Who Else Out There Hates Public Restrooms?

I can't stand them. I absolutely hate the fact that someone else can hear me while I'm going to the bathroom. So, over the years I've had to go to extremes to work around my complex.

If I'm at home and someone is visiting me, I always leave the water running while I'm going to the bathroom. I know, it's a complete waste of H2O, but I'm crazy. I also scout out private stalls wherever I am. College was the easiest for that. While working downtown in Chicago one summer, I would literally leave my office building, walk to a hotel next door, take an escalator up to the 3rd floor and use a private restroom there...I kid you not.

You'd think that at the age of 27-years-old I'd just get over it by now. No way. If I'm going to the bathroom and someone walks in, I automatically get stage freight and have to wait until they leave. It's a painful process. I'm also the girl in the stall next to you that starts to laugh when someone farts. It's a horrible quality of mine.

These flaws are why I'm absolutely ecstatic about my new job. There's a private bathroom! I can do my business and not have to worry one bit about it.

The catch...I have absolutely no problem going to the bathroom around members of my immediate family (including mom, dad and brother). I'll leave the door WIDE open, chit chatting away, while I'm using the lou. It's a sick problem. Everyone else is a nightmare.

If you're still willing to be my friend after reading this, thank you. I just had to flush it all out there.

How’s A Girl Supposed to Lose 10 Pounds Around Here?

My new job is not conducive to healthy eating in anyway. I’m the new Director of Communication for District 113, which incorporates Highland Park and Deerfield high schools. No more reporting you ask?? I’ll get to that in another blog entry. Today, I want to focus on the food.

Everywhere I turn, there are treats. I came into work this morning and my boss had bought me a jelly donut. Are you crazy? I thought to myself. I don’t eat jelly donuts. I look at a jelly donut and gain weight.

About an hour later, I received an office email that someone had baked banana bread and it was sitting in the kitchen.

Around 11 a.m. I decided to brave the kitchen because I had to fill up my water bottle. Not only was the banana bread staring me in the face but a group of employees had just made fresh guacamole. I laughed out loud; this must be a joke, right?

I politely declined and made a quick getaway back to my office. For lunch, a co-worker asked if I wanted to hit up Taco Bell’s drive-thru. Nothing about the drive thru at Taco Bell is on my diet plan. Thankfully, I had brought my lunch.

Around 3 p.m. I attended a letter of intent signing at one of the high schools; of course there was cake. A big cake. That was screaming eat me. I passed on that too.

By the time I got home, I wanted to throw a party. I can’t believe I survived without cheating in anyway. But to think that I have to do it again tomorrow is just depressing.

It Felt Good To Be Young Again

I always loved game day at the University of Michigan (I graduated in 2006). But last weekend, I had to love game day as a trader.

I was visiting Iowa and had no other choice but to cheer on the Buckeyes (they played Northwestern Saturday night in Iowa City). So, I slipped on my friend's t-shirt and headed to the game. In preparation, I had a massive omelet and a biscuit for lunch.

On the way, we drove past this party bus that had burst into flames on the side of the highway. I never found out if anyone got hurt.

Then, I played bags (I lost horribly) and went to the bathroom in an out-house twice, which was surprisingly painless. That was followed by an hour of dancing on top of a deck that overlooked a house party, with a DJ and all. I mingled a lot there.

We sat 3rd row in the student section, ate chicken barbecue pizza for dinner, went to a couple of bars---I did some more dancing---and crashed on a stranger's couch.

All in all, it was glorious to act young again.

My Fam is Killing Me

I'm back to juicing...at least for three days.

Some of you might remember when I tried the Master Cleanse last year. It was several days of maple syrup, lemon juice and cayenne pepper. I hated it and I don't think it worked.

This is easier. Yesterday, I picked up my juices at Peeled on Sheffield in Chicago. I was given six, 16-oz containers of juice that I was supposed to drink all in one day. The price tag was a whopping $70. Yes, you read it right, $70/day for my detox cleanse. Well, at least that's supposed to be how it works. But, as you can see by the picture above, I barely made it through a third of the juice by the end of my first day, which was last night. So, lucky for me, I think the first day of juices will probably last for the entire three-day cleanse. Which is a lot more cost effective.

