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Chicago archivesSaturday, May 17, 2008
Sleepy little neighborhood
In one month, we've had a cougar shooting, a bank robbery, and today, on my very own block, a man has a stand-off with police. You know what you never want to see when you walk out your own door? Police tape sectioning off your block and a SWAT team. The dogs and I decided to get on out of there before we were allowed otherwise and made our way to dog beach. By the time we got back an hour or so later, it was all over. I talked to the guy who owns the coach house in question, and he said his tenant went nuts but that there wasn't a gun or anything. He seemed like he wanted to down play it, which I don't blame him, but I'm willing to bet he's looking for new tenants tonight. Every block has those people, though. I want to say I was shocked when the house in question was confirmed but as soon as I walked out and saw where the police concentration was I just shook my head. I've always said hi when I walked by, mostly because I live in the only multi-unit building on a block with people whose house are worth millions, and I'm sure a couple of them view me as a those people, too. There is one uppity bitch I truly hate, who never says hello, even when you're saying it and looking right at her, who looks as though she's very bitter for having chosen to stay home with the kids, and subsists on a diet of disappointment for her husband and downers. And Chardonnay. You know those sorts of women drink that by the boxful. Anyway, I've always loved my neighborhood for being so small and quiet, and the kind of place that unless you live here, you're not really familiar with it, and the number of assholes is pretty small, even for being so close to Wrigley, which attracts the town's finest assholes every spring and summer. So while we may be making headlines these days, I'm still not leaving. Posted by Erin at 11:16 PM | | filed under: Chicago Coupledom
I quickly glanced inside and saw a couple sitting on what looked like an old, ratty couch, watching television on a very large screen, entangled in each others limbs, flipping through the channel selections. By all accounts the rest of the house was very empty, and to think about a house that expensive, that massive, that empty, it immediately makes you wonder where people's priorities are. But I have learned that you don't get the luxury of questioning other people's priorities. Besides, even from that quick look, those two looked pretty content in that big house, in that little basement. ***** The other day, I was at the doctor's office and ran into an elderly couple I've seen in there before. Which officially means I'm old and sickly, because, really? Who remembers the faces of those who share her doctor? Only those who are at the doctor all of the time. They're both in Jazzy scooters and they both sort of look like each other in that way that only people who have been together an eternity can be. It was hard to tell who was there for what, or if both had appointments, until the woman asked the following question: "Do you remember the name of my medicine for my constipation?" She was the one filling out the paperwork. He paused and said, "No I don't, baby," then went back to his magazine. Several moments later she let out a gentle, muted cough and he immediately looked up to watch her. It was all very protective and instinctual. She smiled at him as she covered her mouth, he smiled back, and again went back to reading. It felt entirely too intimate for a general practitioner's office on a Wednesday afternoon. I was an interloper, no matter how unintentional. In those instances you begin to understand how it happens, how two peoples' lives can merge to become one, how two people end up looking alike, even. It's born out of all of that routine and care and kindness, each serving as a witness to the life of the other, mirroring that life back to the other. ***** Last night, under somewhat a certain amount of duress, I ended up at Excalibur (watch the music) by 11 p.m. on a perfectly fine Friday night, one in which I should have been, by all accounts, in bed, but was fully done up in about three shades of eye makeup and four shades of eyeliner because my fiance had to be there on assignment for work. We both talked about how, when we were younger, we'd drive into the city, past Excalibur and assume that, due to the line and its proximity to everywhere we were familiar with, it was the hottest place in Chicago. As locals know, it takes just one trip there in your early twenties to reveal how incredibly horrible and cheesy this place is and, if you're lucky, you'll have two amazingly horrible and cheesy nights there in your lifetime and never return ... ... unless you're fiance tells you that you're going with him for the story he has to write for the magazine. To be fair, I once made him come with me there for a freelance piece I did for his magazine, but only for the span of one drink, so I could interview some guy who said he'd be there, and certainly not to dance. He made me dance, you guys, and I can't dance. We stood back near the main level dance