The Room

I went with a group of charming people to see "The Room" at The Music Box tonight. It was awesome. This is a fabulously horrible cult classic complete with heckling. There are bountiful sex scenes, stock shots of San Francisco, and plot lines that are introduced and never heard from again. It was an absolute delight. I came up with a new thing for the group to shout: "Boobies!" Because, well, there were lots of boobies. Well, really just lots of shots of one booby, but every time that booby was on screen I shouted "boobies!" and it eventually caught on.

I would spoil the plot if it were possible...

On our walk from the movie to a pizza joint we found a passed out drunk dude. My friend Andi and I did what all petite girls are taught to do and scurried passed quickly and close together. My friend Ryan, however, is a well brought up midwestern boy and he made sure the guy was alive and called an ambulance. So that was more adventure!

After the movie and ordeal we went to a pizza place called Ian's and got s'mores pizza! This is a wonderfully well thought out food that left me very pleased with my eating experience. Brilliant I say! The place seemed to have all sorts of inspired ideas for pizza toppings and we agreed we would go back soon. Yum-o.

An all around fabulous Saturday night in Chicago.

Catch-up Blog

I went to a Passion Pit concert in Milwaukee. An hour and half car ride with seven music hungry hipster girls, but all in all a good time.

I spent Easter orphaned, but not alone. My pal Ryan played the roles of all family members. We picniced in Lincoln Park and then splashed in puddles all the way to get Ghiradelli's Hot Fudge Sundaes. It was awesome.

I have now been to a handful of Chicago stand-up open mic's. I am having a blast trying out different things. I'm learning a lot.

I learned a valuable life lesson:

Dancing naked to Pearl Jam in your apartment is dangerous and can lead you to not hear people at your front door who show up to look at your apartment three hours early. ...hypothetically...

My friend Cameron visited from California and spent the weekend with me. Having him around was awesome. It was a little slice of home. It was delightful. :-)

I went to a Ben Folds concert which was soooo good! The gal that opened for him totally rocked too. Katie Miller-Heidke was her name. The whole thing was acoustic and lovely and wonderful.

Today I climbed into a trash can that was disguised as a giant coffee cup and poured coffee all over myself. For details on the effects this event has had on my crime fighting skills see previous post.

Coffee-Becky Hybrid

Today my DNA fused with coffee. I realize this is the type of hyperbole I am prone to making to depict my deep and passionate relationship with the bean, but todays events were deeper then that. Nerdy guys tend to be dropped into vats of toxic waste or bitten by radioactive spiders when the time comes to understand their calling and fulfill a destiny of crime fighting.

I tend to walk on the wild side. I literally bathed in coffee today, coating myself inside and out with my beloved beverage. I now have super powers. My super powers are similar to that of a super ball in that I can bounce to great heights and across great distances. Even off the walls, should the occasion arise.

I swam in coffee for a performance art piece for a class final. I thought working with coffee would be fun because it is my truest love, but now we've spent so much time together preparing for the piece and performing the piece that the lingering smell of coffee that is infused into my skin is no longer cherished. I still love you, coffee. I just need a little space right now.

Chicago Small Talk

I'm sitting in Starbucks writing. This is a very common haunt of mine but tonight I can't sit still. I know I'm beating this whole nice weather thing over the head a bit, but it is all anyone can think about.

Chicago is a weather obsessed society. At first I thought it was just the weather chat in my elevator, but no: it's everyone. You'd think it would become incredibly dull after a while: comment after redundant comment on how snowy it is, how windy it is, how cold it is, how nice its getting, etc. Here is the thing: it doesn't get old. When someone starts talking about the weather I bubble up with gratitude that someone has finally brought it up again!! Its all I can think about from my elevator down in the morning! If I am deprived from the opportunity to talk about it again on the ride up to my apartment, I might explode.

That is what is so amazing about Chicago, everyone is on the same page. Here everyone walks or takes the el. They are out in the world. Suffering in the cold, rejoicing in the sun, lamenting another packed train with your head in someone's armpit.

In LA, everyone hates the traffic, but they are in their own little bubble. They are separated from everyone else, so its everyone else's fault that the traffic sucks. There is no unity.

