Underpacked in Phoenix

My husband and I are visiting my father-in-law in Phoenix/Mesa, AZ and I deliberately and with great calculation determined what would NOT be going into my suitcase. The hot pink Juicy Couture long sleeve hoodie, the extra pair of Citizens jeans, some long sleeve tops for the somewhat cool evening dinners. Last year on this same trip, I was overpacked and sweated my way through 2 spring training games and had sunburnt scalp (not fun!). There was no way I'd be going through that this time.

We were delayed in Chicago for 6 hours due to some rain in the area, and I could not wait to get into the warm and persistent Arizona sunshine. En route to the airport after lugging my bags around a humid city, I realize I left my new Versace tortoiseshell sunglasses at home. 1 hour later, it was my glasses. Then I couldn't remember if I atleast put a cardigan in the bag for air-conditioned restaurants. Hubby reassured me that there was no need for the cardigan -- we are going to Phoenix, land of perpetual sunshine, and we could get shades at Target. My paranoia crept back into the corner. Nothing to worry about, right? We landed at 4:30am PST, caught a few hours of sleep and woke up to a cloudy sky. No sweat; clouds are a rarity here. As we headed to breakfast, I noticed a few drops of moisture coming down. No sweat. At best, Phoenix only gets sprinkles. As I worked on my coffee, the rain started coming down a little more. By the time I finished getting a stand-in pair of shades at Tar-jay, it was a massive downpour complete with lightning and thunder.

It proceeded to rain the entire first day of our so-called "escape from Chicago's bad weather" vacation. I have been subsisting on the 1 pair of jeans I packed, a new Proenza Schoeuler for Target sweatshirt I snagged when I saw the lighning crack through the sliding doors at the store, and my trusty cashmere scarf/wrap. Never have I felt so underpacked in my life! I'm never going to bitch about how I overpacked after this trip. I would rather be prepared for anything and everything. All I can say is, thank god for Target.

Work.

I found this draft blog from a couple months ago...the topic is utterly appropriate for today's discussions...

I am currently taking a class called Business Ethics, which is really a study of business practices and all things that relate to business practices. We look at it from the very bottom up, starting with what is right and wrong, what makes people happy, etc.

Today our topic was: What is work? What is the value of Work?

As I was doing the reading for this week, it seemed quite apropos that this topic come up. After all, I wanted to take this class to help me think about why I do what I do, whether I enjoy it, whether it is something I want to continue to pursuem, and whether there are other things out there that I should pursue. That is a lot of 'whethers', but that's life...lots of questions, not always easy to answer, or maybe not something one would think to require an answer. But these are all legitimate questions that we either have or will asked ourselves at one point or another.

Working in the real world is often described as "being in the rat race", meaning we are little laborious grunts doing what we have to do to get by. No real joy can be drawn from being part of that kind of working world. But the question is: Can we ever do what we want to do and love while making good money doing it? Or is it true that if you want to do what you love, then you will probably be poor doing so?

Talk amongst yourselves!

How much am I worth?

The US government says that the unemployment rate is about 4.6% (as of 2006), but everywhere I turn there are people who are and have been out of work. I met one of the perpetually unemployed just last night at my gym. He was in his mid 40s, in sales, and can't find a job in Chicago to save his life. He started a conversation with me while I was waiting for my carry out dinner order. It went from, "what'd you order?" to "So you aren't working." The funny thing is, this guy was not working either. I have come to find that unemployed professionals are constantly trying to get leads out of casual conversations; you almost feel like you're getting mugged. I'm glad I have not been guilty of such an activity. People can't help but measure themselves up to others in their same situation. Which is why another frequent activity of the jobless is asking the question: How much am I worth?

Employers like to play the money game with you early -- when they post that job description on monster.com or speak to their recruiters. As a job seeker, you can set your value at the outset and search by that criteria. But the longer your search goes, the more your "value" may fluctuate. This is dependent on your mood for that day. When you are having a great day with interviews, etc., your value is pretty high. And on days when nothing is going on, and you are waiting for feedback or to schedule another interview, your value is low.

