It's true what they say, you can always come home. Even if sometimes it means biding time stuck on a train en route and sleeping on an air mattress once you get there.
After a long day traveling via bus-El-plane-T-commuter rail (which I was stuck on outside Union Station for an extra hour and a half due to a derailed train in front of us), I finally made it home safely. I was welcomed with open arms... and also an egg nog and whiskey (thanks to my sister!).
I was reminded of home almost immediately upon my return; I ran into an old college friend in South Station (Boston) and a new friend in Union Station (Worcester). In my short stay so far, I've learned that despite the air mattress and rearranged room, not much has changed around here. And no matter how much things may change, friends and family stay the same. And I plan on spending the next three weeks enjoying it!
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Observations from O’Hare Part II
Two weeks later, I find myself once again sitting in another terminal in O’Hare. This time I’m flying American home for the holidays. I’ve flown United so much in the last couple years that I have become a Terminal 1 snob. I feel out of place in this Terminal 3… far less moving sidewalks, no intercom reminder to wash your hands and no hot pilots sitting across from me. What a bummer. Despite the differences, I am going to try to come up with some humorous observations once again…
-A different terminal, another man walking around without his shoes on.
-Instead of a hot pilot, I am sitting across from a guy wearing a Yankees hat. I wonder if he realizes this is a flight to BOSTON (speaking of, good-bye Mike Lowell, parting is such sweet sorrow!)
-Holy crap, some guy is wearing shorts. I wonder if HE realizes this is a flight to Boston!
-The kid in the Yankees hat is making plans with some people to go out in Boston in the North End. Good decision to avoid the Fenway.
-McDonald’s is the number one food choice in this terminal as it was in the United one last month. This kid just opened his Big Mac and I started drooling all over my cute new green puffy vest.
-Looking around, I think I am the only girl on this flight.
-Here comes a pilot… but he’s old. Maybe I should see if they have a suggestion box where I can request cuter, younger pilots to stare at while I wait for my flight.
-There is a guy here that makes me wonder… is he famous or important or does he just like to act like he is? I’m going with the latter; he might have a first class ticket which could explain his behavior. And his turtleneck.
-The Big Mac kid is wearing a Northwestern sweatshirt. Should have worn my DePaul hoodie and we could have had a staring contest to see whose school is better. My cute green (and reversible) vest trumps his purple attire.
-There is a girl in a pair of boots, but they look more like dead animals wrapped around her legs.
-The man sitting across from me looks like a younger version of my late Uncle George. I have the urge to give him a hug.
-I just spied the Yankee hat kid's name tag dangling from his carry on. He has two first names. Never trust a man with two first names... especially if he is wearing a Yankee hat.
Time to go! Boston, here I come!
-A different terminal, another man walking around without his shoes on.
-Instead of a hot pilot, I am sitting across from a guy wearing a Yankees hat. I wonder if he realizes this is a flight to BOSTON (speaking of, good-bye Mike Lowell, parting is such sweet sorrow!)
-Holy crap, some guy is wearing shorts. I wonder if HE realizes this is a flight to Boston!
-The kid in the Yankees hat is making plans with some people to go out in Boston in the North End. Good decision to avoid the Fenway.
-McDonald’s is the number one food choice in this terminal as it was in the United one last month. This kid just opened his Big Mac and I started drooling all over my cute new green puffy vest.
-Looking around, I think I am the only girl on this flight.
-Here comes a pilot… but he’s old. Maybe I should see if they have a suggestion box where I can request cuter, younger pilots to stare at while I wait for my flight.
-There is a guy here that makes me wonder… is he famous or important or does he just like to act like he is? I’m going with the latter; he might have a first class ticket which could explain his behavior. And his turtleneck.
-The Big Mac kid is wearing a Northwestern sweatshirt. Should have worn my DePaul hoodie and we could have had a staring contest to see whose school is better. My cute green (and reversible) vest trumps his purple attire.
-There is a girl in a pair of boots, but they look more like dead animals wrapped around her legs.
-The man sitting across from me looks like a younger version of my late Uncle George. I have the urge to give him a hug.
-I just spied the Yankee hat kid's name tag dangling from his carry on. He has two first names. Never trust a man with two first names... especially if he is wearing a Yankee hat.
Time to go! Boston, here I come!
Wrapping my head around it
On Monday, I made good use of my spare time and volunteered to wrap gifts for children. Lydia House is a non-profit organization that supports children and families in Illinois. Several different organizations rely on Lydia House to make Christmas and the holidays a good time for kids in foster care, mothers with infants who need help, among others. However, I was not quite prepared for what I experienced.
Instead of sitting at a table wrapping a pile of gifts in front of me, I walked into the gymnasium and there were boxes everywhere, piled on top of each other all around the room, kind of like a giant fort. Each box had a name on it with a wish list from the child. These lists are then distributed to different churches, organizations and individuals who would like to donate to this great cause. When I got there, there wasn’t much to wrap—just a pile of winter hats knit by a women’s group for the occasion. We distributed the wrapped hats to different boxes, looking for the hat color to match the child’s favorite color if possible.
About an hour later, a “delivery” was made. It took about 20 minutes to unload all of the gifts and the room was filled with bags and bags of unwrapped gifts. I was a little overwhelmed with the amount of presents that were donated in that one delivery. Not because I had to try my hand at wrapping some of them (I barely made a minuscule dent during my shift), but by the generosity of the people who donated them.
Even during a recession, people are still willing to give to others. It’s a humbling experience like this that renews one’s faith in the human race. My parents are good people and have always set an example of giving for their children; they even have two little gift requests hanging on the refrigerator at their house. It’s really nice to see that there are a lot more people out there who would sacrifice the equivalent of a week of Starbucks coffee in order to make someone’s holiday a little better. On the news all you hear is bad news—robberies, muggings, deaths, the sinking economy and unemployment rates. No wonder half the country is on Prozac and the other half is obese from eating in order to escape the dreary depression of the real world. I just don’t watch the news. Perhaps I would if more occasions like the one I witnessed in the gymnasium that day would be caught on camera.
I think I fulfilled my love and quota for wrapping gifts this holiday season… and I haven’t even started wrapping my own yet! Good think I’m traveling light this Christmas (just kidding, Megan) ;)
Instead of sitting at a table wrapping a pile of gifts in front of me, I walked into the gymnasium and there were boxes everywhere, piled on top of each other all around the room, kind of like a giant fort. Each box had a name on it with a wish list from the child. These lists are then distributed to different churches, organizations and individuals who would like to donate to this great cause. When I got there, there wasn’t much to wrap—just a pile of winter hats knit by a women’s group for the occasion. We distributed the wrapped hats to different boxes, looking for the hat color to match the child’s favorite color if possible.
About an hour later, a “delivery” was made. It took about 20 minutes to unload all of the gifts and the room was filled with bags and bags of unwrapped gifts. I was a little overwhelmed with the amount of presents that were donated in that one delivery. Not because I had to try my hand at wrapping some of them (I barely made a minuscule dent during my shift), but by the generosity of the people who donated them.
Even during a recession, people are still willing to give to others. It’s a humbling experience like this that renews one’s faith in the human race. My parents are good people and have always set an example of giving for their children; they even have two little gift requests hanging on the refrigerator at their house. It’s really nice to see that there are a lot more people out there who would sacrifice the equivalent of a week of Starbucks coffee in order to make someone’s holiday a little better. On the news all you hear is bad news—robberies, muggings, deaths, the sinking economy and unemployment rates. No wonder half the country is on Prozac and the other half is obese from eating in order to escape the dreary depression of the real world. I just don’t watch the news. Perhaps I would if more occasions like the one I witnessed in the gymnasium that day would be caught on camera.
I think I fulfilled my love and quota for wrapping gifts this holiday season… and I haven’t even started wrapping my own yet! Good think I’m traveling light this Christmas (just kidding, Megan) ;)
Saturday, December 5, 2009
A Saturday Wait-and-Skate-fest
"We live in the best city in the world," said Elli as we walked toward to El heading home.
I smiled and nodded. We had just spent the last few hours at Millennium Park downtown enjoying the public ice rink. And we weren't the only ones. The line for rental skates wrapped around nearly the entire rink, which was probably the same size as an NHL rink. But the hour and a half wait was worth the blast we had when we actually stepped on the ice.
While we waited in line, we occupied ourselves by criticizing the technique of the skaters on the ice. And some of the outfit choices of the women, cringing at the ones who weren't wearing any gloves, and laughing at the woman who thought it was appropriate to wear a mid-drift top and an open jacket for an afternoon of ice skating. Our favorite skater to watch was Brian Boitano, or a man who thought he was the legendary pro. He was a middle aged man, with ragged hair covered by a baseball cap and he was clad in jeans and a tight shirt. He weaved through the crowd, switching between backward and forward glides, tossing in the occasional spin. But when Mr. Wanna Be Boitano came across and empty area, he slipped in a little leap or a standing sit spin move, complete with elegant arms. We decided he must have been a competitive figure skater at some point in his life. Sadly, he was nowhere to be found when we got our turn to show off our moves.
While we didn't skate for nearly as long as we waited in line (I don't think we could have taken anymore of the cold!), gliding around the rink laughing at ourselves stumbling (okay, maybe that was just me doing the stumbling) around a giant oval over and over again was such a fun time. I haven't been ice skating in seven years, since I visited the rink in Boston during college (Boston's rink is a LOT smaller than this one is and in Chicago no one yells at you if you touch or hold on to the railings or take a break on the edge of the rink). I thought I would fall on my face, or have a bruised rear end by the time we were done with the adventure, but I only lightly tumbled to the ice twice (both times in the same place) and it took a good 15 minutes for the first spill to take place! We hit the ice after the Zamboni freshly cleaned the ice, causing me to be doubled over from the get-go and nearly falling on my face from the slippery surface, but I recovered quickly once I got my footing and as soon as the ice got chewed up from all the dozens of other skaters lapping me.
