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Odds and ends archivesMonday, July 21, 2008
When Irish Eyes are Smiling
Me: ... I want to name our kids Mary Catherine and Sean Patrick. We'll call the girl "Kate," because you already said you didn't want to call our daughter "Mary Kate" because it would remind you of that Olsen sister. Him: Jesus, Erin. Mary Catherine and Sean Patrick? We might as well name one of them "Potato Guinness." Me: You already said you were OK with Mary Catherine! What about my dead mother! Him: Your dead mother? Oh my God. Now you're being Irish-Catholic on top of this. Your dead mother ... Me: What? And my grandmother! And my sister! I mean, they're not dead but ... Him: That's it. We're just naming them all "Lou Holtz." Posted by Erin at 11:28 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, July 18, 2008
Changes. A round up.
1) I am getting married in three months. Posted by Erin at 07:10 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Sunday, July 06, 2008
New adventures
I don't mean to get all mysterious and then drop off the face of the earth. Really I don't. But in the past month, I've been here at Fohboh when I'm not at work. What is Fohboh? Well, it's only the most delightful, fantastic, amazing and wonderful social networking site dealing with All-Things-Foodservice. And I am their Director of Community Development. Yup. I went off and got myself hooked up with a really awesome job where I get paid to hang out online with other folks. It only took me about ten years, but thanks to a former colleague of mine at the restaurant magazine where I used to work, it's finally happened. I get up at 5:30 a.m. and work until I have to go to my already-busy full-time job, where I work all day there, breaking at lunch to take phone calls for FohBoh, then finish out my day till all my work is done there. After I get home, I start working all over again until I make myself stop, which is usually by 9 p.m. at the latest. Since you all don't pay me to blog, I figured you'd understand because everyone else is. The new contract position is so much fun, though, it makes my teeth hurt, and they're the most fun folks, and if you're in the restaurant/foodservice industry, you should come on over and join the conversation because we're growing by the leaps and bounds. I'm so proud of what we're doing over there, and I'm proud to have such a huge part in making that happen. But obviously it's a lot of work, and I'm very tired, but Scott and I reasoned, at least we did at first, that the window was closing on an offer like this (they came to me), especially as the medium evolves, and now, what with us with no kids and other responsibilities, was the time to take it. But, yeah. I'm tired. Other than the exciting job news, life is beautiful all around. We planted flowers and vegetables and enjoy them in our backyard often. We're constantly surrounded by good friends and family and good news. We're having a lot of adventures, as Scott likes to say, and we toast our good fortune in having them every chance we get. Our wedding plans are finished, and Scott is picking up our wedding bands this week. The deposit for our honeymoon is down, and we've already got three big trips planned for the next year. Our unofficial countdown has begun, until Scott moves in here for good, which is very shortly, thank God. We were glad that we didn't move in with each other until we got married (or until very shortly before, as the case is) but I'm pretty tired of having to say "good bye" every Sunday instead of "good night." Posted by Erin at 09:42 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Saturday, May 17, 2008
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. Thursday, May 15, 2008
If at first you don't succeed
I met Scott before I actually met Scott. We'd both worked as editors for Chicagoist, a Chicago-centric blog owned by the fine folks at Gothamist in New York City. Back then, Chicagoist was very much a start-up production, not the uber-popular local blog it's become. Back then, there were only a handful of us writing the thing and it meant that we all got to be fast friends. Beginning in November that year, long emails would frantically fly back and forth amongst a small group of us at the site, all day long. There was much planning and strategy going on, as far as the site was concerned, but mostly the communication consisted of me and my seven new best friends cracking each other up. Never in my life had I experienced such an instant connection between such distinctly different people. Especially considering it would be several months before I'd see any of them face-to-face. When March finally rolled around, Rachelle, the site's editor, called a gathering for brunch and we all met in person, finally, one Saturday morning at Wishbone. There were a whole slew of people there - I think almost 15 at that point - but it's safe to say that all I really remember is meeting Scott. Despite never having laid eyes on each other, he came right up to me and hugged me, an act for which he later apologized but explained that he'd felt like he'd known me my whole life and it seemed perfectly natural. A fact which I've only recently recounted, and certainly did not in the immediate, subsequent months of that meeting, is that in that instant I knew too. Only I knew in a bigger, more all-encompassing way that knowing him was going to change my life completely. I'm hesitant to say that I was "hit by lightning," because it was much more subtle than that. Besides, such a turn of phrase implies something rather bombastic. The knowing kind of rolled over me like a very gentle wave, and what was once true was no longer and I was completely at peace with such a change in my reality. He became the very best friend I've ever had. I never believed in fate or destiny. I am of sturdy Midwestern - nay, Joliet - stock, I'm like a Mullingar heifer, really, and we don't have the time or the patience for romantic notions. If we wanted any of that we might as well move to California. Besides, you can travel to the farthest country imaginable and it still wouldn't matter because ultimately you just want folks back home to validate your existence in some fashion. Validation is in the water in Joliet like so many fluoride compounds. But instead of something beneficial like reducing tooth decay, all you get is anxious and susceptible to caring too much about what everyone else thinks. I don't necessarily blame the town in which I grew up for my predicaments, or my parents, or myself. I was ripe for the picking, and you throw such an insecure person into a community where pack mentality is king? It's bound to cause lots of problems for someone who lacks a finely honed sense-of-self with which to wiggle out from under. There isn't really anyone to blame for that inability, either. I had a rough adolescence and the only thing I got out of that experience was the desperate, awful, painful need for things to just finally be OK, no matter what I had to do to make that happen. You know that feeling? Of wanting everything to be OK, nothing more, nothing less? For almost twenty years I lived my life in service of achieving the moment where I'd finally be able to exhale and feel that everyone and everything was ... ... OK.
