Apartment of death

Tonight, it rained it Chicago and everyone forgot how to drive.

I don't know why. I don't make the rules.

After sitting in traffic for about an hour, I finally got home to my apartment. As I walked up the back stairs, I heard a faint beeping...

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP...BEEP-BEEP-BEEP...

That's not coming from my place, is it? I thought.

Okay, it definitely is.

I threw my key into the lock and pried it open (janky old door), wondering just how long the beeping had been going on and how bat-shit-crazy-insane Rocco probably was after hearing it nonstop.

That's when I realized it was my carbon monoxide detector.

And my place smelled like gasoline.

OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING TO DIE.

In one fluid motion -- that's what it felt like, but I bet I looked more like an epileptic on meth -- I grabbed Rocco by the collar, swiped his leash from the couch and hauled ass outside.

Standing in the rain, I frantically called Dave and told him about how our apartment had turned into a beeping deathtrap. He told me that carbon monoxide doesn't smell and that I needed to call our neighbors to tell them what was going on. I demanded that he come home immediately and marched upstairs with my confused dog. We hug out with our cool neighbors while trying to describe what that smell was. Gasoline? Poisonous gas? GASOLINE? Totally gasoline.

We also brainstormed the source of the problem -- no question there. It was our "handyman." He sets up shop in our basement and makes random shit for our landlord. The latest project has been a pair of doors. Whatever.

Anyway, Tony soon decided I should go downstairs and open the windows while Lindsay decided she would call our landlord and give him a piece of her mind. I did, and also took a time out to put on some sweatpants and grab a few beers because, duh.

By the time Dave came home, our place didn't smell as bad and he decided it was safe to head back down to our floor. Also, he determined that the weird smell was clearly spray paint that our "handyman" had been using on the doors he was building.

So here we are.

The apartment's been aired out, I don't think I'm high and our dinner just arrived. All is right with the world, but just in case we don't wake up tomorrow, it's been nice knowing you.

Renegade

Renegade Craft Fair has its pluses. It's close enough for me to walk to, it takes place during a glorious time in Chicago and it even has some cute things for sale.

But it's also overrun with hipsters, some handmade trash and high price tags, and THAT is super-annoying.

So when I see posts like this (Missed Connections), I can't help but smile.

Hide yo' kids, hide yo' iPods

J recently had a break-in to her apartment. Thankfully, she wasn't there when it happened, but good lord that's freaky. Someone else. In your home. Taking your stuff. I kind of wanted to move her into my second bedroom for a while, but anyone who knows her knows that the offer would be met with a genuine smile and a "no thanks, you're being insane" eye roll.

Even though I've been locking all the doors I can possibly find ever since I heard this news, I don't think anyone would have an easy time getting into my particular apartment because of my gigantic dog...

As much of a lover as he is, he sounds like he could do some serious damage to your bones if he hears you outside.

Like my own little murdering alarm system.

But I realized something this morning.

If we ever buy a house -- like, with more than one story -- he'd let anyone in, as long as they break into a floor that he is not on.

Burglars above us, on the roof? "No biggie," he'd think.

Thieves below us, in the basement? "They probably belong there."

Roly-poly kleptos stealing all the food from the kitchen (while Roc rests in MY bed upstairs)? "I wonder if they'll drop anything for me..."

FAIL DOG.

(Yet another reason not to buy a single-family place.)

Anyway, stay safe out there, people. Lock your doors, lock your windows and let me know if you ever need to borrow The Roc.

Summer Updates

Well, it's summer. Bring on the beaches, beer gardens and barbecues. Chicago is an incredible city to live in during these few months, so I plan to take full advantage.

But, before we get to that, there are a few updates I should toss out here...

Goodbye to Oprah

While America said goodbye to their favorite afternoon talk show, I said goodbye to my beloved job. Working on the show was, by far, the greatest job I could have asked for. But, it's time to move on for many of us and I don't think there's a single person on staff who could say they were 100% happy to walk away from this job, these coworkers and this company. (Though, let me say, OW throws one hell of a farewell party.)

My dept -- best people ever.