Our toes and noses were so frozen by 4 p.m. that we decided to return our skates and continue the festivities with a cup of hot chocolate back at the apartment in order to defrost. But as we walked to the El, we both agreed that Chicago is truly an amazing city. And that ice skating is still really fun, no matter how old--or bad--we are (or just me, Elli's pretty good!).
I smiled and nodded. We had just spent the last few hours at Millennium Park downtown enjoying the public ice rink. And we weren't the only ones. The line for rental skates wrapped around nearly the entire rink, which was probably the same size as an NHL rink. But the hour and a half wait was worth the blast we had when we actually stepped on the ice.While we waited in line, we occupied ourselves by criticizing the technique of the skaters on the ice. And some of the outfit choices of the women, cringing at the ones who weren't wearing any gloves, and laughing at the woman who thought it was appropriate to wear a mid-drift top and an open jacket for an afternoon of ice skating. Our favorite skater to watch was Brian Boitano, or a man who thought he was the legendary pro. He was a middle aged man, with ragged hair covered by a baseball cap and he was clad in jeans and a tight shirt. He weaved through the crowd, switching between backward and forward glides, tossing in the occasional spin. But when Mr. Wanna Be Boitano came across and empty area, he slipped in a little leap or a standing sit spin move, complete with elegant arms. We decided he must have been a competitive figure skater at some point in his life. Sadly, he was nowhere to be found when we got our turn to show off our moves.
While we didn't skate for nearly as long as we waited in line (I don't think we could have taken anymore of the cold!), gliding around the rink laughing at ourselves stumbling (okay, maybe that was just me doing the stumbling) around a giant oval over and over again was such a fun time. I haven't been ice skating in seven years, since I visited the rink in Boston during college (Boston's rink is a LOT smaller than this one is and in Chicago no one yells at you if you touch or hold on to the railings or take a break on the edge of the rink). I thought I would fall on my face, or have a bruised rear end by the time we were done with the adventure, but I only lightly tumbled to the ice twice (both times in the same place) and it took a good 15 minutes for the first spill to take place! We hit the ice after the Zamboni freshly cleaned the ice, causing me to be doubled over from the get-go and nearly falling on my face from the slippery surface, but I recovered quickly once I got my footing and as soon as the ice got chewed up from all the dozens of other skaters lapping me.
Our toes and noses were so frozen by 4 p.m. that we decided to return our skates and continue the festivities with a cup of hot chocolate back at the apartment in order to defrost. But as we walked to the El, we both agreed that Chicago is truly an amazing city. And that ice skating is still really fun, no matter how old--or bad--we are (or just me, Elli's pretty good!).
Friday, December 4, 2009
A is 4(.0) AWESOME!
I just checked my grades online and it's official.. I have a 4.0 for the first time in my post-high school life! I received an A in all three of my classes. I must be wicked smaht! :)
Although this first quarter of grad school included some things I didn't expect (like having to use a video camera, be on camera and getting sick 12 times), it was everything I hoped it would be. Here's to a hopefully equally as exciting and fruitful Winter Quarter!
Although this first quarter of grad school included some things I didn't expect (like having to use a video camera, be on camera and getting sick 12 times), it was everything I hoped it would be. Here's to a hopefully equally as exciting and fruitful Winter Quarter!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
I Don't Wanna Grow Up...
One can observe many things while sitting in a Starbucks. Especially when that person (eh hum, me) is avoiding writing an article and will do anything to procrastinate, including looking around aimlessly or people watching.
Observation #1: Starbucks has become the new Mommy and Me meet up spot. At least the one near me has. I went to Starbucks and bought and overprices cup of coffee because I thought it came with a quiet space to get work done alongside others doing the same. Instead, we workers were surrounded by groups of desperate housewives and stay-at-home moms gabbing to each other as their toddlers ran around or yelled loud noises. I'm not a child-hater; I just don't think that Starbucks is the venue for this behavior. Look what you have done, Suri Cruise: your carrying around Starbucks cups has made it the new cool spot for other three-year-olds! Guess I'll think twice before going back there to get work done!
Observation #2: While I may not agree with Starbucks's new clientele, I sure do love their holiday marketing campaign. There are signs all over the windows about wishing, giving and holiday cheer. They give me a warm feeling when I read them. They force me to remember the purest parts of the holiday season and help me relive those feelings I had about the holidays when I was younger. They seem to embrace the true meaning of the holiday season, like the Cabbage Patch and Scooby Doo Christmas specials did back in the day.
Christmas was always a magical time for me; I could barely get through Halloween knowing Christmas was right around the corner. These days, Christmas is already in the store before I'm done trick or treating. As I've grown older and now face life from the adult point of view, some of the magic has died or has gotten lost in the commercialism that has overtaken the season. Gift giving has become a chore cursed by money worries and checklists. No longer do we give gifts, there is the exchange of presents. There is a difference in the meanings of those two words: Life, love and the ability to dream are gifts. Presents are things you can buy in the store. One of Starbucks's signs encourages "giving." In a tough economy, one would think the store wants you to buy their product and spend money (which they probably do), but the surrounding signs bring feelings and thoughts of "hope" (another sign), tradition and memories. At least for me they did.
While procrastinating, I realized I was sitting in front of the best sign of all: "I wish grown ups could remember being kids." (I took a photo of it with my phone camera, to the right).
We shouldn't need a sign to remind us to acknowledge the kid inside of all of us, especially around the holidays. When's the last time you made a snowman...willingly? Or filled your mug with mini marshmallows before adding the hot chocolate? (I did that last night) Or sat staring at your Christmas tree because the twinkling lights made you smile? (I did that the night before).
We are always rushing, and the holidays seem to increase stress, not fun and spirits like they did when we were kids. I know I have more responsibilities now and more things on my mind other than who gets to open the advent calendar window after dinner. But how could I ever grow out of this season? Perhaps being a student, and unemployed, and far away from family has ignited the spirit and simplicity of the season of giving in my inner being once again. When I was little, my sister and I would clip coupons from the Walgreens flyer or save money to spend at the school store in order to get what we thought were the best gifts for our family. I will once again be clipping those Walgreens coupons and my mom will be getting a 99 cent snowglobe and box of chocolate covered cherries while Sean can count on a ten cent matchbox car. Just kidding, guys. Looking back, these presents were not about content or substance, but about the thought. The last several years I've filled my cart with presents I thought my family would love, but obsessed over everything being even until I had over-shopped for everyone. This year, I'm going to do my shopping not in terms of material, but meaning.
This holiday season, I hope everyone can remember the kid inside of them, even if for a few minutes a day in order to soak in the holiday season. Reacquaint yourself with the joy it is suppose to bring. There's a reason Andy Williams wrote an entire song about how this is the "most wonderful time of the year." I know I have lost that lovin' feeling over the last several years but this Christmas I am taking it back from the stores and the toy industry. However, Toys R Us did get one thing right: I don't wanna grow up... (you know the rest).
Observation #1: Starbucks has become the new Mommy and Me meet up spot. At least the one near me has. I went to Starbucks and bought and overprices cup of coffee because I thought it came with a quiet space to get work done alongside others doing the same. Instead, we workers were surrounded by groups of desperate housewives and stay-at-home moms gabbing to each other as their toddlers ran around or yelled loud noises. I'm not a child-hater; I just don't think that Starbucks is the venue for this behavior. Look what you have done, Suri Cruise: your carrying around Starbucks cups has made it the new cool spot for other three-year-olds! Guess I'll think twice before going back there to get work done!
Observation #2: While I may not agree with Starbucks's new clientele, I sure do love their holiday marketing campaign. There are signs all over the windows about wishing, giving and holiday cheer. They give me a warm feeling when I read them. They force me to remember the purest parts of the holiday season and help me relive those feelings I had about the holidays when I was younger. They seem to embrace the true meaning of the holiday season, like the Cabbage Patch and Scooby Doo Christmas specials did back in the day.
Christmas was always a magical time for me; I could barely get through Halloween knowing Christmas was right around the corner. These days, Christmas is already in the store before I'm done trick or treating. As I've grown older and now face life from the adult point of view, some of the magic has died or has gotten lost in the commercialism that has overtaken the season. Gift giving has become a chore cursed by money worries and checklists. No longer do we give gifts, there is the exchange of presents. There is a difference in the meanings of those two words: Life, love and the ability to dream are gifts. Presents are things you can buy in the store. One of Starbucks's signs encourages "giving." In a tough economy, one would think the store wants you to buy their product and spend money (which they probably do), but the surrounding signs bring feelings and thoughts of "hope" (another sign), tradition and memories. At least for me they did.
While procrastinating, I realized I was sitting in front of the best sign of all: "I wish grown ups could remember being kids." (I took a photo of it with my phone camera, to the right).
We shouldn't need a sign to remind us to acknowledge the kid inside of all of us, especially around the holidays. When's the last time you made a snowman...willingly? Or filled your mug with mini marshmallows before adding the hot chocolate? (I did that last night) Or sat staring at your Christmas tree because the twinkling lights made you smile? (I did that the night before).
We are always rushing, and the holidays seem to increase stress, not fun and spirits like they did when we were kids. I know I have more responsibilities now and more things on my mind other than who gets to open the advent calendar window after dinner. But how could I ever grow out of this season? Perhaps being a student, and unemployed, and far away from family has ignited the spirit and simplicity of the season of giving in my inner being once again. When I was little, my sister and I would clip coupons from the Walgreens flyer or save money to spend at the school store in order to get what we thought were the best gifts for our family. I will once again be clipping those Walgreens coupons and my mom will be getting a 99 cent snowglobe and box of chocolate covered cherries while Sean can count on a ten cent matchbox car. Just kidding, guys. Looking back, these presents were not about content or substance, but about the thought. The last several years I've filled my cart with presents I thought my family would love, but obsessed over everything being even until I had over-shopped for everyone. This year, I'm going to do my shopping not in terms of material, but meaning.
