it's not you. it's me.

Dear New York,

I don't even know where to begin. I first want to start by asking you to please understand and not to hate me. It's me. It's not you. You did nothing wrong. We apparently were not meant for one another. What with your high rent, boroughs, hot dog street vendors, frequently used water taxis, and residents such as this guy....I say no thank you. Chicago just swept me off my feet. It came out of nowhere. I didn't plan for this to happen. And again, you did nothing wrong. I think have been moving in different directions for quiet some time now. I don't know what the future holds for us and I am definitely not ruling out the possibility of us being together at some point. But, for now. Right now. Chicago is who I have to be with. Chicago has my heart. I hope you understand. I want the best for you New York.

Much love,
emily

(via StevenBrisson)

It's funny. I spent the majority of my life being completely obsessed with New York City. I wanted nothing more than to live there. I always said, "I won't be happy if I don't live in New York City for at least some part of my life." I just felt this amazing connection with the city. It was a relationship. New York was my first love. But, like most love, you go through transition. About two and a half years ago I moved to Chicago and slowly the city began to take over the real estate that New York used to claim in my heart. I moved here sort of on a whim. I had never been here when I decided to move. I did come for a weekend to see that I really liked it. And, I did. So, here I am. About two years into this adventure and I couldn't be happier. I will always love New York City. It has something magical about it that can not be replicated; however, what I began to realize once I moved here is that perhaps some of my love was just about as city...not necessary The City. That's right New York...you get a capital T and a capital C. You're that important. Anyway, I think it was just that I belonged in a city and that is why New York appealed to me so much. Chicago isn't New York, but it is pretty amazing in and of itself. And when I got here, I learned that it was something much greater than New York...it was my home.

So, today I celebrate what it is that I love about Chicago and that I am one of the millions in this big city:

• Starbucks, Caribou Coffee, Argo Tea, and a plethora of other cafes within walking distance
• BYOB restaurants
• Diversity
• Unlimited selection of take out places
• Public transportation
• Cabs at my doorstep
• Street festivals all summer long
• Never being woken up by a lawn mover, weed wacker, chirping birds, etc.
• Two airports to choose from
• Two baseball teams
• More bars within walking distance than I can count
• Doormen
• Peapod
• Dog walkers
• The Redeye
• Never calling it Willis Tower
• Always giving cardinal directions
• The CTA Christmas Train
  
• Walking
• $12 manicures (and 5 places to get them within a 1/2 block radius)
  
• Hating the suburbs
• Never having to shop at a mall
• $1 burger nights
• Alcohol delivery
• Beer gardens
• The Lake
• Swimming with the skyline in the background
• The winter (for real)
• Hot Dogs
• City themed bars
• Penny rides on New Year's Eve
• Zipcar
• The green river on St. Patrick's Day
• Comedy
• My Chicago friends that have become family
• and much, much more...

friendship

I am extraordinarily blessed to have some amazing people in my life. I had to just edit that sentence and take out my use of the word lucky and substitute it with blessed. I put a lot of stock into the belief that things happen for a reason. I think that we take our own path, but if something is supposed to happen or enter our life...it will find us regardless of the path we take. And, I believe that to be true for friendships. I guess I know this to be true because my own life has been shaped by the friendships in my life. I can't imagine a life without the people I have around me. And as hippy dippy as it may sound, I know they came to me because they were meant to be there. I wouldn't be who I am without them.

I was sent this video by a good friend of mine this morning and it made me cry. It is just the sweetest thing AND I feel like it proves my point.

put on your bladder control undies for this one

First, someone posted this question on Yahoo Answers:
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20081017195134AAWT7Ez

Then someone made this:



Then I died laughing.

(@vaieel i owe you my first babby for sending me this)

mission accomplished

So, remember this post about that guy who sent me a facebook message saying he didn't want to see me anymore (the day I was laid off of work)? If so, you probably remember this post about when I drunk text said dude and it resulted in a conversation that resulted in drinks. Well, drinks were had.


I went into this drinking summit with very defined boundaries. Friends. Even though my gut instinct told me that I already had too many friends and did not need to add this dude to the roster. Damn gut. Right?

Anyway, we met up for drinks at my favorite bar in the city. I wanted the home field advantage. This particular bar is small, but not too small. It is in Wrigleyville, but is not like a Wrigley bar. And, it has board games. Love. It.

I arrived five minutes later per the usual. He had already ordered me a drink. We had to stand for a while because it was packed, but I poached a table and we sat down mid drink two. We had a good time. Conversation was easy. We played Master Mind and I was a total fucking mind reading rockstar. He sucked, which gave me more pleasure than it should have. After that, we played Guess Who? and somehow I lost a round...not because he guessed first but because I messed up somewhere along the way. Not even sure how that happens. I think the game is suitable for like two year olds.

So, the good stuff? There wasn't really until the next day. We left the bar and got some pizza after having way too much to drink for having not had dinner. He had paid for all of our drinks despite my protests, but I paid for the pizza just to be clear...this wasn't a date. After pizza he got on the El and I walked home. Mission Friendship accomplished.

