Pour some sugar on my doorstep

This scene greeted me at my doorstep early last week. Perhaps someone is trying to drop me a hint that I need to be more boisterous or energetic? Probably not.

Two sugar packets and a giant McDonald's soda

Umm…thanks?

Let’s become geekier

We spend the first quarter of our lives trying to fit in, doing the same things as our friends and wearing the same clothes. Yes, to blend in is to fit in.

It took me a while but I’ve realized that, the older we get, the more we celebrate our unique interests, tastes and styles. Unlike our childhood and teenage years, being geeky makes you stand out in good way. My junior high self would be so confused by this notion.

I have to remind myself all the time that living in a city with so many things to do and see, there’s no excuse for not being geeky about something. There are restaurants opening every week, classes for everything and every kind of show imaginable. And because there are so many budget-friendly options, there’s no reason not to take advantage of them.

In High Fidelity fashion, on my top 5 all-time things I’d like to write about if knowledge and vocabulary were not obstacles, music would be #2 (wine is #1, duh). I certainly would like to be geekier about music. I like listening to music, I’m a fan of attending shows but I don’t know much about the mechanics. Luckily, live shows are crazy accessible. My new goal is to attend any show that strikes my fancy and agrees with budget and schedule. (Shows through Ticketmaster need not apply). Empty Bottle happens to be within walking distance. Perfection.

Joe and I saw Girls at Empty Bottle last Thursday. Dominant Legs and Real Estate opened. I messed up on the time, so we arrived suppperrrrr early. Probably before the bands. I enjoyed Dominant Legs’ beats and catchy pop songs. However, watching someone sing to along with a keyboard is only so exciting.

Dominant Legs. The dude is also in Girls.

Real Estate. I enjoyed their music more online that in person. Joe disliked.

I actually came to the show to see Girls. Their songs are dreamy and pop-like, yet cynical. My usual complaint about Empty Bottle is that the music-to-vocal-sound-ratio is terrible. But Girls sounded crisp and true to form.

Girls

One of these days, I’ll learn how to upload .avi files. Until I become video savvy, I’ll work on becoming a music geek.

Oh…!

There are so many exciting things going on around me that I want to tell the internets about, but I have to wait. It’s killing me.

Right now, I will distract with something that has been on my mind. An internet version of hold music, if you will.

Let’s talk about this lil’ piece of graffiti that’s made an appearance all around West Town, Ukrainian Village and Wicker Park:

I feel silly asking this, but does anyone know:

1) What it means?

2) Who it’s coming from?

3) Am I dense for not knowing?

4) Why it hasn’t been subject to:

Mayor Dailey's Graffiti Busters

Please someone Nancy Drew this mystery for me.

K. Thanks.

Halloween leftovers

Oh, Halloween. The pumpkins, crisp leaves, crisp air and the chance to be someone else for a day. It’s my favorite fake holiday.

But after Halloween, it’s the day after Halloween. Just like the day after Christmas, the built-up excitement evaporates, and apparently, all that’s left is a lot of trash.

Orange boa in River North. Slutty pumpkin, perhaps?

Harry Potter or a witch left his or her broomstick in a cab.

Miss America lost her gloves.

The Devil went down to Wicker Park. And forgot his pitchfork.

Plan ahead for next year and snag this fairy costume at Damen and Division.

The day the music died

I just returned from the sun and sand.

But before I left, I couldn’t help but think there has been a strange sense of normalcy in the air lately. I’ve been confused by the lack of creepy pandas, 80s mannequins, naked mannequins or dueling Elvi around the neighborhood lately.

But.

The sight of this stopped me in my tracks a few weeks ago:

Is this your CD collection spilled on the sidewalk of Chicago and Franklin?

Let’s make up some hypotheses about how these CDs got there, shall we?

1. A jilted lover seeks revenge on her music-loving boyfriend by tossing his music collection to the street.
2. A belly dancer loses her performance set, running late for a show (the only legible CD said “Belly Dance Songs,” after all)
3. A teenager, desperate for a new CD collection, tosses his current rotation on the street, claiming it was “stolen.”

Cast your vote. While none of these hypotheses are exciting, I still am curious as to how they got there.

Rut, interrupted.

It’s hard to believe that, in a city where there as many things to do as people to do them, you can fall in a rut.

Even though it’s not winter, it feels possible.

Work. Mindless tasks. Sleep. Repeat.

I’m not sure if this is the case with you or not, but I’m not good at juggling. I’m the kind of person who throws all three balls in the air at once, focuses intently on one and lets the other two fall on the ground. I can only do one thing well at a time. Plus, the weather has been so gloomy lately, it makes me want to curl up on the couch and deplete my Netflix queue.

But.

It’s great to be reminded that everyday is not the same. This little strip of landscaping  between work and the gym helps me keep things in check.

Last spring, it was filled with tulips (I heart). The one renegade red tulip among its yellow counterparts kills me. Also, notice how sunny it is?

Petunias in the summer...still sunny.

Imagine the pleasant surprise when I was snapped out of repetitiveness a few days ago with:

Fall mums (I love).