This holiday season, I hope everyone can remember the kid inside of them, even if for a few minutes a day in order to soak in the holiday season. Reacquaint yourself with the joy it is suppose to bring. There's a reason Andy Williams wrote an entire song about how this is the "most wonderful time of the year." I know I have lost that lovin' feeling over the last several years but this Christmas I am taking it back from the stores and the toy industry. However, Toys R Us did get one thing right: I don't wanna grow up... (you know the rest).
Just Like the Ones I Used to Know...
Yesterday, I ventured out with the purpose of taking a ride on the CTA's Holiday Train. Several hours later, I had soaked up enough Christmas spirit in my travels to last all season.
Once I got downtown, I walked down State Street in the direction of Macy's and stumbled upon the city's tree in Daley Plaza. That was on my list of things to find this week, and I was proud of myself for finding it! Not only did I get to see the tree, but in the Plaza was Christkindlmarket Chicago; a traditional German celebration of the holiday season. The area was filled with little wooden huts and shops draped with clear lights and boasting German food and crafts. I bought a ceramic boot (decorated and dated) mug filled with Gluhweim, a hot, spiced wine. It was delicious and I now have a souvenir mug, shaped as a boot to remember the day by. While drinking out of my boot, I met a few German women who told me how this festival and little village is an actual event around Christmas in Germany, but much larger than Chicago's miniature version. Kind of like Oktoberfest, but a Christmas version.
When I was done sightseeing, I was in such a festive mood and full of Christmas cheer. Buddy the Elf would have been very impressed. This weekend my roommate said she would go ice skating with me in Millennium Park and I'm pumped. It will make my Chicago Christmas experience complete before I head back home next Thursday.
Every year, the Chicago Transport Authority (CTA), operator of the El trains, decorate an entire El with Christmas lights, garland and bows and blast Christmas music for riders to enjoy. An entire car is replaced with an open platform on which Santa sits in a sleigh waving to passengers waiting on the platform to board the train. After studying the Holiday train schedule (it only comes at certain times on certain days and switches colors/lines ever week), I picked yesterday as the day to hitch a ride. I waited in the wind and cold for the train to come, and it was worth every second. The train was awesome and I smiled and laughed the entire ride downtown. "Santa's Express" as the train is called, was not only decked out on the exterior, but on the inside as well: there hung garland, lights, red bows and even the seat cushions were replaced with Santa pattern seats. The poles you hold on to were striped like candy canes. Sprinkled among the advertisements were humorous holiday jokes, like this one: "Why did the Gingerbread man go to the doctor?" Answer: Because he was feeling crummy! (boy, can I relate to that Gingerbread man...) and this one: "What is an Elf's favorite lunch at the North Pole?" Answer: a brrr grr.
Once I got downtown, I walked down State Street in the direction of Macy's and stumbled upon the city's tree in Daley Plaza. That was on my list of things to find this week, and I was proud of myself for finding it! Not only did I get to see the tree, but in the Plaza was Christkindlmarket Chicago; a traditional German celebration of the holiday season. The area was filled with little wooden huts and shops draped with clear lights and boasting German food and crafts. I bought a ceramic boot (decorated and dated) mug filled with Gluhweim, a hot, spiced wine. It was delicious and I now have a souvenir mug, shaped as a boot to remember the day by. While drinking out of my boot, I met a few German women who told me how this festival and little village is an actual event around Christmas in Germany, but much larger than Chicago's miniature version. Kind of like Oktoberfest, but a Christmas version.After I finished my Gluhweim, I headed over to Marshall Field, now Macy's, to check out the window display. Apparently this is a big Chicago holiday attraction and each year the window display tells a different story. Of course, I did not realize this until I was almost at the end and it dawned on me that the windows were telling the story of
how a letter gets from a child writing it all the way to Santa's hands at the North Pole. So, I started from the beginning and it made much more sense the second time around :) It was very cute, and the figures in the scenes were very life-like (minus to robot guys).
how a letter gets from a child writing it all the way to Santa's hands at the North Pole. So, I started from the beginning and it made much more sense the second time around :) It was very cute, and the figures in the scenes were very life-like (minus to robot guys). When I was done sightseeing, I was in such a festive mood and full of Christmas cheer. Buddy the Elf would have been very impressed. This weekend my roommate said she would go ice skating with me in Millennium Park and I'm pumped. It will make my Chicago Christmas experience complete before I head back home next Thursday.
One thing I am proud of as I recall my Christmas experience, is that Chicago isn't afraid to put Santa out on an El or a giant Nativity Set in Daley Plaza or seat cushions with Santa's image on their train chairs (granted it's a part time train, but still). Christ and Christmas are alive and well in the Windy City. For an entire afternoon, I forgot about being politically correct and was able to enjoy the holiday season in the way I used to love celebrating it: without judgement or a gag order. The streets downtown are lined with trees covered in blue lights, which embrace Hanukkah and the Jewish faith and I'm sure there is a menorah somewhere in the city. The sign next to this Nativity read: "This private Nativi
ty scene is made possible each year by the donations of those who wish to keep Christ in Christmas." I was glad the city has an open enough mind to let this group set up the scene.
ty scene is made possible each year by the donations of those who wish to keep Christ in Christmas." I was glad the city has an open enough mind to let this group set up the scene. In my opinion, everyone should be able to celebrate the holiday the way they believe and prefer without passing judgement on other faiths or traditions. I think society has become a little too sensitive when it comes to holiday greetings and celebrations. Yesterday afternoon I was able to do that; and more than the twinkling lights and the warm wine and the sight of the Nativity, I enjoyed that feeling the most.
If you would like to see many more pictures of my holiday adventure downtown, I have posted them on Facebook for all to see! If you don't have Facebook and would like to see more, let me know and I can email them.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Christmas Time Is Here...
It's certainly Christmas season on Diversey Parkway... especially in our apartment. Elli and I ventured to Target on Saturday to get a tree; after some sidewalk research, a.k.a stopping a man with a real tree slung over his shoulder to ask how much his tree cost, we opted to get a fake tree. We found one on sale, but had to return Sunday after a fleet of trucks came to replenish the stock of the tree we had our sights set on. Or so we thought... there were no trees when we got there! After a brief window of panic, we found our second choice sitting on a back wall. It said Canadian Fir, but wrong box number. Holding our breaths, we scanned the price and when it came up $24.99, our Christmas was bright once again. I looked at my roommate and exclaimed that I needed to hug her. And I did. People were staring, but they didn't realize that this tree discovery made our day. Success in hand, we bought the trimmings and headed home.
That afternoon, the three of us listened to Christmas music and decorated the house on a rainy Sunday. Elli wished it was snowing to make the mood even more festive. Laura set up her nativity set; I assembled our mini stockings; and we all decorated the tree, which is set up in the window for all to see when they pass by (it looks fantastic, I've seen it). We used 24 candy canes to fill the spots we didn't have ornaments for... I've already eaten three of them. Yum. If we need more decorations, I told Elli we could string up the microwave Kettle corn she has and dislikes, but it looks pretty cool the way it is now. Unless I keep eating all of the candy canes... then we're in trouble!
That afternoon, the three of us listened to Christmas music and decorated the house on a rainy Sunday. Elli wished it was snowing to make the mood even more festive. Laura set up her nativity set; I assembled our mini stockings; and we all decorated the tree, which is set up in the window for all to see when they pass by (it looks fantastic, I've seen it). We used 24 candy canes to fill the spots we didn't have ornaments for... I've already eaten three of them. Yum. If we need more decorations, I told Elli we could string up the microwave Kettle corn she has and dislikes, but it looks pretty cool the way it is now. Unless I keep eating all of the candy canes... then we're in trouble!The tree is lit and the stockings are hung by the chimney with care... they are so small it's kind of funny to look at them hanging on the mantle. I feel so relaxed as I sit with the lights off, basking in the twinkling glow of the tree, and anxiously await the start of Charlie Brown Christmas. This really is the most wonderful time of the year!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Surprise! I'm home for the holiday!
This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for the invention of the airplane (shout out to the Wright Brothers) and Orbitz.com, where I found a cheap flight and am able to make it home for Thanksgiving!
Originally, I thought I could be brave and make it through my first Turkey Day without my family, but two weeks ago the homesickness set in and I for sure knew I couldn’t make it. I surfed the web just to see if there were any deals, and I found one. Because my trip was so last minute (I got the ticket two weeks ago), I decided to keep it a surprise. My sister, who is picking me up at the airport, is the only one who knows I’m coming home for the holiday.
I’ll be back in two weeks for an extended Christmas visit seeing I don’t have classes, but I always vowed to myself that I would never let money get in the way of memories (in most cases, especially in ones like this). I kept thinking that if anything happened between now and December 10th I would never forgive myself for not taking the cheap ticket, which just seemed meant to be, sitting there amongst the $500 tickets. Besides, the $189 will be worth every penny when I see the look on my parents’ faces. For the first time I can remember, I am more excited to see my family than to eat unhealthy amounts of delicious carbohydrates. It is amazing the things we take for granted when we don’t realize what we have in front of us.
UPDATE: I wrote this post while sitting in the airport. Now that I am home and the surprise has been executed, I feel I should tell you how it all went down"
My sister picked me up at the airport, and after sitting in massive Mass Pike traffic, we finally made it home. My mom had to do something at church at 7, and we got there just in time to surprise both my parents at the same time. She pulled up in the driveway, we counted and slammed our doors at the same time, and I ran up to the front door. Hiding out of sight from the peep hole in the door, I rang the bell. My dad answered and I yelled surprise! holding a bag of Garrett's popcorn. I think he might have been confused and surprised, and in the background my mom heard my voice. She cried, we all hugged. And we lived happily ever after, at least for the next few days :)
Originally, I thought I could be brave and make it through my first Turkey Day without my family, but two weeks ago the homesickness set in and I for sure knew I couldn’t make it. I surfed the web just to see if there were any deals, and I found one. Because my trip was so last minute (I got the ticket two weeks ago), I decided to keep it a surprise. My sister, who is picking me up at the airport, is the only one who knows I’m coming home for the holiday.