Last night I slept at my parents house and had to endure their dinner decision. While I sipped on juice, my brother and dad noshed on a Giordano's Pizza. If you know me, you'll also know that's my favorite. It was brutal. But I survived.

I'm on day two right now, let's see if I can make it to three!

Lesson Learned...

Have you ever gone to O'Hare thinking your flight was leaving from there and realized it was actually taking off from Midway?

I recently made that $75 mistake. Major bummer.

Thankfully, I still made my flight. Plus, was treated to a warm chocolate chip cookie while on board. Frontier Airlines is the way to go! Just remember, it only flies out of Midway.

What’s My Deal with Big Dogs?

My parents got me a Labrador when I was 9-years-old. I was supposed to get the puppy when I was 10. However, as soon as I turned eight, I asked for the pet every single night during dinner and eventually got a whole year knocked off (which was a big deal for someone who had only lived for eight).

A few days before I was supposed to pick out my puppy, my mom took me to FAO Schwartz. She had a plan. She showed me one of those massive stuffed animal dogs they used to sell; the ones with ears as big as your head and paws you could wrap yourself in. I instantly fell in love. I can still remember her conniving words at the store, “I’ll get you that stuffed animal,” she said while other wide-eyed kids walked by. “I’ll get you that stuffed animal right now, if you forget about the real puppy.”

This was a huge dilemma for me. I was 9. Do you know the type of impact life-size stuffed animals have on little girls? But I wasn’t going to fall for my mother’s trick. I wanted my Lab and I wanted her bad.

Harpo was a part of my family for 13-years and was the best thing that ever happened to my dad (I kid you not). She passed away the year after I graduated from college and we haven’t been able to consider another pet since.

Then I moved to North Carolina and met House. While working down south as a television news reporter I was constantly covering animal abuse stories and became extremely close with the director of Beaufort County Animal Control. One day she tipped me off about a raid they had made. About 60 animals were confiscated from a residence living in horrid conditions. She was calling to give me some information about the incident but also wanted to introduce me to someone.

House, was literally a house. He came up to my waste on all fours and probably weighed as much as I did. Just like that stuffed animal, I instantly fell in love. But House was never going to fit in my house. First, I didn't even live in a house, I had an apartment. Second, I worked crazy hours. Third, there’s no way I could afford the quantity of dog food that animal was going to inhale. Fourth, his poops would be massive to clean up. Fifth, do I even need a fifth after the fourth?

So, I gave House a giant hug and walked away, cursing myself the entire time.

However, I recently spotted a House look-a-like at an outdoor music concert in downtown Deerfield, IL and tried to make friends. He wasn’t as big and didn’t have as much charm but it was good to know that when I'm ready, other houses will be on the market.

Why I Love Living in Chicago

My air conditioning isn’t working, but that’s not why I love living in Chicago.

I woke up in the middle of the night sweating. I got out of my bed and pushed my sofa as close to the window air conditioning unit as I possibly could. (For those of you who don’t know, the Midwest is currently experiencing a heat wave. To make matters worse, I live in an extremely old coach house with one wall unit).

Besides being extremely noisy, I don’t think the thing was properly working. I tried to fall back to sleep for an hour but mostly just rolled from one side to the other. So, I left the sofa and got back into bed.

I woke up this morning and decided to ditch my 88-degree apartment. But where should I go? I landed on my parent’s much more lavish couch and got to work. Not only was the central air blasting, my dad took me to lunch and treated me to this delicious piece of watermelon afterwards.

That’s why I love living in Chicago again…or at least so close to my parents!

Mr. Deer and I had a talk today...

While he clearly isn't afraid of me, I politely tried to explain that he's in my parking space. After giving me a blank stare, he went back to lunch. So, I parked somewhere else.

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.

Top 5 Reasons I LOVED New Orleans

5. It's reasonably priced: I was shocked at how inexpensive New Orleans was. Than again one of my old college roomies paid for the hotel with points and I booked my ticket with miles. However, my expenses while there were minimal. It’s totally doable on a budget (which I’m not really on) but still enjoyed.