Posted by Erin at 10:46 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends , Wedding, marriage, love, etc. Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Baby Chase
We walked in the door and he ran up to me screaming and wrapped his little arms around my legs. Later on, he insisted on sitting next to me on the couch, pillow tucked on our laps, shovel at our side, Halloween book being read. This little guy loves books more than anything. I couldn't believe how he cuddled up next to me. I only see him a couple of times every month; living an hour and a half away is just far enough that I don't get to see him, or his cousin, Aidan, my other nephew, nearly as much as I'd like. My heart melted all over the place. Scott said he could hear my uterus thumping. Mostly I just liked getting to know Chase a bit better that day. He's so sweet. Posted by Erin at 09:49 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Can't think of a title here
April has not been the most prolific of months for me. I just checked this blog and realized there were just a handful of posts, none of them particularly revealing or interesting, save for the one about Omar and his daughter. I am so envious of women like my friend Carissa, and her friend Amy, who take pictures and write gracefully, lyrically, as though being a creative person is an honor and a gift and the act of creation is reverent and holy. As opposed to how I tend to view my own brand of creativity, which seems to possess all of the grace of a monster truck rally. Each, I know, has it's place. One isn't necessarily better than the other. Both are necessary in the grand scheme. I just wish I could be prettier about it sometimes. I turned 32 last week to much fanfare with my boyfriend. It was the sort of fun-filled, jam-packed day that I could have only been provided by someone who knows me well. There was Jesus, booze, burgers and full-frontal nudity. Plus an hour-long massage at a spa and a cheese plate. It was not a bad way to usher in a new year especially if you like gratuitous penis shots in your movies, which I do. I have been trying to be nicer to myself. All of this discontent I feel needs a new home, preferably one several blocks away. I am always nervous and dissatisfied, mostly manifesting itself in the state of my body. Which is silly. This winter, in an effort to combat the cold and to avoid sloth completely since I'd lost total interest in running indoors, I began lifting weights. As it stands, my body is stronger than its ever been, with real muscles everywhere. But you get a photo in front of me, wherein I'm caught at an unflattering angle, and I spazz out completely, for days on end. One of these days it will have to be OK that I am not perfect. Maybe when I'm 42? I really need to go back to yoga. Work continues to be amazing and lovely and challenging and filled with kind people who do things like make me margaritas for my birthday and volunteer to help me pick out shoes for soon-to-be dress purchases. I like these people, these new friends. I like working with them and creating with them and they've helped me to navigate through this new world where words like "engagement" and "agency" are relatively new to me, but make me feel pretty grown up. Newsrooms, it's probably not surprising to you, were pretty juvenile in every way you can think of. Agency life has its moments, to be sure, but it doesn't make me want to run in the bathroom and hide like Lynn Sweet once did to me when she didn't get her way. But mostly my days have been the same, Glinny starts whining when the sun comes up, not to go out, but so that I'll wake up and cuddle up with her. She plops her entire body down onto mine and rests her head in the crook of my arm. Afterwards we start our routine, we part ways, I return later and ask her how her day was. It's usually pretty restful, to be honest. If it's not pouring rain or stupidly cold, we go for walks in the neighborhood. Sometimes I leave to go out - actually I do this more often than not, as I never feel like I'm ever caught up with seeing friends - but other times we just sit on the couch and yell at Tyra Banks or Top Chef or some other Bravo show. Things feel rather suspended at the moment, which is not a bad thing. I'm waiting for the tide to turn, for things to change again, just after I'd gotten so used to taking up so much space. Posted by Erin at 04:51 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, April 11, 2008
I <3 Nintendo
The one thing, the one toy, that we always, always, without fail, had were video games. There is this great picture of me (it really is great) from when I was probably five or six, Atari joystick in hand, my two cousins crowded around me, in a red velvet dress, white tights, black patent-leather shoes, sitting cross-legged, playing a video game. And what makes it so funny is the look on my face. Never before have you seen a more determined little kid. Scott says that the reason he loves that picture so much is that I still get that same look on my face whenever you get a controller in my hand. I love video games, I love computers, I love All Things Electronic. JP, it should noted, was the one who made sure we had video games in the house. Mostly because he loved them as much as we did. The man was a Top Gun master. I've told the stories of how my father and I bonded over our shared love for gadgetry, and the summer I solved The Legend of Zelda was, no joke, an event in our family. So it was with great happiness and no hesitation whatsoever when my friend Rachelle, over dinner a month ago, told me the nice folks at Nintendo had contacted her about having something called a "Girlfriend's Guide To Gaming" night. I'll spare you all of the details, but in a relatively shrewd marketing move, Nintendo set up this chic little gaming night in a pretty loft in the West Loop, all decorated with white candles and white flower arrangements. The gave us fancy food, drinks, candy and introduced us to the joy of the Nintendo DS. They also set up a couple of Wii stations. By the end of the night, they gave us each a free DS Lite and a copy of Brain Game 2. How awesome is that? It was the most magical night of my life. Well, almost. But pretty close. It looked as though I was the only woman there who didn't have to be convinced to go by her husband or boyfriend. Honestly, nothing could have kept me from that party, or that gaming console, and the only reason I actually chose the pink DS Lite is because I know there is going to eventually be a Battle Royale for it in our house and the more I can do to lessen Scott's desire to get his hands on it, the better. Posted by Erin at 01:07 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, April 04, 2008
Vegas, baby
Vegas was, admittedly, better this time around. I'm still not much of a fan - honest to Pete, there is nothing there to do to pass time if you're not interested in live spectacles of any sort. And I know: if you're not into spectacle, don't go to Vegas. And I promise you, I wouldn't. But I have to go, per my whole, you know, employment arrangement with the folks who deposit money into my bank accounts every other week. I still found things to do to pass the time once work was over. Even before then. My favorite part about the whole trip was probably Sunday, sitting at DB Brasserie, drinking wine and eating some amazing tuna tartare, listening to an animated frog "lip sync" Louie Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World." I decided right then and there I'd make the best of it because, let's be honest, how many people get to do this sort of thing? Not many. Really and truly, in the grand scheme of things, I'm lucky to have been able to visit so many places on someone else's dime. (As an aside, I'm not a hater, really I'm not, but a certain uber blogger and her lovely husband need to stop with all of the complaining. About, as a friend mentioned, things they control. I'm starting to wonder if they can use a writing mechanism other than whining to explain what's going on in their lives. The device has jumped the couch.) From a work perspective, the trip was very productive and while I'm not an engineer or scientist, as most of the folks in my client's industry are, I'm beginning to have a much better understanding of things such as ball grid arrays and soldering. Also? I got to hear the inventor of the Roomba speak and he was a hoot. Personally I was probably the most well-rested individual in Vegas, as I think I was in bed by 9:30 p.m. every night, and up by 5:30 a.m. every day. I ran the strip - but only once because I am pretty sure my efforts to run Sunday's Shamrock Shuffle in under an hour screwed up my IT band. I managed to run it in 57:25, but also managed to injure myself. After a four-mile run on Tuesday morning, I called it quits the rest of my stay. I've hurt my IT band before, and it sucks, and I wasn't about to take any chances with the season just starting. I did walk a lot at night, and found a couple of dresses on sale, each only $25. I walked around for a long time at the Bellagio, smelling the flowers and taking pictures. It was so nice to spend some time in warm weather, just to feel even a smidge of sunshine. I would step outside in between sessions at the conference and just breath deeply. I played the slots, only once though. With about ten pulls I won $50 after putting $20 in. I cashed out after that. I'm not a gambler and the whole process of sitting there, punching a button on a noisy, crass machine seemed awfully sad. Maybe if you're there with people, on vacation, who are drinking with you, standing around you, cheering you on as though you had something to do with it? Maybe then it would seem less depressing. Mostly gambling reminds me of these really bougie, quasi-relatives of mine, whom I haven't spoken to in years, and anything I associate with those people is reason enough to avoid. It was still nice to win something, though. There was some pool time, and one day after work I saddled up next to the pool to take in the sun and the palm trees and had a creepy Italian man in Speedos saddle up next to me. As an added bonus, he turned out to be a racist creepy Italian man in Speedos. I won't repeat for you what he had to say about the Obamas, and African-Americans as a whole, but let's just say that with the direction he was heading in, I was seriously waiting for him to let loose with, "What more do they want from us?" After his tirade, he pummeled me with the sort of questions one only asks so he or she can talk about him or herself. He managed to make it clear that he was "very wealthy" and "building a home in South Hampton" and "what did [my] week look like?" After I'd reached my breaking point, and could finally get a word in edge-wise, I told him I wanted to just read my book. In response he started to do push ups next to my lounge chair. That's right push ups. He was the last of three men to hit on me this week. I am not the sort of woman to get hit on, so apparently something was in the air and if you had breasts and were in Las Vegas, look out. One from the plane, sitting next to me, kept invading my personal space, asking me if I was here for "business or pleasure." The other literally got up in my face and stopped me after I was finishing up my run. He was German, so I had a hard time understanding him. But I could understand him staring at my breasts though. I'd had my headlights on. Obviously an invitation. Aside from that, not a bad trip. I'm glad to be home. Posted by Erin at 07:34 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, March 28, 2008
Still not perfect, Random House, but with less swearing
So I'm not the only one who is flipping out mad about Random House and its decision to not only continue with the preposterous use of a clothing size as a character descriptor in the Sweet Valley High series of young adult books being re-released by the behemoth book publisher, but also to lower that number. The perfect size, it seems, is actually a four, not a six, as it was twenty years ago. I know my previous post was riddled with more f-bombs than you can shake a stick at. My family is, no doubt, sighing deeply. My reaction was visceral, especially considering that it's been a tough winter, one that's found me struggling with my own body as it continues to adjust to thyroid medication. Five-to-seven pounds may not sound like a big deal to be gaining in three months, but when you work out as much as I do, and adhere to a pretty healthy, moderate diet, it's tough not to have all of your old body image issues surface when all of that effort produces, well, nothing because of the little blue pill you take every morning. But all that said, I'm still angry about the language in the books. And by the emails and Twitters I received, I'm not the only one out there. Some of you sent emails last night to Noreen Marchisi and Kathy Dunn, and obviously, now, you can too if the spirit moves you. I'm sure as much as anything that the SVH series isn't the only YA book out there that elects to use something such as a clothing size to describe its main characters. There is nothing inherently wrong with it, and there is nothing wrong with describing the body type of a main character in a book, fat or thin. What irks me is how that size, and therefore that body type, is quantified. In the canon of the series itself, I've never understood the importance of pointing out their clothing size, if only to forcibly hammer home the point that the Wakefield twins are conventionally attractive girls. But the idea of calling it "perfect?" Really? Do we have to keep using such irresponsible language? The fact that they've set that standard of perfection to an even lower size, one many girls simply can't fit into, is just cruel. And as far as I'm concerned, if it is one more contribution to the cacophony of messages that serve to distort and destroy a young girl's self-esteem, no matter how seemingly innocuous, it's one contribution too many. I'm sure there are other books that use similar language, but this is the one that I grew up reading, one that I consider an influence in how I viewed myself. And it's the one whose publicist and publicity manager issued a press release touting the offensive phrase itself. C'mon, Random House. Drop the the three little words and live with yourself a bit longer and more peacefully. Don't be such simple-minded assholes. Posted by Erin at 07:55 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, March 24, 2008
In case you were wondering ...