I’ll be back in two weeks for an extended Christmas visit seeing I don’t have classes, but I always vowed to myself that I would never let money get in the way of memories (in most cases, especially in ones like this). I kept thinking that if anything happened between now and December 10th I would never forgive myself for not taking the cheap ticket, which just seemed meant to be, sitting there amongst the $500 tickets. Besides, the $189 will be worth every penny when I see the look on my parents’ faces. For the first time I can remember, I am more excited to see my family than to eat unhealthy amounts of delicious carbohydrates. It is amazing the things we take for granted when we don’t realize what we have in front of us.
UPDATE: I wrote this post while sitting in the airport. Now that I am home and the surprise has been executed, I feel I should tell you how it all went down"
My sister picked me up at the airport, and after sitting in massive Mass Pike traffic, we finally made it home. My mom had to do something at church at 7, and we got there just in time to surprise both my parents at the same time. She pulled up in the driveway, we counted and slammed our doors at the same time, and I ran up to the front door. Hiding out of sight from the peep hole in the door, I rang the bell. My dad answered and I yelled surprise! holding a bag of Garrett's popcorn. I think he might have been confused and surprised, and in the background my mom heard my voice. She cried, we all hugged. And we lived happily ever after, at least for the next few days :)
Observations from O'Hare
As I sit and wait for my flight home to Boston at O’Hare, I thought I would jot down a few observations. I think you might enjoy them, but I’m mostly just bored.
*People here are so friendly. I got off the El and three guys said hello to me and asked how I was, maybe because I’m a girl and they thought I was cute, but it made me smile. One of them, his name was Wilson, told me “You look so happy, can I come with you?” and preceded to walk with and talk to me until I reached the exit.
*Shocking… the Christmas decorations are up. I guess something had to replace the Olympic bid décor.
*The guy at the Garrett’s popcorn was helping me decide what size popcorn to bring home to my family. He recommended the jumbo. While I’m positive it would have gotten eaten, I’m not about to spend $17 on a bag of popcorn. My $8 medium is all this student budget can manage.
*There is a very hot and young pilot sitting across from me right now in the terminal as I write this. No wedding ring, maybe I should strike up a conversation. Ooh I hope he’s piloting my flight!
*Some man is not wearing shoes. I wonder if he is aware that you are allowed to put them back on once you pass through security…
*There is a pre-recorded message that plays over the airport intercom about every five minutes, reminding people to wash their hands. What kind of place is this? I know there are a lot of dumb people on this planet, but I would have hoped people could remember to wash their hands on their own.
*I love the moving sidewalks. They have tons of them around here. I actually got sad when I saw one wasn’t working and I had to walk on my own… look what society is doing to us! Some dumb teenagers were trying to walk backward on it; I shot them a dirty look as they were in my way. However, not even they could ruin my spirits today!!
*The hot pilot is pretending to watch the news on the TV above where I’m sitting. He scrunches his forehead like he’s focusing, but I can see right through it. Crap, he caught me looking at him. He probably thinks I’m weird now because I am laughing to myself.
*Some man just sat next to me and is eating something out of a large Ziploc bag. It’s either giant pieces of Slim Jim looking crap or steak tips. He doesn’t seem to be chewing hard enough for it to be either of those, and he’s eating it with his hands, so I’m going to go with some exotic and strange dried fruit.
*I texted my sister about the hot pilot and she just texted me back: “Wink at him.”
*I am still deciding which overpriced snack to purchase before boarding. I brought some almonds to munch on, but I need some sort of food that resembles a lunch. Most everyone sitting around me is eating McDonald’s (other than the exotic fruit man)… maybe I should ask the hot pilot for suggestions.
*I am watching the United Airlines employees chuck suitcases onto the conveyor belt that leads to the belly of the plane. One guy chucks, the other stands there to make sure the bag doesn’t fall off the belt (how considerate). A second truck pulled up and this employee is much gentler when loading the suitcases on the belt. He must not be disgruntled or union.
*I want to do donuts with the luggage go-cart.
*I opted for McDonald’s. The manager handed me my food and started talking to me, inquiring why I didn’t get “any fries or anything” with my sandwich. I told him I was saving my calories for Thanksgiving.
*I took the moving sidewalk back to my terminal.
*Hot pilot is still here. Maybe he’s a passenger. Oh please be sitting in row 32, preferably seat B.
OK, time to shut down. Boston here I come!
*People here are so friendly. I got off the El and three guys said hello to me and asked how I was, maybe because I’m a girl and they thought I was cute, but it made me smile. One of them, his name was Wilson, told me “You look so happy, can I come with you?” and preceded to walk with and talk to me until I reached the exit.
*Shocking… the Christmas decorations are up. I guess something had to replace the Olympic bid décor.
*The guy at the Garrett’s popcorn was helping me decide what size popcorn to bring home to my family. He recommended the jumbo. While I’m positive it would have gotten eaten, I’m not about to spend $17 on a bag of popcorn. My $8 medium is all this student budget can manage.
*There is a very hot and young pilot sitting across from me right now in the terminal as I write this. No wedding ring, maybe I should strike up a conversation. Ooh I hope he’s piloting my flight!
*Some man is not wearing shoes. I wonder if he is aware that you are allowed to put them back on once you pass through security…
*There is a pre-recorded message that plays over the airport intercom about every five minutes, reminding people to wash their hands. What kind of place is this? I know there are a lot of dumb people on this planet, but I would have hoped people could remember to wash their hands on their own.
*I love the moving sidewalks. They have tons of them around here. I actually got sad when I saw one wasn’t working and I had to walk on my own… look what society is doing to us! Some dumb teenagers were trying to walk backward on it; I shot them a dirty look as they were in my way. However, not even they could ruin my spirits today!!
*The hot pilot is pretending to watch the news on the TV above where I’m sitting. He scrunches his forehead like he’s focusing, but I can see right through it. Crap, he caught me looking at him. He probably thinks I’m weird now because I am laughing to myself.
*Some man just sat next to me and is eating something out of a large Ziploc bag. It’s either giant pieces of Slim Jim looking crap or steak tips. He doesn’t seem to be chewing hard enough for it to be either of those, and he’s eating it with his hands, so I’m going to go with some exotic and strange dried fruit.
*I texted my sister about the hot pilot and she just texted me back: “Wink at him.”
*I am still deciding which overpriced snack to purchase before boarding. I brought some almonds to munch on, but I need some sort of food that resembles a lunch. Most everyone sitting around me is eating McDonald’s (other than the exotic fruit man)… maybe I should ask the hot pilot for suggestions.
*I am watching the United Airlines employees chuck suitcases onto the conveyor belt that leads to the belly of the plane. One guy chucks, the other stands there to make sure the bag doesn’t fall off the belt (how considerate). A second truck pulled up and this employee is much gentler when loading the suitcases on the belt. He must not be disgruntled or union.
*I want to do donuts with the luggage go-cart.
*I opted for McDonald’s. The manager handed me my food and started talking to me, inquiring why I didn’t get “any fries or anything” with my sandwich. I told him I was saving my calories for Thanksgiving.
*I took the moving sidewalk back to my terminal.
*Hot pilot is still here. Maybe he’s a passenger. Oh please be sitting in row 32, preferably seat B.
OK, time to shut down. Boston here I come!
Monday, November 23, 2009
O Well
Last Friday, Oprah announced she would end her 25-year run as the Queen of Daytime Talk Show Television in September 2011. Seeing she films her show in Chicago, the reaction might have been a little more significant here than it was elsewhere in the country. If anything, the number of puns involving the letter 'O' significantly increased. Here are a few headlines I recall gracing the front pages of Saturday's newspapers:
Photo: AP/ Harpo Productions
"O-revoir"
"O-No"
"Goodbye Chicag-O"
I think I've done a good job thus far of trying to block out the intense media coverage of this story. While it seems to have died down since the announcement, separate conversations will undoubtedly linger like the smell of rotten garbage after they empty those sidewalk trash barrels. Now we'll have to hear about this for the next two years, until the show actually ends. The news is still obsessed with predicting the financial effect of her end and the collapse of Chicago's revenue stream as soon as her show no longer draws in the tourists. This might be a little bit of an exaggeration-- I visited this city like six times before I moved here and not once did I come to see Oprah. She isn't the only draw for people to come to this fine city. She'll probably run off to NYC or head for the Hills of LA (not the same ones as Lauren Conrad) in 2011 leaving Chicago behind. I wonder if she'll let me move into her penthouse which allegedly happens to be in my favorite looking building in the city.
I just became a member of Oprah.com in order to reserve tickets to a taping. Hey, a girl can try!
UPDATE: My roommate just read me a paragraph from the Red Eye daily newslet, in which Oprah's agent has publicly assured Chicagoans that the TV mogul will not be leaving the city. Looks like Harpo and the Big O will continue to grace the Second City with their presence beyond 2011. I won't hold my breath, they also denied she was ending her show in 2011 a few days before the announcement was made that she was. Damn... guess there goes my shot at living in her penthouse now.
UPDATE 2: They reshowed the clip of Oprah crying again. And now they're polling people on who should be her final guest. It's going to be a long two years.