Well, it was about as accomplished as the time another (not so friend of mine) declared his "mission" accomplished.

The next day I get this text:

"I feel really bad about this because I like you and I wanted to give this a second try. I just don't feel like the chemistry is right with us. I wish it was...because you're such a great girl."

I don't even know how to fully verbalize what I thought at this point. Now, I never responded to his facebook I don't think we should see each other anymore message. There was nothing to say. This, however, pissed me the fuck off. This was my reply:

"Seriously? I am sort of blown away that you thought this was a second try sort of thing. We went for drinks because you asked if we could and I assumed it was as friends. Had I thought you were hoping it would be more than that I would not have gone. A second chance was never an option even if you thought there was chemistry."

Apparently you can.

true

in love...

...with my new boots.

coco...not chanel

I just watched the final episode on Hulu.com and almost cried. I have been a Conan fan forever, but what got me about this episode was his humility and his expression of gratitude to those who have supported him. Yes, he has made jokes at NBC's expense these past couple of weeks. However, in the final hour, Conan humbly spoke of his time with the network and the joy it has brought to his life. He spoke about how things don't always go as you plan or how you are told they will...and basically, said that it is alright. He then asked his fans, especially young adults, to reject the urge to be cynical. He said, "if you work really hard and you are kind, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you. Amazing things will happen." And it really was perfect.

rehab

Okay, so I totally watched the entire season of Sex Rehab with Dr. Drew online yesterday and cried my eyes out like a baby.


I have come to the conclusion that Dr. Drew is one of my favorite people on the planet. Seriously, I want to go to rehab just so I can interact with him. Please tell me I am not alone.

for rent

I got some rockin' news slipped under my door the other day. Yeah, they came to my house to deliver it! If you are thinking that I got a big check with my name on it and cameras and balloons, you may want to stop reading. You will be terribly disappointed.


Anyway, I got my lease renewal. I know what you are thinking, "It's January. Your lease doesn't end until May. Why so early?" I don't have an answer for that. I thought it was weird too. But, when I opened the package they slid under the door I was hit in the face with some awesome news. First, if I return the lease renewal by February 1st, I will get half off May's rent. And, here comes the best news of all. Sit down. My rent is GOING DOWN! Yeah! When does that ever happen? I know, like, never!

I am taking this as a sign that good things are coming down the pike and not just in the form of $2o extra a month. (This does mean that I will have to potentially endure another year of the vomiter, but I think I am okay with that.)

Just Say No

For you to be able to grasp the full effect of this post I'm going to ask that you read this: My First Blog Post Ever.

It is very important that you read that first because if you don't you won't understand why you are shaking your head back and forth and giving me that "really emily? really?" look upon reading this post.


I have a habit. Or, affinity for engaging in some late night calling or texting. Not the dirty kind...just the "I might not remember this in the morning" kind. I don't really discriminate. I will contact anyone. If you are saved in my phone, you are fair game. Be warned now. Block me or something.

Anyway, I attended several holiday functions over this past month or two. Many of these functions involved lots of holiday cheer, which I consumed. So, we appropriately queue late night calling and texting at this point. What's the harm you say? A sibling? A best friend here? An old roommate there? Nothing really. Totally harmless. Right? Wrong.

Real fast, I'm just going to say that they really should devote some time in DARE teaching kids about the dangers of drinking and dialing. Maybe Nancy Reagan will jump on board and do some Just Say No shit. She was all over that in the 80's. (P.S. I did just have to google Nancy Reagan to make sure she was still alive and available for said Just Say No campaign. Turns out she is. Also turns out that her real name is Anne Frances Robbins. Like, for real. I'm feel a little duped, Nancy Reagan. If that is even your real name...oh wait, IT ISN'T!)

Anyway, let's fast forward to the part where I discovered that douchebag's (mentioned in the post that you were required to read earlier) phone number wad still saved in my phone. That's right...we're going down that road. Totally text him. Four months later. No communication since said facebook message...not even a response. Yep. Who is awesome now?

Making matters worse, he responded the next day. Later that night he had his roommate try to pull some grammar school sleep over tactic on me as he text me and was all "who is this? I have your number saved in my phone, but no name. I'm trying to figure out if I should delete you." His fatal move was disclosing his real name when I responded, "who is this?" Yep, my next text was, "My guess is you can delete me. My other guess is that your roommate got a text from me last night and doesn't know who I am so he asked you to text me to try and figure it out instead of doing it himself." I totally felt like a rockstar and wanted to high five myself for that one. Douchebag immediately text me apologizing. He somehow tricked me into an hours worth of text exchanges during which he apologized like ten times and got me to agree to meet up for drinks some time which I thought would never really happen but as it turns out "some time" is actually Sunday night. (Imagine that last sentence said in one breath. No breaks. Fast like ripping off a band-aid.)

Yeah, you can shake your head. "Really Emily? Really?"

