Guess I'm catching up on putting my experiences to paper - rather, screen. But I've been occupied. Lacy and Jeff came to visit this past weekend, and I've spent the last couple of days recovering. We had a great time. At least I had a great time, and they either did or lied to make me feel good. I was just happy to be in their company, and to show them a little bit of my backyard. They had been here before and did most the touristy stuff then, so I tried to think of things to do that were a little more our style.
One thing I had on my list was a visit to the place that inspired the "cheeburger cheeburger" skit on Saturday Night Live. I ran across it while looking for burger joints. I knew it was a bonified dive from the reviews, but it was also one of those places you just have to go to say that you've been. It certainly lived up to it's reputation as a dive, and while we were there, a few kids came in and we got to hear the "cheeburger" line that made it famous. Actually, the goat made it famous, but that's another story.
We also road the L up to Wrigleyville, mainly to see Wrigley Field. The Cubs weren't in town so nothing was really going on - we just got to see it. From the outside. As we strolled by. Then we found a bar. Actually, Wrigleyville is like a college town - there is little else besides bars and smoke shops. Much like Lincoln Park, except Lincoln Park is the Fraternity Row of college town - slightly more yuppie.
Lacy and Jeff were here for 2 and a half days, and we really did nothing to write home about. We ate a lot - and some really good food. We drank accordingly. We walked miles and miles. We watched the Blackhawks sweep the Sharks (on TV, not in person) and got to pretend we were huge Blackhawks fans with everyone else. Oh, and Lacy saw Ron Howard when we were eating breakfast one day. Jeff and I missed it. Nothing big, nothing fancy, nothing at all really, but everything to me. I got to spend time with people I love dearly and miss as much. With half of my offspring. And I got to show them that I'm okay here. I don't know if that is any consolation to them, but it makes me feel better.
The only downside to their visit is that for the first time, I feel a little homesick.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Marshall's
Just got in from a "workout and tan" session which turned into a "spend $80 at Marshall's" session. I was actually trying to remember how far down Chipotle is (love love love) when suddenly, like a beacon from...below...was a Marshall's sign. Below, because you go down the escalator to get to it. Have to say not as good as the one back home, but I found just what I needed. And 2 dresses that I didn't need, but who cares?
I'm glad there are good stores and better stores and necessary stores (like Marshall's) nearby. Of course the "magnificent mile" is only 8 or 9 blocks, and I think Neiman-Marcus is on "my" corner, meaning it's a straight hike there and a straight hike back. Yay!
I only wish there were a bigger market nearby. Trader Joe's is about 7 blocks away - not too far, but once I get in there I want to buy more than I can easily carry back without ending up in a cab. And I refuse to take a cab 7 blocks. That would be like, well, like.......I can't think of anything to compare it to at home, because no one ever walks anywhere. Why walk when you can drive? And park? Without risking a cabbie running you over or being stuck in traffic for more time than you could have walked there anyway? Besides, it's just not as cool back home to walk around town as it is here. Unless you live in 5 points. :)
But, I digress. Marshall's. Marshall's is the kind of place that is completely low-class, in the way that people with money wouldn't DARE admit to shopping there, but do. Just a couple of steps above Wal-Mart - and you see some pretty good characters in Marshall's, too. But, you can put it in the middle of the city in the basement of a high-rise a block from Bloomingdales, and suddenly it becomes okay. Still messy, with tons of clothes from the Chadwick's catalog and the Wet Seal or whatever the teeny bopper store is, but location has brought it up out of the basement to a level of acceptable shopping.
After all, you can buy Cole Haan shoes there for only $99, and a Lucky purse for $80 (I know because I did it - the purse, not the shoes), or a completely trashy tee shirt for $7. And hell, to top it all off, you can pick up needed kitchen items or linens, along with simply irresistible knick-knacks that you're probably paying more for than you should, but it just looks so neat.
