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.