Hello to Retirement

Where do you go from Oprah? I'm thinking the president...or retirement. You know, go out on a high note. I'm exploring both options right now but if there's ever a time to retire, it's Chicago in the summer. Plus, "retirement" sounds way better than "unemployment." This summer's retirement plans include:

• A trip to the West Coast to see a few friends like Billy, Joe and Dave's cousin.
• Many days spent at my fav beach -- Ohio Street. (Perhaps the only douche-free beach in the city.)
• Exercise. I'm less enthused about this, but it stays on the list.
• A drive to Memphis with the pup(s) to see my folks and all the new shit they're doing to their house.
• Our family vacation to Virginia Beach with my fam, my aunt/uncle and Dave's fam.
• Sleeping in, playing Call of Duty and drinking summery things like Vodka-Lemonades.

Welcoming Margie/Bella/Stella/Roger
Since Dave and I are both free from work this summer, we thought now would be the best time to bring another little furball into our home. So, we had Rocco meet his potential sister about a week ago and they adored each other! Her name is Margie but she responds to Bella, so we were hoping to keep a similar-sounding name. We're thinking "Stella," but my brother has already decided he will be calling her "Roger."

Now we'll be fostering her for two weeks starting on the 13th to see if she'll be a good fit in our home. If she's not, well, then we're never meant to get a second dog because this one is just awesome.

Aaaaand that's it! It's only June 6, but it's already shaping up to be a month of big changes... Hopefully all good.

Another difference between the North and South

...High School Reunion Edition.


NORTH
My mom's 10-year high school reunion was held at a nightclub in Manhattan.

SOUTH
My 10-year high school reunion will be a family picnic in the middle of the afternoon.


There best be booze, otherwise Jessi, Molly and I are going to look like a bunch of drunk, child-less assholes.

Renters 4 life

This is what $730k would buy me in Cleveland:

It even has its own tennis court. TENNIS COURT.

This is what $730k would buy me in Chicago:
That, my friends, is why it's unlikely that I will be a homeowner as long as I live in this beautiful, beautiful city. I love it so, but... damn.

Miss Independent

Me:

ALEX

Alex:

ya whatup

Me:

I parallel parked

Alex:

WHOA

WHOA

WHOA

WHOA

Me:

I KNOW

All by myself

1 try

Alex:

HOW MANY THINGS DID YOU HIT

Me:

NONE

Alex:

WHO DID YOU KILL

Me:

NO ONE

Alex:

I AM CHECKING CHICAGOBREAKINGNEWS.COM RIGHT NOW

Me:

I hate you

Sweet skills:

Okay, so it was a massive space. Baby steps.

West side, represent

Chicago L Shirts

[via]

Beer me.

When I lived in St. Louis, there was only one beer to drink: Bud Light.

Sure, other beers technically existed, but in the Land of Budweiser Brewery, that's all you order. So, when I moved to Chicago several years ago (Jesus Christ, has it been years already?), I was all set to be the small-town girl drinking the St. Louis classic.

...Until I realized that NO ONE drinks Bud Light here. No one. No Bud-anything, actually. Seriously, I feel like ordering a Bug Light in Chicago is like screaming I'M NOT FROM HERE, Y'ALL. And you know how I feel about tourists -- the last thing I want is to be grouped with them. Gew.

Sooo, it was time to move on to different beers. I haven't branched out too much from my lighter, wimpier tastes, but thanks to the variety in, uh, every single bar, I don't have to. These are a few of my favs:

• Bell's Oberon
• Allagash White
• Goose Island 312
• Honker's Ale
• Magic Hat No. 9
• Shock Top
• Magner's
• Blue Moon
• Peroni
• Leinenkugel Sunset Wheat

What else should I try?

My dad

My dad, who is visiting soon with Mom, got a smart phone recently and it's been HILARIOUS.

Case in point:



(And you wonder why I'm like this.)

Moments after this text, he calls me. As we're talking through next weekend's plans, I get a beep. Call waiting.

Hmm.

I check to see who's beeping in and it's.... MY DAD.

"Dad, what the shit are you doing?"

Nothing.

"Hello? Dad?"

Nothing.

So, I click over to the other call.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you DOING?"

"I don't know! I'm just sitting outside, minding my own business. This damn thing has too many buttons. I think I'm pressing them by accident."

It frightens me that this is only the beginning...