In Chicago, everyone might be grumpy about the CTA, but they are grumpy together. The camaraderie is enveloping. Now it is enhanced by the delight of the weather. Everyone is happy and horny. Couples are smiling at outdoor tables at every restaurant, drunk men beckon in front of every bar, and I sit next to a giant window, on the edge of my seat waiting for a pal to join me for an adventure. I love Chicago.

In a Pickle

Today I watched a guy who I was until very recently attracted to eat an end of a pickle and meet in the middle with a girl. Albeit a very astute Lady and the Tramp reference: Gross. The only things I hate more then situations that make me uncomfortable are pickles.

Now I'm off to a sketch show at io. A pickle free environment in every sense of the word.

I'm sure you remember this

Definitely no more digging friends' cars out of snow!

How 'bout this?

No more pretty snow blanketed view out my window.

Remember This?

Sure won't be any snowy trees hanging around anymore.

It's Spring!

All of Chicago was smiling today. It was 76 degrees and everyone came outside to play and celebrate that spring is finally here. Walking down the street, every eating establishment was serving people outside. Diners, cafes, coffee shops, fancy restaurants; you name it, they were buzzing. Even the Chipotle my friend Jenn and I ate lunch at had it's giant windows open to let in the beautiful day.

I was tricked two weeks ago into thinking spring had come. There were two gorgeous days of sundresses and sandals, then bam. Snow. Not fun snow either. Slushy snow that pelted you in the eye. I was afraid to get too excited about the weather (in case Pelty Snow McGee decided to come back) but the locals confirmed. It's Spring!

Lady killa

Watch out ladies: there is a very suave man on the loose.  I'm not sure how he found me but I received this very tempting facebook message today from an unknown user:

Hi I am Saleem I want To Friend Ship With U Because U are a Very cute And Gorgeous So Cute

What he lacks in syntax, he makes up for with Enthusiastic Capitalization... I think he may be the one.

Belly Dancing

I had my first belly dancing class today.  It was super fun and I am excited about it.  All the ladies were very nice and no one seemed insulted by the sight of my jiggling ass, so I think I've found life long friends.

In fact, they even recommended a part of town where I can get one of those pretty, noise making waist scarves that will more then likely draw even more attention to the aforementioned jiggling ass.  

The class is taught at Old Town School of Folk Music, which (as luck would have it) is not actually in Old Town.  I live in Old Town, so the surprise commute was a bit of a let down, but that aside, it is a very cool school.  They teach everything cool there.  Dancing of all styles, music of all instruments, all ages are welcome.  I really dug the place.

Sketch vs Life

So, I’m in a sketch for my acting class called “Pictionary” and it’s a classic Second City sketch that everyone loves and is very famous, but here is the thing: I don’t think it’s funny.  I’m trying.  I’ve read it many times, I’ve watched it several times and I am now performing it in class but it has never summoned more then a couple chuckles from me.

I think the reason everyone loves this sketch so much is because everyone relates to it.  The sketch is about two couples having a game nigh.  The girls are happy because they are kicking butt and the guys are pissed cause they are losing and they argue and take things way to seriously.  Everyone has been in this situation before so most people can laugh at the fact that it’s just like game night with their family only funnier…

I think this may be where the disconnect is for me:  My family is crazy.  Though the characters in the sketch are admittedly quite bonkers, they cannot top my family.  Listening to two characters argue will simply never have the same comedic affect as hearing Uncle Jason insist (for the millionth time) that he “invented this game first.”  He has a bone to pick with everyone from the creators of Monopoly to the creators of Tic-Tac-Toe.  Run Mattel, run while you can.

Top Ten Pieces of Evidence that I Suck at Naming Things:

10)   At six years old I wanted to name my dog Pocahontas

9)      I usually don’t title my songs until someone requests one; then I just use the name they call it by.

8)      When AIM was cool, my screenname was an AC/DC reference no one got and that I am too embarrassed to state.