... why you heard fireworks and jubilation sometime around noon yesterday, it was because my two-year-old nephew, Aidan, said "Aunt Erin" for the first time after Easter brunch. It's pretty much all I talked about for the remainder of the day. We had a great weekend. At one point Saturday morning, as we drank our third cup of coffee, Scott mentioned that he was actually relaxed, and that for once we didn't have anything to do, and it was the nicest feeling ever. We spent the entire afternoon on the couch, drinking coffee and talking. Planning. Later in the evening, after we'd dropped Glin off at my sister's and headed to Joliet, we talked more over dinner and ate surprisingly delicious steaks and giggled a lot about All Things J-Town. Easter was lovely, even if the choir at my parents' church was not, oy, and we got to spend some extra time with my grandma at her house before we were off to Scott's dad's for Easter dinner, and by the time we were checking out at the Jewel, as the day ended, when Scott leaned in to kiss my cheek as the last of our groceries were being bagged, I felt myself being reminded what it was like to be happy, and not anxious, worried, stressed or upset. Just happy. The message that probably gets lost in all of the recapping I've been doing about my divorce as of late is that there was a lot of happiness in there. Maybe within the relationship there wasn't the kind of happiness I ultimately saw for myself in a lasting marriage, but there was happiness and contentment overall and it's as important to acknowledge that as the sadder elements I kept hidden, otherwise I'd have to question my judgment entirely. Finally, there is happiness again. Contentment. A whole brand of it I'd hoped for and eventually seemed to have received. Posted by Erin at 07:39 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Best
I bought two Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs and lo' they were amazing. Seriously. I don't know if there is anything better. If you ever want to get on my good side, all you need to do is present me with one of these. Or two. Or a whole multi-pack package. Or two packages. Whatever you think is best. Posted by Erin at 07:35 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, March 03, 2008
Thirty-three is the burger birthday
He's been saying, on occasion, that he's going to be "32," to which I gleefully remind him that, no, he's an entire year older than that, a move that I have to admit endears me to him to no end. I commented to my girlfriends over the weekend that the person I fell in love with and the person I am with now are two different people. He says the same about me, too. It's easy to love someone before you learn what a gigantic pain-in-the-ass he or she is. But the big picture view of me and Scott is - and I've said this before, I know - there is no one else on earth for whom I'd do the heavy lifting that comes with making a relationship work. He's just the best friend I've ever had and I knew it from the moment I met him that he'd change my life. Tonight I'm taking him out for burgers to show my appreciation for all that he does. I can't think of any better way to let him know I love him than with beef, bacon and cheese. And by posting this terribly dorky picture of the two of us from September, when we were sharing a platter of crabs during a trip to Virginia for a wedding. Bibs! Butter! Love! We have it all. Happy birthday, B! Posted by Erin at 11:15 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, February 18, 2008
Schuyler's Monster
My very good friend Rob has a book hitting store shelves tomorrow. It's called "Schuyler's Monster" and you all need to go and buy it. And not just because I make an appearance in the book, or because Rob makes me sound like the nicest person ever in it - both of which are, of course, impossibly true. I kid, I kid. Well, about the latter. No, you need to go and buy Rob's book because he's not only a talented, wonderful writer but also - and most importantly - because stories like Schuyler's aren't told nearly enough. It's not my place - nor my intention - to dog on other books about broken kids (as Rob likes to call them), but it's all too often that these kids are discussed in fluffy, overwrought terms. Schuyler, like many kids with disabilities to deal with, is a scrappy little fighter. She doesn't need anyone to call her "Angel" or similar descriptions. Knowing Schuyler, she'd prefer "Ninja." Seriously. The kid is a fighter. And takes shit from no one. You want an example of girl power, well, Schuyler's your girl. It's been several years since the Rummel-Hudson clan stayed at my house that fateful week when they learned that what they'd feared would be the worst was the reality. From my father on down, everyone in my life knew what a nerve-wracking time that was for me. I never told them how nervous I was, and when you read Rob's book, you'd never know it either. I was so worried about being the right kind of support for them - I cooked a lot, bought them all winter hats and gloves, picked up a bunch of toys for Schuyler, threw a dinner party, arranged for private museum trips, bought booze, anything I could think of. I worried about being too obtrusive and too distant. I called Tracey for advice, my friends ... In the end, as JP predicted, I was able to give them the one thing they needed, which was to make them feel less alone. The wonderful thing about Rob's book is its honesty. Schuyler's condition may be rare, but as a family they are as normal as one can be, and I say this beyond just my own personal experience with them. Families have loads of crap to deal with, lots of baggage, lots of things we do to each other in service of our own agendas, and so in that vein, their story is relatable in that bittersweet way that true stories of family often are. I'm proud of my friend and what he's accomplished with this book. It was a long time coming. Posted by Erin at 07:59 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Wednesday, February 13, 2008
One small step
Last year, after I began the arduous task of digging myself out of the hole that was my mindset after the emotional upheaval of 2005 through the beginning of 2007, I knew that I was going to have to make some serious adjustments to my entire life. Behaviors would need to alter. Priorities would need to shift. Heads would need to be shrunk. Divorce does not, as one might think, or at least one who never experienced divorce first-hand, provide you a clean slate. It's incredibly messy, on so many levels, and there aren't enough erasers in the world to undo all that you gone and done. You're broke, tired and, most likely, fat. Well, I was fat. In terms of what my priorities were in fixing any of these situations, well, I didn't have many. For about a solid 12 months I just kept throwing these three aspects of my life up in the air and hoped that one would stick up on the ceiling just long enough for me to get a handle on the other two. Kind of like that slimy, neon goo you used to be able to get out of vending machines. I suppose I thought that three was a crowd when it came to dealing with The Problem Trifecta, or as I like to call them "The Big Three." But, not surprisingly, no matter how hard or fast or often I threw Broke, Tired and Fat up in the air, inevitably they'd all end up a pile of crazy together on my living room floor. I will stop with the bad analogy now. Honest to God, I for a long time thought if I just played my cards right, waited certain situations out, tended to the money tree Shelane sent me the first month I was on my own, prayed, bargained, borrowed, that I'd eventually come out on top and be just fine. These are all tactics that leave fate to its own devices and situations such as divorce call for action. Contrary to what some may have thought of me in the past, I am not a woman of action. I am a woman of sit-on-her-ass-and-watch-Jack-McCoy-fight-for-justice. But this sit-and-watch-the-world-go-by plan turned out to be not much of a plan at all. And worse still was that finding a remedy to any of these problems seemed unattractive to say the least. I'd been fat for the majority of my life and gaining 20 pounds was small potatoes when you compare it to the gargantuan efforts it took for me to get out of bed, what with all of the guilt I was carrying on my back. I could handle fat. I've pretty much always been tired. My mom was tired all of the time. I suspect her mother before her. I'm the person who fell asleep first at slumber parties, who would always rather nap than just about anything else. Scott has forever teased me about the fact that if 30 minutes go by and I'm not at work, and he hasn't heard from me, chances are good that I'm sleeping. And broke? Well, I've pretty much always been broke. The only differences throughout my life have been the varying degrees to which I've been broke. There is "normal" broke, which means I pay all of my bills but can't do much of anything else, and there is "panic" broke, which leaves me huddled into a corner, crying hysterically, worrying that I will lose everything I own. Mostly the dog.