4. The bachelor parties: I had no idea New Orleans was the new it place for bachelor and bachelorette parties but quickly found out. I’m not kidding. More so bachelor parties though. We met a fun group of guys from Tennessee on Thursday night (the average age was 22 and they were all wearing overalls). We had drinks on Friday with a more mature crowd of 30-year-olds from Minneapolis (my favorites). We enjoyed watching another bus load of bachelors (except for one of course) strip down before our swamp air boat ride during the day and rounded out Saturday night dancing with a crowd from D.C. I loved every minute of it and that's probably why the trip was so cheap...I had to pay for a limited amount of drinks!

3. The nightlife: It’s never too early to go out in New Orleans and it’s never too late. I loved everything about my nightlife experiences. Bourbon Street was a hoot, the Tulane crowd was chill and Frenchman Street had some awesome blue grass music. My personal favorite was a karaoke bar called Cat’s Meow in the French Quarter. There’s something about an extremely drunk pregnant woman on stage singing YMCA. I know it’s sad but you just had to laugh. I sang, I danced and I enjoyed this coconut flavored shot that I kept drinking.

2. The food: If you’re not drinking, you’re eating. No joke and no vegetarians allowed, or at least on our reservation plan. Oysters, pork, baked oysters, grits, shrimp, crab, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, hollandaise sauce. I was literally in heaven and we didn’t skip a meal. Plus, snacks!

1. The people: Everyone is nice, everyone. From hotel employees to taxi drivers to bartenders to waiters to tour guides, it’s all about southern hospitality. Granted the city completely relies on tourists, I was delighted by the people. Not just nice but funny and entertaining. There was a New Orleans wit that I thoroughly enjoyed. Plus, everyone you meet is just so happy, because they’re all on vacation. It’s like Disney World for adults but with lots of alcohol and beads.

(This picture of me is standing outside a bar on Frenchman Street after enjoying some live music. It's blurry because the photographer was probably a little tipsy. However, that's to my advantage. I literally spilled something on myself during dinner every single night. Thursday I flipped a piece of lobster out of my hand and across the table while I was trying to crack the shell. Friday I slimmed my white dress with a gumbo sauce and Saturday I splattered this bright blue ensemble with a barbecue flavored shrimp. It was horribly embarrassing but somehow I got over it!).

$31.70 and rising

I’ve been at O’Hare International Airport for less then 60 minutes and so far I’ve spent $15.55 on a Chili’s salad and water. $12.04 on a packet of DayQuil tablets and $4.11 on a tall non-fat Chai from Starbucks.

That’s a grant total of almost $32.

The problem is half of my salad was still frozen so I just threw it out. The liquid gels haven’t started to work their magic yet and I still can’t get over the fact that my Chai was almost $1 more than it usually is.

I know that airports rip you off, I get it, they can, but it still pushes my buttons every time I swipe the credit card.

Oh, I’m headed to New Orleans for a weekend with the college roomies. I should have some better stories to tell along the way!

Clothing Swap Fun…Do it, Love it, Spread the Word!

On Saturday I was invited to a clothing swap party. That’s when you get together with a group of people and basically trade clothing.

I had never heard of one before but was instantly intrigued by the idea.

I was told to clean my closet and bring the pieces I no longer wore. I took it seriously and stacked my unwanted items into several bags.

This weekend, I headed to my friend’s apartment where five other girls had gathered.

At first I was a little apprehensive. Who is going to want my old crap? But honestly, it’s such a great idea. Like many others (I hope), I frequently fall victim to compulsive buying. Whether it’s a flattering mirror or great sale, what sometimes I consider banging in the dressing room, falls flat when I try it back on at home.

This way my chance to have other girls spice up their wardrobes with my failed purchases and try to do the same with theirs.

Plus, what could be better than shopping for free?

I made off with this red coat, a sweater and two dresses. And was overjoyed when the other girls rocked out some of my items I thought were a complete waste of money.

In the end, all of the “real” rejects were packed up again and donated to charity!

Looks Like I'll be Walking More...

I was at a gas station in Deerfield yesterday when a little boy spotted a soldier in a uniform and said, "The Army Rules." I looked at him, smiled and thought, "No Kid, You Rule!" Made my day. But then I was treated to this pain at the pump. Ruined my day.

Someone is Clearly Enjoying MY Birthday More Than Me

I stopped by my parent's house this afternoon to find someone snoozing the day away.

