A Case for Soda

**** WARNING: This article has nothing to do with the original purpose of this blog (i.e. my life and times in Chicago, improv, and the like) It is more an outlet for the author- which is the point of a blog anyway, so get over yourself and stop fronting. Thank you.********

We all have our vices.

Some people have the BS vices like “I just work too hard!” or “I just cannot doing cardio” or “I just love cleaning” or “I have so many friends! It’s hard to keep up.” And I realize in their extremes, these types of vices will get you a spot on some TLC reality show, but I am talking about the moderates. The people who think there is honestly something “wrong” with any of those things in the moderation in which they are practiced.

Then there are people with more normal vices, the smoker, the drinker, the curser, the one-night-stander- or some combination of them and numerous other things. Once again, really nothing wrong with these things in moderation- this conversation is geared towards the moderates, namely the moderate who feel guilty.

I feel in order for something to be a vice, it means you have to know it’s kind of bad, but still do it anyway- probably because it makes you feel good.

For me, one of my biggest vices is soda, or pop, or coke, or soft drinks, whatever you want to call them. I know there is absolutely no nutritional value to be found. I realize they are probably permanently staining my teeth, and I understand that they are completely made of chemicals for the most part. Oh and there’s that the whole “cancer” thing associated with them too.

During Lent for us Catholics, we are encouraged to attempt to combat some or one of these vices. Since high school, save last year when I was in LA, I have given up soda mostly as a way to ease my guilt and to lie to myself using the logic that if I cut out soda for 40 days, I will be an overall healthier person. And who doesn’t want those things?

Me. I’m over it.

Well… not over Lent, or being genetically hard-wired to appreciate and desire to observe all traditions I have ever experienced. Oh, and certainly not over the guilt… BUT over the soda hate.

My poison of choice is Mr. 23 Flavors himself- Dr. Pepper. (Yes, Dr. Pepper COULD also be a woman, but I if you think back to when Dr. Pepper was created, chances are if it were a woman it would have been Nurse Pepper, and that’s just not as appealing. But, I digress.) Now, Dr. Pepper has been a companion for me since I had my first taste when my family lived back in Cicero- for those of you not familiar with my family’s roots, this means I was probably 5. I distinctly remember I was so excited by the taste I got a bloody nose, which then frightened me away from Dr. Pepper for a good few years. But for the most part, it has been a taste I have known my whole life. I believed the lie that it was mostly prune juice, I’ve followed the ad campaigns, it’s even one of the few products I personally chose to “like” on Facebook allowing them access to all my Facebook-y information.

But this isn’t about a love story between the Doctor and myself. This is a case for soda, a case being made with full disclosure and understanding that these things are not good for you- so that is not being taken into consideration. instead we are focusing on the benefits here from an addicts point of view:

1) Taste- already briefly mention in my reference to Dr.Pepper, but I associate many of my life experiences with what I was drinking at the time. Summers at the lake with my cousins was often accompanied by Barq’s Red Cream Soda. Of course, rum chased by Coke during ridiculous nights at IU. And a cool glass of 7UP to cure that unsettled tummy when home sick from school.

2) De-stress. Maybe it’s the chemicals, or the sick attachment I have developed, but something settles me down like a crisp Dr. Pepper in the middle of a hectic day. Sometimes it’s better than a beer. Sitting, relaxing, putting my feet up- feels like I’m taking 15 minutes to myself. Some people need smoke breaks, I need DP breaks.

3) Caffeine. BIDOOF! This one is a no brainer. The caffeine perks you up. “Coke Breaks” are the secret to a hard-core day of shopping with my Mom and sister. It gives you a chance to sit, slow down, and pop some caffeine/sugar into your system. The ultimate pick me up, if you ask me. Maybe it’s the familiarity, maybe it’s just my crippling caffeine addiction being subdued by a dose of the good stuff.

4) Feel fuller. Now I am not aruging for pop as a diet tool. That is crossing the line and stupid. It’s chemical water and sugar- I’m not an idiot. However, when do I my silly stints of soda sacrifice, I notice I eat a lot worse than I typically do. I try to eat healthy on a day-to-day basis, but that also doesn’t stop me from eating my grilled cheese- but that’s not the issue here. In my mind when I feel I’m not drinking that plague-ridden soda, I can compensate my eating more candy, or potato chips. Where that logic comes from, I honestly do not know, but I know I do it. Additionally, I don’t have the carbonation in my tummy to make me feel physically full, so instead I crave stupid things to fill me up.

5) It feels good. I just like soda. I like diet. I like regular. I like 10 calorie-just-for-men pop. So sue me.