floor and tried to ascertain if the group of kids - and they were kids, and they even had that one girl who was terribly drunk already and gyrating up against all of her girlfriends, trying to get the crowd to believe that she was going to start making out with any one of them. My friend Jenni, who is an actual lesbian, calls those girls "Queer by Beer." The boys didn't have a chance, though they tried, and while at first I wanted to poke a whole mess of fun at these girls, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was them ten years ago, though not Ms. Queer by Beer, and traveling in a pack of people, getting drunk, dancing, making a complete fool of yourself in public, is what you need to do to figure things out for yourself, to appreciate a night on a couch on a Friday night watching TV, in bed by 11 p.m., sober. "Thank you for marrying me," Scott said, putting his arm around my waist, laughing as he watched those girls. "Oh you're welcome," I said. "But I was them once. You're just getting the improved version." ***** Thanks for the emails and IM's and Twitters and MySpace messages and Facebook posts, everyone. We're so touched by the well-wishes from everyone. Even our alma mater, and the reason for our meeting, gave us a shout out yesterday. Most of you know I'm already a total shit about email, but I'll get back to everyone. Thanks a lot, though. We're really happy too. Posted by Erin at 02:19 PM | | filed under: Chicago , Odds and ends , Wedding, marriage, love, etc. Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Get outraged, Chicagoans
The City Council of Chicago can be the biggest group of nincompoops. Honest to Pete, you'd think this was Mayberry, as opposed to the third-largest city in the country. From Save Chicago Culture: Tomorrow the council will vote to approve an ordinance that has the power to stifle creativity in Chicago's musical, theatrical, and general cultural scenes. With no public discourse or commentary, this proposal has been approved by the City Council Committee and is on the fast track to be pushed into law. It is up to us to let our elected officials know that Chicago's creative scene is too rich, too varied, and too vital to be regulated in such a blanket fashion. This ordinance will effectively shut down and paralyze any independent music, theater and other assorted live performances, the stuff this town's cultural heart is made of. A city where I can only go see Dave Matthews Band or Wicked is not the city I signed up for. Scott interviewed Ald. Brendan Reilly, 42nd ward yesterday, and is as we speak trying to get press access to the council meeting for tomorrow. He wrote a great piece on the issue at his blog, as well. Sign the Save Chicago Culture petition and keep up with the Time Out Chicago blog for the latest! Posted by Erin at 12:20 PM | | filed under: Chicago Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Poor kitty
So yesterday was a humdinger in the neighborhood. The bank was robbed and then five hours later we had a big ol' cougar. The cops shot it in the alley right behind my old apartment, the very first place I lived when I moved to Chicago. Last night after dinner, Glinny and I went on a nice long walk and ran into all sorts of neighbors who were all abuzz with what had happened. All Chicago enclaves, when put to the test, are really just like small towns that inhabit one big city. The first neighbor I ran into told me what happened, as apparently the cops shot the cat only an hour earlier. Thank Jesus I'd opted to take Glin for a walk AFTER dinner, and not before, as I'd originally planned. It's irrational, I know, but I'd have thrown myself over Glinny and let the cougar have at me before I'd let it touch my dog. About 40 minutes after hearing about what happened, we made our way towards the scene and the woman whose porch the cougar made a home in for part of the day filled me in on the details. She was on the 10 p.m. news later that night. The most entertaining part of all of it for me was not only talking to a whole ton of my neighbors, but also being able to call my Gram, who always wonders when they're "talking about Chicago on the news" if they're talking about an area close to where I live, and tell her yes. That's where I live. When I got home I sent Scott a text message to fill him in on what's going on and his response was, "People need to leave those old ladies alone." Sigh. I'm madly in love with him so it's too late to turn him in for a new model. Posted by Erin at 12:35 PM | | filed under: Chicago Sunday, March 16, 2008
Ron Huberman is dreamy
Swoon. Seriously, this is not the first time he's done this - escorted some asshole off of the L for being wretched - and we've heard of other instances where he's saved people from ... I don't know what, but it's becoming the stuff of legend. The head of the transit system needs a cape. For real. Plus, you know, he's easy on the eyes. We love him in this house. Now if he could really whip the CTA into shape ... CTA chief pulls rank on unruly passenger, Chicago Sun-Times, March 16, 2008 Posted by Erin at 07:32 AM | | filed under: Chicago Friday, January 25, 2008
Rollin' ... again!