The very relaxed looking figure on the couch is my father. Who by the way, forgot to wish me a Happy Birthday when he called earlier this morning.

Instead, to celebrate my 27^th, he decided to take a load off in the middle of the afternoon.

It’s 2 p.m. I giggled while snapping this photo and waking him up. No way he’s sleeping on the job. I want my present, or at least I want to tell him what I want.

My birthday wish this year…to have it this easy when I turn 63.

No Top 10 For Me...Bummer

I’ve been cut from the CBS 2 Traffic Reporter Tryouts. The station is currently holding “American Idol” like auditions for its next morning anchor position and slowly weeding out Chicagoland contestants.

I made it to the semi-finals with 69 others last week. On Saturday, I visited CBS 2 downtown, took a written exam, and tried out. To be honest, I thought I did pretty well. I memorized the accidents I needed to report on, maneuvered around the green screen fairly accurately for my first time, and enjoyed conversing with the other main anchors. But I guess I’m not what CBS is looking for and I’m OK with that.

I’ve always regretted not applying to more colleges my senior year of high school. While I loved every minute at the University of Michigan, I wish I had also applied to some more reach schools. I don’t know what I was a afraid of and promised myself to never make that mistake again. Who cares that I didn't know a thing about traffic reporting before last week. I was going for it!

I think as we get older rejection gets easier. I rolled over this morning, checked my email, saw that I hadn’t made the cut, rolled back over, and went to sleep again.

I’m a good employee and a great person. I want my employer to want me as much as I want them.

So while I won’t be competing for a 3-month, $25,000 contract with CBS anymore, I wish all the other finalists good luck and am satisfied with what I took away from the experience…a whole lot more knowledge about Chicago’s major roadways!

If You Didn't Know, My Best Friend's Getting Married

I was half asleep when one of my oldest friends called me shrieking on the phone. I couldn’t really understand what she was saying but eventually got the gist. She’s ENGAGED!

Margot and I met during tennis pre-season before the start of our freshman year in high school. I was transferring from another school and she had just moved to Chicago from New York. I missed the first week of practice because of a family vacation and was extremely nervous when I showed up the second week. That first day, Margs and I were partnered together as double players, and have been best friends ever since.

I know I’m getting older, I realize I turn 27 in two weeks but I just can’t get a grip on the fact we’re at the marrying age...or at least Margot is.

I remember Margs and I passing notes in history class sophomore year and going on spring break together. We never missed a good high school party and helped throw each others. I remember our road trips to college in Ann Arbor and endless Cosi lunches. Plus, sneaking into nightclubs before we were of age and sweet-talking the bouncers. I remember when we each landed our first jobs and how proud we were of each other. We’ve celebrated raises ever since.

Now she’s engaged, with a beautiful ring on her finger and she’s ECSTATIC.

I think Margot and of course her fiancee are extremely lucky. He makes her glow and you can tell these two are right for each other. That doesn’t happen every day.

I think falling in love is a big deal, you’re giving yourself to another person in a way no one else can understand. It’s special, rare and something to cherish. But I’ve also learned, marriage isn’t only about love. As I grow older and a bit wiser (hopefully) I realize you’re also going to need someone you can rely on. Forget money, forget jobs, forget the rest of your family. At the end of the day, it’s you and this other person, day in and day out, making huge decisions together.

I think it’s so appropriately put in wedding vows, “for better or for worse,” because that’s literally what you’re promising. But isn’t that such a great promise to be able to make to someone? It’s definitely one I want to make some day and am overjoyed that my best friend has already found someone to make it to.

Semifinals Here I Come!

CONGRATULATIONS! That's the subject of an email I got in my inbox today.

As you all know I recently submitted a 30 second video for a morning traffic reporter position for CBS 2 (you can watch it a few entries down). The Chicago station is having an "American Idol" like tryout competition to fill its open position and I went for it. 3,000 candidates were recently narrowed down to 75 and your very own Natalie Kaplan was picked as one of the semifinalists.

On April 16 I head into CBS studios for a taped audition with the morning anchor team and then a written exam. The winner gets a three-month, $25,000 contract with the network. So, I better start memorizing my highways!

To say the least I'm excited...ok, I'm actually freaking out. When I moved home I promised myself I was going to explore all career opportunities. This is definitely a turn (hehe) in the right direction!