This is just my case for soda. I couldn’t even make it into a 6-pack of an argument. I’m sick of being told how bad it is for me, because I know it is. But I don’t care. I just felt like getting my side of the story out there. Hopefully now, you will be able to own the vice in your life. We all can’t be perfect all the time.  It’s my life and I’m pretty enthralled with it!

My point exactly!!!

Shot to the Heart

Sometimes you just a shot in the arm. Sometimes you just need a shot to the head. Sometimes you just need to shoot something. What I am trying to say here is everyone should own a gun.

Not really. I have no idea what I am trying to say. Very few posts have EVER been thought out before being written. This post is in the same vein, but I’ve been planning on writing it for a long time. With the winter doldrums setting in, Valentine’s Day around the corner, and not being able to go to a CVS without being bombarded by candy and valentines and sexy messages, it can get you thinking. Now- please know I am not some lovey-dovey Valentine’s Day fan. To be honest, I could take it or leave it, but it IS a nice way to stop and think about love and such in February. People claim it is a Hallmark Holiday, and that may be true, but I don’t think it’s the Day’s fault or anyone’s fault really. If there is any fault at all, it’s probably found in February. For some reason America decided long ago that it would dump every random thing it could into the shortest month of the year: President’s Day, Black History Month, Wear Red for Women’s Heart Disease Day, Animal Cruelty Awareness Month, MLK Day, Groundhog Day, Leap Day- I’m sure I could go on, but what’s the harm of adding one day when people can either get mushy gushy about love or stressed out and angry over love, or even proud and loud about being single? (I accept all of those and any other emotional reaction as appropriate ways to celebrate) It’s a day that makes you to feel something- anything, which I think is pretty OK.

Sure this may be coming from a girl who has happily been in the same relationship since High School, but it is also coming from a girl who spent that first High School Valentine’s Day kept apart from her beloved because of a snow storm (which seemed so poetically tragic at the time), a girl who spent last year’s Valentine’s Day sans boyfriend with new friends at a Hooters in Burbank, CA (which was awesome), and it is also coming from a girl who after being in very close quarters with previously mentioned boyfriend for the first 5 years of courtship, has been in a Commuter Relationship for over the last year.

And they said we wouldn't make it past Super Bowl XLIII

True, I only have myself to blame for the whole Commuter prefix. I went to LA last January (see BasicCableIntern.com) and after coming back to Indy for about a month, I moved to Chicago to pursue this whole “improv” thing. But it is also important to note, that the Commuter thing hasn’t made any of this “following your dreams” stuff any easier. At this point it’s becoming apparent that maybe your dreams aren’t as vivid without your best friend around to cheer you on, keep you in line, and make fun of everything ridiculous with you.

Ewwww gross! Feelings!

My apologies for all the sap that has made your computer sticky. Unfortunately, for you, I write this blog and it’s about my life. Fortunately for you- I hate talking about this stuff, so know it will be well reigned in. But since it is affecting my life heavily, I figured what better way to throw my 2 cents in on this whole Valentine’s Day malarkey than with some Meg Elliott Tips and Tricks of a Commuter Relationship:

1) Try to See Each Other Often – but know it will never be as often as you’d like to see each other. On those days or weekends when you can’t be together, find something to do for yourself- it will make you more tolerable to your S/O, yourself, and others. It can also serve as a nice distraction to your confusing loneliness!

2) Avoid Making Too Much Fuss- if there are plans, one or both parties will stress about them. Instead of planning your limited time away, try to make the most of it by doing things you would do normally if you were together- not every weekend needs to be the Super Bowl. And, you’ve both been leading busy lives between visits so there is a good chance you need the time to recharge.

3) Don’t Overshare – this goes for your relationship AND with those around you. No one really cares about how much you miss someone else. At the same time, it only tortures your lova if you keep telling them how bad you can feel at your lowest points. Now, this may sound like bottling it up- I’m not promoting that. I’m just promoting self awareness. Realize that just because you’re upset or whatever, doesn’t mean anyone else wants your mood to bring them down worrying about you. Share sparingly with people who care. Every once in a while, lay it all out for people- because bottling is not a good practice for emotions, or find some outlet. But don’t make your deal someone else’s headache.

4) Keep Having Fun- No matter what, together or separate, find your fun. You and your stress levels will thank you for finding it.