Posted by Erin at 10:05 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, February 04, 2008
What I do for love
Sometimes I have difficulty articulating the love and care and affection I have for Scott. There are the standard platitudes that apply here, to be sure, but there are these moments where the feeling is beyond measure, beyond description. Mostly I feel very much present in my own life, and I'm struck with the realization that, unlike in relationships past, there is sincerely, without pretending, nothing, both good and bad, that I would change. There is a contentment present in my relationship with Scott that reverberates to just about every aspect of my life. But how does one best express that sort of emotion to the person she loves? Luckily for me, I have a couple of ideas this year*.
Posted by Erin at 01:53 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Thursday, January 24, 2008
Cold comfort
In the car last night, on the way home, after a long period of silence I instituted: Me: I'm sorry. I've had a long day. Scott: I know. Me too. Me: And I'm tired, and my sister and Bella are on their way over, and I just want to go home. Scott: I know. Me too. Me: And I have really bad cramps. *pause* Scott: Don't worry, baby! One day I'll get you pregnant and you won't have to worry about cramps for nine months! Posted by Erin at 06:25 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Happy birthday, JP!
Today is my dad's birthday. We were supposed to all go out last weekend and celebrate but the ridiculous cold temperatures won out over our desires to celebrate. Which was really too bad since hanging out with my family is more fun than you can imagine. We'll get together soon, and raise a pint in honor of JP, who remains one of my favorite people in the world. Happy birthday, Dad. I love you! Posted by Erin at 08:45 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Sunday, January 06, 2008
What I wouldn't give ...
"Also in November of 1989, I circles and drew arrows around a poem that started like this: "They wait to die / You wait to dine / You think it natural / They await a painful death ..." (about animals) -- I guess I was embracing vegetarianism at the beginning of 9th grade. I really ... just cannot even begin to say how much I loved this magazine. I don't even know what to say. I think I'm going to try to take some pictures, but not tonight." - Draw the Girl, Eliza, Sassy retrospective We're tossing around a visit to New Orleans this year. If and when and happens, my good friend Eliza is going to bring out here Sassy collection for me. So jealous. Posted by Erin at 11:47 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Christmas
Right now, I'm about a minute from changing into my pajamas, and my new robe (thanks, honey!) and cuddling up on the couch for some television watching and Glin snuggling. This was our first year spending all of Christmas together, so we were introduced to each other's families traditions - there were grab bags, Redbreast, pickled herring, Oplatek, Dr. Pepper ham, JP's spinach dip, Nana cookies, and lots and lots of talking, respectively. My nephews were the most awesome part of the celebration last night, as they're two funny, smart, interesting people - even if they're only toddlers. Especially because they're toddlers. It's amazing to see how much spark they've brought to our family, which was pretty, well, sparky to begin with. Glinny got presents galore, including pig ears, chew bones, ribs, tug toys, stuffed animals and a bone that is bigger than her. Scott watched as she sized it up today and declared, "God. It's so big she doesn't even know what do to with it." That one, of course, was from me. Scott, Glinny and I spent last night at my sister Kate's after we all finally left my parents' house. Kate and I stayed up talking until 4 a.m., looong after Scott had gone to bed. That was another plus. Kate and I talk about twice a day, not including all of the texting, but I can't remember the last time we stayed up that late. Luckily I took some Advil and Scott made me a fried egg sandwich when I woke up, despite his protestations that Miracle Whip does not belong on a fried egg sandwich. He, of course, would be wrong. We just got home from Christmas at Scott's grandparents, and, like his entire family, were way too generous and kind with their gifts. This was The Year of the Blanket as I scored three fleece blankets, which officially means I can turn down my heat and bundle up comfortably. My gas bill went from $16 a month to $70. Thanks, but no thanks. There were gloves and jewelry and Scott's aunt gave us our first official ornament together - two snowmen with our names printed on each - which touched me to no end. Last night at Mass, Fr. Pete talked about remembering the innocence of the season, of our faith, and this Christmas for me captured that. There was no stress or worry or concern. Nothing was overblown - well, we all did get pretty carried away with presents for the babies, but, you know - and there was laughter and happiness with every turn we made. I felt lucky and blessed. I hope you're all feeling the same, too. Posted by Erin at 08:22 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, December 21, 2007
It's December 21st, which means it's just about time for an end-of-the-year wrap up! Huzzah!
1. What did you do in 2007 that you'd never done before? Get a divorce. That was a new one on me. Working very hard at never having to experience that again. 2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I did! I lost the extra weight I'd packed on during my separation and got back into great shape. As it stands, I am healthier than I have ever been. I really hope I didn't just jinx my ass with that. 3. Did anyone close to you give birth? This was not The Year of The Baby, though my good friend Erin I - as she is called - did! 4. Did anyone close to you die? No. 5. What places did you visit? I went to Virginia and Las Vegas. Vegas sucked. Virginia rocked. 6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007? God, nothing. I want nothing. The financial stability and peace I wanted out of this year I got in droves. I think mostly what I wish for is the same for my loved ones. Seriously, I'm so blessed that I'm really not in a position to ask the universe for a damn thing. 9. What was your biggest failure? I was horrible at returning emails. And I was shit about getting into a weight-lifting routine. And I'm still dragging on ass on my second book. 10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Nope! 14. Where did most of your money go? Paying shit off. I will be debt-free - again - by Spring! 17. Compared to this time last year, are you: 18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Volunteering. I did a really good job with volunteering at an area soup kitchen on a regular basis until I started at the Sun-Times and couldn't. And then I only picked it back up once since then.
21. Did you fall in love in 2007? More in love, 22. How many one-night stands? Good God no. 23. What was your favorite TV program? 30 Rock. How I Met Your Mother. 24. What did you do for your birthday in 2006? Lots of fun stuff. Drinks with friends, mani/pedis, cupcakes, scotch. 25. What was the best book you read? "Middlesex" by Jeffrey Eugenides. 26. What was your greatest musical discovery? Um. Crap. No one is jumping out this year. 27. What did you want and get? A truce. Forgiveness. 28. What did you want and not get? Not a damn thing. 29. What was your favorite film of this year?This was not a big year for me and movies. I loved Knocked Up. I think Superbad was the last movie I saw in the theater.