We are all aflutter around these parts because tomorrow night is the kick off to the 2008 Windy City Rollers season!!!! That's right. I used four exclamation points to express my excitement. I said last year that I loved women's roller derby almost more than life itself and I am totally willing to stand by that. Tomorrow night's game is all I can think about and that's with knowing that Scott is taking me out on a date tonight. Seriously. Cannot wait. [EDITED TO ADD: Scratch that. My super-awesome boyfriend is taking me to Avec tonight. I'm beginning my task to try every single thing off of the Time Out Chicago 100 best things they ate and drank list. I have no hopes of hitting them all, obviously. I mean, I know at least one of the places is closed and two of the entries come out of Trotter's and Achatz's kitchens, and God knows we won't be spending any money at either places this year but! A girl can dream. And try. So yay! Avec tonight! Crispy chicken thigh!) Posted by Erin at 11:46 AM | | filed under: Chicago Thursday, January 17, 2008
Reason #34,785 why I love him
Scott is live-blogging the transit vote over at Time Out Chicago. "1:08pm: Rep. Roger Eddy (R-109th) is asking if the Rules Committee believes that the governor's ammendatory veto does not violate rule 76 which says that the bill must not be fundamentally changed. Speaker Madigan, who just called Eddy to the floor is letting the Parliamentarian answer that it does not, nor does it violate home rule. If they did, wouldn't someone have said something already?" If you're a transit-lovin' citizen (or not, even), you might want to click on over. This vote makes or breaks two bus routes I take regularly. Gah. Stupid Blago. Posted by Erin at 01:30 PM | | filed under: Chicago Thursday, January 10, 2008
Damn right!
"Even worse, Governor Blagojevich didn't demonstrate the testicular virility he claims to have by telling the bill's sponsor Rep. Julie Hamos and the other legislators that he would only approve a sales tax bill only on the condition that they included free rides for seniors, prior to its passing today. I can only speculate as to why he'd want to wait until after the General Assembly passed the bill, but considering our governor's past history of grandstanding - and desire to look like the good-guy-populist-cowboy riding in to save the day - I suspect he wanted to force legislators between a rock and a hard place: either pass the bill with revisions or rile transit riders over governmental "inaction" yet again (and get the subset of take-it-to-the-ballot-box-seniors in that group angry as well)." Scott Smith, Time Out Chicago, "Governor Blagojevich makes a bad situation worse," January 10, 2008 My boyfriend is wicked smart. Chicago Tonight needs to ask him back to talk more CTA! Posted by Erin at 04:58 PM | | filed under: Chicago Friday, January 04, 2008
Sing it, sister
Scott and I are really only addicted, really and truly, to one television program - the WGN morning news. The first texts I get in the morning from Scott usually include commentary on what's going on. Do not ask - you'd have to live in Chicago and watch these guys regularly to know what I was talking about. My sister is just as addicted. You need to do yourself a favor and read Ana Belaval's latest blog posts over at the WGN Morning News blog, especially if you're a new or soon-to-be new mother, especially if you're one of those and a professional woman who is struggling with some conflicting feelings about motherhood. She's really writing great stuff, and promises more. I've read these sorts of candid confessional-type blog entries before, but rarely, if ever, from an Emmy-winning television journalist working in mainstream media. And it's an important distinction to make and support. If we have professional women in her position, in the position and with the guts to be honest and truthful about the very real struggles that some women face, we're all better as women for it. Hell, we're better as people. Scott also weighs in on Ana's wonderful posts, though he makes more salient points regarding the impact of blogging in a way my emotional self couldn't. Posted by Erin at 07:47 AM | | filed under: Chicago Saturday, December 15, 2007
Observances from the shore