5) Don’t Listen to Anyone – I take this as general advice for everything because nobody knows what you want other than you and nobody can make it happen except you. But in this senario it’s important because there will always be people telling you what you should be doing. “No you should hang out with me” “You shouldn’t spend so much time together” “You should feel this way” “‘This should make you do this” blah blah blah. If there is one thing I have learned from anything- other people’s imput is only what you make of it.  You can’t be expected to behave a certain way based on what someone else suggests. Advice should always be welcome, and taken into consideration, but taken with a brick of salt.

Now that you have been instructed to ignore me, please do. I also must admit that I am probably biased and really have no foundation for any of this. And really #5 is the most important tid-bit I could come up with. AND if we really want to be upfront here, I have been doing a terrible job living by my own advice. BUT it is always nice to have goals and think things out.

It is really important that I go on record here saying I feel like a total Tool Bag for writing this post. Maybe I just did it for me. Maybe it will help someone, but really I’m leaning towards teh latter. I don’t know who it will help becasue I don’t know anyone who would read this blog and be in my situation- if you are reading this AND are in a similar situation talk to me about it. I’d love to commiserate with you!

Thanks for humoring me.

ON THE D’L’

There is nothing like a crazy mumbler. A few nights ago I had the pleasure of enjoying my 20-30 minute L trek to my apartment in very close quarters with a classic mumbler. At first, I ignored him, like any good public commuter. Then I realized he was making very precise fashion comments about everyone on the train: “Skirt too tight” “That’s a nice shade of yellow” “I couldn’t wear that” “Who does she think she is!?” This was a straight up crazy mumbler, acting as a live show of Fashion Police. Unfortunately, I  had to exit the train before I got my critique from him. I really wanted to know what he thought of my sweater dress.

Making Just Enough for the City

So it has been a long and weary mile since I last wrote. I do seriously understand this- as always. One day I will be able to stop starting off my posts with an acknowledgement of my neglect or an apology, but for now it is the best way to get me in the mood (hear that, fellas!) to write.

Since my last post, nearly two months have gone by and in those two months I was a major part of moving 350+ people and all the office stuff that goes along with that mass from three offices spread across the northwest loop area of the city to the Merchandise Mart (http://www.mmart.com/about/themerchandisemart/ for info!). This building is one of the largest commercial spaces in the world and was once owned by the Kennedys if that gives you any idea of the size and scope of this undertaking- oh and there were three people on my team, myself included. A good three weeks of late nights packing up the offices, penning numerous, hilarious directional emails to employees (that, on the whole were ignored -well the information was ignored, the humor was appreciated by those who count), and making lists, checking them twice, then promptly misplacing those lists and with them my mind- my team spent an entire weekend practically living at the Mart unpacking and setting up. To put this in a time frame: All of our packed junk was picked up and brought to the Mart by movers on Friday, Dec 16 starting at Noon. We had to have the office ready for a normal (as possible) business day by 8:00Am Monday, Dec 19. THEN there was dealing with all the adjustments. In the days of Dec 12-Dec21  alone, I worked over 100 hours.  Needless to save, I needed a lot of time to recoup physically and mentally. I’ve been trying to write for weeks but haven’t had the will power. All in all it was actually a really fun, great experience and I’m proud of what we accomplished- but I never want to do it again.

However, if anything it was proven that hard work DOES pay off, because as of Jan 30, I became an official full time employee as opposed to a contracted hourly worker. YEAH BENEFITS! I’d like to thank everyone, starting with The Man and ending with loving Corporations for being so easily fooled into giving me a job.

You don't know how it feels to be me.

In the meantime, I’ve been working and improv-ing all the time. There has been a lot of long days and lot of great days. Its a mix. In my time debating writing or not I have tried to think of what I have been feeling most consistently in this time. There’s a lot going on in my life, just as there is a lot going on in everyone’s life. When I talk to my recent post-grad friends, I get this sense that we are all trying to figure it- some better than others, but still figuring it out one way or another. For many of us, it’s figuring out what’s next- “Ok so I have this job to fill my time, now what” or there are those waiting it out for grad school “Ok, I got into grad school for next year, now what” Or it’s those who just haven’t thought about much “now what”. There are many shades of grey in this spectrum but I can’t help but wonder if everyone feels like I do about any of it. Not so much the “what’s next” but the feeling that I can only describe as I guess shock or surprise that this has finally become MY(or YOUR) LIFE.