Photo: AP/ Harpo Productions
"O-revoir"
"O-No"
"Goodbye Chicag-O"
I think I've done a good job thus far of trying to block out the intense media coverage of this story. While it seems to have died down since the announcement, separate conversations will undoubtedly linger like the smell of rotten garbage after they empty those sidewalk trash barrels. Now we'll have to hear about this for the next two years, until the show actually ends. The news is still obsessed with predicting the financial effect of her end and the collapse of Chicago's revenue stream as soon as her show no longer draws in the tourists. This might be a little bit of an exaggeration-- I visited this city like six times before I moved here and not once did I come to see Oprah. She isn't the only draw for people to come to this fine city. She'll probably run off to NYC or head for the Hills of LA (not the same ones as Lauren Conrad) in 2011 leaving Chicago behind. I wonder if she'll let me move into her penthouse which allegedly happens to be in my favorite looking building in the city.
I just became a member of Oprah.com in order to reserve tickets to a taping. Hey, a girl can try!
UPDATE: My roommate just read me a paragraph from the Red Eye daily newslet, in which Oprah's agent has publicly assured Chicagoans that the TV mogul will not be leaving the city. Looks like Harpo and the Big O will continue to grace the Second City with their presence beyond 2011. I won't hold my breath, they also denied she was ending her show in 2011 a few days before the announcement was made that she was. Damn... guess there goes my shot at living in her penthouse now.
UPDATE 2: They reshowed the clip of Oprah crying again. And now they're polling people on who should be her final guest. It's going to be a long two years.
A Little Reverse Thinking
Today I headed downtown to drop off my last final project of the semester and ended up on the Purple Line to the Loop. While there is nothing wrong with the purple line, I'm just very used to taking the Brown. The difference? Not much: the purple circles the Loop in the opposite direction than the brown but both lead to the same place (I discovered this difference after hopping the train by accident one day). My destination is smack in the middle, so it really doesn't matter which color I take, it's just a matter of routine and pure preference.
I had always avoided this train because I never knew where it went, what stops it made, etc. Although I had an idea, I just wasn't ready to try something new. I think we all tend to stick to routines and preferences most of the time, rather than trying something different from time to time. This path is safer because we know what is going to happen. In my case, I knew the order of stops by heart and due to routine, my brain was trained to know when to get off without listening to the train operator. I'm glad the purple picked me up at the Diversey stop today, because it helped give me a reverse (pun intended) point of view. I was forced to pay attention to my surroundings and where I was as the train traveled through the city.
As I watched building after building pass by the window, I began to imagine each building as a problem I currently have a bad attitude about. Like my outrageous medical bills. Clearly my student insurance sucks and it never dawned on me to budget about a $1,000 for medical needs when I thought up my grand financial plan when I moved. Things happen, you can get sick for an entire month and end up in the hole. I decided I would pay the bills quickly, like ripping off a band-aid, and say goodbye to the problem as quick as that notorious red building flew out of my vision. Let's just hope I don't get sick again... if for any reason because I can't afford it! Ah, bless this crappy health care system... no wonder my brother works 24/7 on health care bills at the CBO in D.C.
I've been feeling awful bad for myself these days, but this ride around town in a direction I wasn't used to helped me realize it's time to reverse my thinking and turn things around. I'm lucky enough to be able to be back in school and have learned so much in my first quarter (about journalism and myself) that it is hard to have regrets or bad feelings still in my system, especially with the holidays coming up. Money is a large part of life, but I've been rich in other ways over the last few months (OK, corny, I know, please don't gag). I keep repeating this to myself, hoping I will be convinced of it by the end of the day. I kind of have to because there is no choice really except to stress about it which never leads to anything good.
Life goes on, sometimes in directions you don't expect. But it's our job to step on the train, sit down, and learn something during the ride. Oh yeah, and enjoy it, too. Thanks to the Purple Line, I've learned my lessons and am prepared to let go and start fresh. After all, I've handed in my last final projects and am officially done with school for six weeks! It surely is a time to celebrate and be happy.
Here's to hoping you all have courage to take your ride of the Purple Line sometime soon if you need it. A special shout out to my sister, who had the courage to get on the train: just keep holding on and fasten your proverbial seat belt, you'll make it to your next destination--some place much better--in one piece. I promise :)
I had always avoided this train because I never knew where it went, what stops it made, etc. Although I had an idea, I just wasn't ready to try something new. I think we all tend to stick to routines and preferences most of the time, rather than trying something different from time to time. This path is safer because we know what is going to happen. In my case, I knew the order of stops by heart and due to routine, my brain was trained to know when to get off without listening to the train operator. I'm glad the purple picked me up at the Diversey stop today, because it helped give me a reverse (pun intended) point of view. I was forced to pay attention to my surroundings and where I was as the train traveled through the city.
As I watched building after building pass by the window, I began to imagine each building as a problem I currently have a bad attitude about. Like my outrageous medical bills. Clearly my student insurance sucks and it never dawned on me to budget about a $1,000 for medical needs when I thought up my grand financial plan when I moved. Things happen, you can get sick for an entire month and end up in the hole. I decided I would pay the bills quickly, like ripping off a band-aid, and say goodbye to the problem as quick as that notorious red building flew out of my vision. Let's just hope I don't get sick again... if for any reason because I can't afford it! Ah, bless this crappy health care system... no wonder my brother works 24/7 on health care bills at the CBO in D.C.
I've been feeling awful bad for myself these days, but this ride around town in a direction I wasn't used to helped me realize it's time to reverse my thinking and turn things around. I'm lucky enough to be able to be back in school and have learned so much in my first quarter (about journalism and myself) that it is hard to have regrets or bad feelings still in my system, especially with the holidays coming up. Money is a large part of life, but I've been rich in other ways over the last few months (OK, corny, I know, please don't gag). I keep repeating this to myself, hoping I will be convinced of it by the end of the day. I kind of have to because there is no choice really except to stress about it which never leads to anything good.
Life goes on, sometimes in directions you don't expect. But it's our job to step on the train, sit down, and learn something during the ride. Oh yeah, and enjoy it, too. Thanks to the Purple Line, I've learned my lessons and am prepared to let go and start fresh. After all, I've handed in my last final projects and am officially done with school for six weeks! It surely is a time to celebrate and be happy.
Here's to hoping you all have courage to take your ride of the Purple Line sometime soon if you need it. A special shout out to my sister, who had the courage to get on the train: just keep holding on and fasten your proverbial seat belt, you'll make it to your next destination--some place much better--in one piece. I promise :)
Sunday, November 22, 2009
New Look- Love it or hate it?
The blog has a new look, complete with a customized new header! What do you think of the change?
Shout out to Julie for her help on how to do the header! :)
Shout out to Julie for her help on how to do the header! :)
Saturday, November 21, 2009
WhirlyBall!
Here is my final video project... WhirlyBall! Such an interesting sport to watch and I really want to play it now! Although I am not very coordinated so I might not be able to drive a bumper car AND toss around a wiffle ball at the same time... Hope you enjoy it!
November Pain
I'm back! A few short hours after I wrote my last post, I woke up unable to get out of bed. I had been struck again!!! As I write this, I have officially been sick every day of this month, which is awesome:
Woke up with what I thought was a hangover on Nov. 1st which really turned out to be strep throat... got giant horse pills of amoxicillin that worked great until I took my last one on Friday morning, yes, Friday the 13th. I should have known this would not have gone well. Woke up two days later with what my doctor has diagnosed as a virus. Which means the z-pack I paid 44 bucks for had no affect and I had to sweat this one out (literally) on my own.
This second bout of illness came just in time for the last week of classes and final projects. And I thought the strep came at a bad time! I managed to get two projects done, now just one to go--an eight page paper. Doesn't sound like too much but the assignment is the hard part. I wanted to put this post up quick before I hide in Starbucks all day trying to write. I've spent WAY too much quality time in my apartment and in my bed this month.
It's a funny thing being sick and the bearer of bad germs. I noticed every time I went to talk to someone, they would take two steps back. And when I went to my professors this week in class to tell them I needed to leave early because I was sick, one of them literally gave me the Heisman, leaning back and pushing his open palms toward my face. The other also leaned back, but his eyes bulged out of his head by the time I was done speaking which was a result of--I am guessing--him trying to hold his breath as to not suck in any germs I might emit. They looked scared, both of them. It made me laugh a little but kind of annoyed. I am sick, not the walking plague! As if I feel bad enough physically already, you don't have to fall all over yourself to get out of my bubble or give me weird looks to make me feel like even worse. Jeez... as if I wanted to be there anyway.
This is surely NOT how I saw my first quarter of grad school ending to say the least. But thanks to my family and friends (and very patient editor!) who cared about me and called to make sure I was doing okay through all of this. The calls were very much appreciated and I apologize if I haven't called back or responded with a text.. I still can't talk that well because of my throat (at least I am well enough to eat something other than ramen!) I feel so bad for my roommates, especially Elli, who moved in November 1st and has probably gotten a few germs along with her first month's rent.
Thank you again to everyone, you made me feel loved and helped me during a really rough patch in which most days I felt like dying than dealing with a fever, body and head aches and not being able to swallow. I'm feeling better now and have hope that maybe by Thanksgiving I'll be able to eat something more than squash and mashed potatoes :)
Woke up with what I thought was a hangover on Nov. 1st which really turned out to be strep throat... got giant horse pills of amoxicillin that worked great until I took my last one on Friday morning, yes, Friday the 13th. I should have known this would not have gone well. Woke up two days later with what my doctor has diagnosed as a virus. Which means the z-pack I paid 44 bucks for had no affect and I had to sweat this one out (literally) on my own.
This second bout of illness came just in time for the last week of classes and final projects. And I thought the strep came at a bad time! I managed to get two projects done, now just one to go--an eight page paper. Doesn't sound like too much but the assignment is the hard part. I wanted to put this post up quick before I hide in Starbucks all day trying to write. I've spent WAY too much quality time in my apartment and in my bed this month.