I am not ashamed to admit I shop at Marshall's. I've spent many a Saturday bonding with my daughter as we filtered through shirts and dresses and laughed at underwear and tried on shoes and spent a totally unreasonable amount of time (and money) perusing each aisle in the household goods section. Her husband will attest to that. Maybe it ain't Bloomingdale's, but it's a lot cheaper to bond at Marshall's - and a lot more fun.
I'm glad there are good stores and better stores and necessary stores (like Marshall's) nearby. Of course the "magnificent mile" is only 8 or 9 blocks, and I think Neiman-Marcus is on "my" corner, meaning it's a straight hike there and a straight hike back. Yay!
I only wish there were a bigger market nearby. Trader Joe's is about 7 blocks away - not too far, but once I get in there I want to buy more than I can easily carry back without ending up in a cab. And I refuse to take a cab 7 blocks. That would be like, well, like.......I can't think of anything to compare it to at home, because no one ever walks anywhere. Why walk when you can drive? And park? Without risking a cabbie running you over or being stuck in traffic for more time than you could have walked there anyway? Besides, it's just not as cool back home to walk around town as it is here. Unless you live in 5 points. :)
But, I digress. Marshall's. Marshall's is the kind of place that is completely low-class, in the way that people with money wouldn't DARE admit to shopping there, but do. Just a couple of steps above Wal-Mart - and you see some pretty good characters in Marshall's, too. But, you can put it in the middle of the city in the basement of a high-rise a block from Bloomingdales, and suddenly it becomes okay. Still messy, with tons of clothes from the Chadwick's catalog and the Wet Seal or whatever the teeny bopper store is, but location has brought it up out of the basement to a level of acceptable shopping.
After all, you can buy Cole Haan shoes there for only $99, and a Lucky purse for $80 (I know because I did it - the purse, not the shoes), or a completely trashy tee shirt for $7. And hell, to top it all off, you can pick up needed kitchen items or linens, along with simply irresistible knick-knacks that you're probably paying more for than you should, but it just looks so neat.
I am not ashamed to admit I shop at Marshall's. I've spent many a Saturday bonding with my daughter as we filtered through shirts and dresses and laughed at underwear and tried on shoes and spent a totally unreasonable amount of time (and money) perusing each aisle in the household goods section. Her husband will attest to that. Maybe it ain't Bloomingdale's, but it's a lot cheaper to bond at Marshall's - and a lot more fun.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
the ultimate street festival
I still can't believe this is my view - from my windows, from my balcony. Tonight is warm enough to have a glass of wine on the balcony. The city sounds and lights and smells are all around me and I am loving it. For a pure-bred country girl, I sure am taking to this mighty well.
There's a chocolate factory somewhere near enough that, when they're cooking up the cocoa, the sweet chocolate fragrance fills the air and makes you crave hot chocolate from scratch. I don't know if it's the Hershey place or something else, but it smells good. All I need is to mix some bacon with that stuff. HA!
The city on a night like this is the ultimate street festival. It's not a party, not crazy like that. It's just people everywhere, doing what they do, going wherever they're going, but everyone is happy and light and full of the sweetness of the night. Even sitting up on my balcony, I feel I'm a part of it all.
I know that the city isn't always a festival. Last night, a young Chicago police officer was shot and killed outside his parent's home. Not in the line of duty, just visiting, recently back from a tour of duty in Iraq and returning to his job on the force. Tried to stop some guys stealing his bike and was killed for it. That kind of thing happens here every day and brings you back to reality even on a night like this.
Still, I love being here, I love that I'm able to just walk out the door and do pretty much anything that I could imagine. And that I feel perfectly safe doing it. It's a good place to be on a night like this - the ultimate street festival every night. Somehow it feels like home.
There's a chocolate factory somewhere near enough that, when they're cooking up the cocoa, the sweet chocolate fragrance fills the air and makes you crave hot chocolate from scratch. I don't know if it's the Hershey place or something else, but it smells good. All I need is to mix some bacon with that stuff. HA!