Not to say I am at all totally independent and self sufficient, but every single thing that happens: what job are you going to take, how are you going to deal with this issue in this relationship (coworker, significant others, roommates, relatives), your life outside work, finding a way to life the live you want- is entirely on you. Sure you can call everyone and their brother for advice, but ultimately how you chose to react, not react, work with people, and make plays can no longer be blamed on anyone but you. For the most part I guess. It’s been this way for a while, but you can’t use some of the excuses you used to, and you certainly can play it however you choose. Which is, at the same time, both awesome and terrifying. Sitting here writing this, I am guessing most of my peers have felt this way for a long time and maybe I am just a late bloomer. Maybe being confronted with the quandary of how much life insurance I want to buy into or which PPO plan is best for me has set off this way of thinking. Maybe its also the terror of realizing how each of these thing could weigh in your life- and its up to you to decide how much weight you want to give them.

Am I rambling? Probably- but I’ve been interrupted so many times while writing this, you will just have to bear with me.

Bottom line: I am making more decisions about more minuet and important things than I have ever had to make in my life all at once. Part of me hates this, because I hate making decisions- I can’t even decide where I want to eat on my birthday, the one day when everyone expects you to “pcik your favorite place” which should be easy. But, no. I’m the type of person who usually doesn’t have a favorite and can’t decide whether it is better to try someplace new and be adventerous on your birthday or go to that classic standard that you love because it’s “so you”. Part of me is up in their air about this- “with great power comes great responsibility”~ Spiderman’s Uncle – so I will keep you posted, maybe.

Not to get all weird and philosophical on you all like that. Sorry this post wasn’t the laugh-a-minute style you’re used to, like I ALWAYS deliver. But this is what is occupying (yeah, 99%!) my thoughts at the moment and has been for a while. I thought maybe if I wrote about it, I would be able to get away from it for a while and be able to write the entertaining material you love about things like how funny it is when you see someone run into something or how funny it is when you see someone fall down or how hilarious peoples faces are when they are holding back a sneeze- SEE WHAT YOU ARE MISSINIG OUT ON!?!

Like usual things seem to be Coming Up Meg. AND when you have all this stuff to do, you get to make awesome choices- like taking your boyfriend to see Buddy Guy:

I took this picture, while Buddy Guy was like 10 feet from me.. NBD

On The D”L”:

OK So CTA Juan has not been out of the picture, but I have saddly seen less of him since Decemeber. My worst fear is that he may have been switched to a different CTA stop. (Damn you, Addison!!) The last time I saw him though, we had a pleasant interaction. It was the Wednesday after the move- my last day at work before heading home for a five days off for Christmas/Recuperation. My hours of working had kept me from doing laundry and as much as I wanted to wear a pair of sweatpants and one of my many over-sized sweatshirts, I tried to pull it together to make it through that last day. All week I had been told all the things every young, 23 year old girl wants to be told: “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look tired” and “Man, Meg, you could definietly use more sleep” “I don’t like to tell young ladies this, but you just look exhausted” and my personal favorite, “Meg, you just have no color in your face today”- which is my favorite because being an incredible pale person to begin with- I never knew I had color in my face to lose. ANYWAY outfitted in my cleanest pair of jeans (which is NOT impressive) and a ho-hum shirt, I alight the stairs to the train to see Juan at the top. As soon as I get up to the platform, he looks me dead in the eyes and says with an innocent smile, “Nice legs!”

It was the best compliment I had ever heard- while also being the creepiest.  My heart was both melted and frozen at the same time.

Luckily the train pulled up immediately, and I was able to mumble an awkward “thank you?” as I dragged my sleep-deprived body onto the train.

She’ll be Coming Around the Mountain

Seriously, I am going to forgo the long and winding road that leads me to an acknowledgement of and apology for my poor  updating skills.

Instead I am going to dedicate this post to my Aunt Mar, who at Thanksgiving urged me to write “at least one post” before Christmas.  I told her I would, and I want to keep good on my word.

In this post Thanksgiving, pre-Christmas period, also know as Advent to us Catholics, my life has pretty much been busier than it’s possibly ever been? I end that statement with a question mark, only because I can hardly remember what I ate for breakfast, and I tend to keep myself pretty busy all the time. I think that has something to do with my genes – THANKS MOM!…? My rationale is 5 hours of sleep + caffeine can make anything happen. But it’s not just DOING stuff that is keeping me busy- it’s the whole “being responsible” part instead. These are just normal things people do everyday and have been doing for eternity. Doing them in this context is just new-ish to me. Paying bills, keeping the house clean, making sure you’re getting your mail, keeping things in line at work, worrying about work when you aren’t there,  making sure you eat, worrying that Subway will still have turkey for your mediocre 6″ sub, making lunches so you don’t have to buy one, eating breakfast, finding time to hang out with your friends, finding alone time, walking the dog, you get the point. Bottom line, I have never considered “being responsible” something difficult, and I like to think I have a pretty good handle on it. But it is amazing how much one late night, too long a Skype session, or one extra drink can really throw everything for a loop.