I'm Michelle

I feel like that last post was heavy, so I feel the need to lighten things up with a confession. I was about to type embarrassing, but I then realized that I am not embarrassed about it at all. Come on, I am sharing it with the entire internet. That's right kids, the ENTIRE internet will read this. Jealous?

Okay...here it goes.

I love the Olsen twins. And I may or may not have seen like every movie they were ever in. More like may...okay, totally have.


I think it started when I was little and would watch TGIF with my step sisters. When shows would come on we would quickly say who we were going to "be" while the show was on. Think credits rolling...my oldest step sister would loudly announce, "I'm DJ," when Candace Cameron appeared on the screen. My other step sister would always F'in jump in and claim Jodie Sweeten before I got a chance to. (But really, who's laughin' now...she turned out to be a meth addict...Jodie Sweeten. Not my step sister. Although, I haven't talked to her in a few years so don't take me at my word on that one.) Anyway, I was always stuck being Michelle, which meant I was Mary-Kate and Ashley...or both. I'm not sure how the rules worked. I hated it. I wasn't an effing baby, but at some point things turned around. It may have been To Grandmother's House We Go or Double, Double, Toil and Trouble. I can't quite be sure. All I know is they hooked me. I can't get enough. And if we ever watch Full House together, don't even try "be" Michelle. I'm her. You can be Aunt Becky or something.

my parent's daughter

I am going to pretend that I didn't take the longest blog hiatus ever and that the power cord fire thing didn't even happen. I would appreciate if you close your eyes and pretend too. Please open them again to start reading though.

There is no denying that I am my mother's daughter. I sound like her on the phone. I have her weakness for sweet foods. I stare at strangers and even smile at them sometimes if they catch me. I make up new words to songs or make songs out of things that don't need to be made into songs in the first place. I get annoyed and want to tell everyone about it. And, if you cover up her hair in pictures from about 20 years ago...it might as well be my face. There is no denying I am hers.


My dad is another story. Besides his stick straight brown hair and propensity to get overheated and break a sweat when temperatures reach 70 degrees, our similarities are harder to find. He is sometimes painfully private (to the point that he won't even tell me who he votes for in elections...even local ones). He could be outside all day long and is most days. He's not a "talk it out" kind of guy. He doesn't like change. He has blue eyes. And, he despises being in a city.

You have to squint to see the similarities.

...

It was Thanksgiving night and everyone in the house was asleep. I was laying in bed listening to music on my iPod and playing some iPod game. Right after a random pop song, Death Cab for Cutie's Bixby Cannon Bridge came through my ear buds.

Musical euphoria. I can't even think of a better way to describe it. There is something about music that can completely move my soul. Touch me and evoke the rawest of emotions. This song struck a cord and really always does. Things don't always go as planned. Sometimes your mom says that she misses your dad's family and really wishes she could be there with everyone for the holiday. Sometimes you look across the table and know that your grandfather is sick. Sometimes someone tells you there are no good memories. Sometimes you close your eyes and know that this moment will never happen again.

My dad and I were sitting in his den the other day and he put on a CD of bagpipe music. My dad has forever said that he wanted Amazing Grace and Coming Home played on the bagpipes at his funeral...as his coffin is lifted up onto a firetruck (since he has been a fireman for over 30 years...it is fitting). As we sat there, my dad told me that one day he came home from work and put this same CD on and listened and just cried. He said, "Sometimes it just feels so good to just cry. Really, cry." I've seen my dad cry a few times. I'm not one of those girls who thinks her dad is invincible. We left my dad. A lot of kids of divorced families talk about when their fathers left. Mine never did. He stayed in our house for weeks after we moved out. He stayed. And, he is like me. He hurts. He listens to sad music to cry. To feel.

So...on Thanksgiving, I was overwhelmed and so happy that this song came to me on shuffle. I just started crying. I'm thankful for a lot, but I am really sad about a lot too. I wish I could pull my sadness from my being and rid myself of it. I wish I knew how to do that, so that I didn't carry it with me. But, I'm sad. Sad about things I can't even make sentences out of. Sad about things that don't form into words and roll off the tongue. These are things you are sad about in your soul and they well up in your eyes. Sad in your stomach muscles and tightened lips. And in this song...this beautifully emotional song I can let it all go for a fleeting moment...and be thankful for that.

And, it was this that made me see it. Squinting. I saw it. Our likeness may not be physical. It may not be our mannerisms or habits. But, it is found in how we feel. Or, don't. Or, try to. We turn on a song to feel and we do. We are the same.

p.s.

The person using the computer next to me (at the public library) smells like pure grain alcohol. This= Awesome!

i'm alive and stuff

I haven't dropped off the face of the earth or anything...I know everyone was worried. I merely had a slight fire in the power cord for my laptop that has rendered me internet-less. I came to the library just to post this for you so that you can all rest easy. As soon as my ebay power cord replacement arrives I will blog your socks off.

(the above picture is a total dramatization)