I've heard some stories about my parents' friends who were laid off from jobs they've had for 10-15 years. I wonder how they look at their value these days, having been out of work for 1-3 years. How do you reconcile your value (as determined by your last salary) with the current job market? It's rough out there. Should you take a job for less pay, thus decreasing your market value? Or do you hold out and wait for that perfect position, not knowing when it will come about? These are hard questions to answer.

As for my worth, my husband tells me he would pay millions for me. :) That's a pretty good start!

Snow Day!

Even though yesterday's on-slaught of snow was the second time Chicago has been pummeled with snow in 2 weeks, not including a major snowstorm in December, today is my first snow day this winter.

I'm actually having a "snow week", because I did not book any assignments this week. As you may know, I started looking for a new job in January, and signed up to do some temping through my recruiting agency to keep busy while conducting my search. Well, I've been on assignment the last 6 weeks, and good temps do not stay at home cause it is snowing outside. It has been good to get up and go to work with the rest of the world.

Sadly, snow is pretty for all of twenty minutes in the city, the time it takes for it to fall from the sky and accumulate on the trees, benches, streets, etc. Then the majority of the snow on the sidewalks, alleys, and streets becomes this dirty salty slush that destroys everything it covers. My one & only pair of Uggs has been abused this winter because of the extra salt Streets & Sanitation has had to lay down to combat the extremely cold temperatures we've experienced. And after a certain temp, salt actually doesn't work, which has resulted in several accidents all over the city.

Though I can't appreciate the current aesthetic of the snow, I am happy to sit in my warm house, watch the flakes come down while having coffee, and finally get to work on this blog!

Personality over just looks.

I'm happy that the Indianapolis Colts beat the New England Patriots to go to the Superbowl. I'm just a little tired of the Tom Brady love. Sure, he's good looking and won a few Superbowls. But that is exactly why I want someone else to have a shot. And there's no one better than Peyton Manning. No, Peyton is not the typical good-looking guy, but he's got lots of charisma and charm, as exhibited by his hilariously entertaining MasterCard commercials. He's cute in a boyish way too, but he doesn't get by on his looks, which is nice. I'd hang w/ Peyton any day over Tom Brady.

Sally and Tina sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g...

I want to let everyone know that I love my DirectTV . After a year-long battle with our condo association, we now have access to hundreds of channels worth of entertaining programming, and the killer HBO package (picture having 10 channels of HBO). I love it because I love to watch movies and tv shows, but somehow manage to miss most of them, so I have to catch up in my spare time. So anyway, I discovered a disturbing thing about my honey the other night. He is fascinated by girls kissing each other.

It was a lazy and late Sunday evening. We were watching TV while doing stupid stuff like folding laundry and filing things away. As my husband was channel surfing, he stumbled onto Real Sex, a show documenting human sexuality in various forms. Part of today's episode focused on a particular female porn actress discussing her decision to only do scenes with fellow females. Interlaced with the interview were scenes of the actress at work, and commentary on her chosen career specialty by porn industry executives. There was about 10 minutes left on this program, and so hubby continues to watch. And watch.

In these last 10 minutes, I learned more than I ever wanted to know about love scenes (or sex scene, as it was) with another female. As I was expressing my horror and disgust for what was being shown on screen, my husband sat there, very silent and ever so attentive to the screen. When I tried to get his attention to ask why it is so fascinating to watch girls kissing each other, he replied curtly, "I don't know...because all men like it, that's why." There was not further elaboration offered; he just went back to watching the show.

I wondered: Is it possible that we, as a general species, are hard-wired to like something so specific as 2 people kissing, let alone 2 women kissing? How could this be possible? As far as I can see, for every one type of thing, there are so many options. Take for example dessert. One person will like chocolate, another cake, another person creme brulee, and others will plain say they don't eat dessert (these are the folks who have not experienced all that is good in life!).