National Food Blogger Bake Sale

Ha. I bet you thought I was going to bake something.

Actually... no, you know me better than that.

Even though I try to stay out of the kitchen these days, I still love me some baked goods. Oh, and charities. That's why I wanted to tell you about this:

National Food Blogger Bake Sale
Saturday, April 17
12pm-3pm CST
Smash Cake Bakery
2961 N. Lincoln Ave. (at Wellington)
Proceeds to benefit Share Our Strength

This thing is actually taking place across the country, so if you're not in Chicago, click here to see where your local blogger bake sale will be.

One of my favorite foodies, Maris from In Good Taste, is hosting the Chicago bake sale, so if you want to get involved in any way -- baking, helping set up the sale, sending out a media release, stuffing your face with goodies -- just shoot her an email: mariscallahan [at] gmail [dot] com.

Chicago's Food Fight for Scleroderma

Sunday, April 18


3 chefs. 30 minutes. 1 winner

Three top Chicago chefs go head-to-head in a live culinary battle!
Watch the showdown, sample the food and vote for your favorite.
More info


Chopping Block @ The Merchandise Mart

5pm - 8pm

Tickets are $45.00

Benefits the Scleroderma Foundation

GET TICKETS NOW

Moving day is approaching

It's finally happening: I'm moving into a two-bedroom apartment.

Um, this weekend actually. (I'd better start packing.)

New apartment, new neighborhood, new possibilities -- it's all very exciting! Here's a video Dave took when we fell in love with it:

Our apartment person says there's only 1 bathroom, but there are in fact 2.

For as much as I complain about it, the place I live right now isn't really that terrible. It's a River North highrise, so take that how you will.


Things I'll miss about my current apartment

• The gorgeous view off our 51st floor balcony
• The large bathroom
  
• The large bedroom
• Picking up my packages at the cleaners in the building
• Sitting at the kitchen island while Dave cooks
• The convenience of being in River North
• Being able to take one of two express buses right up to my brother's
• The pool

Things I will NOT miss about my current apartment

• The River North tourists
• The River North attitude problem
  
• Wandering onto the Red Line only to end up in the thick of drunken Cubs fans
• Waiting for 10 minutes just to get an elevator that goes to my floor
• A super-tiny living room
• Tons and tons of spiders/bugs on the windows
• The hotel rooms across the hall, complete with loud visitors
• The douchebags at the pool
• The lure of Whole Foods

Things I'm looking forward to about my new place:

• TWO BEDROOMS
• A neighborhood with trees (and Suz)
• Easy access to Mana (and J)
  
• Room for a dining room table and therefore dinner parties
• A built-in wine rack in the kitchen
• An entire laundry room
• A fireplace
• Pizza delivery from Piece
  

Move-in date is Sunday. Let's hope this apartment ends Dave's 10-year moving streak.

Don't let this happen to you

Dave and I went to dinner last night farther north on the Brown Line, at the Western stop. We went with our fabulous wedding photographer and his girlfriend, so it was worth it (even though the tequila did a number on me in the morning, gahhh) -- and the train ride was almost as entertaining as dinner itself...

In general, the Brown line is one of the least exciting lines for me. It's not like the Blue Line where there's an equal mix of homeless lunatics and unintentionally hilarious hipsters. It's not like the Red Line where there's an equal mix of homeless lunatics and homeowning lunatics. It's just rather vanilla.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE not getting harassed on the train. It's heavenly to ride somewhere in peace. But the Brown Line can sometimes lack the character that the other trains have.

Except for yesterday!

Yesterday, on the way to dinner, I saw this lovely lady. I almost felt bad taking her picture but it was just too perfect not to.



Yes, that's an issue of Cat Fancy right there. The magazine, the cloth bag, the oversized (floor-length) coat, the lack of wedding band -- god, I wanted to hug her!

Instead, I snapped a quick picture with my phone and made a spectacle of her on my blog.

Same thing, right?

Goog street view FAIL

When I was looking at Craigslist for apartments, viewing the location on the Goog brought me to this:



Oops.

My holiday travel, in a nutshell

Effing weather.

I knew this wasn't going to happen, but I decided to document the optimism anyway.