Within certain venues, I've made no secret the fact that leaving the Chicago Sun-Times was one of the harder decisions I've made in my professional life. I've left jobs before, certainly, and had little to no compunction about the decision in the same way I have about this one. To understand why, you'd have to know that the first thing I ever read, at the tender age of three, was a newspaper. You'd have to know that I worshiped Mike Royko as a little girl, and that every day I rushed home from school to read the newspaper because, back then, there was still such a thing as the afternoon paper. You'd have to know that I was told back in second grade that I was a good writer, and that my very first job, aside from cutting lawns, was as a papergirl. You would have to know that once I realized I could work at a newspaper, be in a newsroom, working at a newspaper in Chicago was the only thing I ever wanted. Newspapers have been in my blood for seemingly forever and unless you are of that ilk, who lived for the rush of the deadline and the breaking story, for the swearing and the bombastic characters, and the messy smudge of ink all over your fingertips upon flipping through tomorrow morning's edition, literally, off of the presses, it might be difficult to see the romance of it all. Newspapers, the ones in Chicago specifically, shaped the view of the life I'd hoped to have for myself as an adult. When I first left a newspaper, down in Peoria, I knew in some ways that I'd eventually end up back. Not at that paper in particular, but in the industry. I wasn't done, I knew that. Ten years later, after having had my desk in the newsroom of a Chicago daily, I certainly am. And what's sad is that I'm not sure what there would be to go back to if I somehow changed my mind. Scott sent me this yesterday afternoon and I literally felt my stomach jump up through my throat. Then I thanked my lucky stars I got out and wasn't there in that newsroom, receiving Michael Cooke's email in my own inbox, wondering who'd be the one to go. Newsrooms all over the country are starting to pillage its editorial staffs, a fact that surprises no one. My friends who remain in the business worldwide will tell you a newspaper office is a horrible place to be. The S-T's situation is notable in that it is the victim of a corrupt, money-hungry financier whose need for greed places the newspaper at a disadvantage in an already volatile climate. If any newsroom was ripe for that kind of a layoff announcement, it was the Sun-Times. And the Sun-Times isn't a perfect paper by any means - from its tawdry and tacky handling of the Stacy Peterson disappearance case to its incessant need of adding exclamation points onto nearly every front page, associations with Chicago's tabloid are not generally things of which to be proud. Both JP and Scott were overjoyed when I quit because it meant they could stop pretending not to find the Sun-Times a waste of newsprint. But it's done some great things and is filled with talented, hard-working individuals who felt the same way I always have about the privilege of working at a newspaper. When I left, there wasn't an editor - a seasoned editor, at least - who didn't come up to me and tell me that I was doing the right thing. Newsrooms aren't the places they used to be, they said with a sigh, and I am still young enough to get out while the getting is good. All this is very true, but that doesn't mean that just because I made it safely to shore that I'm relishing in watching the ship go down. Posted by Erin at 12:08 PM | | filed under: Chicago Sunday, November 04, 2007
Rollin'
Tonight, Scott, the Two Steves - two of Scott's friends who, not surprisingly, are both named "Steve" - and I went to watch the championship match of the Windy City Rollers. Women's roller derby is the most awesome thing we have ever seen in the history of forever. A pack of rabid, bad-ass women zooming around a track on roller skates, wearing shiny hot pants, torn fishnets, bruises and tattoo sleeves, beating the ever-loving crap out of each other is the way we want to spend our Sunday nights from here on out. Plus, we got to drive out to Cicero, people, and any excuse to haul my cookies out there makes it even better. Honestly, we bought t-shirts. We loved it that much. Go Hell's Bells! Posted by Erin at 10:26 PM | | filed under: Chicago Wednesday, August 01, 2007
On the attack