In keeping in the Advent spirit, I have been also trying get my fill of Christmas wonder. Granted, I don’t have a tree up, nor do I feel like spending money on decorations that I have but have lost somewhere among all the stuff I brought home from college and have yet to sort through (yeah, yeah I’ll get around to it eventually). BUT I did buy some holly tinsel at the grocery store, and plan on getting a few more reels. Additionally, I have been jamming to Pandora “White Christmas” radio every morning as I get ready for my day. There’s nothing quite like Bing, Ella, Nat, and Perry belting out the traditional hits at an even pace to get you going in the morning. What really got me in the spirit had to be the surprise Santa Express “L” train I saw last week. It had been a long day, and I was going home to a 15 minute bowl of soup, then out the door again and this little gem popped up:

Santa Clause is coming to town... On public transportation.

CAN YOU SAY ADOORBELL!!! You can’t see it in my shotty pictures, but there was actually an entire regular car taken out of the train, replaced by a flat, decorative car complete with Santa and sleigh! I would be lying if I wasn’t tearing up a bit. Then this past weekend I dragged my lovely boyfriend down to the German Christmas market: Chriskindlmarket on Daley Plaza downtown. It was Christmas happiness jampacked onto less than one city block. They had German Nutcrackers, amazingly ornate Cuckoo clocks (now SO on the Christmas list), dazzling ornaments made out of everything from wood to sugar to glass. Of course there were the alluring scents of German food and libations wafting thought the air, but Kevin and I curbed our appetites with a chocolate covered rice krispie treat.

Needless to say, I love Christmas. It is not difficult for me to get over excited by the lights covering all the skinny trees downtown, or well up when catching just the end of It’s A Wonderful Life – I tried to TiVo it, then found out it was an edited version on NBC so commercials could fit into it, so I erased everything but the last 5 minutes and watched that. The whole movie is due for a watch soon, so TCM, get on that.

HAPPY ST. NICK’S EVE EVERYONE!

20 Day’s til Christmas!

On the DL

So it has been a while, but quite possibly the most amazing “L” related thing that could have happened has happened. My daily ‘L’ train commute that begins at the Sheridan stop, now has a recurring character for us to love and hold in awe.

I first saw him several weeks ago, wearing a neon CTA vest, carrying a broom and talking to a man wearing a wool topcoat and matching fedora, who had given up on trying to read his Red Eye paper. At first I thought nothing of these men. They were just chatting. The closer I got, the more everything changed:

Man: “Well taken into the context of all the world’s dictators, I don’t know if I could say he is the worst.”

CTA worker : “Amen to that, brother! I tell you, it’s that damn Saddam – he’s just the worst.”

Man: “Moreso than Stalin?”

CTA worker: “Defnitely”

Man : “What about Hitler?”

CTA worker: “…Good point… that’s a tough one! Hey, I’ve really enjoyed our conversation. I’m Juan”

Man: “Me too. Nice to meet you Juan, I’m John.”

CTA worker: “Well what do you know! We have the same name just the Spanish and English versions!”

At this point the train is approaching and John uses it as an excuse to start gathering his things and move to a different spot on the platform. Having stopped nearby as to enhance my eavesdropping abilities, I became Juan’s next target. He came up next to me and exclaimed:
CTA JUAN: “Thank God it’s Friday and here comes the train! She’ll be coming around the corner when she comes… she’ll be coming around the corner when she comes! Come on, everyone, sing with me!!!”

I couldn’t help but be overcome by the excitement of Friday and Juan’s earnest attempts at a sing-a-long on such a brisk Friday morning, so, I, the brave only CTA passenger willing, joined in and Juan and I welcomed the train with song.

And don’t worry- this is just the beginning of CTA Juan.

With a Little Help from my Friends.

Hi Internet- it’s been a while. I am a lackadaisical blog author. I apologize, but I am beginning to realize that is just who I am. If you don’t like it, then maybe you should stay at your mother’s this weekend because I don’t know if I can change… Wait. No, come back. I didn’t mean it. Look, I have just been really busy trying to live a life worth writing about in a public forum, easily accessible through a series of tubes for you. While I can’t commit to daily, weekly, or regularly scheduled updates, I want to do this. I will make more of an effort to make it work, for us. I love you. Wow, I feel so much better.

…WELL as you might have guessed from that dramatic scene, I have been living in Crazy Town the last few weeks since my last post. Things have been moving in what feels like Fast Forward so I will try to be at the same time informative, but brief.

