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. :-)