The city on a night like this is the ultimate street festival. It's not a party, not crazy like that. It's just people everywhere, doing what they do, going wherever they're going, but everyone is happy and light and full of the sweetness of the night. Even sitting up on my balcony, I feel I'm a part of it all.
I know that the city isn't always a festival. Last night, a young Chicago police officer was shot and killed outside his parent's home. Not in the line of duty, just visiting, recently back from a tour of duty in Iraq and returning to his job on the force. Tried to stop some guys stealing his bike and was killed for it. That kind of thing happens here every day and brings you back to reality even on a night like this.
Still, I love being here, I love that I'm able to just walk out the door and do pretty much anything that I could imagine. And that I feel perfectly safe doing it. It's a good place to be on a night like this - the ultimate street festival every night. Somehow it feels like home.
Monday, May 17, 2010
river rat
It was a nice, not too cool, sunny Sunday and for the first time in a week, I wasn't coughing every time I took a breath, so a walk along the river seemed in order. It worked out great because I needed to go to a drug store (right on the way) and I'd been wanting to try Steve's Deli (right next to the drug store). My idea was to go all the way to the lake and take a picture of the ferris wheel to send to Syd. That was a pretty tall order (no pun intended) but no pressure - if I made it that far, okay, if not, okay.
After dropping off the 'scrips at the CVS, I ventured through the very large, very long shadow of the famous Merchandise Mart. Yep, it's a big'un. Across the bridge at Wells and along the river for a few blocks. Up until now I had stayed on the side of town I was most familiar with, which is to say within 3-4 blocks of Ontario. I've only been on the other side of the river once, and that was in a car, and I was driving, so seeing anything was impossible. Here, I had a view of everything up close and personal. The Trump building, the old bridges and statues, and the river itself. Actually the river isn't much to look at, especially compared to, say, the Tennessee, but it's kinda neat to see this pathway of water running right through the mixture of old and new buildings, big and small, short and tall, shiny and...not.
It was so charming I decided to take the steps down to the "Riverwalk" which ran between each bridge. Odd that no one else was really going that way - everyone stayed up on the street with the traffic and noise. What a peaceful little treat, walking closer to the water with the traffic up above and to watch the cars and trains and people traveling across the bridges high over the water. Now, I'm not sure of the reason there were not many people venturing down the steps and back up again, but I do know the reason I only did it once. The somewhat obscured corner at the bottom of the stairs heading back up to the street obviously makes a great spot to relieve oneself, were one so inclined to need to do so. Granted I didn't actually witness any such acts, but believe me, I know a good puddle o' pee when I smell one. And this one was quite rank. In fact, it was one of those things that, once it gets stuck in the nose hairs, it likes to make itself at home for a while. It took me walking briskly for about 3 blocks before I was able to breathe normally again.
Luckily, I happened upon a wonderfully eclectic shop to distract my senses for a few minutes. It was closed, but I could have stood at the windows and stared (and drooled) for hours. Well, at least for many minutes. The natural wood items were definitely to drool over. Nothing fancy - rather it was the simplicity of everything that made it so beautiful. Tim would love it. :)
Nevertheless, I did not make it to the lake, nor did I take any pictures. I just made my way back to CVS, picked up some comfort food at Steve's, tucked my venturing tail and went home. Sad, the way a puddle o' pee can just ruin a good intention.
After dropping off the 'scrips at the CVS, I ventured through the very large, very long shadow of the famous Merchandise Mart. Yep, it's a big'un. Across the bridge at Wells and along the river for a few blocks. Up until now I had stayed on the side of town I was most familiar with, which is to say within 3-4 blocks of Ontario. I've only been on the other side of the river once, and that was in a car, and I was driving, so seeing anything was impossible. Here, I had a view of everything up close and personal. The Trump building, the old bridges and statues, and the river itself. Actually the river isn't much to look at, especially compared to, say, the Tennessee, but it's kinda neat to see this pathway of water running right through the mixture of old and new buildings, big and small, short and tall, shiny and...not.