It's a funny thing being sick and the bearer of bad germs. I noticed every time I went to talk to someone, they would take two steps back. And when I went to my professors this week in class to tell them I needed to leave early because I was sick, one of them literally gave me the Heisman, leaning back and pushing his open palms toward my face. The other also leaned back, but his eyes bulged out of his head by the time I was done speaking which was a result of--I am guessing--him trying to hold his breath as to not suck in any germs I might emit. They looked scared, both of them. It made me laugh a little but kind of annoyed. I am sick, not the walking plague! As if I feel bad enough physically already, you don't have to fall all over yourself to get out of my bubble or give me weird looks to make me feel like even worse. Jeez... as if I wanted to be there anyway.
This is surely NOT how I saw my first quarter of grad school ending to say the least. But thanks to my family and friends (and very patient editor!) who cared about me and called to make sure I was doing okay through all of this. The calls were very much appreciated and I apologize if I haven't called back or responded with a text.. I still can't talk that well because of my throat (at least I am well enough to eat something other than ramen!) I feel so bad for my roommates, especially Elli, who moved in November 1st and has probably gotten a few germs along with her first month's rent.
Thank you again to everyone, you made me feel loved and helped me during a really rough patch in which most days I felt like dying than dealing with a fever, body and head aches and not being able to swallow. I'm feeling better now and have hope that maybe by Thanksgiving I'll be able to eat something more than squash and mashed potatoes :)
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Raising the White Flag
I played a flag football double header on Thursday night. My friend invited me and I went because I thought it would be fun to meet new people and get some exercise. It was my first physical activity other than walking to the El and back in two weeks thanks to the Strep Throat. The only other time I played flag football was when I worked at ESPN... unlike then I actually played on this team. I didn't get the ball at all, but running up and down the field was a good workout.
Fast forward two days, and I am still sore. God do my upper legs and quads hate me. I have been limping around like an invalid. This is pathetic!! My 90-year-old grandfather is in better shape than me.
As soon as I'm feeling more limber, I'm going to take a shot at that new yoga DVD I bought at Best Buy the other day. I am desperately hoping it helps me relax and sleep at night.
Ah well. Hope you had a good laugh. I try to sneak in a few chuckles when I'm not wincing. After all, if you can't laugh at yourself it's going to be a longggg ride. Right now, I'm too busy waving the white flag.
Fast forward two days, and I am still sore. God do my upper legs and quads hate me. I have been limping around like an invalid. This is pathetic!! My 90-year-old grandfather is in better shape than me.
As soon as I'm feeling more limber, I'm going to take a shot at that new yoga DVD I bought at Best Buy the other day. I am desperately hoping it helps me relax and sleep at night.
Ah well. Hope you had a good laugh. I try to sneak in a few chuckles when I'm not wincing. After all, if you can't laugh at yourself it's going to be a longggg ride. Right now, I'm too busy waving the white flag.
Penny for my thoughts, I'd be rich
You know those sayings... "penny for your thoughts" and "if I could only get inside your head"? Well, I would give someone 2,000 pennies (that's 20 bucks if you're bad at math... I used a calculator) in order to get inside my head and shut it off at night. Every night I lay in bed and as soon as the lights go out, my brains kicks into high gear and the wheels usually spin until about 4 a.m. on most nights/mornings. I'm beginning to think that I might be a vampire, because I can only seem to sleep during the day and do some of my most active, albeit strangest, thinking in the dark. The whole vampire point segues me into the "crazy things that keep me thinking instead of sleeping" list I have created to share with you. Ironically, this blog idea was one of them:
1. a. I really don't get the whole Twilight hysteria. I saw the movie, got it off Netflix and it was almost painful to watch. I was extremely disappointed in the quality. I'm not sure what I was expecting exactly, but the plot and storyline and acting is so weak and clearly targeted to the tween scene. Which is OK, but I honestly don't get why adults are also obsessed with the movie.
b. Second part of this, I don't get the craze over Robert Pattinson, who I fondly refer to as "the kid who doesn't wash his hair." The love story between him and Bella/Kristen Stewart is so platonic and their "true love" comes out of nowhere. They stare at each other most of the time and that, I guess, is the extent of the "intense" yet severely underdeveloped love affair. Their love story is an eighth of what Kate and Leo's was in Titanic or any other romantic comedy at that. Why are people SO obsessed with they getting together in real life? They're not cute together. OK, I'm done now. Sorry if I offended any of you Twilight lovers.
2. I spend a good chunk of the time cursing myself for the tasks I put off and didn't cross off my "to do" list. Then I rewrite the list in my head, sighing when it comes to thinking of a bill or transferring funds to my checking account.
3. Did I log out of my Gmail account on the school computer? If I didn't someone might read my email... Do I have anything important in my email that might incriminate me? I'm pretty sure I did log out and end the conversation with myself with a simple "oh well." It just spirals out of control.
4. Tomorrow I have to do laundry. I wonder if that sauce stain is going to come out now because I didn't do laundry again when I was supposed to...
5. I then craft blog posts in my head for about 20-25 minutes. And repeat and rehearse them when I think of something I like so I don't forget it when I wake up in the morning. The things I do for my dedicated readers ;)
6. Seriously, I should have taken a sleeping pill. And get angry with myself and with my brain, begging for it to just shut off so I can get some shut eye. Now I'm going to oversleep, wake up at 11 am, waste half the day and even with that I'm still barely getting enough sleep.
7. Does my bread have mold on it? I didn't put it in the fridge and it might start breeding mold overnight and then I'll need to go buy more and who has time for that...
8. I debate whether I put my house keys back in the little pocket in my purse. Then I actually get up and check if I can't remember.
Now I sound crazy. Half, if not all, of these thoughts seem like OCD behavior. I promise I'm normal during the day... it's like I said, as soon as the lights go out, my brain picks everything possible in order to keep me awake. It's a conspiracy. I think I just have so much to do and going on that I feel like I am wasting time sleeping when I could be doing other things.
Alright, almost 2 a.m. let's get this party started.
1. a. I really don't get the whole Twilight hysteria. I saw the movie, got it off Netflix and it was almost painful to watch. I was extremely disappointed in the quality. I'm not sure what I was expecting exactly, but the plot and storyline and acting is so weak and clearly targeted to the tween scene. Which is OK, but I honestly don't get why adults are also obsessed with the movie.
b. Second part of this, I don't get the craze over Robert Pattinson, who I fondly refer to as "the kid who doesn't wash his hair." The love story between him and Bella/Kristen Stewart is so platonic and their "true love" comes out of nowhere. They stare at each other most of the time and that, I guess, is the extent of the "intense" yet severely underdeveloped love affair. Their love story is an eighth of what Kate and Leo's was in Titanic or any other romantic comedy at that. Why are people SO obsessed with they getting together in real life? They're not cute together. OK, I'm done now. Sorry if I offended any of you Twilight lovers.
2. I spend a good chunk of the time cursing myself for the tasks I put off and didn't cross off my "to do" list. Then I rewrite the list in my head, sighing when it comes to thinking of a bill or transferring funds to my checking account.
3. Did I log out of my Gmail account on the school computer? If I didn't someone might read my email... Do I have anything important in my email that might incriminate me? I'm pretty sure I did log out and end the conversation with myself with a simple "oh well." It just spirals out of control.
4. Tomorrow I have to do laundry. I wonder if that sauce stain is going to come out now because I didn't do laundry again when I was supposed to...
5. I then craft blog posts in my head for about 20-25 minutes. And repeat and rehearse them when I think of something I like so I don't forget it when I wake up in the morning. The things I do for my dedicated readers ;)
6. Seriously, I should have taken a sleeping pill. And get angry with myself and with my brain, begging for it to just shut off so I can get some shut eye. Now I'm going to oversleep, wake up at 11 am, waste half the day and even with that I'm still barely getting enough sleep.
7. Does my bread have mold on it? I didn't put it in the fridge and it might start breeding mold overnight and then I'll need to go buy more and who has time for that...
8. I debate whether I put my house keys back in the little pocket in my purse. Then I actually get up and check if I can't remember.
Now I sound crazy. Half, if not all, of these thoughts seem like OCD behavior. I promise I'm normal during the day... it's like I said, as soon as the lights go out, my brain picks everything possible in order to keep me awake. It's a conspiracy. I think I just have so much to do and going on that I feel like I am wasting time sleeping when I could be doing other things.
Alright, almost 2 a.m. let's get this party started.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Extra! Extra! Chicago Cubs are Sold... Kim Dunbar has the story
While I'm not quite strep throat free, with two weeks left of school there is no more time to lounge around in bed succumbed to pesky throat germs. I spent this Saturday filming for and working on two different class projects. The first project brought me to Wrigley Field, where I created a news package about the Chicago Cubs being sold to the Ricketts family (that happened about a week ago, but I pretended it was breaking news).
The second project, which I am currently working on, is about WhirlyBall. What is WhirlyBall you may ask? Well, let me explain! It is a unique sport that combines multiple ones-- basically the premise is this: Teams of 5 vs 5 battle in bumper cars while carrying a lacrosse like scoop, tossing around a whiffle ball, trying to score in a basketball hoop contraption. It's quite amusing to watch and a blast to play (so I have heard). After filming it I can't wait to actually try it! The people who work there were SO nice and helpful to me when I was trying to plan the project. They want to upload the video to their website when I am done with it! Pressure is on to make it good.. only bummer is that it was pretty dark inside and the camera I had just wasn't sophisticated enough and I had no external lights to light up the area. Hopefully I can do something in post-production to amend it a little.
Below is the finished product on the Cubs piece. It took me about 10 minutes to get the tag right... I wrote too much to remember so I talked really fast to get through it. I'll for sure get comments about that with my grade... Enjoy!! I'll be sure to share the WhirlyBall one when it is done. It's due next Wednesday (my final Wednesday class already!!) so be sure to check back if you're interested. All feedback is welcome :)
The second project, which I am currently working on, is about WhirlyBall. What is WhirlyBall you may ask? Well, let me explain! It is a unique sport that combines multiple ones-- basically the premise is this: Teams of 5 vs 5 battle in bumper cars while carrying a lacrosse like scoop, tossing around a whiffle ball, trying to score in a basketball hoop contraption. It's quite amusing to watch and a blast to play (so I have heard). After filming it I can't wait to actually try it! The people who work there were SO nice and helpful to me when I was trying to plan the project. They want to upload the video to their website when I am done with it! Pressure is on to make it good.. only bummer is that it was pretty dark inside and the camera I had just wasn't sophisticated enough and I had no external lights to light up the area. Hopefully I can do something in post-production to amend it a little.