The other night, as I made my way from the el stop at Grand to the W Lakeshore to meet up with Shauna, I was followed by a very tall, very scary looking man. I noticed him as I passed by him. He was burly, skin ravaged by sun and blonde hair scraggly and long. His clothes - a bright orange sweatshirt and white, denim shorts - looked as though they'd seen better days, probably 15 years ago. He looked me up and down and gave me a smarmy smile, then sucked in a bit of air, but it wasn't to me. He never made eye contact with me. He did not register that I noticed him. He didn't bother with my face. To men like that, eye contact would make me more than a body he's encountering. It would make me a person. "This guy is about to follow me," I thought. One quick turn of my head later, I saw him move toward me. It was light out, the streets were crowded, but out my iPod buds came and I quickened my step to join a group of tourists - a mom, a dad, a daughter, a son or two - and stayed close by them in the hopes he'd give up his pursuit. He didn't. He was aggressive, crossing streets with me until finally my short legs were able to out pace his long ones and I think he just gave up. In truth, there wasn't much time that passed, but the blocks are long and you have to really want to get to a person and go to the trouble. I am not a paranoid. I've lived here almost a decade now; I know the difference between someone who wants to approach you for money or food and someone who is looking to do you bodily harm. I try to not take the time to ascertain about either as my personal well-being always trumps the feelings of some stranger on the street. I've been attacked before. In 2003, as I walked across my own street, with my ex-husband at my side. I would like to say that situations such as this one frighten me and scare me out of the city, but I can't. It doesn't. This is the price you pay for living in a place like Chicago. And the benefits for me outweigh these rare moments where some fucked up guy with a disturbed sense of entitlement thinks it's OK to follow me in the hopes of ... I don't know. Something. It isn't that I don't get scared. I do. I clutch my purse and steel myself. If it's the case, I force myself to forget that my feet hurt, or my head, or whatever, and push on through until I am some place safe. I make note of where I am. I try and ignore the streams of adrenaline making their way to my stomach, causing it to lift and churn and spin. I get scared - I just don't let it rule my life here and do what I can to protect myself. But nothing is foolproof. Four women have been attacked in Chicago, just a stone's throw from where I live, and the attacks seem to be related. There are, of course, the tired cries of those who bemoan the attention these attacks receive considering how many women are sexually assaulted all over the city. It's not that I don't agree with such statements but I don't live in those neighborhoods. I live here, as do the the majority of my friends, and when we have some sexual predator going after women in our neighborhood, it's news as far as I'm concerned. But that's not the most fundamental reason I think it's incredibly newsworthy. Not at all. There is a horrible, dangerous, naive assumption that my neighborhood - with it's $1 million homes and fancy restaurants and designer boutiques - is somehow safer. That somehow by virtue of all of the designer bikes and handbags, the couture, the pretty people, that we are somehow safer and protected from the dangers that go hand-in-hand with living in this city. And while I'm certainly not suggesting that any person ever asks to be a victim of a crime, there are enough people who move here, straight outta college, and think it's simply a place for the frat party to continue, but with better furniture and nicer cars. We see it all of the time. Once the The Boy and I were having dinner with some friends of ours, at a sidewalk cafe, when we noticed a very young, intoxicated girl sitting, literally, on the curb, at the corner of Roscoe and Damen. ALONE. Her legs were dangling into the gutter and she could barely sit up straight. I ran from our table to her, worried mostly that any car coming around the corner would nail her. She slurred her words and immediately told me a tale of a party she'd just left, where she'd been drinking all day, because she couldn't handle seeing her roommate's brother's girlfriend because he really loved her and it was too much and ... you get the idea. She'd left the party a half-hour before, and no one came after her. So I stayed with her until she got a hold of someone to come pick her up. She hugged me a lot. Her friends arrived and thanked me profusely. Let me be clear: no woman or man ever "asks" for "it." But I see too many people putting themselves in danger because they assume there is no danger to be had. A quick glance of the very awesome Adrian Holovaty's chicagocrime.org will show you otherwise. It's my hope they'll stop thinking this way before something happens to them. Posted by Erin at 11:04 AM | | filed under: Chicago Sunday, July 15, 2007
Who was watching Wicker Park?