It was so charming I decided to take the steps down to the "Riverwalk" which ran between each bridge. Odd that no one else was really going that way - everyone stayed up on the street with the traffic and noise. What a peaceful little treat, walking closer to the water with the traffic up above and to watch the cars and trains and people traveling across the bridges high over the water. Now, I'm not sure of the reason there were not many people venturing down the steps and back up again, but I do know the reason I only did it once. The somewhat obscured corner at the bottom of the stairs heading back up to the street obviously makes a great spot to relieve oneself, were one so inclined to need to do so. Granted I didn't actually witness any such acts, but believe me, I know a good puddle o' pee when I smell one. And this one was quite rank. In fact, it was one of those things that, once it gets stuck in the nose hairs, it likes to make itself at home for a while. It took me walking briskly for about 3 blocks before I was able to breathe normally again.
Luckily, I happened upon a wonderfully eclectic shop to distract my senses for a few minutes. It was closed, but I could have stood at the windows and stared (and drooled) for hours. Well, at least for many minutes. The natural wood items were definitely to drool over. Nothing fancy - rather it was the simplicity of everything that made it so beautiful. Tim would love it. :)
Nevertheless, I did not make it to the lake, nor did I take any pictures. I just made my way back to CVS, picked up some comfort food at Steve's, tucked my venturing tail and went home. Sad, the way a puddle o' pee can just ruin a good intention.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
When I'm 64
Lena Horne died last week, and Sunday Morning ran an interview she did when she was 64. She had lost her husband of many years, along with her dad, when she was about the age I am now. Of course the question was asked "will you marry again?". Her response was much like mine would be now - I'm spoiled, I am set in my ways and don't want to have to change, and I wouldn't want to inflict that on anyone. Fact is, I can't imagine having someone around all the time infringing on my life and what I want to do. It's a headache. Not to mention heartache if you let it get to you.
More than one person made a comment about me going to the big city and finding a man. Okay, there are times that I think it would be nice to have someone around now and then, mainly to go to dinner with or a movie or share a thought or two. It concerns me, however, that some of my friends and family feel that I need someone to...what, complete me? take care of me? keep me from being lonely? to inflict my weirdness upon??
Certainly there are thousands upon thousands of single, straight, middle-aged men in a city like this - heck there were at least hundreds in Huntsville. That doesn't make it easy to find one that you just don't want to live without. Or that one that you don't mind living with. Until fate drops him in my lap or at my door, I'll continue to enjoy just doing whatever I want whenever I want without checking in with anyone else. I don't mind being the third or fifth or seventh wheel (or the oneth). I don't mind making myself complete. And if I'm fortunate enough to live to be 92 like Lena, and still have some part of my mind and body active, it will be okay if I'm still single and surrounded by a loving family of kids and grandkids and maybe even great grandkids and nieces and nephews and on and on. And if, in the meantime, some guy who is able to make me even more whole and complete than I already am shows up and sticks around, what the heck? That will be okay too.
More than one person made a comment about me going to the big city and finding a man. Okay, there are times that I think it would be nice to have someone around now and then, mainly to go to dinner with or a movie or share a thought or two. It concerns me, however, that some of my friends and family feel that I need someone to...what, complete me? take care of me? keep me from being lonely? to inflict my weirdness upon??
Certainly there are thousands upon thousands of single, straight, middle-aged men in a city like this - heck there were at least hundreds in Huntsville. That doesn't make it easy to find one that you just don't want to live without. Or that one that you don't mind living with. Until fate drops him in my lap or at my door, I'll continue to enjoy just doing whatever I want whenever I want without checking in with anyone else. I don't mind being the third or fifth or seventh wheel (or the oneth). I don't mind making myself complete. And if I'm fortunate enough to live to be 92 like Lena, and still have some part of my mind and body active, it will be okay if I'm still single and surrounded by a loving family of kids and grandkids and maybe even great grandkids and nieces and nephews and on and on. And if, in the meantime, some guy who is able to make me even more whole and complete than I already am shows up and sticks around, what the heck? That will be okay too.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
neighbors
When you live in a city of millions, you get some pretty odd neighbors. I don't mean the lady from New York who lives next door, or the couple with the big dog, or the guy who is hardly ever here, but is on the owner's board of directors. They're the normal neighbors - the folks you find anywhere, the ones you expect.