7)      At five years old I named my bird (who still lives at my parents house) Princess Tweety Bird

6)      I named this blog “A Californian in Chicago” thinking it was a clever and obvious homage to “An American in Paris”

5)      The title of every sketch I have written for my sketch writing class thus far has the word sketch in the title

4)      The title of this list could be much more concise

3)      I consistently call any group or team I am a part of “Team Awesome”

2)      My iTunes has approximately 350 untitled tracks on it

1)      Whatever the hell I named the document file for my midterm was so not memorable I can’t even find it!

 

Dear Chicago

Dear Chicago,

I am laying awake using wireless internet on my laptop that must be plugged in at all times to distract myself.  I have been gazing dreamily out my window at you for the last half hour.  You are beautiful.  You’ve completely romanced me, Chicago, you old rascal you.  I’m looking at your streets glowing slightly orange and your sky threatening to snow, and I feel wooed. 

My instinct is to be in the moment; I don’t want to think, Chicago.  If I’m having a good time and you’re having a good time, everything is as it should be; we’ll figure things out as they come.  It would be fine by me to just have a blast and then when it’s time for me to go home we can talk.  And then I’m sure one of these things will come up: Chicago, maybe this just is what it is.  I’ll go back to California and  I’ll see you around, maybe for a layover or a visit.  We’ll smile at each other and say “We’ll always have Illinois!”  Or maybe, Chicago, the timing is just not quite right yet, and I’ll go home for a while and then later, when I’m ready to leave home and you have an apartment open up that is magically affordable and wonderful, we’ll see if we want to give things a shot.  But just maybe, Chicago, our adventure isn’t over.  Maybe I should just stay put and let everything else sort itself out so we can keep having fun. 

I’m thinking aloud at this point, Chicago.  I’m not going to know the answers for a while, but I am starting to doubt my ability to make this decision alone, so I’m just throwing this out there.  Letting you know what is going on in the back of my mind.  I don’t want you thinking too hard about it though.  For now, I’m going to soak you up and we are going to have a blast.

Sweet Dreams, Chicago.

Back Online

I finally have Internet in my apartment! 

It is wonderful.  Though it's true that there is free wifi in just about any cafe or coffee shop on my street, there is something magical about the anonymity of using the Internet at home.  I'm sure there are those with more exotic habits then I who would agree even more fervently with that statement, but I felt it. 

It was the moderately embarrassing things that I missed the most:

Catching up on this season of Scrubs

Watching clips from Teen Witch

Harvesting crops on Farmville

As soon as I finished my homework: that was the night I had.  Mmmmm.... Farmville.

Internet Hunt on a Sunday Afternoon

Here is the thing about the internet in Chicago: it is everywhere.  

...Except my apartment...

Piercing

So, my girlfriends Andi and Jenn and I celebrated Mardi Gras with a box of Franzia this year.  It was a wonderful evening of man hating, girl talk, and drunken sketch writing.  At some point among our drunk texting and other debauchery we decided we needed to celebrate how badass we are with a piercing.  Being women of our words, the next evening in complete sobriety we followed through with our plan.

 All three of us were getting our upper ears pierced as a sort of grown up badass friendship bracelet-like gesture.  The three of us had a wonderful evening… the girl who got pierced just before us did not…

While we were chilling on the waiting room couch we over heard that she was getting her hoohaw pierced.  All of us cringed as she went into the back because… well… who the HELL would ever do that!?

 We didn’t think to long about it because we were busy joking and laughing in the waiting room until all of a sudden: we heard it…

Moans of pain accompanied by shaky wails that seemed to say, “Why did I do this?”  I for one was on the wails side, why the hell would you do that!

 It was horrible enough to know what was going on, but listening to her I felt horrible and dirty and violated and awful.  I felt like I was listening to someone being raped.  It was grotesque.

 She eventually came out.  Waddling.  Trying to walk with her legs touching as little as possible… I hope that waddle makes you feel real sexy crazy face…

 When it was our turn it was hard to look at the guy piercing our ears without thinking “I know what you just did…”

 

Toto, we aren't in California anymore...

The first week I was here I had a “oh my god, I am scared why am I here?” moment.  