Below is the finished product on the Cubs piece. It took me about 10 minutes to get the tag right... I wrote too much to remember so I talked really fast to get through it. I'll for sure get comments about that with my grade... Enjoy!! I'll be sure to share the WhirlyBall one when it is done. It's due next Wednesday (my final Wednesday class already!!) so be sure to check back if you're interested. All feedback is welcome :)
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Strep Throat Kim is a Cover Girl
Wow, that's a loaded title... And where is Jordan Knight when I finally need him? As at least my family knows (and now my editor because I made a bad joke when she told me I would have the November cover story back in August), I used to pretend that Jordan and the New Kids on the Block were singing "Cover Girl" about and to me when I was little. I would sit wrapped in my NKOTB comforter and sheets.. ok that part didn't happen, but I still love that song. And now I can't even hum it to myself as my glorious cover story has been released to the public.
As some of you know I've been down and out the last few days with strep throat. I've felt a lot better since my fever broke, but it's still real difficult to talk, let alone belt the lyrics of a cheesy boy band song. These 875 mg horse pills of amoxicillin are really working their magic best they can. As soon as I have the energy I intend on writing a post on how crappy America's health insurance is, even though everyone knows that already. Right after I have a date with the hairbrush and a mirror.
I wanted to share with you this Pulse magazine article, my cover story on Worcester boxer Edwin Rodriguez. He's such an awesome person to talk with. We had a long interview on the phone and someday when I'm back in Worcester I hope to meet him in person. Anyway, here it is.. it's a little long (it is a cover story after all!) but I'm so proud of it: The Real Edwin Rodriguez.
Ok it's time for a nap. I'm trying to make a mark in my to-do list best I can, because school is winding down and this weekend was slated to film some media projects, not to mention my professor of my Monday class decided to have us do a complete package in a week, the week I happen to get strep. So I'm a little stressed, but need to focus on getting better. My packages are going to come out so crappy because I can barely speak. Washington had Deep Throat, Chicago has Strep Throat... Kim that is.
As some of you know I've been down and out the last few days with strep throat. I've felt a lot better since my fever broke, but it's still real difficult to talk, let alone belt the lyrics of a cheesy boy band song. These 875 mg horse pills of amoxicillin are really working their magic best they can. As soon as I have the energy I intend on writing a post on how crappy America's health insurance is, even though everyone knows that already. Right after I have a date with the hairbrush and a mirror.
I wanted to share with you this Pulse magazine article, my cover story on Worcester boxer Edwin Rodriguez. He's such an awesome person to talk with. We had a long interview on the phone and someday when I'm back in Worcester I hope to meet him in person. Anyway, here it is.. it's a little long (it is a cover story after all!) but I'm so proud of it: The Real Edwin Rodriguez.
Ok it's time for a nap. I'm trying to make a mark in my to-do list best I can, because school is winding down and this weekend was slated to film some media projects, not to mention my professor of my Monday class decided to have us do a complete package in a week, the week I happen to get strep. So I'm a little stressed, but need to focus on getting better. My packages are going to come out so crappy because I can barely speak. Washington had Deep Throat, Chicago has Strep Throat... Kim that is.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The Education of a Lifetime
For one of my classes we had to hand in a variety of writing assignments earlier in the quarter. Below is the "profile piece" assignment I did on my friend Megan Weeks. Sometimes when you get an assignment back with writing all over it, it's filled with corrections; mine was filled with her comments on how much she loved certain parts. I got A+ and my professor wrote that it was the best in the class. I thought I would share:
The Education of a Lifetime
By Kim Dunbar
Megan Weeks is praying it doesn’t rain. The cloudy skies seem ominous, but as she does every day on the way to work, she is hoping for the best.
Weeks is a tenth grade English teacher at South High Community School in Worcester, Massachusetts. South is an underfunded, inner-city high school in which Hispanics and African-Americans make up 57.4 percent of the student population. “It’s a crazy, unique place,” said Weeks. “We have no walls, no supplies, a leaking roof with garbage cans to catch the run off, but a whole lot of love.”
Weeks is hoping it doesn’t rain because the garbage cans and leaking water are added distractions she can’t spare for the sake of her students. It is hard enough to teach over the voices of her colleagues adjacent to her “classroom,” which looks more like an oversized office cubicle than a traditional classroom. “I honestly cannot imagine what it would be like to be able to ‘close my door’ and just teach,” she said.
Weeks began teaching at South High upon graduating from Clark University. Her experiences as an undergraduate are what influenced her future profession. “I decided to become a teacher after taking an Urban Schooling class. I knew I loved English and knew I wanted to help kids so it all came together for me after that class,” she said.
Weeks’s favorite part of her job is “being able to relate to the kids and just be myself,” she said. “I feel a true sense of accomplishment when my students are able to follow their dreams or even figure what their dreams are,” she added. However, it is becoming increasingly difficult for Weeks to do her job and enjoy it, as budget cuts and low test scores continue to plague the school.
The economic recession is affecting schools across the country, but it is magnified in schools like South, which was having a hard time before budget cuts became a regular event. For example, this year Weeks is allotted two reams of paper a month for a class load of 100 students, and because the school often cannot afford to purchase books for the students to use, Weeks finds herself purchasing collections with her own money.
For the last two years, South—which garners a two out of ten rating from GreatSchools when it comes to student test scores in Massachusetts high schools—has been pushing for its students to do better on standardized tests with the SWIFT initiative. SWIFT stands for “Strategic Writers In Focused Thought,” and is built around the core concept which Weeks summarizes, “if we get our kids to be strategic writers across disciplines they will have a better chance in succeeding in school.” She added that the idea is for the school to have many writing requirements, such as common assessments that each grade level has to complete on a monthly basis.
“Our students don't measure up compared to a student elsewhere in the state,” said Weeks. “I get my students reading at a sixth grade level as they start the tenth grade. To me, I have performed a miracle if I can find one book they actually read or one project they would love to do. Unfortunately, that is not how the state of Massachusetts measures success,” Weeks lamented.
In fact, Weeks said the lack of parental involvement and overall student apathy has been the biggest challenge of her career thus far. “Half of my job is just getting them to care,” she said. “Since many of these students have never seen family members achieve higher education or move out of the city, they don't know why it is so important to have an education. If the parents checked homework, asked questions, and reached out, these kids would really succeed,” added Weeks.
Something else Weeks thinks would help her students is an equal budget. “We do everything we can for these kids. If they received the same budget as the suburban kids I know we could do anything,” she said. “If this is truly the land of the free, then all Americans should be free to receive a high quality education. Learning is not just for the rich.”
In her five years at the school, Weeks has had many ups and downs. Both her laptop and her cell phone were stolen on separate occasions and she has suffered several bruises from breaking up girl fights in the hallways. But she refuses to leave her students for greener pastures at a better school. “The students at the ‘better’ schools don't need the help the way these kids do,” she said. “As long as I have the energy I will be in the inner city doing what I can to make a difference. I love what I do and I love to see these kids succeed,” she added.
Success according to Megan Weeks is different than another teacher’s definition of the same word. Several of Weeks’s students have matriculated to top colleges, including Holy Cross and Columbia, but those students aren’t considered her greatest accomplishments. “I am most proud of the students that push themselves so hard just to make it to state college,” she explained. “The smiles on their faces and the sincere 'thank you' I receive mean almost more than my first student going to an Ivy League college.”
If Weeks has learned anything during her teaching tenure, she has learned patience and the ability to understand that learning happens very slowly and to accept that change does not happen overnight. “You have to keep at it, even when it seems like you will not succeed,” she said.
But Weeks knows all too well that while learning can’t change overnight, the weather certainly can. But like all the other challenges she has overcome as an inner city teacher, Weeks has learned to deal with the rainy days, garbage cans and all.
The Education of a Lifetime
By Kim Dunbar
Megan Weeks is praying it doesn’t rain. The cloudy skies seem ominous, but as she does every day on the way to work, she is hoping for the best.
Weeks is a tenth grade English teacher at South High Community School in Worcester, Massachusetts. South is an underfunded, inner-city high school in which Hispanics and African-Americans make up 57.4 percent of the student population. “It’s a crazy, unique place,” said Weeks. “We have no walls, no supplies, a leaking roof with garbage cans to catch the run off, but a whole lot of love.”
Weeks is hoping it doesn’t rain because the garbage cans and leaking water are added distractions she can’t spare for the sake of her students. It is hard enough to teach over the voices of her colleagues adjacent to her “classroom,” which looks more like an oversized office cubicle than a traditional classroom. “I honestly cannot imagine what it would be like to be able to ‘close my door’ and just teach,” she said.
Weeks began teaching at South High upon graduating from Clark University. Her experiences as an undergraduate are what influenced her future profession. “I decided to become a teacher after taking an Urban Schooling class. I knew I loved English and knew I wanted to help kids so it all came together for me after that class,” she said.
Weeks’s favorite part of her job is “being able to relate to the kids and just be myself,” she said. “I feel a true sense of accomplishment when my students are able to follow their dreams or even figure what their dreams are,” she added. However, it is becoming increasingly difficult for Weeks to do her job and enjoy it, as budget cuts and low test scores continue to plague the school.
The economic recession is affecting schools across the country, but it is magnified in schools like South, which was having a hard time before budget cuts became a regular event. For example, this year Weeks is allotted two reams of paper a month for a class load of 100 students, and because the school often cannot afford to purchase books for the students to use, Weeks finds herself purchasing collections with her own money.