The fall colors I crave so much: a splash of crimson and marigold to dilute the gray.

Also, I will be here on Sunday. That helps.

There you have it: rut, interrupted.

Circle the wagons

Just because I haven’t posted in more than two weeks (inexcusable) doesn’t mean I haven’t seen anything odd around my neighborhood.

Like this wagon hanging out by the Division Blue Line station a few days ago.  From its rusty wheels and paint-chipped, wooden exterior, you might think  someone left it here circa 1940.

Did the wagon run away from home and lose its courage once it saw the stairs?

Was the wagon a getaway vehicle for a renegade mother and her child on the run from the law?

The wagon certainly has a story, but it wouldn’t tell me. The wagon’s proximity to the stairs actually reminds me of a mischievous story my husband told me about himself and his brothers when they were kids. Apparently, Joe and his older brother talked his younger brother into being the guinea pig for riding down the stairs in a laundry basket.

I don’t recommend doing the same thing with the wagon. I can’t imagine it would end well.

Viva la summer!

Dear Chicago friends,

I’ve heard a lot of folks talking smack about summer lately.

As in, we really didn’t have one. I know…we’re all disoriented because we’re not sweltering in heat or suffocating in humidity. (In the famous words of that drugged-up kid from the dentist, “Is this real life?”)

However, you know, and I know, what is right around the corner. As a result, I am clinging on to summer for dear life. Here is how I know: A band was playing outside on the roofdeck right below my bedroom window last night. I wasn’t even mad. I was actually happy that summer made this possible.

Said band. Though only a two person band, I believe.

Since summer doesn’t officially end until September 21, I propose that we squeeze in more of this:

Because we’re just around the corner from:

Megan Boley dressed like an Eskimo.

Snow boots becoming a semi-permanent part of the wardrobe

Our favorite things blanketed in snow. Or make that just everything blanketed in snow...

...that eventually create potholes large enough to render you a missing person.

(Apologies for all the blurry iPhone photos)

Yard sale jackpot

Living in Lakeview, I had forgotten about the concept of yard sales. Because most people on the northside live in large apartment buildings, there is a lack of yards and garages. Hence, very few yard or garage sales. My unwanted items during this chapter either went to Salvation Army or to my mom’s for yard sale-ing. Thanks, Mom.

On the westside, most people live in three flats or tiny houses with yards, therefore, making yard sales possible. My friend Andrea and I actually hosted one a few months back. I managed to get rid of some stuff and make $50. Success! Since I failed to take photos that day, I stole these from Casey:

Hi. This is Andrea. Isn't she stylishly holding down the fort?

Joe discovered the liberating feeling afforded by a "yarn bra." And mostly napped.

There are yard sales over here EVERY weekend. I am intrigued by the range of advertising strategies:

Some employ modest, straightforward approaches.

Others use elaborate, artistically spray paint techniques. There were many versions of this flyer, each more colorful than the next.

Mannequins work for a select few. Yes, this neighborhood has a thing for mannequins.

I usually don’t hang out at the yard sales. I have the same aversion to them as I do stores like TJ Maxx or Loehmann’s. Love the concept, but lack the patience to dig to find what I want. However, I stumbled upon two today and hit the jackpot. All discovered items were actually things I needed or was in the market for.

A set of espresso cups and saucers. Aren't these adorable? I was informed by their former owner that they're actually intended for Turkish coffee. Same idea. I made some espresso immediately upon returning home. And washing.

These are better quality than the Forever 21 version they're replacing. Let's not lose these, too.

I've been eying these exact pair of gray Levi's at the Levi's store for a few months. These fit perfectly (such an anomaly) and were $67 cheaper! Deal of the century.

Since I failed to purchase clothing such as tank tops and summer dresses this season, I'm in quite the predicament for my upcoming trip to Cabo. Suddenly, not so bad.

The grand total for these treasures? $9! I might be a convert.

Just please have an intervention with me if I become a fan of “Yard Sales” on Facebook.

Friends do let friends drink and shop

I love grocery shopping.

This seems surprising considering that since I spent countless high school days and college vacations in a grocery store as your friendly, local check-out girl. As it turned out, I actually liked that job. The combination of food and shooting the shit suited me. Go figure.

So, you can imagine my elation when I discovered that the new Whole Foods in Lincoln Park combines three of my loves: food, shooting the shit and drinking wine. Yes, wine! I could honestly spend hours in this place. And my whole paycheck. Wait, I think I’ve done both.

Is this a wine bar, you ask? Why yes...I indulged in a flight of wine while doing this...

Grocery shopping. Featuring Joe's art direction and my blurry photographic style.

Did I mention you can pair a cheese flight with your wine flight at this wine bar within a supermarket?

I should mention that there’s also a coffee bar, a bar that serves beer and an incredible food court. Speaking of the food court…

Beyond the four salad bars, there's a sandwich shop, carving station, taqueria, drive-in type diner, Italian bistro and sushi bar. Just try to make a quick decision about dinner.

Now do you see why it’s easy to spend hours in this place? If I had the time and the cash, I’d spend every weekend in this organic mecca. It’s like dying and going to food and beverage heaven.