The most recent life-changing event that has taken place has been moving into my first “big girl” apartment with my beloved Nate Z. Gold. Our two week anniversary (yes, I am celebrating weekly anniversaries- it’s all so new!) of living together will be Saturday. The move itself was as chaotic as I hoped it wouldn’t be and more enjoyable than I thought possible, thanks to the people who came to help. Kevin came up from Indy to be the boyfriendly support for the weekend, which turned into actually overseeing a lot of the day’s chaos. My Mom and Dad also drove up from Indy with my Grandpa’s truck full of goodies: cleaning supplies, a toaster oven, dishes, some things I had asked for them to bring up, and most importantly my bed. Even Penny the Pooch came up for the trip and did her part by politely waiting in the car for the majority of the day. My sister, Gen met up with my parents too! Having people there was the easy part.

My key pick-up time was scheduled for 12:30pm at the apartment. By that time the previous tenants were to be gone, and the maintenance people were to have cleaned the apartment. When Kevin and I pulled up, the door was wide open, there was a couch and other personal belongings on the porch and a shoddily throw together sign taped on the stuff that said “Be back in 30 min. Thanks” with no signature. Deciding to see the best in people Kevin told me 30 minutes wasn’t that terrible of a wait so let’s just looks around. Inside the apartment there was no one, but it was rather dirty- at least to my cleanliness-trained hawkeyes (Is that a blessing or a curse? Either way, thanks Mom). We walked back to the porch where someone else who was moving in called out to us as though we were finally back to get the things we had left on the porch, “Talk about a long 30 minutes, right guys!?” The puzzled looks on our faces must have informed him that we were not moving out, but moving in. He apologized and told us that the items and the sign had been sitting on the porch for over two hours- meaning no one knew when the previous tenants were coming back or where they had gone with our keys. The new landlord came over and apologized and suggested we wait it out. While waiting it out a guy drove up to the apartment with a pick up truck and told Kevin and me that he had solicited the couch on the porch from the old tenants on craigslist. For all I know he could have been anyone who wanted that couch and I would have let them take it, but I’m sure he was legit. Kevin helped him load the couch into the truck and I offered that he take anything else he wanted, which he did not, but could have. It all ended up in a dumpster anyway.

By this point Nate had come along and was brought up to speed. Nate couldn’t wait much longer because he had to go to class, which I had known about and thought I could handle the move on my own. Since we were already off to this great start, I quickly realized how much I had overestimated myself and had Kevin follow Nate to his old apartment to oversee the movers he had hired and bring them to the new digs.

After the boys left, I didn’t have much time to myself, which is good because I would have stewed in my moving disenchantment. Soon the landlord came by with new keys and locks and decided we were going to have the locks changed because this had been “the longest 30 minutes in the world.” As he started up his power drill, the cable and internet representative came by to set us up, and right has he launches into his thickly accented monologue about RCN, TiVo and how the internet works in general, Dad calls and says they are closing in on my place and Nate’s movers arrive. So pretty much everything that I had spent the prior week spacing out for move-in day, all occurred at the same moment in one fell swoop. It was something out of a movie, but at the same time I should have definitely seen it coming.

Within an hour the cable guy had come and gone, Nate’s room was filled with his bed and boxes, the new locks were installed- leaving me with a mountain of keys to play keyhole crapshoot with, and I was left to try and set up as much as I could while my Mom and sister diligently cleaned so I wouldn’t have so much to do later (THANK YOU!)  and Kevin and Dad hauled in the goodies. My early evening Mom, Dad and Penny retired back to Indianapolis and Gen went to her apartment to get ready for her birthday celebration later that night. It was after everyone left I realized I needed to get ready for the evening as well and the mess left over from moving would have to wait until tomorrow… or the next day… or the next week… OK maybe the apartment is still a work in progress, but I digress.

Having been sweating, cleaning and running around all day the first thing I needed to do was shower off the stress of the day so I could prep for the evening. I dug out my towel and bathrobe and walked into the bathroom met one of the greatest challenges of the day: In the rush of new apartment excitement, I had forgotten to get a shower curtain.

In lieu of “tubbin’ it” (because we do have an adorable footed bathtub/shower deal going on) I decided to force the shower, sans curtain. Go to the nearest convenient mart and get a shower curtain? My God! There was no time! Foolishly I figure I had enough control over my body to keep my movements very minimal and contained. Cautiously, I turned on the water to evaluate the flow and got in. Within seconds I heard SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT and realized I was practically flooding the bathroom floor. It was the fastest yet most focused shampooing of my life. Luckily later than night, Nate bought a shower curtain. When I stumbled home from going out for Gen’s birthday, he asked me to hang it. So I did what any exhausted, tipsy girl would do- I asked my boyfriend to figure it out.

