Check out the new blog space

Hi!

This blog has moved. I'm still writing about the same things there. Check out the new posts here: http://www.chicagonow.com/life-side-brownies/

Thanks for reading!

Evamist: most likely Wonder Woman's fragrance choice

So, you know when you go to the doctor and come home with estrogen body spray? ... No? ... Oh.

Without going into details as to why (because, that's personal and you don't want to know), my new doctor put me on a trial dosage of estrogen for a couple of months. Application method: topical via spray bottle. I am supposed to spray estrogen on my forearms for one week in each of the next two months to see if a dip in estrogen is causing my body to rebel.

Ok, that may sound a little odd (and for this medicine-averse girl, a little scary), but I went with it when my doc suggested it - seeing as it is just a trial. When I read the instructions at home, though, I noticed an important note: Do not let anyone come into contact with the area where Evamist is sprayed. This gave me pause.

No one should touch my arms for a week? Apparently not. The Evamist website goes into more details, repeating at least four times the importance of keeping ones hormone-infused skin away from other people's non-infested skin.

So my question is how, in this public-transit-world, am I supposed to manage to keep people from touching my arms? What if this unseasonably cool weather suddenly turns hot? Do I have to stick to long sleeves? Do I need to wear, like, metal arm warmers or something to keep everyone else hormone-free?

Wait... this finally explains Wonder Woman's fashion choices. Maybe she gains her strength and power from a mist of estrogen every morning and chooses to protect the rest of humanity by covering her arms in those clearly uncomfortable metal sheaths. What a gem she is.

I clearly know very little about super heroes and comic book super powers, but I am going to stick to this explanation at least until my trial run of estrogen doping is over. For the next two months, I will imagine myself with super powers capable of many things.

Sure. We'll go with that.

PS Speaking of super heroes, Guardians of the Galaxy is a winner. I recommend it.

Wilds of Wisconsin (I'm in love)

I am pretty sure I fell in love with the Chicago upon first sight--about a year ago actually. And I love it, I really do. But with all relationships, there are times when you just need to take a step away.

I needed a little breathing room. And as it turned out, Hannah and Bogey were up for a getaway too, so we traded the bustling urban life for a wilderness adventure this weekend. 

I've always wanted to go to Wisconsin. I don't know why, except that every person I've ever met from the northern state has been incredibly nice and fascinating. I honestly didn't know what to expect at the end of the four hour drive to Door County, but what I found was a perfectly surprising, quirky escape.

B&B featuring dogs barking on the roof as a greeting

Country stores featuring delicious WI products and bizarre signage

A completely unexpected find on the shores of Lake Michigan: Cave Point

The shortest lighthouse I've ever seen

Shores of shells

Gorgeous hiking trails with Bogey the Explorer

In the quiet of the country, primitive lake shores, welcoming farms, and untamed landscape accompanied by perfect 70 degree weather was made for peace-finding. So we explored the wilds of Wisconsin thusly.

Yoga by things that inspired the poses: 

Boat pose by the lake

Plank pose by the docks

Tree pose in the woods

King of the Dance pose among the ferns - I am imagining fairies dancing among the plants, a la Fern Gully

And there was wine. Pure perfection. I was right about Wisconsin.

Yes, Wisconsin is a wonderful place. A perfect retreat from Chicago. But on our return, I did realize how much I do love the neighborhoods and vitality and unpredictability of the city. I do love it.

PS I think I could start a travel blog called "Bogey's Ears Flying Places". If Maddie on Things could take off as much as it has, Bogey has a shot for sure. Check these out:

 

The three reasons I run

Happy 4th of July!

I know a lot of you are running things today - marathons, 5Ks, barbeques... I started seeing all of the Peachtree Road Race numbers yesterday on the Facebooks. I suppose it is that season. Last weekend, we met our friend Aylette at the finish line of her triathalon.

Finishing a triathalon: feat or day ruiner?

You are all wonderfully motivated and fit. These are certainly good things. I support motivation and health. Go team!

However, I for one do not run. You can't convince me to do it: I don't like it; I get bored and don't like music enough for it to "pump me up"; I quite frankly don't see the point in running in what is so very often just a circle. (Don't get me started on how I feel about treadmills.)

I will walk for miles, swim, hike, yoga-pose, or kayak any day (almost any day), but run? Forget it. I'm out.