Oh, we just had the best weekend. There was Tech Cocktail, Bella visiting us, and Glin's "birthday party," and seeing Matthew on his birthday, the farmer's market, a clean car, brunch at Dodo, and lots of Pitchfork Music Festival, Ali's shower, and Steve's birthday party at Old Town Ale House, and Sunday morning readings of the papers while Sen. Lindsey Graham pisses us off so much we look for things to throw at the television set. I also ran five miles, dropped another two pounds and picked up all of my dry cleaning, which taught me a very important lesson: When you let the dry cleaning pile up, it will cost you $75. I wanted to cry. Now I am tired and I must clean up my house before heading off to bed. The bills are paid, the groceries have been bought, and I'm just as happy as I know how to be. I was thinking on the ride home from work Thursday that I'm truly lucky to have so many good things in my life right now, so many good people. It isn't perfect, but it's nice. Posted by Erin at 09:46 PM | | filed under: Chicago Saturday, June 16, 2007
BlogHer Ideas ...
While I won't be attending any of the BlogHer Conference '07 events, I have heard from some people who are going, and I will be meeting up with old and new friends alike. I know someone people have been pointed towards my site for ideas when visiting our fair city, and while I like to think I yap on about some cool places, I'm certainly no way a definitive source. But you know who is? I'm a little biased - Full Disclosure: the Sun-Times News Group, by whom I am employed, owns Centerstage- but I wouldn't steer you towards it if I didn't think it serves as an excellent and user-friendly resource for All Things Chicago. Everything and anything you could possibly need and or want is all there for you. Posted by Erin at 01:22 PM | | filed under: Chicago Friday, May 25, 2007
Serve-A-Thon
So this year I started volunteering with a group here in Chicago called, smartly, Chicago Cares. If every city had an organization like this in it, I'm convinced everyone would volunteer more. In a year filled with lots of changes to my life, volunteering on a regular basis has been one of the best ones by far. I've met really awesome people and it's forced me to get beyond myself and my problems and take serious stock of things. Once you start realizing that there is a world full of people who could use you, you tend to see your worth as a person is more than just the superficial nonsense we preoccupy our lives with. I challenged my girlfriends to join me - along with my fellow Chicago Sun-Times employees - for the Chicago Cares Serve-a-Thon. So says the site: The Annual Chicago Cares Serve-a-thon is the largest single day of community service in Chicago. Thousands of volunteers will come together to paint, plant and beautify our city’s schools, parks and social service agencies. The pledges these volunteers raise will support Chicago Cares’ year-round service initiatives. It's a totally rockin' event and we're all excited and instead of the money we'd spend on going out for a Girls' Night, we're donating it to the project. And you know I never ask you guys for money, but how about just this once you toss a few bucks towards sponsoring me for the event? If you're interested, click on this link and donate away. Your money is going towards a great cause and I'd be forever grateful! As an aside, if you're a Chicagoan, consider hooking up with the fine people at Chicago Cares and start volunteering yourself! UPDATE!! Several of you have emailed me to say that your respective cities have organizations just like Chicago Cares and Elizabeth says "they're all part of the Hands On Network" and you can find a list of participating cities at their site! Posted by Erin at 11:59 AM | | filed under: Chicago Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Matt McGuire, please don't be mad at me for linking to this ...
... but I had to because, you know, it's kind of hysterical. I will buy you a drink next time we're all out, OK? Posted by Erin at 11:37 AM | | filed under: Chicago Friday, February 02, 2007
Twenty-One years later ...
... and the Super Bowl Shuffle still holds up. I was nine years old the last time the Bears went to the Super Bowl and I remember it like it was yesterday. Oh my God, it was crazy. It's no less crazy now, of course, but despite various attempts by many, there is no Super Bowl Shuffle for this Bears team. It's probably for the best. GO BEARS!!!!!! Posted by Erin at 04:32 PM | Comments (2) | filed under: Chicago Thursday, June 08, 2006
Whatcha Doing Tonight?