31.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Not one thing. I mean, yes, getting a divorce sucked but I don't regret having done it whatsoever. 32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007? Wearing clothes that fit since March! 33. What kept you sane? Running, my girlfriends, Scott. 34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Could we all give Jessica Simpson a break? 35. What political issue stirred you the most? I really do love that we have a woman and an African-American running for president. And they have a real shot. 36. Who did you miss? I did a much better job at seeing my friends this year. WAY better. 37. Who was the best new person you met? Hate this question. 38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007. "It gets better." Posted by Erin at 03:17 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Thursday, November 29, 2007
Crossed
One of the things that chapped my hide when I moved from working at a non-union to a union newsroom was that I had to change insurance providers. And it was God-awful insurance. I mean, no insurance is perfect, to be sure, but I went from having some of the best coverage in the history of the world to paying twice that much, per paycheck, to lose access to all of my doctors and be covered with practically nothing. Now understand that prior to these past two years, I could have given a flying fig about my health care coverage. I've been healthy as a horse and, thank God, never had a catastrophic event that's introduced me to the perils of shitty coverage. But this past year, I've had minor little inconveniences pop up, just enough to realize how beneficial good health insurance is. The kind that lets you catch little inconveniences before they become big ones. That's a fucking luxury, people. Had it not been for the insurance I had, I would have never been able to afford the tests that were taken that discovered I have a thyroid condition. It was, quite frankly, the thing that turned the light on to so much of what has ailed me. But then? When it was time to do the follow up blood work? Well, I couldn't. Not on the union's insurance. Not without jumping through exhaustive hoops. I just needed some blood work. But I couldn't even go back to my original GP, let alone have these tests covered without finding a new doctor. And let me tell you something - while my skin has cleared up, and my headaches all but disappeared, I'm still absolutely and incredibly exhausted. And I sleep no less than seven and a half hours every night. One of the worst things about being hypothyroid is that I am always tired. Walking around perpetually tired is about as awful as it sounds. I fall asleep as soon as I'm on the couch. Any couch. I try and keep myself off of caffeine, but there are days where I won't make it through the day without an extra hit of it. I need that blood work done. Luckily, at my new job, I'm back to being covered by my original insurance, paying what I paid before, and this week I'm off to my doctor for all of my follow up testing, and I hope a new approach to handling my thyroid issues. And while this is all a thorn in my side, it's simply a thorn. It pales in comparison to what some folks deal with, and Linda's most recent entry reminded me of that, and reminded me that it's not a bad idea to keep that focus as we enter into an incredibly important election year. If you haven't gotten hep to what an issue health care in this country is, you either haven't been paying attention or live in a bubble that is carefully attended to by nice people who shelter you from an uncaring world. There were, even for a Michael Moore fan such as myself, many issues I had with Sicko, but the overall message is an important one. You should see it if you haven't. Posted by Erin at 03:33 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, November 26, 2007
Reflection
On my way out of my office today I caught my reflection and for a moment I didn't recognize myself. I don't mean that in some lofty, introspective way. I really mean that for a moment the me that existed in my, well, head, and the person I saw in the mirror did not match up. In my head I was thinking about how much my thighs hurt from overdoing it at the gym on Saturday - 90 minutes of training and weight lifting - and maybe how dumb that was to do in light of having run an 8K the day before, and how it is that I push myself to do silly physical things like that, always have, because I always feel like I'm never doing enough, and as I hobbled towards the bathroom stall I looked up and I saw this ... woman looking back. I was wearing a long, black trench coat with my Burberry scarf peeking out from underneath. When I was a little girl, my father wore a Burberry scarf to work downtown every day - well, every day that it was cold - and I always thought it was the height of sophistication, of professional-person-ism. I bought mine when I was in Ireland three years ago, when I'd had enough money to buy a real one of my own. It stands to reason that I'd quite consciously implement the scarf into my own professional persona as an adult, and I suppose it's always sort of irked me how trendy and fashionable Burberry became since the plaid first caught my eye, wrapped around my dad's neck. Underneath were lined, brown-plaid, wool pants paired with a cream-colored, knit top. Both from Ann Taylor and as safe and as conservative a look as anyone could dream up. Sensible shoes, new glasses, and understated jewelry put it all together. Plus, I'd styled my hair that morning, newly colored by Scott's sister Jen Wednesday night, over much catching up and wine at the salon. Somehow, my hair and makeup all remain in place after nine hours. When did that happen anyway? When did I have that sort of hair? That sort of makeup? I don't know when I became this person altogether. I mean, clearly I had a hand in it all - this conservative, this safe, this sanitary look has been me for years now. After years of stops and starts, of trying on all sorts of identities, this is the one in which I seem most comfortable, the least awkward. I don't make apologizes anymore for showing up in what I tell Scott is my "Banana Republic Gear" because I feel, finally, OK being this person. I'm less fidgety, less awkward, less unsure of myself. Admittedly I'm less bold, less risky than I was before I settled into this woman, but I think I've finally gotten tired of fighting who I wasn't with who I was. It doesn't mean I'm not startled and caught unaware by what I see sometimes, despite clearly having embraced it, embraced nice jeans, embraced a life without funky hair colors. I grew up. That's all. Some days, however, it blindsides the hell out of me that it eventually happened. Posted by Erin at 10:48 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Sunday, November 25, 2007
Olivia shoots me cooler
My friend Olivia is one of the most talented photographers I know. Dead serious. In fact, hers was one of the first pictures ever chosen by Flickr to be used as one of the random photo placeholders on the main page. I can't way for the day that both of our schedules collide because she's agreed to take pictures of me and Glinny. We all went out for karaoke last night and she put together a slide show from all of the pictures she took, which, not surprisingly, are awesome. There are several pictures me coming off way prettier and way more awesome than I do in real life, which is the brilliance of a good photographer, because if you can make a girl feel pretty while she's got her gaping maw wide open, you're a genius. If you're in the area, and you need an awesome photographer, I can't recommend Olivia enough. You seriously need to hire her so she can quit her job. And to answer the obvious questions a few of you might have? Yes, that's him. Posted by Erin at 09:23 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, November 23, 2007
Thankful
I think it was at about 8:30 this morning while watching the morning news, after the dogs had been let out and fed, and I'd crawled into my sister's bed, with my sister, and Scott, who'd graciously spent the night in the twin bed in the guest room, eventually followed suit and set up camp at the end of the bed, only to attract the attention of both dogs who love him more than life itself, that I was totally overcome with how lucky I am. Right there in that room with me were my very best friends in the whole wide world. I'm thankful for so much, but I am most thankful for them. Posted by Erin at 12:37 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, November 19, 2007
Everyone stop it right now