Ok, so actually if I'm being honest, there are a few times I do run, but they are under very specific circumstances. Here are the only three times I run:

1. When trying to beat the timer on the crosswalk. That countdown thing they do these days just taunts a pedestrian.
2. When attempting to keep the dog from peeing in the courtyard. We almost always make it out the gate, no problem, but occasionally the dog overdoes it on the beverages and can't wait.. don't tell the condo management.
3. When playing off an almost-trip-and-fall. You know the move - you trip on the crack in the sidewalk and then begin to trot for a few steps, as if you were suddenly reminded that you were in a hurry... yeah, that.

Other than that folks, it's true, I am a non-runner. But hey, like I said, way to go guys! Run on! (Just don't ask me to train with you for your next anything-a-thon. I will laugh, and then I will pass.)

Have a great holiday, everyone! Enjoy the day however you choose.. also, enjoy this pic of Bogey:

Bogey prefers a day at the beach to running also...

See that tennis ball in the distance, Bogey refused to fetch it. He's sassy.

A short tale of misadventures

The plan: Day trip to Milwaukee - breakfast at the Public Market, visit the art museum, maybe catch a Brewers game, back to Chicago this evening.

As I write this I am sitting in Uptown with plans to hit the beach this afternoon. The plan changed. How, you ask...

Of course the Red Line was running unbelievably slow today, so Hannah and I hopped off to catch a cab in hopes of making the 8:25 Amtrak train. Standing on the corner of Clark and Belmont, a black limo pulled over and asked if we were hailing a cab.

"Hop in," he says. "Same price as a cab," he says. Friends, especially young friends, I do not suggest ever hopping in a car like that, but..... in the spirit of jugaad, we were running very late, so... we hopped in.

As we raced down Lake Shore Drive on this beautiful morning, we looked at the time over and over. When roads were blocked for any number of festivals or races or construction that might be going on downtown, we started to lose hope. After the chauffeur ran at least two red lights and screeched up to Union Station, we pulled a movie scene, threw money at him, and ran through the terminal.

We arrived at 8:24 a.m. along with two other breathless would-be passengers. Apparently, once in a blue moon, Amtrak trains run on time. And apparently, they close gates five minutes before departure - no exceptions!

The good news is, Amtrak tickets to Milwaukee are valid any time, any day, for up to a year.

So in the end, Hannah and I got tortas, churros, and coffee at Xoco and will head to the beach with Hayley and Bogey this afternoon. Ah well. What can you do?

Plus, it was my first ride in a limo! (Other people do their first time limo-ing in fancy dresses with
champagne. Not me, leggings and a latte, that's how I roll.)

A Generic Brand Childhood Revealed

I love to cook. If we've met for any short amount of time, you know that. For a long time, I attributed my love of cooking to three things: spending time with my mom and aunt in the kitchen, my love of food (read: being a fat kid at heart), and the joy of playing with my wooden kitchen set and Easy Bake Oven as a child...

This is what I thought until this weekend.

During this weekend's thunderstorms, I took a stroll down memory lane looking at old pictures. In doing so, I came across a photo I've seen a hundred times-- the one of me and my Easy Bake Oven on a Christmas morning 20-odd years ago. But this time I noticed something I hadn't before. The toy in hand was not, in fact, an "Easy Bake Oven". It was... a... "Watch It Bake Oven".

What the hell. I mean, really, what does a "Watch It Bake Oven" even mean? And especially when you compare it to the "Easy Bake," the message of the "Watch It Bake" is clear: it's not going be simple, kid, and we're going to make you watch every long minute while the paste you beat turns into diabetes-laced cardboard. Check out this sorry excuse for an ad, y'all:



Even those lyrics are taunting: "My oven lets me see cake baking... no other oven let's me peek right through." Torture.


I'm assuming that the "Watch It Bake" was probably the budget-friendly version of the toy. And I guess that's fine; I truly loved it nonetheless. But even so, it's hard not to feel a little gypped when the Easy bake made it into the toy Hall of Fame. (Maybe that award is credited to  this 10-minute propaganda piece.)

Whatever the case, though, I do love to cook. And the wooden kitchen set my parents gave to me was passed on to each of my nieces, which is very special. And look how happy I was with that off-brand, light bulb baking machine.


(And, ok, 3-minute ice cream? What, dear God, is that ice cream mix made of??)

5 reasons pigeons are to be feared

If I've learned anything through travel and urban living, it is that pigeons are a thing to be feared.

Stay away, pigeons

Here are just five of the many reasons why:

1.      They basically have conquered the world. 

 But seriously, though, they live in any city, anywhere. In flocks or lonesome, they invade urban space, feeding on crumbs and other human squander. As much as I have traveled, one of the only ever present realities is the presence of pigeons. (That and the human-ness of humans, but that is for another post altogether.)