Pictured: the joint efforts of Nate, Kevin, and my Mom. (FOOTED BATH TUB- I didn't know what that term meant until apartment hunting.)

AND that’s the story of my first day in my first “big girl” apartment. There has been other stuff going on in between then and now, but quite frankly, I’m pooped and can’t focus very well anymore. After two weeks, Nate and I still have no furniture in out living room. Where furniture should be, we have several blankets laid out on the ground and the TV using the TiVo as a proper stand. Basically, we are living the dream.

The D “L”

Sometimes when I get on the L in the morning, I just don’t feel like reading. Right now, I am reading a collection of Kurt Vonnegut short stories (and loving it) but today was one of those days. However, if I am not reading, I get sleepy. So today I decided to play a game. The person I was playing with had no idea there was a game taking place and that she was the only competitor. I was the scorekeeper, referee, and manager. The game was The ‘Like’ Game. It’s quite simple. I sit and eavesdrop on someone’s conversation, carefully counting how many times they say “like” in the period I am eavesdropping. This chick looked like she couldn’t have been much older than myself and she was talking on her cell phone loudly with a intensity as if it were the last conversation she would ever have. She was also wearing flip flops and touched her fair a lot. She must have been born for this game. I started listening when I got on the train at Fullerton. Here is where I can’t tell if I am impressed or terrified. She managed to get in a good 30-some “likes” before we made it to the next stop. The ride couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes. Uncomortably, I decided to stop playing. But when one starts The “Like” Game, they don’t get to choose when they stop playing. The game tells you when you’re about to crack, then pushes you a little further.

I spent the next 10 minutes on the train trying to ignore her incessant monologue. I looked at the window, I looked at other people, I even tried to open my book in the shoulder-to-shoulder packed train. It was all to no avail. Before I, like, knew it, like, “like”, was all I could, like, think about. My viens ran cold, my mind was numbing. I had become the monster I was previously poaching all in the short distance between Fullerton and the Merchandise Mart.  Let’s just say I, like, learned my lesson about playing games with eavesdropping. That being said, I probably, like, won’t change, or whatever.

Movin’ on Up!

Moving is a bear.

 

Well, they make it look easy

 

No wait, I take that back because I haven’t even MOVED yet. Prepping to move- yes, PREPPING is a bear.  So far this week I have spent a collective 3 hours on the phone between ComEd, People’s Gas, Comcast, and my new landlord trying to piece together the puzzle that IS utilities. That doesn’t even take into account the time I have spent researching the difference between Comcast and RCN to compare prices, packages, and internet speed.

I mean, really!?!

Everyone always talks about how stressful moving is. I get it, I’m adding to the cycle. But the thing is, I kinda enjoy the thrill of packing your life up and unpacking it- it’s like Christmas. But instead of gifts, it’s just the stuff you forgot you had, and instead of Santa delivering toys from his sleigh, it’s three fat guys named Tony, Phil and Armando moving your roommate’s crap from their truck. And I haven’t even GOTTEN to that magical stage yet! I’m still stuck in the set up.

Oh, I guess for those of you who don’t know, I am signing a lease tonight to make the roommateship of Margaret Therese and Nathaniel Zev official. In addition, this means I will have my own swinging* bachelorette pad** and be moving off of Tom’s lovely couch. Don’t worry, pictures of this sweet crib will be posted as soon as I take them.

This also marks the most money I have even spent on one thing at one time in my entire life. While I was raised and believe talking about money is impolite, this is an incredible moment. I mean, between the security deposit and first month’s rent, this has been a real investment for me. It is at the same time exciting and terrifying.  And it makes this whole “utilities” thing even more daunting. Don’t they realize I am a young, sassy damn out doing things as much on her own as she can for the first time in her life? Shouldn’t they cut me a deal? Shouldn’t they take my calls? Shouldn’t they respect me? The answer to all of these questions is no. Of course it’s no. Life is not candy canes and reindeer all the time. Sometimes it is stale pretzels and parakeets – neither of which are particularly bad, by not exactly what you wanted.

I guess what I am saying, is that every new experience can’t be as glamorous as others. But that doesn’t mean even the mundane ones can’t be a little exciting when you’re doing them for the first time.