The weather had been so tolerable that I was caught unprepared one night when my (at the time newly befriended) pals Alan and Andi and I went to see a show at io.  I had decided my converse would be a fine footwear choice, and I really wouldn’t need my hat and scarf... FALSE!  I was freezing.  My ass was completely numb and I wasn’t convinced I had any toes.  Alan let me snuggle inside his coat and Andi stood on the other side of me blocking my behind from the cold while I, knees literally knocking sang, “I wish they all could be California girls…”  

The bus finally came, so I was no longer in eminent danger of becoming a Becky-sicle, then came the point in our journey when the three of us split in different directions.  I got on the right rail line and got off at the right stop and took off walking in the “right” direction.  I had been walking for ages when all of a sudden the road I was on dead ended and it occurred to me that I had absolutely no clue where I was.

I was terrified.  I didn’t recognize any of the quiet streets I was near and there was not a taxi to be seen.  I just kept going, and even though my stress level was beyond anything I’d ever endured, I couldn’t help but be completely dazzled when it began to snow.  It was my first time seeing the little white flakes dance down in front of the skyscraper backdrop.  I was completely charmed, but none-the-less on my guard and power walking toward an all night deli I spotted.  I went inside and asked a worker for a number for a cab company…

“Just go around the side into the ally and you’ll find a cab” the guy told me.

“Oh, right, the alley.” I said, reveling in my abundant knowledge of what happens to women in movies when they wander into alleys in Chicago.

“No seriously, go look, if there isn’t one, come back and I’ll call you a cab.”

I cautiously walked over to what turned out not be an ally, but the parking lot of a cab company…

There were around forty empty cabs, and as I approached a man walked out of the building that presumably held the drivers.

He said something along the lines of “ooooweee, girl!” as he lit a cigarette.  I then had quite possibly the coolest moment of my life: I channeled the spirit of Mae West.

“Can one of these cabs take a girl where she’s trying to go or are they just here for decoration?” Mae West Me asked coolly.

Apparently this guy was as surprised by my coolness as I was because he put out his cigarette and ran in to get me a driver who took me home.

It cost me three dollars to get home, so I couldn’t have been more then a handful of blocks away.  It is now easy to laugh at myself, but at the time, that was a reasonably terrifying event.  Good thing Mae West Me was there to save the day.

Snow Day! ...except with school still...

I woke up the other day and the whole world was covered in a beautiful blanket of fresh white snow.  Out my window, it looked like the whole city had been tucked in, and the snow continued to softly kiss the buildings and roads.  I had seen snow before and it had snowed lightly a few times earlier in the week, but this was my first experience with solid snowfall.  I adored walking around in it. I loved the feel of it under my feet.  

Walking in snow is a lot like walking on the sand... only if you were barefoot your feet would fall off...

I really love the way snow sits in the hair that pokes out of the front of hats or decorates peoples jackets.  My black coat is completely validated when covered in flecks of white.  I soaked through two pairs of shoes before I finally acquiesced to my feet’s wishes and put on my snow boots.  Now, I have not worn my snow boots since I was twelve and went to sixth grade science camp, yet somehow they are mystically two or three sizes too big.  Your guess is as good as mine.  

I love snow.

Implication

Okay, so I realize that by posting "I made friends today" then neglecting this blog I have implied that bloggers have no friends, but I did not mean it. :-) 

I don't presently have the internet, so I am currently stealing it from my friend Andi.  I will attempt to catch up everything that has been going on during the blips of time I can get online. For now, accept my deepest apologies for my disregard. :-)

Orientation Day

I made friends today.   :-)

I live on a Cloud

This is the view from my window.  I got the keys to my apartment today.  It is awesome.  I’m up in the clouds like a princess in a tower or a kid in a tree house; two of my favorite ways to live.  The view out my window, which is actually just one of my walls, has been completely hypnotic every time I’ve entered the room.  I am literally next door to Second City, and love this little studio so much, I don’t even care that I presently have nothing to put inside but some clothes, my guitar and a ukulele.  