Right after I took this screenshot, they let us board. It looked like a fucking blizzard outside, but we were on the plane, we had de-iced and we we waiting our turn on the runway. We thought we were golden.

Until we realized that we had been waiting in line so long that our wings froze over again and we had to drive all the way back to the gate to get de-iced again. Of course, by the time we did THAT, the weather was worse and American decided to ground all flights.

We were so close!!

Instead, the made us get off the plane and wait around in the airport again.

Remember when we were on schedule?

They finally let us back on the plane and we went through the whole process again. Some people started clapping as soon as we got back in line on the runway, but one cranky bitch (who I loved) yelled at everyone and goes, "Oh, nuh uh! Not yet, folks. Let's wait and see if we actually get off the ground this time." We did.




Oh, holidays. It was great to be home and even better to enjoy some warm weather for a bit. I'll tell ya, I miss these little ones already:



Aw, my babies.

Anyway, I'm now back in Chicago, relaxing on the couch while Dave and my brother watch football. Yep, my bro decided at the last minute to take a trip here for New Year's. Clearly, I'll be taking a little more time off work than I'd planned. ;-)

Hope your holidays were wonderful as well!

Chicago bloggers get drunk

Chicago bloggers drank their faces off at Quartino and Streeters last night!

Big group. I didn't get enough pictures of everyone though because I suck.

Someone's awkward.

Second liter of wine.

Can't wait for glasses.

Hi ladies!

Cute.

It's beer pong time.

The beer pong veteran.

Another expert.

And THIS is where the night takes a hilarious yet creepy turn... Note the scary man.

Mr. Creeptastic notices our group.

Little Miss Awkward encourages him.

I IMMEDIATELY REGRET THIS DECISION.

And now you're in for a treat. Here are 10 seconds of your life that you'll never get back. You're welcome.






After that song, Mr. Creepers started making his way over to me. I think I drew attention to myself with my picture-taking and loud, creeped-out cackling. Ang immediately grabbed me, pulled me to the other side of her and glared at the man.

"Oh, no, no, no," she chided him. "MARRIED. NO."

"Happily married?" he asked me.

"YES." I said.

Ang again, "NO, NO, NO. GO."

Man persists, "Any kids?"

"One on the way -- cheers!" I said, raising my beer like a sloppy co-ed.

That did it. He left. No one likes a fetal alcohol syndrome joke.


All in all, a good night. :-)

Another thing I hate

I woke up this morning, stumbled out of bed, wrapped a fleece blanket around myself instead of putting pants on and shuffled out into the living room. Dave has been at work for, like, 2 hours already, so the apartment is empty.

As soon as I set foot in the living room, I'm greeted by a massive WHOOOSHING noise. A constant whoooshing noise. A very annoying whooshing noise. Since the dishwasher is loud and the washer/dryer is loud, I assume this is the heat that Dave must have turned on.

Confused (and a little pissed off), I walk over to the thermostat.

Off.

Oh, god dammit.

I look outside. Everything looks peaceful, if not a little dreary, but that fucking noise won't stop. Now, I realize that I live in The Windy City, but there is nothing I hate worse than wind. I would rather have rain, snow, hail -- bring it. But wind just pisses me off. It's so relentless and there's nothing you can do to stop it. At least with the other weather conditions, you can carry an umbrella. With wind? Nothing. You just get pummeled by the gusts, your recently straightened hair flying all over the damn place and why did you even bother with your appearance on a windy day?

Fuck off, wind. I hope today doesn't suck.

Talk about bad timing

A few weekends ago, Dave and I spent all of Saturday in Wicker Park. We ate at Mana, which I am now obsessed with, and shopped all along Milwaukee. Barely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to shopping in that area, but I certainly had my fill. At least my credit card did.

And I realized something...

I think I could live over there.

I know, I just moved! God dammit. But there's SUCH a different vibe in Wicker Park than there is here in Stick-Up-The-Ass River North.

Most people are RUDE here. Seriously. Our new apartment building is full of snotty, snotty bitches. And they are young. Way too young to have enough money to pay for their own apartment, that is. I don't care for the undeserved sense of entitlement.