 

On the D-“L”

SO it has been a few weeks since I posted, and in the time I made one of the most rookie mistakes any public transportation patron can make. It went down about a week ago. I was looking for apartments with Nate. We thought we had stumbled upon the perfect place. It was close to an ‘L’ and it was a good price. We were so excited that we were blinded by reason and being the busy people we are, had places to be. We dashed up the stairs of the Belmont ‘L’ stop. Belmont is a transfer stop. You can transfer between the Brown line and Red line. I was heading to the Brown, Nate to the Red. As we dashed up the stairs I saw a train coming on the right side of the tracks where the Brown line runs.  I waved goodbye to Nate and stepped on the train. It wasn’t until we started moving I had realized my recklessness.  In my haste I’d boarded a Purple line express train! These only run during rush periods and Belmont is the last stop before it becomes a true express up to Linden- which I found out is roughly a 20 minute trip. There was nothing I could do but ride, wait, and hop on the next Purple train back to Belmont. And that’s how I spent the next hour of my life. Luckily, I’ve recently gotten into Kurt Vonnegut and had Cat’s Cradle to keep me company.

Going to Chicago

Dear Internet-

It has been a long time since I have taken to the keyboard and monitor to somehow put into words the happenings of my daily life and new adventures. You may be familiar with me and my style as a Basic Cable Intern. Since you’ve last heard from me, things have changed. While I will remain a Basic Cable Intern in my heart forever, I have, to put in Pokemon terms, “evolved”. This evolution includes several major changes: a new city, a new position, new classes, new living situation, dog I live with, and a couple pairs of new shoes. To be brief: Chicago, receptionist at an advertising company, iO and Second City improv classes, sleeping on my brother’s couch, Harper the labradoodle, brown leather calf-high and black suede wedge booties. Things that haven’t changed: my haircut, wardrobe, friends and family support, boyfriend, and all around chick/nerd infused coolness- or at least the self-illusion that I am cool. In brief again: long and messy, simple and faux-chic, Mom, Dad, Grandparents, Siblings, Ol’ College Buddies (we can start saying that about one another now), Kevin (bidoof!), and seriously- I’m mildly awesome and nearly cool. These changes will become clearer as you read on; hopefully this evolution from Basic Cable Intern to ChiMeg (thanks, Mom!) will prove Super Effective!

A lot of things have happened since my transition from LA to Indianapolis to Chicago. The reason for my pilgrimage to Chicago remains my quest to study in the improv mecca of the world. I have been here officially for almost a month now, crashing on Tom’s couch perfecting my “bro” skills through hanging out with his roommates Peter and Matt. My sister Gen and her boyfriend Pat have also been instrumental in this move by allowing me to use their  apartment address like it is my own so people in Chicago will hire me, taking me out to countless meals (THANKS!) and being all around good to hang out with and talk things out with. Thanks to everyone!!

Twice a week I take improv classes, Mondays at Second City, and Wednesdays at iO. (Obligatory shout out to everyone in those classes with me!) So far, everything has been going well. I love the classes and even though it is not as invigorating as doing a show, it is still a chance to hone my skills and despite my improv history, I am learning new things each class- even if it is fundamentals I haven’t thought about in a long time. I’m four weeks in to my eight-week classes then it is onwards and upwards to the next levels. One of the best perks of these classes is that I get free admission to nearly every show at each theatre. It’s nice to know I’ve always got something free to do that I am interested in already.

Today marks the beginning of my third week in my receptionist job. Wow, having a job feels great. Looking for a job is hard, frustrating, and time consuming. I never realized that before looking. I was lucky enough to find one only a few weeks into my serious search.  The company I am with is great; it’s a young, casual, fun office environment.  I would rather not give specifics because I am still so new and that isn’t what this job is about. Of course any fun anecdotes about being a “working-girl” will be on this blog within hours. Also- getting paid and making paper is awesome.

For now, those are the basics. I cannot guarantee this blog will be well-written, entertaining, or posted to on a clean schedule. It won’t be exactly like my Basic Cable Intern blog as far as celebrity sightings and western-flair goes but I can promise that I will be honest and hopefully that will be enough. I’ll keep writing even if you stop reading, but I just want to keep you all In The Loop. (Yeah, that was corny- I only said I thought I was cool, that doesn’t make it fact)

The D-“L”:

This will be my postly segment sharing my experiences (or giving you the Down Low –get it?) with you a piece of the most interesting place in Chicago: The CTA “L” or Elevated train. The “El”, “L”, “EL” is probably one of my favorite things about Chicago- it’s loud, it’s smelly, it’s fast, and it gets me, and on average 650,000 other people, from A to B daily. No two trips are the same and while it can be the bane of my existence at times, it can be the most peaceful or hilarious place in the city at others.