Unfortunately, regarding girls kissing one another, the answer is unequivocally, YES. I have asked many male friends about this, and it is the same answer every time. No wonder there are so many scandals involving women performing this very act. Look at Tara Conner, Miss USA, or the former Miss Nevada, Katie Rees, for that matter. When you know a little thing you do will ALWAYS get male attention, I suppose you would try to commit that act as often as possible. Especially if one were the type of woman prone to attention-mongering to begin with (read: beauty pageant contestants), starved for attention (read: comes from bad family with poor self-esteem), or just plain STUPID.

My suggestion for these girls with the bad publicity is: just because you can do something, doesn't mean you go do it! Save the raunchy sexual exploration for sleepovers with your girlfriends, not in public as you are about to be splashed on magazine covers and television. This is giving the general public the wrong message. The highly educated and successful business women, women's rights advocates, and homemakers now have more evidence that our country's gone down the crapper. Meanwhile, young girls are learning a faster way to get boys to like them, and pageant mothers across America are snickering at these poor idiots for blowing their chance at Fame!.

I don't blame men for their inevitable fascination with girl-on-girl, and I don't even have a problem with the actresses who make a career in porn. But I am really disappointed for the women who are supposed to be role models who take pride in doing charitable work with their public exposure, choosing to exploit themselves for a laugh, entertainment, or purely in bad taste.

Yes, disdain for the Boho lifestyle

I must have been fueled by hunger or caffeine withdraw when posting yesterday about the abominations of fashion facing me everyday when I walk out the door. In hindsight, the post seemed rather angsty, which I often get when I don't eat enough during the day.

Do not misunderstand the purpose of my post -- my point was not to rag (at least not viciously) about Anthropologie and the like. I realized that my post could be misconstrued as a mean criticism of mass marketing of trendy clothing, which is not all bad. I think it benefits everyone. I had two issues: 1)the premise of enabling upper-middle class women spending their money to dress like each other, and 2) spoon-feeding this bohos-in-paradise/francophile style in 5-10,000 square feet of retail.

That second realization happened as I walked past the store today. I looked at the window displays and asked myself, "What style is this place selling to the shopper?" It is clear that they are selling "one-of-a-kind items", except it's really en masse. But let's not draw attention to that. It is also clear that most of this stuff is designed to appear like you randomly reached into the closet and grabbed a handful of things to wear. Funky knits with odd prints, quirky colors, awkwardly cut pants and shirts...everything layered together into something that is supposed to be effortless, NOT bourgeois.

This what is regularly referred to as Boho. We're not talking about celebrity-styled boho cause that kind of style costs tens of thousands of dollars to achieve. True Boho style is to avoid looking like you spent a lot of money on superficial things like clothing, rather spending more on the "necessities" of life. You are to look artsy, free-spirited, and could care less about money. And so I ask you: Is it really Boho to spend $398 on a satchel purse? And does Paul & Joe really have to charge $60+ on a floral print cosmetic bag?

I guess it does if you have the money to try and look Boho, not actually be Boho.

Yuppie Housewife Fashion

I love clothes. Shoes, accessories, beauty products, etc., you name it, I probably have an affinity for it. I shop and shop often (but I'm trying to resist the urge now that I'm job hunting.) In my various jaunts through neighborhood shopping areas, I have noticed the sudden sprouting of stores geared towards a particular woman: the yuppy city housewife.

Before I get into this, I have to confess that my husband thinks we're yuppies. I am in disagreement...so let's get on with it.

This woman is in her late 20's/early 30's, with one or maybe two children under the age of 4, who drives a VW Jetta, Land Rover or some kind of SUV. She has the latest in baby stuff, be it the sling/pouch, the hi-tech double stroller, or camouflage jumpers and tees for $70 a pop. She likes to meet other moms & their babies out at the Einstein's Bagels in the neighborhood around 10:30-11:00am when they've finally managed to wrestle the kids into clean clothes and gathered all their equipment. This woman is not shy about being loud, commanding towards her children, or taking up public space on the sidewalk and in stores. She believes that if you don't have a child, then you must acquiesce to her.

