my life in the city in pictures

In a thunderstorm earlier this summer, the tree in front of our house fell and totally blocked our staircase. I had to Rambo my way out to get to work in the morning.

You forget that somewhere in the Midwest can have a beach this nice. And yet, there it is. I defy you to look at Lake Michigan and not have at least a moment of thinking it's the ocean.

There were about a dozen of these tiny vintage cars parked all in a line downtown last week. No idea why.

Also in the "no idea why" category, someone threw these lovely flowers away in the garbage can outside my office building last week. Bad boyfriend trying to get back in good graces? I love that whoever threw them away did it bloom side up, though, so I could get a look.

Possibly the best dinner I've ever eaten...greek yogurt + honey + farmstand peaches, blueberries, and raspberries. Yummmm.

Shopping downtown, this couple holding hands made my heart melt.

I LOVE this series of ads for the aquarium. It really is magical.

I hear the train a-coming...

This evening on the train, I sat watching a dude who looked like The Sartorialist threw up all over him. I mean, seriously. With his fancy briefcase and his pants rolled just-so to reveal that he wasn't wearing any (visible) socks with his fancy shoes. Even the buttons on his blazer were fancy, in an understated Euro kind of way. I really expected him to get off the train and unlock a fancy retro bike to ride home on. But he was chewing this ENORMOUS piece of gum, and for whatever reason, I found myself unable to look away from him. It's awkward when you know you're staring and you just can't stop, you're only hoping not to get caught. I don't think Mr. Sartorialist noticed my staring--I was sitting far enough away.

I also played one of my favorite games in my head with him--the "which stop is this guy getting off at?" game. I lost today--big. I thought FOR SURE this guy was getting off at the hipsteriest stop on the line, two before my stop. When he didn't get off there (shocking!) I thought, okay, he must be a slightly poorer or grungier hipster than I thought--getting off two stops after mine. All that when, in fact, he got off at the same time I did. I couldn't believe it. I didn't see him after leaving the station, so he must have gone the other way. One of the things I love so much about this city is that I could see him again tomorrow afternoon, riding the train home. Or I could never see him again. Who knows.

summertime chi...it's the good life

Summertime in Chicago is borderline magical. People are PSYCHED about the fact that it's summer (I guess that's what happens when you spend 8 months of the year in hibernation). One of the best things about living here in the summer---aside from the weather, and the patios (so many patios), and the beaches---is that people want to come visit you, which means you get to do all the touristy things you wanted to do anyway under the guise of being a good host. PLUS, you get to see all kinds of people you love without having to go anywhere. Seriously. Awesome.

The hubs and I are fortunate enough to have a place big enough to put up a fair number of people comfortably, and over the next couple of months we're going to have a bunch of people in and out and I couldn't be more excited about it.

The other thing the summertime has meant is that it's nice enough for me to run outside. I say "run" and what I really mean is "old man shuffle." You know what I mean. Where you're not really walking, but you're also going so slowly old ladies with walkers could be passing you. Anyway, despite my ridiculous pace, I've been pretty consistent about it over the last month and a half or so, and honestly, feeling really good. When I stop working out, I always forget how much better I feel when I am working out consistently. It's like it's good for me or some shit.

It's going to be so sad when fall comes. Ah, well. For now: it's the good life.

home alone

Yesterday I walked a mile and a half (each way!) and paid $5 for two cupcakes and a glass of milk from this adorable establishment, Sweet Mandy B's. It has, I can say with total confidence, the most delicious cupcakes in the world. Actually, the cupcakes are good, but it's the frosting that haunts my dreams. I got one carrot cake and one red velvet--which is to say, double the cream cheese frosting, please. I sat on the bench out front and ate the carrot cake one and drank the milk and brought the red velvet back for after dinner. It. Was. Glorious.

But also, this post is about how pathetic I am when left to my own devices. The hubs skipped town to go run some absurd distance in some other city, and I stayed home alone. I watched disgusting amounts of HGTV and subsist on cupcakes and goldfish. I'm pretty damn lucky to have him around most of the time to be sure I don't die wearing my ugly sweatpants, surrounded by what appear to be the remnants of a first grader's birthday party.

getting to know you, getting to know all about you

One of the best things, but also the most overwhelming thing, about the move to a new, large city is that there's so much to do. I've bought both new copies of Time Out since we've been here, and read a few guidebooks and whatnot (because that's the kind of nerd I am) but basically haven't done anything of real interest. It turns out getting to know a city just takes time. I try to remind myself that the first time I moved away from home, to a mid-size city, it took me nearly a year to really figure the city out. To get a favorite burger place. To know the best Thursday night happy hour. To know how long it ought to take you to get from point A to point B. To have a place to take parents in town. To have a place to take broke, arty friends in town. To understand where the hell the freeway loop crosses the freeway. And that city was about 1/5 the size of Chicago. Sigh.

Part of why I think it's taking me longer this time around is because a lot of what there is to do here is actually....go to this place and eat. Go to this other place and drink. And while, lord knows, those are two of my most favorite activities, they're also bad for my health and my wallet. We have thus far been really good about cooking delicious and more or less healthy meals at home, and so I haven't been out to a ton of good places yet. Maybe when I'm working and thus have the cashflow to go out and no time to cook?


I actually cooked this. I did not take this photo, though. (Though mine did look about as good.) Photo and recipe courtesy Pioneer Woman.

Another part of why it's taking me longer than it feels like it ought to is because it's cold. I mean, like I said before, it's not yet inhumanly cold-cold. Still, 30 degrees makes it unpleasant to just stroll around the neighborhood for a few hours, which I was able to do when I lived here for 3 months two summers ago. Somehow it feels like I knew the city a lot better then...where did all that knowledge go?

Ugh, in the middle of writing this, I got another call from an Unknown number, which I (who knows why) answered. I am 90% convinced whomever had this number before me was a drug dealer, and 100%convinced that, even if he wasn't, he was into some kind of shady business. I will be sooo glad when people finally get the message that BUDDY NO LONGER HAS THIS NUMBER. (Seriously, Buddy?? Does it get more stereotypical than that?)