Apparently pigeons are indigenous to Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa. (I feel like this is already a large landmass. Why did they feel the need to expand so much? Imperialism? Or was it Manifest Destiny?) Ever wonder why there are so many pigeons and no pigeon cemeteries—here is why. (Warning: that link is not for the faint.)

2.      They themselves have no fear.

Pigeons hover near trains, on cliffs, and amidst the masses. While they have short lives and are at danger constantly, they face it all with a flap of the wing and a peck of the beak. This courage is to be respected and feared.

3.      They make very large men jump back on the El platform.

This man was easily 60 times the size of the pigeon, yet when the pigeon suddenly, unexpectedly flew from its perch, the man leaped backward out of instinctive impulse. Said man shot me a hostile look when I accidently brushed him as I passed; after seeing his reaction to a pigeon, his attempt at intimidation was laughable.

4.      They are disgusting

You don’t know where those talons have been. Ew.

5.      They are invasive. 

Not including their ubiquity in urban streets and public transit, I have personal, up-close experience with unwelcome pigeon-guests… twice in India pigeons flew in through the vent my bathroom and had to be shooed out of my bedroom. Leave me alone, pigeons.

Curse the pigeons.

 

 Don't get me started on seagulls. Did you know there are seagulls in Chicago??

Woolly Mammoth Chicago

You know how sometimes you go to antique stores and find really fancy, classy things. That's nice.

You know how sometimes you go to antique stores and find really weird things. Let's call this Chicago store one of the second places.

And it is amazing. At least they warn you in their name: Woolly Mammoth: antiques & oddities.

Still, you may not be expecting to see things that are this... odd... and hilarious... and dare I say, genius:

Yes, that is a horse's tail.

At another store in the neighborhood, there is also this what I can only imagine is deerhide chair for your dining room:

You're welcome, world. I know you were missing a little bit of the bizarre in your life this morning.

The Festy City

This weekend there were five significant festivals going on in town. We went to three of them.

Lit fest on Printers Row:

Four blocks of books--new, used, and locally authored--resulted in my next commute read. We Band of Angels is the true story of Army and Navy nurses who were bombed, set up a field hospital in the jungle, and were imprisoned for three years in Japan during WWII. I'm already hooked.

Midsommarfest in Andersonville:

Photos need only tell the tale--

Bogey joined us for the festivities

Meet the Windy City Cowboys

They are a-mazing.

Ribfest in Lincoln Square:

 

A vegetarian, a gluten-free-ian, and an omnivore go to a fest.

I've always thought of New Orleans as the festival town... and I hate to say anything even close to less than all-positive about that fair, beautiful city... but with multiple festivals scheduled nearly every weekend all summer long, I think Chicago must be the City of Fests. The Festy City may be just as apt as the Windy City for a Chicago nickname.


I think the Snyder sisters had a good time too.

PS - I realized today that "festy" conjures the word "festering" to mind, which is probably the reason that there is no Festy City. Fine, we'll stick to the Windy City.
 

National Hug Your Cat Day

I found out under the wire that today is National Hug Your Cat Day-- thanks, Facebook!


The truth is, I make it a point of hugging Zoe every day just to make sure she knows I care. This has been my instruction to each of her caretakers over the years, too. She acts like she is fine being unnoticed, but when you meet her where she is (or snatch her up as she stalks by), she often purrs and from time to time ends up sitting for long periods of time in a lap. She just doesn't always like to initiate things. That's her way. She's aloof like that. It's part of her charm.

Zoe and I, years ago - life is basically the same today.

Pure aloof charm.

I give Bogey (the dog) quite a bit of attention on the blog. He's kind of an attention whore. He's also a charmer and hilariously laid back. Zoe is less keen on the media exposure.. and the attention, frankly. (See the Blogess' post on the dangers of National Hug Your Cat Day. Though Zoe is not a claw-er, other cat owners are to be warned.)

I feel like parenting a cat like Zoe and a dog like Bogey (who happens to be one of the cuddliest creatures known to man) is a lot like the parenting my mom conducted in mothering a kid like me amidst the outgoing, sociable, talkative siblings I grew up with.

Me, the introverted, introspective, pensive, middle child surrounded by extroverts. Sometimes, the extroverts are just more visible by their nature. They certainly are better at voicing their needs, especially those pesky emotional ones. Sometimes they just get more attention. And honestly, the introverts don't want it that much.

It must have been tough to balance that attention giving amongst the four of us, for my mom. And yet she, like me, hugged her introvert against her will. And every once in a while, I appreciated it.

Happy Hug Your Cat Day! (It's special because it's rare.)