Contrary to the image of the housewife as portrayed by the tv show, Desperate Housewives, these yuppie women are not what I would call fashionable. Just as Phoebe on Friends described Pottery Barn furniture as having "no soul", I would say these housewives are fashion drones because they wear what certain retailers market to them as hip. For example, while I am a fan of reasonably priced clothing, did Anthropologie really have to open up right by my house? For those of you not familiar with the brand, Anthropologie is for women who want non-conservative, tasteful, stylish, maybe slightly bohemiam...shabby chic, if you will. We're talking from clothing, books, housewares, right down to the little bar of soap you put in your bathroom. Nothing is tailored just right, it all looks a little worn, so you don't look canned, even though you are because they are mass marketing these goods nationwide via retail locations and catalog. I won't be a hypocrite and say I don't shop at the store, because I do. I have bought several candles for gifts, but I can't bring myself to love the clothes. Everything is laid out so you as a shopper do not have to do much thinking. You can pick up several items on the same table, rack and get an outfit out of it. We're talking quirky colors & prints, cuts, and materials. And because it's shown together, you think, "this must look good!" Despite my beef with the concept, the store, having only been open for 2-3 months, is doing spectacularly because of all the yuppie housewives patronizing it daily.

I'll give these women Anthropologie; they are attempting to look good, trendy even. However, I cannot excuse the ones who dig the frumpy sections of the department stores. My friend, Jen, recently got as a Christmas gift, something from the Karen Kanesection of Nordstrom. She was aghast, and so was I. Jen is a very stylish person, with a slant for European design in her clothes. I believe what she received was this odd peasant skirt which...I don't even have words for. Can anyone look good in this? I also take issue with the other items being shown, such as the crewneck mesh tee, the paisley faux wrap top, and the long denim skirt. What I find disturbing is that the target audience (aka our yuppie housewives) are being told it's ok to put all these "trends" on, often at the same time. That faux wrap top looks like someone threw up on it, and nobody, unless you are an anorexic 20 something could possibly look flattering in that denim skirt. If even the model looks crappy, why would our everyday shopper look any better?

IF you are a housewife with child(ren), looking find some stylish pieces or flirt with the latest trend, but not spend a fortune on clothing & accessories---I beg you to look at H&M, the soon-coming Zara, and the specialty designers for Target (ie. Tara Jarmon, Behnaz Sarafpour, Isaac Mizrahi). All three stores carry big trends of the day in disposable materials and a variety of cuts and colors, have many transition lines, turn product over quickly season-to-season, and won't break your bank account. H&M is also carrying some of their select, more timeless pieces in higher quality fabrics for just a fraction more on the price.

Already failing...

So, I had some potato chips just now.

Guess Resolution #2 is getting off to a bad start.

Happy New Year!

It has been months since I last posted and so much has happened since then. I'm happy to say in my first post of 2007 that I'm now a missus. We got married almost exactly 1 month ago in Mexico and honeymooned in Australia. We've only been back home for about a week, but it was a week jammed with activity. If the new year is anything like the last one, we'd better all hang on for the wild ride ahead.

Per tradition, I make a few resolutions every year and see if I get through them 12 months later. So here they are:
1) Exercise more and with more variety.
2) Give up potatoes (in all forms)
3) Try to abide by a "budget"
4) Cook more often
5) Make an effort to connect with friends regularly, especially those who I don't see often
6) Be a thoughtful wife :)
7) Read 75 books
8) Continue traveling

Girl in New York City

The last 3 days were billed as "End of My Singlehood" weekend where I, laden w/ several cute but not slutty outfits and a nice-sized budget, headed to New York City to indulge in all my single person habits of shopping, eating at fun restaurants, and having a few well-made drinks. Because said habits are actually quite harmless, I doubt I will cut back on them once I'm a married woman, but let's move on.