My Hiatus from Diet Coke

It’s refreshing, energizing, addicting and frankly…it’s still sitting in my refrigerator. But the DC and I are on a little break.

“You can’t be a social drinker,” a friend of mine told me about my bad habit the other day. She wasn’t talking about hard liquor but instead my consumption of Diet Coke and Pepsi.

I usually drink at least one a day but recently have been binging on two or more. Until now, I really didn’t care. I figured, I restrict myself from eating and drinking so many other things that a zero calorie treat was harmless. But I’m not so sure anymore.

So, while skiing in Colorado a couple of weeks ago I decided to go cold turkey. I told my family, “Don’t let me have a single sip.” My brother responded, “Wait, no more Diet Coke and rums?” That made me think. I’m not a big alcohol drinker but when I do go out, my beverage of choice is coke & rum (Diet Coke with a splash of Captain Morgan’s to be exact). “No, no more Diet Coke and rums,” I said.

It’s been two weeks and I’m still going strong, accept for a slip up last night. It was 9 p.m. and election results were just starting to come in. I was exhausted and it was going to be a long night of reporting. Plus, a can was staring me in the face. I drank it and while I’m confessing, I had two, the second at 2 a.m.

But I’m back on track today. Why? Because I already notice a difference. Maybe it’s just mind tricks but I honestly think my skin looks better, that’s probably because every time I used to have a pop I chug a bottle of water instead.

My goal is to make it to my birthday, that’s April 26. I figure it’s a start. My only problem is I don’t know what to order when I go out anymore. Any suggestions?

That's Right...

I just spent $38 on green toes and purple fingernails and couldn't be happier about it!

My Traveling Nightmares Continue….

My flight out of Aspen got cancelled around 2 p.m. today along with hundreds of others waiting at the airport. The runway was completely snowed in and my family couldn’t rebook again until 4 p.m. tomorrow.

It was a madhouse. But somehow, while my brother managed to snag four tickets on a flight out of Denver, I sprinted to the next terminal to get us ground transportation to Denver (it’s four hours away).

Thanks to several days of hardcore skiing I was able to move a bit quicker than I usually do and landed us tickets on a Grayline leaving in an hour, others weren’t so lucky.

That’s where I am now, on a bus that's weaving in and out of Colorado Mountains.

Hey, it could be worse...like the time I was stranded in Norfolk, Virginia and had to make it back to Greenville by myself. I just can't believe I've got Internet service, which is probably why I'm still smiling.

Forget Style, Strap on that Helmet

I took a major fall today, maybe the worst I’ve ever taken.

I had just finished a difficult run and was at the bottom of the mountain when my ski got caught, I’m still trying to figure out in what.

I was going pretty fast in slushier snow (my first mistake), so when one ski lodged, I was propelled forward, my other ski flew up, I did somewhat of a twist somersault in the air and crashed, my head smacking hard against the ground.

I laid there in shock for what felt like forever but was only a minute. My brother and a family friend were at my side in two seconds, they had watched the entire thing, and were worried.

I’m actually a pretty good skier and have been zipping down the slopes with the boys for the past few days, so it’s ironic that I crashed on flat ground at the bottom of the mountain. Others have taken some spills in much cooler places.

“Are you OK Nat, you hit your head really hard,” my brother nervously asked while I lay on the ground motionless and contorted. It took me a minute to respond and another minute for them to get me up.

All I can say is THANK GOD I was wearing a helmet. When I first got to Aspen, the guy who fit me for skis had to force me to rent one, he even gave it to me for free; I complained like a child for hours about having to wear it.

You have no idea how long it took me to pack cute ski outfits, I means it’s Snowmass, but after today, you won’t hear another peep out of me about that helmet…lesson definitely learned.

Two hours later, I've still got a little headache, feel weak in the knees when standing and look like I've just seen a ghost. I'll have to be more careful tomorrow.

CBS 2 Here I Come!

Last week a good friend of mine texted me and said I had to tryout for a morning traffic reporter position at CBS 2 in Chicago.

Ironically, I applied for a similar job more then two years ago before I landed an anchor position in North Carolina. About a week after moving to Greenville I received an email from human resources at CBS asking me to come in for an interview. It just wasn’t meant to be. I had relocated my entire life several states away and was seven days into my new gig, so I passed.

