not all stick to any sort of girl code, but there is one phrase we all have said more than once. In this era of texting, tweeting, blogging, etc, so much is lost in digital translation. You've all said it, thought it, texted it to someone else:
Whether it's a boyfriend, a guy you like, a girlfriend or a frenemy (a word made up specifically for these "girl code" following a-holes), we've all overanalyzed a text or tweet. Looking for the connotation that fits our needs or convincing ourselves that it couldn't possibly be that, we read and re-read until all the words mean nothing, or until the next text comes in that needs analyzing. I hate this insane behavior. Even fully knowing it's insane, I'm doing it right now. Trying to figure out what the fuck anyone means by anything they say online is enough to make your head spin. But we'll keep doing it. Because we're girls and that's what we do.
What did he/she mean by that?
Whether it's a boyfriend, a guy you like, a girlfriend or a frenemy (a word made up specifically for these "girl code" following a-holes), we've all overanalyzed a text or tweet. Looking for the connotation that fits our needs or convincing ourselves that it couldn't possibly be that, we read and re-read until all the words mean nothing, or until the next text comes in that needs analyzing. I hate this insane behavior. Even fully knowing it's insane, I'm doing it right now. Trying to figure out what the fuck anyone means by anything they say online is enough to make your head spin. But we'll keep doing it. Because we're girls and that's what we do.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
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.
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.
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