Friday (Day 1)
My friend, Jen D., flew out with me and after checking into our hotel (4 Points by Sheraton in Chelsea), we went to grab a bite at Corner Bistro. The place was divey and the burgers were crispy and good. We decided to walk around a bit after lunch and I just have to say this: if within 60 seconds you hit a street of never-ending shops, it's God trying to tell you something. We were on Bleeker, and it was good.

Highlights that day included:

- Getting fabulous boots from Sacco

- Almost getting kicked out of DKNY for taking this photo:

- Seeing Russell Simmons at Pastis

- Seeing a professional call girl working the room at Pastis

We rounded out our evening at the rooftop bar on top of a hotel, and went home fairly early to prepare for our big purse shopping day. Amusing sight on our way back: 2 trannies doing business by Penn Station.

Saturday (Day 2)

Something needs to be said about the availability of good food in New York...no matter where you go, there's always some great little deli around the corner, or a cute cafe for quick bites.

After getting something to eat, we headed down to Canal Street, where the daily business of wheeling and dealing was well on its way. I have been here at least once a year for the last 4 years, and it always amazes me how hard people hustle on this street. We visited a few spots (shady: back of a 1989 Dodge mini-van with wood paneling), but hit the jackpot when we met Benny. Benny is a cool dude with a killer retail location. We spent hours there, and came home with serious finds! My mother, from hundreds of miles away, managed to do some damage via cellphone. Bottom line is: If you need a fab purse, Benny's the guy.

Saturday night was a weird one for the books. After having a fun sushi meal at Nobu Next Door (which is probably more fun than Nobu itself), we decided to go to a few clubs. I had done some research on places people actually go to in New York, and felt like my selections were pretty safe. Who knew they would be jammed with lines out the door? You'd think in a big club/bar scene like New York, there'd be plenty of places for people to disperse? We didn't even make it into the 1st location because the line was down an entire city block.

Our next spot was a bar called Milk & Honey, supposedly real low key. We walked through LES to get to this place, and for those people who think LES is getting cleaned up? It's not there yet. What do we find when we get to the address? A scary door with a buzzer. The next 15 minutes were hilarious, and I'll just leave it at that. Random happening: When we scurried away from the "scary door", a weird pot-bellied, unbathed asian man in a whitebeater belched ever so appropriately as we passed him.

After that, we were all getting tired (since it was after midnight). So we hailed a cab and made our way back to the 14th st area where we had a ton of fun the night before. Here's where I tell you to beware of certain waitstaff late night if you aren't drunk enough. They are rude, incompetent, and just looking to start a fight with a potential patron. I was excited about getting a drink at a certain asian themed restaurant, but we had to leave before I punched the hostess/waiter. And I'm not even a violent person.

We surveyed our surroundings at this point and realized that any decent bar/lounge/club had a line. It was awful, and I realized that I didn't prepare enough for this trip. I would never let this happen for anyone else's party that I was planning. We finally sat down at a wine bar and did our champagne toast before dragging our tired (but cute) asses back to the hotel. Though it was a crazy night, I still think that we had fun on our adventure through some of the quirky parts of Manhattan.

Sunday (Day 3)

Thank God that Sunday is a day of rest. We got up late, lumbered down to Cafeteria for food (they made us wait...what else is new?), and got to see Dylan McDermott in the flesh while eating. Then Kim S. went home and Jen & I went back to Canal Street for one last look around. I actually think we were shopped out at this point. My luggage was seriously overweight from all the new purchases, and I was mentally exhausted trying to figure out how I was going to get it all home. Plus, I had shin splints!

We got to LaGuardia and had our last celebrity sighting of the trip: Kimora Lee Simmons (soon to be ex-Simmons) and her entourage, strutting down the terminal right past us! After that, we settled in at the gate, and hours later, made it back to Chicago. I didn't even get charged for having overweight luggage. ;)

What a trip!