For example, one evening, Dave and I were walking into Whole Foods just as one woman was approaching the door from the other side. We held the door for her, but she didn't even look at us, much less mutter "thank you." So I turned to her and said, "You're WELCOME." Dave quickly ushered me past her, but come on! Where's the courtesy?

Same thing happened one Saturday morning, as Dave and I were walking out of the building. We walked up to a door at the same time as two 20-year-olds approached from the other side. They were each wearing sweatshirts and Ugg boots. Dave opened the door and we moved to the side let them through first. Not one single thank-you. They barely looked at us. This time, Dave goes, "You're WELCOME." I went with the less appropriate, "Whores." (My own snottiness is escalating.)

And I realized that this uptight attitude extends past our building doors as well. On Halloween, Dave and I were walking to the train in our neighborhood and we noticed that NO ONE was dressed up. Not one person. I realize that not everyone likes Halloween, but I figured that in an area so crowded, we'd run into at least one other costume. Instead, we got stared at by uppity socialites who are Way Too Good for such a lowly holiday.

So, I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe just one more move is in our future. Wicker Park has more personality on a bum-ridden street corner than River North does in its entire area. Rent's unbelievably cheaper, people (women) are sooooo much nicer and there's virtually no pretension. Favorite moment of shopping that weekend: when I was trying to call Dave's name to come back by the dressing room, a girl in the area saw that he wasn't hearing me and she goes, "DAVE!" I wanted to hug her. In River North, I would have gotten an obnoxious look and an eye roll.

The only thing stopping me it's not as convenient of a location as where we are now. Specifically, I like being by the Red Line so we can go up to Ang's or Mel's without a hassle. So, Wicker Parkians, convince me that your neighborhood is convenient (or more than worth the inconvenience). I just might be your neighbor come next year...

Halloween

I brought my camera along this Halloween and -- get this -- actually remembered to USE IT.

This is good for you because it means you get to see the purse genius (not mine) that surfaced this holiday when people put on their awesome costumes.

Anyway, Dave and I put on our costumes and headed over to Ang's before going to a party. I dressed as either a drunk 60s housewife, a Stepford wife or Karen from Will & Grace, depending on who you asked. My costume consisted of a black dress, apron, pearls, a martini glass and a cigarette. I guess I didn't take any pictures of myself, but Ang might have a few..?


UPDATE: Here's one..



Dave, on the other hand, was a New Haircut. It was HILARIOUS because he was so dead-on, but the funniest part was that most people at the party thought he was for real. They would ask, "Who brought that douche?" And I'd be like, "Yeah, seriously."




So Dave was very much in character. All my character required was a bored look and slurred speech, so I guess I was in character too.

Nothing is in my head. It's just the "blood" on the cabinet.

On to more pics:

What do new haircuts do? JAGERBOMBS, JAGERBOMBS, JAGERBOMBS.

Blossom is too young for liquor and Cindy McCain only approves of prescription pills.

Stef is from The Birds!

Heroes in a half shell.

Yum, beer in a martini glass. That's what we call klassy.

Looks like Cindy loosened up a bit. God bless America and blueberry vodka.

Oh, how teen pregnancy is hilarious.

Is it time for more jagerbombs already?

Sweeney Todd

Ang was a Trev magnet (since she attracts so many redheads...). And she stole a gun from Indiana Jones.

Our sweet little blogger got a little trigger happy.

Watch out, Indy. This chick means business.

Guy on the right is The Shocker.

What's wrong, Cindy? Out of vodka already?

Fav pic EVER: A Trev asking Angie what her costume is. Oh, irony, I love you.

Saw this when we went to the bathroom. Totally not real. Totally freaky.

Hey, broski, where's your Heineken?

Ole!

Smooches.

Joe Sixpack on the train.

It's like she JUST realized there were birds there.

Other memorable costumes I saw but didn't get a picture of:

• Jem
• Cruella Deville
• Ace & Gary, the Ambiguously Gay Duo
• Garth from Wayne's World
• Girls dressed really slutty
  

Me, Ang, Dave and Stef called it an early night and headed out to get food around midnight. Dave and I were home by 2 and he was passed out by 2:01. Even after 3 jagerbombs and many Heinekens, he was completely fine in the morning. That always happens. I hate him for it.

Hope you all had a fun Halloween too!!