If I have to hear or read, one more time, someone using the phrase, "That's how I roll," as though he or she is Huggy Bear, or, worse, Snoop doing Huggy Bear, or some such nonsense, I will scream. I'm not saying I never used it (Scott) but I recognize that every little phrase has a shelf life and "That's how I roll" should have been tossed out with other choice gems such as "Whatevs" and "So. Not. Worth. Using. Periods. After. Every. Word." and countless others. The opportunity to use it in a snarky fashion also has expired. You've been warned. Posted by Erin at 12:35 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Sunday, November 18, 2007
You don't get that in Chicago
Last night I slept over at my grandmother's house. She lives in the same sleepy little town she's called home since JP was a little kid and they moved there from the arsenal. Even though it's just a stone's throw from Joliet, it's always felt (and in some ways very much so remains) as small town as it always had. That's part of its charm, and why being there is as comforting as putting on slippers after a long day. I'm a city girl, but I like going to Gram's because it's nice to sit still for a day or so. As with all towns of its size, everyone knows each other and if they don't know you they know about you if you're related to someone in town. Rare is the time after Saturday night Mass that a friend of Gram's isn't enveloping me in a big hug, based solely on the fact that I'm Kay's granddaughter. That, too, is a nice feeling. But what I really like, what I really love most, is the time before bed, when you're sitting in Gram's kitchen talking, especially if we've dug out the old pictures, is that after awhile, the ever-present police scanner will go off, and you'll hear the dispatcher relay one thing or another over the channel, and there is a very good chance it'll be something such as we heard last night: "We've got a ... black and white dog missing ... spot on his face ... answers to the name Duke ..." "Copy that. I see him." "Oh good! His owner is here looking for him." "I'll get him." (seconds pass) "He's a fast one that Duke." Even my grandma, who is used to such things, had to laugh. Posted by Erin at 03:51 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Fringe benefits
Sometimes I feel badly that my job doesn't lend itself to more benefits for Scott, at least as much as his does for me. I'm always the happy beneficiary to the coolness of his job. For instance? This week we are going to go see Lucero, a band with a lead singer who, as evidenced when we saw him live last summer, prompts young, Southern women to extemporaneously announce, "I'm looking good tonight for Bay-ehn," without a stitch of sarcasm. She really was dressed for Ben. I didn't, quite honestly, think it could get better this week than going to see Lucero, but it has. After getting out of a meeting this afternoon, I was greeted by an IM from Scott, informing me that a coworker of his gave him a jar of this stuff as an offering for being late on something Web-related. "You can give it to your girlfriend," the editor reportedly said, handing it over to my befuddled boyfriend. I'm sure that for Scott, being given $50-worth of spa product for me doesn't really balance out as much as he'd like in his favor, but believe you me - it's just one more thing that makes me even more supportive of his workaholic tendencies, which really aren't outrageous, just the mark of someone who never, ever does anything even remotely half-assed. So I say, "Work till 8:30 p.m., baby! Just don't forget the pore-minimizer!" Posted by Erin at 06:49 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Sunday, October 14, 2007
Pretty flowers
Posted by Erin at 09:13 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, October 12, 2007
She is trusting her little universe
The new job starts Monday. I can't wait. I'm still going to be working as a Web editor, only at a publishing house. Publishing firm. Publishing company. Whatever. Working as a Web editor still, and, awesomely enough, traveling a little bit too. I like a little travel with my jobs. I took this past week off and I'm certainly glad that I did. Up until yesterday, I was still waking up every morning, freaking out about the state of the Sun-Times Web site, and things that still needed to be done, which was ridiculous since my last day there was Friday. That job took a hold on me pretty tightly. It's taken a few days of sleep, shopping, eating, drinking and general rest and relaxation for me to shake off the S-T's tight grip on my brain. For as much as I loved what I did, and was as appreciated for that work as I was, I vow to never let my job interfere that much with my psyche again. This has been such a fun vacation, and it's still going on. Today is lunch with my mom and drinks with Scott's sister and brother-in-law. Tomorrow I'm a running a 5K with Shelane and then it's off to Morton's where Scott and I will eat all sorts of red meats and shellfish and drink martinis. Sunday is the Bears game and I am making a big pot roast dinner. There has been much eating and drinking and cooking on this vacation. How I'm going to keep fitting into all of those new clothes I've purchased, I do not know. But it's been fun and I'm happy and relaxed and going into my new job with a strong sense of purpose and calm. I vow to never again take for granted the time I have with my friends and loved ones, and it makes the prospect of work much more exciting. Plus, you know, Vegas. I'm going to Vegas soon. To mark the new job, I recently purchased this necklace, thanks to my good friend Marit, who turned me onto this artist. I like the design of the piece itself, to say nothing of its meaning. I think it's a good token to take with me into this new step. Plus, it's cute and funky and if there are two things I really enjoy, cute and funky are, well, two of them. Posted by Erin at 09:37 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Thursday, September 27, 2007
Virginia
We were a motley crew of homeward-bound folk, "home" varying for each of us. We all carried a suitcase or airline-tagged bag of some sort, denoting the obvious: we'd been somewhere else, and now we're coming back. If you looked closely enough, you could see hints of where some people had been. Some were more obvious. For instance, one woman in front of me wore a cowboy hat. You don't get cowboy hats in Chicago much, although come to think of it, at church recently a woman was wearing one. We were at Scott's church, and had we been at my church, it would have been shocking. Catholics don't accessorize for Mass much, and when we do, you'd better blend in with all of the rest of congregation. Episcopalians seem much more inclusive where such matters are concerned. Anyway, this woman on the "L" was wearing a "I-just-bought-this-on-vacation" cowboy hat, and she made it her own, caressing the brim every now and then, tipping her head in a fashion that seemed to suggest she'd grown accustomed to it as a way to punctuate what she was saying. They say it takes two weeks to form or break any habit. I think vacations expedite things, which is why, assuming she was only gone, say, several days, when she leaned in to whisper something into the ear of her partner, she didn't furiously grab at the hat, fearing it would fall off. She simply adjusted the angle of her neck accordingly, so that as she whispered, as she leaned, the cowboy hat remained still on her head. In that moment, I'd wished I bought a souvenir from our trip. I remember telling JP several years ago that I didn't really like vacations, that they didn't suit me. My father doesn't get outwardly exasperated with me - inwardly, I know I exasperate the man on a daily basis, and it's amazing that he hasn't given up on me completely as a result - but when he does, it's a gentle, knowing sort of exasperation that only a father who is desperately trying to impart some wisdom onto a stubborn daughter can give. "Erin," he said. "You just don't know how to relax." As he is with most things concerning me, he was right. And I knew it as he said it. I have spent every subsequent vacation trying hard - Really! Hard! - to relax as a result. Remind me to tell you about my honeymoon and how I spent the majority of it with a headache so bad that I ended up in the emergency room the day after we landed on American soil. Turned out? Not a tumor. Or anything at all. It was decided later - much later - that my headache was most likely the physical manifestation of the stress of realizing that perhaps I shouldn't have just done what I'd gone and done. But Virginia was different. Obviously, I was different. Something fundamental shifted inside of me without realizing it. I suppose it was naive, really, to think that anyone could have experienced what I experienced and not have changed. But the immediate changes were so dramatic, so massive, that to think about subtle transformation was more than I could digest.