What goes around.

Last Saturday was my 10-year high school reunion. It was organized by the Class of 1996 reunion committee, and took place at The Grand Central in Lincoln Park. I was listed as a "missing" classmate.

Where was I? At the same time the reunion was happening, I was in the North suburbs, watching my friend Coleen get married. If I wasn't at the wedding, I'm not sure if I would have gotten dressed up to see my former classmates. Part of me was replaying Romy & Michele's High School Reunion in my head (which by the way, was an entertaining movie). While I was neither Romy nor Michele in high school, it was still a slightly angsty time in my young life. There were a few notable "goods" then: I met my best friend Alison, developed a strong interest in social sciences and double majored in history/poli-sci at college, and the studly Humanities teacher who inspired a newfound respect for learning about ancient civilizations and made time fly by in class. The rest of it--teenage hormones, boy/girl drama, social confusion/embarassment, etc. etc--that stuff I could do without.

Lucky for me Alison decided to take it upon herself to drop in on the party and give me the details afterwards. I'm surprised to say that I was actually interested to hear how some people turned out.

The good news is: karma is a bitch. The first thing she pointed out and repeated several times is that the girls who were the "Queen Bees" of our class were no longer all that. Apparently, the last decade was not kind to some of their waistlines, fashion sense, and/or general abilities to groom themselves properly. Of all the women that attended, 5 or 6 looked like they were doing well. This was a huge victory for Alison and the rest of us who were traumatized by the perfectly hairsprayed fluffy hair, good lip gloss, and just-right outfits. These were also the girls that drank on weekends, were maybe a little fast (to their advantage) and had cute boys admiring them. We never felt like we could measure up to them. But here they are, looking less than perfect, looking you up and down, and some begrudingly telling you that you look fabulous. Because you do.

Another piece of good news: A lot of guys in high school were late bloomers. Those boys who were shy, slightly dorky, geeks, clumsy, whatever...they turned out handsome, sucessful, with great personalities. The potential for doing bigger things and the personality was there in each of them, but it took a little longer for them to grow into it. For the better, I think. It's like aging a fine wine. Maybe it cause a little grief back then, but like for the girls, things finally evened out for them, and now they are on par if not above the people they admired. And that is kind of nice.

Finally we get to the good-looking ones. Alison ran into her big crush (one of the good looking ones) who tormented her mercilessly for 4 years. It was pointed out to him that he didn't make her life easy in their mutual classes, and he admitted that was true but it was because he had a crush on her! The two spent the rest of the evening chatting, and were joined by his fellow good-looking friends of high school. Said friends couldn't stop fawning over her, telling her how wonderful she looked, and how different she was from back then. This I find the most ironic. Clearlly Alison has evolved from high school and blossomed into the wonderful person she was meant to be, and these guys who we secretly crushed on from afar years and years ago stayed the same. Not more interesting, more successful, and certainly not any less of any of it. But they finally really see and can't stop hitting on the girl they never noticed or wouldn't consider spending time talking to 10 years ago. Vindication!

This reunion got me thinking alot about who I am and how I got here. There were plenty of good moments to remember, coupled with some stinging ones as well. Both are needed to build character, as people like to say. It's a little scary how high school can affect your thinking and how the mentality and the cliques that build carry over into real life. By real life I mean one that is outside of a fish bowl such as high school, and sometimes even college. We get so caught up in the ethos of those particular systems because we're supposed to have this collective experience, and then what? What happens after you leave the pond?

Which begs the question: Do we ever really grow out of who we are then? I'd like to think so, but you can identify types of people everywhere you go, even in your workplace. At one of my former jobs, our office was run kind of like a mini-high school or fraternity. You could visualize who was the Big Man on Campus, the Popular Girl, the Social Director, the Drama geek...which can be a whole other post altogether.

Sometimes I wish I could do things over again with some knowledge of what I know now; there are so many things I'd do differently. But I can't, so I'm just going to have to save up the wise words for my children one day.