There are others, not entirely unexpected, but no less neighbors, like it or not. This weekend I decided to walk down to the "magnificent mile" of Michigan Ave to buy some shoes so I could walk some more and maybe do my booty some good at the same time. The goal was to find those trendy exercising-while-you-walk tennis shoes that look like someone stumped their toe while pouring the sole and overdid it a bit. What I ended up with was a pair of the more-than-twice-as-expensive specialty brand of the same type shoe which I found on sale at a bargain, which means I paid as much as I would have for the cheaper brand not on sale.
At any rate, the good thing about being able to walk to Michigan Ave is, well, being able to walk there. And home again. While enjoying the many sights and sounds and people and buildings and smells all along the way. The bad thing about it is the guy on the corner saying "don't you think you could help me with some breakfast", or the one walking up and down the sidewalk talking to himself (no, there was no bluetooth - I checked). Or the guy wrapped up in a sleeping bag in a recessed doorway which was on the north side of the street so he was in the sun (it was a bit cool). Homeless or vagrants, or beggars, or whatever they may be, they're not completely new to me, but I don't know that I will ever be able to comfortably ignore them. There's a sad repulsiveness about them so that I don't know whether I want to help them or kick them. And yes, they can be a little unnerving. Not really scary, but you just never know. And the guy in the sleeping bag? Could have been a zombie. I mean, it was just a shape - there was nothing human visible. Who knows?
The other neighbors, the ones that I didn't really expect, have wings. Anyone mentions city, you automatically think pigeons, but I've yet to see a pigeon in Chicago. Instead, I have a constant reminder of the gulf coast. At first I thought "what the heck is a seagull doing here?????", but then the duh moment happened and I remembered we actually are right next to a lake - actually more like a sea. In my life, however, seagulls have always meant sand, sun, waves, jellyfish, and Hawaiian Tropic.
I think it's neat, having seagulls instead of pigeons. Seagulls have personality and are graceful and slender. Pigeons strut around looking lost and fat and stupid. Not that I'm biased. I mean in a perfect world the city birds would be lovely songbirds or colorful toucans or magnificent eagles. Since this isn't a perfect world, I'll make do with the seagulls. As long as they keep their droppings out of my hair.
I guess the best I can do is learn to coexist peaceably with all neighbors, while keeping a slight guard up against droppings or crazies or zombies grabbing my ankles as I walk around the city in my new expensive even on sale booty shaping shoes.
There are others, not entirely unexpected, but no less neighbors, like it or not. This weekend I decided to walk down to the "magnificent mile" of Michigan Ave to buy some shoes so I could walk some more and maybe do my booty some good at the same time. The goal was to find those trendy exercising-while-you-walk tennis shoes that look like someone stumped their toe while pouring the sole and overdid it a bit. What I ended up with was a pair of the more-than-twice-as-expensive specialty brand of the same type shoe which I found on sale at a bargain, which means I paid as much as I would have for the cheaper brand not on sale.
At any rate, the good thing about being able to walk to Michigan Ave is, well, being able to walk there. And home again. While enjoying the many sights and sounds and people and buildings and smells all along the way. The bad thing about it is the guy on the corner saying "don't you think you could help me with some breakfast", or the one walking up and down the sidewalk talking to himself (no, there was no bluetooth - I checked). Or the guy wrapped up in a sleeping bag in a recessed doorway which was on the north side of the street so he was in the sun (it was a bit cool). Homeless or vagrants, or beggars, or whatever they may be, they're not completely new to me, but I don't know that I will ever be able to comfortably ignore them. There's a sad repulsiveness about them so that I don't know whether I want to help them or kick them. And yes, they can be a little unnerving. Not really scary, but you just never know. And the guy in the sleeping bag? Could have been a zombie. I mean, it was just a shape - there was nothing human visible. Who knows?