Truth in Cheese

Okay, so this is a little bit cheesy... but I think it is important for me to remember why I am doing this in the first place.  This was one of my application essays for the program, and while some of it is a little bit cheesy, its real cheese.  Cheddar Cheese.  No faux nacho cheese sauce here.

How do you see this program fitting into your college or future career plans?

            I’ve looked, I’ve hunted, and I’ve read the course catalog cover to cover; but there is no available degree in smart asserie.  Though many professors would vouch that I would be a perfect candidate, the cold and distant bureaucracy of Cal State Fullerton will not allow me such a personalized major.  The omission of this course of study has made finding a realistic choice of major more challenging.  Ultimately, I am sure the juice has been worth the squeeze.  I have traversed through classes and majors, and I have full confidence that everything I have learned, and continue to learn is a gift to my future. 

            I have explored several majors within the vein of entertainment, and have found in Radio, TV and Film the closest thing to my ideal major. This major gives me a well-rounded perspective on media, while allowing me to focus on writing and to participate in acting in student projects. It also allows a large number of elective courses that can be tailored to my interests. The Comedy Studies program is particularly suitable for me, as it would give me the opportunity to focus on what I am most passionate about while earning college credit.  At school I put a comedic voice to my writing, but being taught to write comedy by people who write comedy is a thrilling prospect.

            Through all of my adventure within my university education, I have been consistent in my study of improvised comedy.  Twice a week I brave Los Angeles traffic to learn and perform with ComedySportz: The College Team.  This group is my sorority, my study group, my most insightful professors and my friends.  Three years as a part of this group and I am still in awe of the talent that surrounds me. Though, I admit, I have a difficult time remembering this while I am scrubbing toilets to earn my classes, I have been very fortunate in the opportunities I have been given.  However, I am not content to learn from one point of view, I also take classes at IO West, and watch shows at any comedy theater I can find.  It is my hope that Second City will give me yet another viewpoint on comedy.  I am keen on investigating another angle for improvisation, but am also eager to dive more fully into sketch comedy.  Though I have dabbled in sketch writing and acted in several sketches designed by friends, I have not explored that side of comedy as thoroughly as improv.

 

There it is.  Exactly what I thought I was getting myself into back in August.  While laying on the beach... in the sun.... we'll see how it goes.

Chicago in French

We ate lunch at a place called The Bistro Zinc.  It was a charming little french restaurant owned by a charming little woman.  While chatting with her, my studying at Second City came up and from there I learned that Stephen Colbert used to work for her.  

I was delighted by this because Stephen Colbert is one of my personal heroes.  

She told me a little bit about his background, as far as she remembered.

He came from a huge Irish Catholic family that naturally lived in a loud and boisterous home, until it was abruptly silenced by the death of his dad and brothers.  From that point on, his skills as a comedian were honed by an endless effort to make his mom smile.  He had told her very candidly about his past, and while he worked for her, she knew him as a sweet, funny man and a devoted father.  He sounded like a good egg to me, and my admiration for him felt reaffirmed by this personal account.  She told me I had excellent taste in role models. :-)

While my mom was in the restroom of this same establishment, a woman tried to start up a conversation with her in French.  The woman asked her (in French) if she enjoyed her meal.  My mom just giggled and blushed until the woman translated for her.  When she got back to our table, my mom said she wished I was the one to talk to the lady because I would have enjoyed it.  I thought about this.  If my French tests last semester are any indication, the only French response I could have given the woman would have translated too, "Yes.  And I wear blue pants."

If the detailed account of the eating tour is a little too food oriented at the moment, I apologize, just know it won't last.  I honestly wish it could, but in a few days when my parents head back to California, I will be switching back to the starving college kid food plan which won't be interesting enough to write about... unless I find a way to make Top Ramen taste like a Spinach Brie Crepe...

The rest of the day was spent continuing the apartment search until the evening when I went over to meet some friends of a close friend back home.  They were delightful people, and gave me a glimpse of what it will feel like here when I am no longer in "vacation mode."

The Hunt

Apartment hunting was the name of the game today.  We wandered all over Old Town looking for a place. 

I love buildings that don’t have a thirteenth floor.  The people on the fourteenth floor have got to know what’s up.