Age.

Aging is a funny thing. It happens when you aren't really looking. So much of our habits and perspectives are based on what part we are at in our lives. I never thought much about it until recently, when I realized that truly, I am getting older.

There are certain "great" ages, and some not so great. For awhile there, I was stuck at 18. Years 19 and 20 were blurry because while I can do so much more as a person, I was not 21. Couldn't drink, party, whatever. Not that I necessarily wanted to; it was more about having the choice of. Then I was happily 24. It was a good age because I was legitimate for the first time as an adult, no longer in school and with a decent 2+ years of work experience behind me. I lingered for a bit at 26, only because it seemed better than 25, and I had a solid career with a great relationship. Unfortunately, my life should have more purpose, says my dad, who likes to remind me that all of his sisters had atleast one child by the age of 20. My mother chimes in that she had me when she was 25. Not a chance in hell, I always shoot back.

27 has been hugely memorable because of so many things: the mind-blowing success of my job, becoming someone's fiancee with a wedding to plan, the conclusion of my job, not to mention traveling, friends with weddings & babies...I've probably been operating on adrenaline and emotions for the last 11 months.

27 has also memorable because it's the first time that my age has shown. Nothing stings more than the first time you are referred to as "ma'am". Or when you walk down the street and wonder "what is wrong with these kids who don't dress appropriately for the weather", or "why are they so sloppy?"

I have been repeatedly "ma'am"ed in the last two months. The first time was at a White Sox game. I was eating an ice cream sundae on the Club Level and I heard someone say, "Ma'am? Ma'am?" I'm not really paying attention because I know it can't possibly be someone talking to me. Then I got tapped in the shoulder. The kid sitting next to me wanted to know where I got the ice cream. I almost didn't answer him because I was in shock. The other times have been at stores, be it at a pharmacy or standing in line for books -- it's "ma'am" this, and "ma'am" that. Consider me officially scared.

The other day I took a good look in the mirror and noticed my face seemed different. My cheeks were not as puffy, more refined. My eyes and nose, which I used to hate because they seemed so tiny and inconsequential appeared distinct, like they were finally right. It was me, and yet it didn't seem like me. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Days later, when I caught myself in the mirror again, I saw myself and decided that I was fine with it. I wouldn't trade away the lessons I've learned and the confidence I have now for a few less fine lines or to look a couple years younger. The bottomline is, age happens. It's the people who let it get them down or make them paranoid that suffer the most; those people who are the advertiser's dream consumer: people who love to buy products being hawked by the people of "mature age" on television and in magazines, so certain we need more hair, less hair, to cleans/purify/exfoliate/massage -- do whatever it takes to turn.

Don't get me wrong, it still gets me a little that there are people out there who see me as old. I feel this a lot when I am walking around downtown among my fellow students at the university. But it's true, I have had more worldy experience than them, and they in turn look young in my eyes. And that's fine.

Weekly anxiety

I'm feeling anxiety right now, and it's something that's going to sit in the bottom of my stomach every week, Monday through Saturday. There's one question that fuels this anxiety, and that is: what am I going to do with my fantasy football team this week?

Yes, fantasy football, or FF cause it's faster to type. This is my 2nd year playing fantasy football in a league that one of my friends put together. We play for no money, just bragging rights. Last year, I placed first in the regular season; second in the playoffs. I am obligated to mention we only had 8 teams which means it's virtually impossible to get bad players. I made a killing in the draft with LaDainian Tomlinson, and my personal favorites: Carson Palmer, Rudi Johnson, and Chad Johnson (aka the Cincinnati "Triplets"). It was hard to have a bad season when you get those players.

Before I get all geeked out and start yammering about the intricasies of FF, let me get back to the anxiety. Somehow, by the time we were doing the draft, our league had ballooned to 14 teams. The ideal situation is 10 or 12 as there were still unchosen players out there you could go to during the season who might do well. But with 14, we'd have to dig deep and speculate a lot more on who might turn out to be a great player.