The other neighbors, the ones that I didn't really expect, have wings. Anyone mentions city, you automatically think pigeons, but I've yet to see a pigeon in Chicago. Instead, I have a constant reminder of the gulf coast. At first I thought "what the heck is a seagull doing here?????", but then the duh moment happened and I remembered we actually are right next to a lake - actually more like a sea. In my life, however, seagulls have always meant sand, sun, waves, jellyfish, and Hawaiian Tropic.
I think it's neat, having seagulls instead of pigeons. Seagulls have personality and are graceful and slender. Pigeons strut around looking lost and fat and stupid. Not that I'm biased. I mean in a perfect world the city birds would be lovely songbirds or colorful toucans or magnificent eagles. Since this isn't a perfect world, I'll make do with the seagulls. As long as they keep their droppings out of my hair.
I guess the best I can do is learn to coexist peaceably with all neighbors, while keeping a slight guard up against droppings or crazies or zombies grabbing my ankles as I walk around the city in my new expensive even on sale booty shaping shoes.
the snow globe
When I was here for a meeting in January, I bought my niece Sydney a snow globe for her birthday. It has a miniature abbreviated downtown with a few landmark buildings, and a ferris wheel representing Navy Pier. She loved it which made me happy. That's also when I told them that I might be moving to that place inside the snow globe.
Yesterday I told my sister-in-law, Vickie, that I wanted them to come up and she said Syd was ready to go. Syd told her that she wanted to go see Aunt Lynn because Aunt Lynn would know where that big ferris wheel is and would take her. Of course I would, and I would ride it with her (while her dad is on the ground tossing his cookies at the thought of being that up that high).
Syd is a hoot. She's always been pretty quick with the comeback, even though she's just turned 5. Vickie was washing her car and Syd said "mama, you're hot!!". Vickie said why thank you, Syd! "No mama, not hot like when a boy whistles at you, I mean you're SWEATING!"
I love the way kids brains work - my own two had some good one-liners when growing up. Come to think of it, they still do. Some day I need to write down the good ones that we always talk about - just in case someone would forget. The sad thing is that people lose that ability to be spontaneous and off-the-cuff and just say whatever comes out. The ones that hang onto it become Robin Williams. The rest of us have to bite our tongues lest we be thought completely off in the head. I never quite thought that would be a bad place to be, but we can't all become millionaires by saying whatever comes to mind. Still, not losing that ability entirely is partly why Syd and I can have so much fun together, and why my kids will never totally lose that kid inside of them. They really didn't stand an chance anyway; their dad is more off in the head than the rest of us put together. And not completely in a bad way.
Yesterday I told my sister-in-law, Vickie, that I wanted them to come up and she said Syd was ready to go. Syd told her that she wanted to go see Aunt Lynn because Aunt Lynn would know where that big ferris wheel is and would take her. Of course I would, and I would ride it with her (while her dad is on the ground tossing his cookies at the thought of being that up that high).
Syd is a hoot. She's always been pretty quick with the comeback, even though she's just turned 5. Vickie was washing her car and Syd said "mama, you're hot!!". Vickie said why thank you, Syd! "No mama, not hot like when a boy whistles at you, I mean you're SWEATING!"
I love the way kids brains work - my own two had some good one-liners when growing up. Come to think of it, they still do. Some day I need to write down the good ones that we always talk about - just in case someone would forget. The sad thing is that people lose that ability to be spontaneous and off-the-cuff and just say whatever comes out. The ones that hang onto it become Robin Williams. The rest of us have to bite our tongues lest we be thought completely off in the head. I never quite thought that would be a bad place to be, but we can't all become millionaires by saying whatever comes to mind. Still, not losing that ability entirely is partly why Syd and I can have so much fun together, and why my kids will never totally lose that kid inside of them. They really didn't stand an chance anyway; their dad is more off in the head than the rest of us put together. And not completely in a bad way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
