Why Don’t You Just Tell Me Where You’re Actually From

I’m a city girl. Born and raised in downtown Chicago. There aren’t very many of us out there. I grew up in Lake View, on the corner of Broadway and Sheridan. That’s in walking distance of the Lincoln Park Zoo, Wrigley Field, North Avenue Beach and The Bagel!

Sure, you’ll meet a ton of people that say they’re from Chicago but then they’ll eventually fess about what suburb they’re from.

My freshman year of college a guy told me he was from Chicago. When I asked where? He responded, “Well, it’s not exactly in the city.” When I pursued the conversation, he confessed that he’s actually from Munster. Now folks, that’s in Indiana….not even the same state.

To be honest, I don’t really care where you’re from but I’d prefer a straight answer right off the bat.

After graduating from the University of Michigan I’ve lived in some pretty interesting places, well three to be exact: Rockford, Illinois. Greenville, North Carolina and now Deerfield, Illinois.

Since I get so annoyed by others that fib about their hometowns or current living situations, I try and be as honest about mine as possible. (In the midst of writing this I just remembered my current Facebook status reads Chicago, I’ve got to change that). I’ve been tempted to give an easier answer, since who in the world knows where Greenville is (Eastern Carolina baby! Go Pirates!!), but what fun would that be.

The Munster native totally blew it. Little did he know, I’ve got a grandma there and would have talked his hear off about it. Instead, I was frustrated and walked away.

I’m bored of meeting Chicagoians. I already know all about my city, now I want to know about yours!

My Impromptu CTA Date

I was headed home from a BBQ Saturday night when I decided I’d rather take a CTA bus home instead of a cab. Partly because it was about to pull up to the corner I was stationed at and partly because I had $1 to my name. When I mentioned this to the driver, he was kind enough to let me on for free.

I used to take Chicago public transportation all of the time. However, I’ve never hopped on at 1:30 a.m. I was shocked by how crowded it was and had to head to the back of the bus to find a seat.

Unlike the #36, which would have dropped me off a block away from my house, this bus started veering in another direction when it hit Diversey, so I got off. A young man, carrying a gigantic blue lawn chair, also got off.

We started walking, in the same direction, basically right next to each other. My obvious question was, “What’s with the lawn chair?” Mike was heading back from the Blues Festival, hence his large accessory.

A few blocks later I knew all the basics about Mike. His hometown, age, college, and job (I’m avoiding specifics if he ever happens upon my blog and kills me for including the details). So, when he asked if I’d like to grab a drink at a neighborhood bar, I decided to say yes. I’ve actually been trying to be more of a YES person lately and it’s working out well. He had to leave his lawn chair outside; it was too big for the bar.

Mike was nice, sweet, and respectful. When I mentioned I thought they were playing a Green Day song on the jukebox, he corrected me and said it was actually Oasis. But quickly added, the only reason he knew that was because Oasis is one of his favorite bands, second to U2.

When we walked out of the bar, Mike’s lawn chair was spread out. Someone had decided to grab a seat. I had to smile. That lawn chair got way more action than Mike was going to get that night. I said goodbye and walked home, laughing the entire time about my impromptu CTA date.

Why Does My Mom Love Me soooo Much?

I know everyone thinks they’ve got the best mom in the world but I think my mother takes the cake (which is ironic since she happens to own a bakery).

A few weeks ago, I was having a really rough day and my mom knew it. Work, boys, life, everything was just rubbing me the wrong way and I was a little down (which many of you know doesn't happen all that often). That’s when I got a call from my mom, which happens about everyday. After basically rushing her off the phone, she blurted out that she just had one thing to say.

I can’t remember the conversation word for word but she wanted to make sure I knew how great I was. I know that sounds silly and childish but it worked. How many people in this world actually think you’re great, like literally, the best person out there? Unfortunately, not many, probably your mom…and maybe your dad on a good day.

But my mom thinks I’m wonder woman and expects me to conquer the world.

For example, whenever I get into a fight with someone, she thinks I’m right (I love that). Whenever we see a cute guy walking down the street or in a restaurant, she mentions she saw him checking me out (no joke, she honestly thinks that). Whenever we’re watching the news together, she says I could do a better job reporting it. I could go on and on here but I’m assuming you get the gist.

I know you might be thinking that’s a bit much, but why? As you grow older, you have to deal with a lot of rejection. People constantly telling you no in one way or another. So, what’s so bad about someone who constantly SCREAMS yes.

I know it’s not Mother’s Day, but I also know I don’t say this enough either. Mom…I love you too.