This time around things are a little different. Not only am I living in the Chicagoland area but I work from home, which makes for a pretty flexible schedule.

Right now CBS is having an “American Idol” like competition to fill its morning traffic reporter position. Just to fill you in, that shift’s from 3:30 a.m. to 10:30 a.m., brutal I know. But you can’t get very far as a journalist these days if you’re not willing to work some (or all) odd hours.

Tryouts consist of submitting a 30-second video on why you’re right for the job. That’s basically all you had to do. So, I did it.

75 candidates will make it past the first elimination round and will head into the studio for a proper interview. After a traffic test, contestants are narrowed down to ten and then it’s pretty much up to the viewers.

The winner receives a three-month contract with CBS for $25,000 with a possible extension. Not exactly the type of job security I’m looking for, so if I happen to beat all odds and dominate the competition, I’d want to keep my current position in addition to the new one. I’m not sure my sanity would be in tact at the end of the three months but I think it’s worth it. Plus, I’m really happy at Patch and wouldn’t want to give up my role there.

Why traffic? Why not, I say. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m going to be hired as a general assignment reporter by a Chicago TV station anytime soon. As much as I’d like to think I’d be an asset to any local network, it’s simply an extremely tough job to land without someone on the inside. So, here’s my attempt at getting in.

I also think I’d have a lot of fun with traffic. I’ve put in some major hours on the road in the past couple of years and don’t dread sitting behind the wheel anymore. I actually enjoy driving now and can see myself making others morning commutes a little bit more enjoyable too.

To see if I’ve got a shot, check out my video below. I’ll let you know if I even make it past the first round.

Sometimes It’s Fun to…Just Wing It

I was in Madison last weekend covering the protests at the capitol. My good friend that lives there was out of town but I still stayed at his apartment since it’s right on campus.

He suggested, after I finished my work, I go out with some of his friends instead of spending the night alone. I figured, I might as well make the most of my mini road trip.

Take note, I only knew one of these friends of his from visiting a couple of weeks ago, so I was basically walking in blind…but let me tell you, it was so much fun.

I think as we get older, we get stuck in our same group of friends and get comfortable doing the same types of things.

I headed to this Madison bar, spotted the one person I knew and flung myself into conversation with the four other guys he was with. I had no other choice, sink or swim baby.

It was great, no one complained about anyone else because we don't know the same people and no one talked about what’s going on at the office because we don’t work at the same place. The conversation was easy and light-hearted, knowing I could really say and do whatever I wanted because 1. These people don’t know me and 2. They’ll probable never see me again.

Four hours and six drinks later (I don’t know why I think I can still party like I used to) I headed home with a huge smile on my face and decided I’ve got to start winging it more often!

(The picture is me doing a reporter stand-up in front of the state capitol the day after I went out, let's just say it was a rough morning).

I Caught the Bird Feeder Red Handed

For weeks my dad has been complaining about a swarm of birds that have taken up house on our front lawn. It's like the bushes attract every flying creature in a five-mile radius.

While I don’t mind the addition, it drives him crazy and he’s been determined to catch the culprit that’s been feeding them. Thankfully, I ran into this person before he did.

I happen to be staying at my parent’s house this weekend and was on my way home from a shopping spree at CVS when I spotted a little old woman with a ridiculously large bag filled with bread standing in our driveway. From down the block I could see her breaking off chunks and tossing them by the handful into our front yard. I couldn’t help but start laughing.

My mom who happened to be walking next to me said, “So, are you going to say something?” Apparently she didn’t want to do the dirty work.

As I approached, this woman had absolutely no shame and was mid-toss when I asked, “Could you please stop feeding the birds?” She quickly replied, “Do you live here?”

“Actually I do,” I answered as well as every other bird in the neighborhood I thought to myself. “Is it bothering you?” she asked which caught me off guard since I’m thinking, lady, this is private property, back off, but instead I politely stated, “Well my parents happen to spend a ridiculously large amount of money and time on landscaping and since someone’s been feeding the birds here, Chicago’s wildlife has wreaked havoc on all of their efforts."