Posted by Erin at 06:13 AM | | filed under: Chicago Saturday, April 15, 2006
The Motion Keeps My Heart Running
One of the things about growing up in the Midwest is that the weather teaches you something about change. Not just change itself, but the act of anticipating it. I'm certain such innate lessons are gleaned in other areas of the world, places where the hint of lilacs wafting in the air on a June evening sneaks in through your car window to remind you you're alive, places where in early December the tiniest fractions from the massive drifts of newly fallen snow on a city sidewalk seep into your shoes as you and your best friend, laughing hysterically at your good fortune for finding a place to serve you a final gin and tonic in the midst of this chaos, try to navigate through it all without falling down. But I've never lived in those places. Only here. For those of us who bear witness to Mother Nature's distinct alterations, we're given glimpses of what will be. We're reminded that what seemed so commonplace and constant really isn't. We are provided with signals that seem to say, "This too shall pass," a particularly disconcerting message sometime in mid-September when children have left the streets and returned to their classrooms, no longer serving as happy, daily reminders for those of us making the long trek to our offices that we once, too, thought the most serious of injustices included no trips to the neighborhood pool without first cutting the lawn. This time of year is my favorite of all of the season changes. Even here in Chicago, living in such close proximity to Lake Michigan and the powerful gusts that accompany such geography, I can feel the wind blow across my skin and soothe me, rather than sting. I can lie across my bed at 7 p.m., curled up against a pillow, and look out the window to see the most graceful sunbeams bouncing off of the top of neighboring buildings. And, as was the case this evening, I can see a tree I've looked at every day for months on end and realize that it's dotted with the beginings of delicate pink flowers. All of this beauty, all of this excitement ... the overwhelming promise it contains. It would be lovely to bottle and keep on my shelf. I know that eventually I will take these things for granted. Whether we fight change or we embrace it, it happens and we adjust accordingly and forget we had to adjust in the first place. But it is this time of expectancy when we are truly blessed, before we've become complacent, before we've grown accustomed to ... And so it's lovely here in Chicago right now. So, so lovely. Posted by Erin at 01:43 AM | | filed under: Chicago Sunday, February 12, 2006
Some Pictures
J-Town sisters!
Saturday night we celebrated the 30th birthday of Kate, Kate who never ceases to make me laugh and think and find myself forever grateful that she's in my life. We went to Tombo and I would have stayed for the karaoke were it not for the fact that I had to get up early this morning to go on WGN with Rick Kogan.
Posted by Erin at 07:03 PM | | filed under: Chicago , Glin , Odds and ends Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Listen Up
So if any of you are up on Sunday morning and find yourself wishing that instead of nursing that hangover, readying yourselves for your church or simply going another moment without hearing the sound of my sweet, sweet voice - you're in luck. At 8 a.m. this Sunday I'm going to be on WGN-AM as a guest on Rick Kogan's Sunday Papers show. Tune your radios or Internet streams accordingly. I'm excited about this for several reasons: 1) It's WGN. For a kid from Joliet, being a guest on a WGN program is as close as it gets to nirvana. We all grew up, in some fashion, listening to this station. I would listen to it every day when I was working in podunk Illinois as a reporter, driving from small town-to-small town. 2) It's another opportunity to talk about Tales From The Scale. The sole purpose for me going on the show is the book, which leads me to the next point ... 3) The host is Rick Kogan and here in Chicago he's one of the city's most respected journalists. I've known who he was since I was a kid. I get teased for my knowledge of the city's reporters but I knew reporters the way other kids knew baseball players. When I got an email from him back in December, saying he loved the book and asked me to be on his show, I thought I was going to plotz. If this doesn't sell a single copy of Tales, it will still have been worth it to me to have met this guy. I know 8 a.m. (central standard time, of course) is awfully early but you could always just set your alarm to go off to WGN and start your final day of your weekend with me and Rick and talk about how ridiculous dieting is and whatever else strikes our fancy. I am going to try and not sound like a freak but there is a chance that I will. And you totally don't want to miss that now, do you? Posted by Erin at 09:11 PM | Comments (12) | filed under: Chicago , Odds and ends Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Mmmmm ...
So I know some people are busy at starting up a new Chicago-centric blog, mmmChicago.com. While it's technically, I think, sponsored by American Express, the editors are not beholden to the Gods of Amex. As a result, they've done a great job. Really. Corporate sponsorship is the way of the future for us bloggers and eventually other corporate-type folk will get on board with projects like this one. If you're in Chicago, or planning to visit our fair city, you should check them out. Posted by Erin at 07:00 PM | | filed under: Chicago Sunday, November 27, 2005
Got Plans Tomorrow Night?