Posted by Erin at 01:36 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, September 03, 2007
Wedding revelations
Last night at my best friend Ali's wedding, I learned two things: 1) Scott can breakdance. And well. Ali was pretty much expecting Scott to cut a rug at her reception, having seen him in action before. You have to understand that it isn't just that Scott will actually get out there and attempt to dance. No, no. He actually can dance. During "Footloose," as a huge circle was formed on the dance floor, and after a few guys had jumped in the middle, Scott went in and got down on the ground and began to spin his legs underneath himself before getting up, skipping around the entire circle of people, slapping their hands, and then doing the splits. The move James Brown was known for. Twice. The entire floor erupted into cheers and I couldn't have been more proud. 2) Earlier before the ceremony, I met Scott in the lobby of the hotel. I hadn't seen him since the evening before as I stayed with Ali in the bridal suite after the rehearsal dinner. I walked off the elevator and into the lobby. His eyes lit up and he told me how beautiful I looked, which was sweet and welcomed. We began to talk about other things when he stopped me and said: "If I was single and was just meeting you, I would totally try to pick you up at this wedding." That's the kind of reaction you want to get when it took four hours, two hairdressers, 30-some odd bobby pins, cans of hairspray and piles of makeup to get you that way. It's always nice to get a reward for all of your efforts. The wedding was stunning and a grand time was had by all. I am not one to get all emotional and weepy, but it's mind-boggling to realize my best friend is married now. Posted by Erin at 01:28 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Out of the closet
Those who know us who also read this blog have a hard time understanding why I refer to Scott as "The Boy" around these parts. Wait. Whoops. Well, there you go. Cat's outta the bag. I really couldn't think of any more of a creative way to tell you all what my boyfriend's real name is. We stand behind our initial decision to not name Scott by, well, name, mostly because we both felt a little unsure of how much we wanted to reveal about our relationship. We're not Tori & Dean and we're not about to go open a B&B up in Wisconsin. Or get married just yet. Let alone have a baby. (Although? And confidential to Jessica because I have to believe you're watching "Tori & Dean: Inn Love" and loving it as much as I love it. I watched a whole mess load of it today. There is something about Tori Spelling that calms me. Don't ask why.) Revealing Scott's name here has been a big deal for a number of reasons, but the largest of which is what he saw happen to me when anonymous Internet people decided to use what I'd previously written about my ex-husband after I'd announced we had split up. It wasn't nice and the sheer volume of it made me sad and frustrated and unwilling to share much at all. But now? Well, we just don't care that much anymore. We really don't. We've been together for an awfully long time now and it's sort of silly to keep calling him "The Boy." And he knows I'm incredibly sick of referring to him as "The Boy," just as much as some of you are sick of reading it, I'm sure. Plus, I'm pretty proud of him, and proud to be with him, and while I won't deviate from the previously agreed decision to keep the meat of our relationship off line, Scott is a really funny person who writes really funny things and it's taken all I have in me not to post his stuff here. So in that spirit, you really need to follow along with him over at the Time Out Chicago blog as he recaps R Kelly. The guy is so academic about it that it kills me. Posted by Erin at 10:52 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Sunday, August 12, 2007
Whew
I am tired. Seriously. Wiped out. Work has been great - albeit a little on the stressful side, but since I'm an admitted drama queen, it's not like that's a big shocker - but it's been an adjustment. More stress, more responsibility, more to learn, more to juggle ... Overall, however? It's been exciting and challenging and my day whooshes by in a matter of seconds. I'm happy to be at a daily newspaper again, and in a couple of weeks we're all moving down to the newsroom as a permanent part of the editorial staff. On Friday night after checking in with the city desk I stopped by and said hello to my new desk down there. Because I am a huge dork. Not surprisingly, I haven't felt like doing much with the blogs. I'm working on a private little project over at Flickr and that's the most I can devote myself to, and I'm only doing that because I started it just a couple of days before I started the new job and I can't quit already. So things might be a little quiet over here while I adjust to things. I'll be back soon, though. Posted by Erin at 08:24 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Friday, August 03, 2007
Moving on up
Today is my last Friday off. I don't talk about my job much - we all know it's better to not talk about anything job-related on your personal site. I don't really even talk about my previous jobs, with the exception of the one job years ago I had that I truly, passionately hated. That job sucked my soul from my body, had some of the most insecure, toxic people working for them and brought only one good thing to my life and that is my friendship with Jen, without whom I might have never made it through my divorce. And, I suppose, now that I look at it that way, maybe it wasn't so awful. I am nothing if not a silver lining individual. Anyway, with the exception of the aforementioned Job of Doom, I've always loved where I worked. I just don't feel much need to talk about it. And this isn't just because my employers know about my Web sites, a fact I've never kept secret because you only have to Google "erin" and I'm the 4th result you'll get. Besides, much of what I do for a living was a direct result from this site anyway. I've needed to tell them about my Web sites. They're on my resume. But not talking about work is amusing to me since I'm such a work-focused person. I'm not necessarily a workaholic, but much of my identity is wrapped up in what I do for a living. And I will tell you: from my first day on the job at the Sun-Times News Group, I knew I'd come home. I've been working on the Web sites of dozens of different suburban properties owned by STNG, working four days a week from one of their north suburban locations and one day from the cozy confines of my home office. Since Thanksgiving, this arrangement has been in place and has afforded me a luxury I've not once taken for granted and that's the Friday off. Sure, I still work on Saturdays, but there has been something so decadent about having Fridays off. To say it's been blissful would be an understatement. And now it comes to end. This week, I was offered a job downtown working solely on the Chicago Sun-Times Web site. Ever since I was little kid, all I've only ever wanted two things professionally: to work at a major daily newspaper and have it be in downtown Chicago. Check! Check! The new job starts Monday, and it's promised to be more stressful and with more responsibilities and I couldn't be more thrilled about the challenge. I say goodbye to the dreaded suburban commute I've been dealing with for years and years, and hello to the dreaded CTA. I'm keeping my car - I'm a car person - but I'm really happy to not have deal with the expressway as a rule. Besides, it makes me feel much more a part of the city to actually be working and living in it as opposed to leaving it for the majority of my day. Today, however, I'm going to be poolside, slathered in sunblock, with a book, a beverage cooler filled with vodka lemonade, and the new Tegan and Sara. I could do a million other things, I suppose, but this seems like the more appropriate way to celebrate. Posted by Erin at 10:09 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, July 30, 2007
Where I've been
I haven't had much time to devote to blogging here lately. There's been a mess of things going on, and every time I sit down to try and write, I get caught up in more pressing issues. Here are a few things of note: *The Boy's sister got married in June and Saturday was her reception. It was held at her new husband's father's house in the suburbs, and it was lovely. Really lovely. Even the part where The Boy chose not to believe me until we were practically there when I said, "No, no. We're going to take the Edens. And then get off of on the exit, going the opposite way, I take every single day to work. I know where we're going. It's not going to take us that long." My sense of direction - lack thereof - is infamous so it's not like I totally blame him but for real. Have a little faith, man. *Speaking of faith, The Boy did a wildly awesome rendition of the George Michael song of the same name for our friend Margaret's birthday party at the American Legion. He's a showman and by the end there were a crowd of ladies swooning. I told them all to back off as he was going home with me. It was pretty sweet. *I ran a 10K on Sunday. My longest yet. The Boy was totally on board for leaving Margaret's party early solely so he could get up at the crack of dawn with me to cheer me on at the race. He's really supportive of my running and it's nice to have a cheerleader out there. The race was great, my best yet actually. I averaged 11:45 minute miles and finished strong. God I am sore today though. *We've had Bella with us all weekend. Glinny has had enough. She's good with her, and they play all day and night, but Glinny is not down with sharing The Mama. At all. *Bella also destroyed my new glasses. And ate all of my tomatoes. And some of the neighbors' tomatoes. And is so tall and scrappy. And sweet and floppy and funny. And fearless. I have never met a more fearless puppy. *Some member of the construction crew building the McMansion across the street scraped JoJo The Wonder Scion last week, leaving scrapes and bright orange construction paint all along the left, rear-wheel panel. The good news? The plumbing contractor - whose guys were responsible - is fixing it without issue. Still. It'd be nice if everyone could leave JoJo alone now. This past year he's been broken into and crashed into. He's had enough, thanks. *Tomorrow night I'm headed out for a private wine tasting with my friend Rachelle. Alpana Singh herself invited Rachelle to it and I'm going as her guest because Dallas, Rachelle's boyfriend, is not so much into the wine. Thanks, Dallas! Love you! Go Braves! *This weekend is my best friend's bachelorette party. Singing will be involved, as will lots o' food. And a large group of girls cavorting around the general River North area. I don't expect to surface until late Sunday night. Posted by Erin at 08:36 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Our weekend
The Boy and I headed back to lovely Joliet, Illinois this past weekend to both 1) have dinner with my parents and 2) go gambling. We do not gamble, and we do not come from gambling people, but he had a piece to write on gambling for work, specifically on Harrah's, so it was to J-town we went. I thought it would be fun - kitschy even. An evening back at the homestead, visiting a place I'd never been, and maybe even winning some money. But you know what we found? Hope went there to die, but got suckered into playing the slots, found itself a really nasty coke habit then married a feathered-hair cocktail waitress, crawled into the parking lot and proceeded to pass out. Death isn't an option at Harrah's. A never ending, miserable existence, however, is. Honest to God, if the lesson I learned at nine from JP wasn't enough to curb me from wanting to gamble - wherein I had a great running streak going, betting him $1 each game played by the 1985-86 Bears until they lost a game and I felt what it was like to lose, which sucked and I hated it so much - then this most surely did. We felt dirty when we walked out of there. Seriously. Posted by Erin at 01:09 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Thursday, July 05, 2007
Sweet relief
Armed with about an extra three weeks worth of pay, I hit Tiffany's and bought this necklace. I really don't understand why I chose this necklace, but almost four years later, I know that making the decision to purchase that particular necklace was much like any other decision I made in my life at that time: I thought it would make things perfect. Acceptable, even. Mostly, it would make my life OK. It didn't matter that a necklace such as this one was more my style, one I'd get more use out of. I never even stopped to consider a necklace like that, or that it might truly be the necklace for me. Nope. I just plowed on straight into the Tiffany's at Old Orchard Mall, walked right up to the counter, bluntly pointed to the heavy, toggle necklace and said, "I'll be buying that one." Something about being able to say that exact phrase was empowering, if not safe. In some ways, it was the best substitution I had for tossing my cap up into the air. I could actually hear the words "You're gonna make it after all" on repeat in my head as I made my way back to my car. I'm certain that I popped that necklace on before I put the car into reverse and pulled out from my parking spot.