I felt a little guilty since she looked like she was enjoying herself but then realized we’re about two blocks away from a magnificent park and I can’t imagine the birds not following her and her bag of whole grain bread there.

A Crazy Day in Madison

The plan was to have a relaxing weekend with one of my friends in law school. Eat some good food, enjoy some drinks and have a few dance parties. But that all changed when tens of thousands of protesters stormed Wisconsin's capitol.

For a journalist, my little getaway was perfect timing.

We spent the afternoon wandering around downtown Madison, my favorite sign read, "Hey Scott, I wanted to screw my 4th grade teacher too."

The capitol building was packed from top to bottom with thousands of people chanting and cheering. This is one of the pictures I snapped on my tip toes looking down on the crowd.

Come on LaGuardia

For the past 48 hours I was in New York City for a work function and picked up one of those disposable razors you get for like $1 at CVS (which was great by the way).

While repacking to come back to Chicago, of course I was running late, so with a quick swoop, shuffled everything from the bathroom into my toiletries carry-on (including the razor and several of those shampoo/conditioner/body wash freebies...I love those too).

Let me first say I hate LaGuardia's airport. I've spent some time there and it always makes me nauseous. It probably has something to do with the fact I feel like I'm in an underground bunker, that's always 10 degrees too hot, especially for professionals in business suites.

I remembered that razor at the last second and thought about throwing it away but decided to be a little sneaky and see if I could make it through, I mean, I only used it once.

As usual, I sailed past security, I've usually got pretty good luck when it comes to that kind of stuff. The Indian woman standing in front of me wasn't as lucky. Instead of searching my bad ass with a razor knowingly inside my purse they picked on her and her "Henna for Hair" product. Which was shaken, flipped upside down and then just eventually opened.

I decided to keep moving but felt a little guilty about the situation so have decided to dedicate my next shave to that woman...I hope that doesn't sound creepy (I'll keep it rated PG).

How does one recover gracefully from a fall?

I was shooting this heart-shaped hamburger at a restaurant when I slipped on the wet floor, tried to catch myself, but instead totally wiped out.

I've actually had my fair share of spills: A miserable trip during a basketball game in high school when I rolled over the ball; A catastrophe during prom when I tumbled down the stairs in my beautiful full length gown; a messy accident when I got my high heel caught in a crack and plunged in front of a packed restaurant in Las Vegas.

However, I've never seriously injured myself during any of these drops and have to believe they've all built character. But I would like to know if there's a strategy for recovering from these embarrassments gracefully?

Oh Iowa...

I was at the beginning stages of a four hour drive to Iowa Friday night when my radio stopped working. It froze and so did I. I could not imagine 3 1/2 more hours of pure silence. My only distraction was a pitch black road; not exactly how I wanted to start my weekend.

But slowly things started to improve. I downloaded Pandora on my blackberry. I stopped at an oasis for a bag of Munchies (that amazing Doritos, Chitos, Sun Chips, and pretzel mix) and then I spotted something that really cheered me up. Iowa 80, the largest truck stop in the world...or so its neon jumbo sign claimed. It was the first time the whole trip I dropped my speed to 70 mph. I had to take it all in as quickly as I could since I was already running late.

I've been to my fair share of rest stops but I was shocked by Iowa 80's massive proportions. I didn't have time to actually pull in but the next time I'm headed to Cedar Rapids it's definitely going to be on the to-do list.

Flirting at the Psoriasis Clinic

I’ve had psoriasis my entire life. It’s not the worst case you’ve ever seen but is mostly enflamed around joints like my elbows, knees and ankles.

It’s something I’ve come to live with but constantly try and get rid of too.

I recently started going to the Mavena Clinic in Arlington Heights. It’s supposed to be one of the best treatment facilities in the world and since I’ve tried just about everything else, I thought it was worth a shot.

It’s basically a two-step process. I take a salt-water bath for 15 minutes and then am exposed to about a minute of UVB rays in a tanning bed. Showering before and after the cleanses.

It sounds relaxing at first but I’m supposed to do this at least twice a week for who knows how long and have come to pretty much dread my visits.

There usually isn’t anyone else at the clinic when I’m there, so I’ll admit I’m pretty lax when it comes to my physical appearance before and after the treatments.

But Monday was different.