No? Good. Come see me at 7:30 p.m. at Women & Children First bookstore. The fantastic crew at Gapers Block are once again hosting a panel discussion with yours truly serving on the panel. This time the topic is CHICK LIT. There is so, so much to be said about the chick lit genre and its place in our culture, our bookstores, our collective consciousness, our reading habits and I look forward to what we're planning to touch upon tomorrow night. In addition to myself, the panel includes: *Cris Mazza, UIC professor and coiner of the term So if you need a break from the vagaries of your typical Monday evening, head on out to Andersonville and join us. Posted by Erin at 05:52 PM | Comments (0) | filed under: Chicago , Odds and ends Friday, August 12, 2005
The Trixies May Eat Me Alive
The ONLY reason that I am on a computer in the heart of Lincoln Park on a Friday night is because I have freelance work to finish and my DSL at home is STILL not working. SBC can bite me. The only thing that is soothing the beast within is that I am no longer the ages of the girls standing outside right now at the corner, squawking and squealing and "Ohmigod"-ing themselves into a kinetic frenzy because some "bitch" is "soooo" competitive. I bet at least one of them is wearing a trucker hat. Maybe a peasant skirt if I am lucky. Oh God. One of them just mentioned a bong. It's time to go home. More later. Posted by Erin at 10:04 PM | | filed under: Chicago Friday, July 22, 2005
Full Of Author Goodness!
So on Monday I am going to be a member of a panel of authors who out-author me by the buttload but we all have one thing in common: We're Blog Crazy, baby. Or something. If you're free from 7 to 9 p.m. on Monday, why don't you make a stop on over to Lincoln Square's Sulzer Public Library and come see me, Wendy McClure, Claire Zulkey, Kevin Guilfoile and Kevin Smokler get our collective grooves on with All-Things-Literary. You know you want to. Posted by Erin at 02:15 PM | Comments (0) | filed under: Chicago , Odds and ends Sunday, July 17, 2005
I Missed The Moshing
So I stopped by the Intonation Music Festival this weekend and had a really nice time. Heard some great music, did some quality people watching and managed not to become too upset upon realizing that I had about five to eight years on everyone in the crowd. The only thing I really missed was the guy who wore a t-shirt that read "It Ain't Going To Suck Itself," a phrase that will continue to bring me an amazing combination of disgust and enjoyment for weeks to come. My friend, Julene, was the lucky girl to witness this and I can't begin to tell you how jealous I truly am. [Confidential to Rob R-H: I didn't meet Andrew Bird. I had to leave. Next time I get the chance I will ask if I can pinch his butt because that really was awesome advice.] Not much has really changed in the years it's been since I took part in that whole scene, the one where my summer schedule revolved around music festivals such as Intonation. I mean, I'm guessing that as long as there are outdoor music festivals in the summertime you are going to find every woman who keeps the patchouli manufacturers in business. I swear to God that shit is rancid. Ladies, take heed: it doesn't make you alternative and it doesn't make you smell good. It makes you smell like you live in a head shop and don't bathe. Stop it now. Mostly it was just cool to realize that I've finally gotten to the point in my life where I've ceased caring whether or not I fit in. In my khakis and black tanktop, I felt like The Man personified in a sea of ironic t-shirts, flowy peasant skirts and incredibly large sunglases. I really did wish I was smoking still, though. I didn't, of course, but I still wished. Posted by Erin at 10:15 PM | Comments (7) | filed under: Chicago Wednesday, June 22, 2005
A Public Service Plea
Posted by Erin at 04:28 PM | Comments (0) | filed under: Chicago |
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On one of my walks with Glinny last week, I happened to walk by a home that had been newly renovated but, like so many homes, had been on the market for a very long time. As I passed by, I realized the big sign posted out front, which had been bragging for months about features such as marble something-or-others and stainless-steel doohickeys, was gone. I looked closer at the house and saw a flickering light coming from the basement level windows.