Posted by Erin at 08:18 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Happy 4th!
I'm pretty awful about making plans on the holidays. I'm not sure why. I owe it mostly to being inherently lazy and more inclined to want to veg out and shut down for a few days, rather than pack every hour with activities. My sister Kate is just like this. Just last night we were discussing how it is that anyone could have geared themselves up to go out after working all day. Kate Shea and I would rather sit around and do nothing almost more than anything. Most people don't get it; I know The Boy doesn't. He's a planner. The man has the most active social life of anyone I know. I was over at his sister's the other day and she and her husband explained to me that they're so inclined to just sit at home that last year they didn't even realize it was the 4th until waaaay later in the day, despite having gone out to the grocery store earlier in the afternoon. They are my people. Clearly I should be dating them. Although they are newlyweds and I don't think they'd want me cramping their style, no matter how much we all like each other. But The Boy and I have reached certain compromises to make it all work. As of this moment, he is at the gym ("We're going to be eating a lot of food today!" was his rationale, and I'm all, "Hey! Pass the chips!") and will later ride his bike back over here so we can commence with the lounging. And the grilling of hot dogs. And the eating of the potato salad. And the drinking of the 312. I'm sure we will at some point venture out for another bike ride, or, more likely, a walk with Glinny, but it is even more likely that I will convince him that the best idea in the world would be to watch "Law & Order." Because we never do that. In my defense, I'm actually sitting here doing some work, because like many workaholic people who get a day off, it's a perfect time to accomplish those tasks that get put on the back burner, those things that when completed, will make me feel whole and right and good. Besides, I've got so many plans for the rest of my week - of which I will be off from work, but of course checking in - that I think it's fine to be lazy today. Tomorrow I'll finally be painting my bedroom, so I can stop staring at those awful peach walls. Glinny and I will hit dog beach a few times, dinner with Ali for Guatemalan food, the Sox game with Jen and finally, my sister's wedding reception.
So The Boy and I head to J-town Saturday for the party, and I've promised him a rousing after-party because you can't get married in Joliet and not have a huge drinking bash at some bar until the wee hours. Kate says Devyn's got it all worked out. Posted by Erin at 10:53 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Saturday, June 16, 2007
Snort
I'm just recovering from one of the gnarliest head colds I've had in ages. Every summer - and it all can be directly attributed to my allergies - I get knocked on my butt a couple of times to where I can't breathe, sleep or do much of anything other than be super sick. Allergy sufferers probably feel me on this. It's as though my allergies and a cold met over dirty Sapphire martinis at pretty decent bar around the corner and before you know it they were closing Tai's Till 4 and making out on a bus bench until the wee hours. All bedraggled and dirty and shameless. Having closed Tai's back in my younger days and made out on a bus bench afterwards, I know of what I speak. To make matters worse, until yesterday I was without air conditioning. I woke up at 7:30 yesterday morning and, despite needing to be armed with a purse full of tissues, made a citywide search for the exact 10,000 BTU window air unit I wanted and guess what? It took three stores and the help on the nice Irish contractor building the fancypants house across the street from me, but as of right now, Glin Pup and I are enjoying the wonders of chilly temperatures again. I will not, as I did last year, be so cavalier with this air conditioner as to let Glin get anywhere near the cord where she can promptly chew it up. Damn dog. Posted by Erin at 01:07 PM | | filed under: Odds and ends Monday, June 11, 2007
Overheard Over the Weekend
"Is that yogurt and almonds?" "Yes ... I'm making a protein smoothie. *pause* Would you like one?" "Yes I would! Thank you." Pulls out all of the ingredients for said smoothie. Smoothie made. Thirty minutes elapse. Someone heads towards the kitchen sink with a half-glass of smoothie, a quasi-disgusted look on his face. "You don't have like it you know." "Um, I know." Chugging of smoothie ensues. "It just tastes ... kinda of strange." "Well, it's tofu, soy milk and ..." "WHAT?! Was that what I was drinking? Oh yuck!" With the exception of work on Saturday, I was barely at my computer this weekend. Things started off with the Chicagoist anniversary party on Thursday, which made The Boy and I simultaneously nostalgic and glad that the responsibilities for coordinating such an event no longer fall to us. Putting together Chicagoist events used to account for a good percentage of our free time, time that we now spend watching TV and obsessing over work. There were lunches with friends, dog beach for Glin, dinner and barbecues with assorted members of The Boy's family, drinks with my girlfriends (which included The Boy instructing them all on how to play Bags), and the Chicago Cares Serve-a-Thon. I had such an amazing time, and even though we were a little overwhelmed by all of the paint fumes by day's end, we could not have been happier with what we were able to accomplish. (Confidential to M. Wade: email me, would you? I'd like to thank you properly!) But the best thing, probably out of an entire weekend of fun, was minutes after I explained to my girlfriends to fly right since my bosses were on our volunteer team, Candace thwacks John Cruickshank's arm with the water bottle she was absentmindedly tossing about as she told us all some story. He didn't seem to mind, and I still have a job. He gave us both the thumb's up sign later on in the day so I'm not too worried. Still, next year I'm keeping Candace away from all water bottles and assorted objects. Posted by Erin at 07:13 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends Saturday, June 02, 2007
Yay Rachelle!
It's always kind of exciting when your friends are a part of | |
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.
We were never the sort of kids who wanted for anything. We weren't indulged, well not exactly (well maybe exactly), because we were pretty good kids who did well in school, minded their manners, played nice with the other kids, etc.
After putting it off for weeks, talking about them incessantly with my friends, I finally caved in.
Scott turns 33 today.
As Scott and I made our way home from Midway a few weeks ago, riding the 
Several years ago, when Erik and I were first engaged, and had been living with each other for about a year, I came into some money. Well, that's not exactly accurate. Basically I was finally at a place financially where I could really start to fill the big void I had inside me, the part of me that I thought would be whole if I just had nicer stuff. At the time, I'd recently quit the worst job in the history of mankind, working with a couple of the worst people to boot, and had accrued plenty of vacation time, all of which translated into money.
My little sister Devyn got married in April. She and Cory flew off to Jamaica and had a lovely wedding and honeymoon together, all rolled into one. Saturday is their wedding reception back in J-town. I'll be honest and admit that I can't for the life of me remember how Cory and Devyn met, only that once she had she was totally smitten with "some high school football coach/teacher." The first time I'd met him was at my gram's and he'd just dyed his goatee blond for some school-related fund raiser/bet.