After showering for the second time, I realized I forgot a brush so just combed through my knotted hair with my fingers and threw it up in a makeshift ponytail. I also just got a facial so my skin is still a little…how do I say this…fragile…and extremely blotchy. Therefore, I ditched any sort of makeup for a bit of lotion instead.

To be completely honest, I also forgot deodorant but decided my sweat-shirt and sweat-pants would fill the void. I jumped into my winter boots and headed for the door.

Unfortunately the nurse who usually checks me out in a timely fashion was dealing with another patient. I’m not exactly sure what type of treatment he’s signed up for but DAMN did he look way better than me.

Slick backed hair, radiant skin and a smile plastered across his face; I knew exactly what was going to happen next. It didn’t take this guy (who by the way was accompanied by his son) more then 60-seconds to start in with the 60-questions…but I did notice he wasn't wearing a ring (funny how I pick up on things like that now).

I’ve actually got a history of meeting people in interesting places. It’s like the big man upstairs gets a hardy laugh about my peculiar introductions.

“So how long have you been coming here?” psoriasis man asked.

“Since my last outbreak,” I thought about answering but instead replied, “a couple of weeks.”

“I swear by the treatment,” he added. “I’ve cleared up 100%. Sometimes I just want to run around naked because I feel so good about myself.” I’m not kidding, he actually said naked within the first two minutes.

I looked towards the nurse for some backup but she was trying to focus on everything but our conversation. That’s when I realized I was alone on this one.

Standing there soaking wet, still covered in salt residue, watching him comb every exposed body part of mine for a sign of my skin disease I tried to carry on a normal conversation.

God help this poor guy’s son who obviously wanted to be anywhere else than the waiting room at his father’s psoriasis clinic. So after he handed me his card and said to call him if I had any questions about the treatments I politely turned towards the front desk to make my next appointment.

“Dad, the lotion,” the little boy quietly whispered to his father about the $75 bottle he had forgotten on the counter during his conversation with me. “I don’t know what I would do without this guy,” he replied.

I called my mom later that day to tell her about my run in at the psoriasis clinic and do you know what my dad chimed in with? "At least you already have something in common."

My Break Up with Denver

I’ve always idealized Denver, Colorado. The mountains, clean air, healthy people and easy lifestyle. But I’ve never actually spent that much time there. So, when I got the chance to visit over the weekend I immediately booked my plane ticket.

A friend of mine was interviewing at a hospital so I accompanied her and took the opportunity to explore a town I thought I would absolutely love.

After flying in Thursday night, I woke up Friday morning eager to get going. I would say I kicked off the day with a five-mile walk around Denver’s outskirts. Then, after a bowl of seafood chowder I explored the city’s insides. The entire time I kept thinking…nice but not great, pretty but not beautiful, new but not charming.

Don’t get me wrong; there are a few great spots. Larimer Street is lined with little boutiques and spectacular restaurants that all have outdoor seating. We had dinner one night at Rioja and it was the best meal I’ve had in months. But that’s just one restaurant and one street. Then there’s 16^th Street Mall. Basically an outdoor shopping center with all your name brands. It was a fun walk but I was attacked by a Greenpeace activist who got upset with me because I wouldn’t give him my credit card information to sign up.

The upside was all the extremely attractive men. Ladies, if you’re interested in rock climbing, music playing, tall, broad and fresh-faced males, Denver is the place to be. They all look like they just jumped off the ski lift.

But that's not enough these days to make me want to move there. As soon as we left Denver, headed to Boulder, I was much more attracted to my surroundings. Colorado is an amazing beast with endless roads, mountain landscapes that will take your breath away and weather that’s way WAY better than Chicago.

Boulder just charmed the pants off of me. For some reason, I thought Denver was going to be a much larger Boulder. But it’s not there yet.

Would I visit again? Yes. Would I make it a vacation destination? Probably not. Do I think it’s got huge potential? Absolutely!

Once upon a time a bright eyed girl went to Las Vegas for NYE and...

1. Discovered she's better at Blackjack than craps.

2. Realized none of her clothing is scandalous enough.

3. Learned what costs $75 at a store goes for $650 at a nightclub.

4. Noticed her body will eventually say, wtf...stop.

5. Decided everyone needs a NYE in Sin City.

Happy 2011 everyone!