I got to pick 11th, which isn't great. I think my team is just ok this year, and there are lots of question marks...which brings me back to that queasy feeling in my stomach. After the first week of games, I don't know if I'll do very well at all. What happened to my running backs? Am I really going to rely on my kicker to score the majority of my points? Or should I start add/dropping players because some of them just plain sucked in week 1? Gah!

Raindrops keep falling on my head.

Here's the thing about the fall season in Chicago...you're going to get some rainy days. I appreciate that because I don't mind rainy. It's good for the environment, and it brings a little variety to life. My problem is with the weatherman.

It doesn't matter what channel's weather man we're talking about, because even the great Tom Skilling has been off on occassion. Ask anyone on the street and he/she will tell you that the weather men in this town don't give accurate forecasts. And because they don't, I find myself ill-prepared to face the world. Within 5 minutes of stepping outside, the pant legs are soaked. My shoes are soggy (which is just gross. And even if I manage to bring an umbrella with me, the "light shower" the weatherman has told me about in detail in the morning news is actually a raging storm, with thunder, lightning -- the works. I look like I never finished my shower.

This happened to me on a Monday about a week ago. Chicago was pelted with rain, it was coming down like buckets with evil wind blowing every which way. On that particular day, I had doctors appointments and several errands to run. I wore some tasteful but appropriate Pumas knowing that I would be walking quite a bit, and also on some level that it was going to be wet outside. I had my umbrella ready. Apparently I was not the only one who didn't get the memo that it was going to be so awful. It was that day which prompted me to buy these critter wellies from J. Crew ($48). They come in plain navy or black, Morton Salt yellow with funky laces, and a pretty partial wool upper which may only be available by catalog.

Style-wise, I'm not totally sold on the rubber boots, though the little hound dog pattern is very East Coast prep. I figured with some argyle socks I might just pull off the look they are selling in the catalog. Functionally, they keep my feet warm and dry, and that's all that really matters when it's sopping wet outside.

It was wet outside this morning, and my fiance was experiencing delays at National Airport in Washingto DC, which usually meant that there was going to be some bad weather here. Were we supposed to get more rain? The weather men told me the majority of the rain was to end by mid to late morning with possible scattered showers in the afternoon. I checked the radar before I left the house. It looked like things were clearing up, so I decided not to lug my umbrella around since I brought it everywhere yesterday though it never rained. So why was I even surprised when I walked out of class this evening that it was pouring outside? In fact, it had been pouring for over an hour. This girl ran across the street to the Walgreens and shelled out the $15 they were charging for another umbrella.

The rain stopped 5 minutes later.

In the beginning...

Hello to my very select blog readers!

Welcome to the inaugural post of my new blog. My previous effort was abandoned two months into the project when a bunch of things in my life changed. I took a break from a day job, started working in earnest on the plans for my pending nuptials, and decided to become a student again. My friend Sue P. (fellow blogger and playwright) reminded me about the old blog, and I see now that I lost interest writing it because it wasn't thought out. I didn't have any idea of my purpose and what format I wanted to use. Since then, I have had a chance to look through some good blogs, and hopefully come up with a better way to pull things together. Then Sue and I started talking and we both decided to blog more, so here I am...clik clak.

This blog is generally about the people, places, events, news items, things, etc. that I come across as I go about my daily life. It may be trivial, amusing, serious, sarcastic -- whatever I'm feeling when I pull out my laptop to write. Once I get a better digital camera I'll incorporate more pictures taken personally into all this. In the mean time, you will find;

● better formatting (I'm starting to get the hang of this system!)

● pics of my subjects, courtesy of the world wide web

● reference links of significant people, places, or things to their appropriate entry in Wikipedia for your reference.

● bolding names for props

● bolding things you might want to looking up but I don't feel like linking


I hope to write in everyday...we'll see how it goes. Let's hope the well doesn't run dry!