I haven’t completely settled on a place yet, but I’ve narrowed it down a bit and have some good leads on where I’m going to get stuff to go in my (as of yet) conceptual apartment.

We went to an art supply store so I could buy supplies to start making my own decorations... we shall see how that goes.

The guy that worked at the store couldn’t understand why I had moved away from California to live in Illinois… that really put things into perspective for me.

When I think about the fact that I am in Chicago, that sounds totally cool, but when I look at the bigger picture: that I am in Illinois, that does not seem totally cool.  Anthropologically speaking I suppose I can infer that the culture allows the average Chicago native to see the world more broadly then the average California native… you know, or just me.

The Eating tour of Chicago continues:

-Big Bowl: Fresh Chinese and Thai

Three words: Ginger Crème Brule. Yum-o.

Today was my first day in Chicago.

We flew in last night, but today was my first official day.

I love it.  It is absolutely beautiful.  There are brick buildings everywhere, there are patches of snow on the ground, and for the first time in my life my excellent taste in winter fashion has a purpose. 

My parents are with me for a few days to get me settled, as I still have nowhere to live.  We’re staying in a hotel in downtown, so we did a little bit of exploring.  We mostly just walked around and tried to grasp the lay of the land.

Aside from self-discovery and anthropological research, the main reason I am here is to spend a semester studying comedy full time at Second City.  I saw the training center today.  I didn’t get too close, just flirted from a distance.  I will be entirely familiar with it soon enough, for now I’ll be coy.

 The eating tour of Chicago also began today, and I must highly recommend both establishments we ate at:

-Nookie’s

Nookie’s is a little café in Old Town.  It is fantastic.  They serve breakfast all day, and serve it right.  Rampant appetites at our breakfast table this morning lead my parents and I to order way more food then we should, but we still managed to make a lot of it disappear.  My mom was charmed by her Denver Omelet and my father thoroughly enjoyed his gravy, ham, and grits.  Personally, I feel that if a restaurant can convince someone they’ve enjoyed a pile of grits, they must be good.  Or hypnotists.  I had the king of breakfast: a sampler platter of assorted pancakes that follow in order of deliciousness:

1.)   Chocolate Chip Pancakes

2.)   Carrot Cake Pancakes

3.)   Bread Pudding Pancakes

4.)   Lemon Poppy Seed Pancakes

Aside from my hearty recommendation of their pancakes, let me also sing the praises of their coffee, which was the best coffee I’ve had in a very long time, and I drink a lot of coffee.

  

-Gino’s East

This Pizzeria is exactly what I wanted a Chicago pizzeria to be.  The walls are covered with beer logos and graffiti drawn and autographed by pizza fans.  The house salad dressing was delicious and the pizza was, of course, fantastic.  The one thing I was not expecting: the sauce was on top of the rest of the pizza.  I’m not sure if this is a Chicago thing, or was just that restaurant thing, or maybe they just do it to hide the spinach from kids on their Spinach and Cheese pizza.  I will have to collect more data to answer these questions.

 An Anthropological note I observed at Gino’s:

The whole place is completely covered, wall-to-wall, layer after layer of names and pictures and “so and so was here”s, except for the bathroom.  In the bathroom there were a half dozen paper signs that read “This is a no graffiti zone: please do not write on the bathroom walls” I was very impressed to see how quickly the Chicago natives got on board with this concept.  Not a single line was drawn on a wall, except for the several dozen hand written words that said “Ya! No writing on the walls!”  Chicagoans seem very community minded.

The Countdown Begins.

Today is the first day of the new year, and the countdown begins.  I leave for Chicago on January 16th, and am to live there for a semester.  This may not seem like a big thing to some, but having lived my full twenty years in the temperate environmental bubble of Southern California, for me, it is a BIG Thing.  

I am willingly throwing myself into "the tundra" (as my mother has lovingly nick-named Chicago) in order to immerse myself in comedy and music... and hopefully develop some immunity to low temperatures.

Will it be cold? Yes.  

Will I know anyone when I get there? No. 

Will it be awesome? You can bet your ass. 

Cheers :-)