For the last two years, South—which garners a two out of ten rating from GreatSchools when it comes to student test scores in Massachusetts high schools—has been pushing for its students to do better on standardized tests with the SWIFT initiative. SWIFT stands for “Strategic Writers In Focused Thought,” and is built around the core concept which Weeks summarizes, “if we get our kids to be strategic writers across disciplines they will have a better chance in succeeding in school.” She added that the idea is for the school to have many writing requirements, such as common assessments that each grade level has to complete on a monthly basis.
“Our students don't measure up compared to a student elsewhere in the state,” said Weeks. “I get my students reading at a sixth grade level as they start the tenth grade. To me, I have performed a miracle if I can find one book they actually read or one project they would love to do. Unfortunately, that is not how the state of Massachusetts measures success,” Weeks lamented.
In fact, Weeks said the lack of parental involvement and overall student apathy has been the biggest challenge of her career thus far. “Half of my job is just getting them to care,” she said. “Since many of these students have never seen family members achieve higher education or move out of the city, they don't know why it is so important to have an education. If the parents checked homework, asked questions, and reached out, these kids would really succeed,” added Weeks.
Something else Weeks thinks would help her students is an equal budget. “We do everything we can for these kids. If they received the same budget as the suburban kids I know we could do anything,” she said. “If this is truly the land of the free, then all Americans should be free to receive a high quality education. Learning is not just for the rich.”
In her five years at the school, Weeks has had many ups and downs. Both her laptop and her cell phone were stolen on separate occasions and she has suffered several bruises from breaking up girl fights in the hallways. But she refuses to leave her students for greener pastures at a better school. “The students at the ‘better’ schools don't need the help the way these kids do,” she said. “As long as I have the energy I will be in the inner city doing what I can to make a difference. I love what I do and I love to see these kids succeed,” she added.
Success according to Megan Weeks is different than another teacher’s definition of the same word. Several of Weeks’s students have matriculated to top colleges, including Holy Cross and Columbia, but those students aren’t considered her greatest accomplishments. “I am most proud of the students that push themselves so hard just to make it to state college,” she explained. “The smiles on their faces and the sincere 'thank you' I receive mean almost more than my first student going to an Ivy League college.”
If Weeks has learned anything during her teaching tenure, she has learned patience and the ability to understand that learning happens very slowly and to accept that change does not happen overnight. “You have to keep at it, even when it seems like you will not succeed,” she said.
But Weeks knows all too well that while learning can’t change overnight, the weather certainly can. But like all the other challenges she has overcome as an inner city teacher, Weeks has learned to deal with the rainy days, garbage cans and all.
Karaoke Video Project
Here is my video project I did on karaoke for my Backpack Reporting class (be warned.. this video contains some bad singing!). I'll be getting my grade on Wednesday, but I think it's an A+ :)
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Green With Envy...and Homesickness
Sometimes it's funny how things work out.
I was bummed all day today because the Celtics season started and I was goi
ng to miss it. Just like I missed the Patriots season opener and every game thereafter. It was disheartening to realize I'd be missing another Boston sports season that has been a huge part of my life (shout out to my Celtics buddy Lissa!) for so many years. It's kind of a suffocating feeling, a little claustrophopic, like being stuck in an elevator with a bunch of fat, smelly or loud people... you have no control over it, you just have to deal with it because it's too late to get out. (Photo: Me and Lissa at the Celtics victory parade in 2008)
I considered wearing my Paul Pierce jersey to class tonight. However, I go to school with a lot of native Chicagoans, including my professor who is a huge sports fan, and I still wanted to have a chance of getting an A after tonight (considering the Celtics beat the Bulls in a hard-fought, seven-game, often controversial playoff series last spring). I did forget that the topic of this evening's class was sports journalism, which totally cheered me up. My jersey would have been appropriate, as my professor put on his Cubs hat to teach the class. We spent three hours learning about the history of media and sports like baseball, football and boxing. It was so awesome, best night of class yet! Worcester even got a shout out!! The professor mentioned it while discussing the roots of baseball and I giggled at his attempt to pronounce "Worcester" correctly. He didn't do too bad with it... however, he did try to give the White Sox credit for winning the 1918 World Series and I just had to correct him at the class break when I handed in my paper. We chatted for a little, I mentioned Worcester, and he was glad to learn I was very interested in sports. I'm totally getting an A now ;)
While I was missing the Celtics opener back home, I was reliving some of Boston and sports' greatest moments in class. And I had my friend who brings her computer to class glued to the internet for the updated score :) The mention of Worcester in class comforted me more than a hot cup of tea on a cold, rainy day. The world isn't so big sometimes, and we often just need little reminders of home to get us through the tough days.
Oh yeah, and GO CELTICS!! I may not be able to cheer in person, but I'll be glued to those online blog and score updates just like I am on Sundays to support the Patriots!
I was bummed all day today because the Celtics season started and I was goi
ng to miss it. Just like I missed the Patriots season opener and every game thereafter. It was disheartening to realize I'd be missing another Boston sports season that has been a huge part of my life (shout out to my Celtics buddy Lissa!) for so many years. It's kind of a suffocating feeling, a little claustrophopic, like being stuck in an elevator with a bunch of fat, smelly or loud people... you have no control over it, you just have to deal with it because it's too late to get out. (Photo: Me and Lissa at the Celtics victory parade in 2008)I considered wearing my Paul Pierce jersey to class tonight. However, I go to school with a lot of native Chicagoans, including my professor who is a huge sports fan, and I still wanted to have a chance of getting an A after tonight (considering the Celtics beat the Bulls in a hard-fought, seven-game, often controversial playoff series last spring). I did forget that the topic of this evening's class was sports journalism, which totally cheered me up. My jersey would have been appropriate, as my professor put on his Cubs hat to teach the class. We spent three hours learning about the history of media and sports like baseball, football and boxing. It was so awesome, best night of class yet! Worcester even got a shout out!! The professor mentioned it while discussing the roots of baseball and I giggled at his attempt to pronounce "Worcester" correctly. He didn't do too bad with it... however, he did try to give the White Sox credit for winning the 1918 World Series and I just had to correct him at the class break when I handed in my paper. We chatted for a little, I mentioned Worcester, and he was glad to learn I was very interested in sports. I'm totally getting an A now ;)
While I was missing the Celtics opener back home, I was reliving some of Boston and sports' greatest moments in class. And I had my friend who brings her computer to class glued to the internet for the updated score :) The mention of Worcester in class comforted me more than a hot cup of tea on a cold, rainy day. The world isn't so big sometimes, and we often just need little reminders of home to get us through the tough days.
Oh yeah, and GO CELTICS!! I may not be able to cheer in person, but I'll be glued to those online blog and score updates just like I am on Sundays to support the Patriots!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Bargains and Buses Don't Mix
Today I learned that while shopping for the best value can save you a few pennies, there is one exception to this practical idea: when you are shopping and traveling via public transportation.
I ventured to Target this afternoon to pick up a few necessities, including some groceries because I have been putting off going to the grocery store for so long that I ran out of food besides rice and peanut butter. Well, because I was raised to find the best bargain possible, I have a hard time resisting buying a larger portion for a better deal. For example... while the half gallon of milk was $1.49 an entire gallon was 50 cents more, so I got the gallon. And why would I buy a dozen eggs for $1.12 when I could purchase 18 of them for $1.27. And when something is 3 for $5 you usually get three. It's the rule of threes! Well, these upgrades saved me some money, but added a whole lot of hassle on the bus ride home. Please laugh at the following along with me as I remember:
-I bought a Brita because the old one was my roommate's and she moved out. The little sticky strap fell off while I was waiting for the bus, so I had to improvise and shove the oversize box into a bag that was previously being used as double-duty for my frozen foods. This must have looked funny to cars sitting at the red light in front of me as I unloaded and reloaded my bags, but thanks to some girl also waiting for the bus, we managed to make the switch.
-When I got on the bus, it was so crowded I kept hitting people with my bags. I fell into the handicapped-preferred seating because the bus driver guns it as soon as the last person steps into the car.
-Well, next stop I took the opportunity to move because I saw some older people getting on. I made my way through the crowd to the back of the bus and when some woman let me have her seat, I put my bags down and sat on my loaf of bread when Speedy the bus driver put the pedal to the metal.
I eventually made it home, and all the way I wondered to myself if I would have struggled as much with a dozen eggs, a half gallon of milk and one or two lean cuisine meals. I cursed myself for waiting so long to go shopping, and for being addicted to Target. However, having to depend on public transportation actually bodes well for me; it helps me spend less money and if I'm considering buying something, I have to picture myself walking home with it and that usually forces me to put it back on the shelf!
But this story has a happy ending, as I've already forgotten about the debacle, and will probably put myself in the same position next time. The thing about procrastination is that you never really learn your lesson. And we all know that I will never pass up saving a few bucks for a comfortable ride home. Besides, if I never sat on my bread you wouldn't have anything interesting to read! And FYI, not one single egg was broken in the adventure!
I ventured to Target this afternoon to pick up a few necessities, including some groceries because I have been putting off going to the grocery store for so long that I ran out of food besides rice and peanut butter. Well, because I was raised to find the best bargain possible, I have a hard time resisting buying a larger portion for a better deal. For example... while the half gallon of milk was $1.49 an entire gallon was 50 cents more, so I got the gallon. And why would I buy a dozen eggs for $1.12 when I could purchase 18 of them for $1.27. And when something is 3 for $5 you usually get three. It's the rule of threes! Well, these upgrades saved me some money, but added a whole lot of hassle on the bus ride home. Please laugh at the following along with me as I remember:
-I bought a Brita because the old one was my roommate's and she moved out. The little sticky strap fell off while I was waiting for the bus, so I had to improvise and shove the oversize box into a bag that was previously being used as double-duty for my frozen foods. This must have looked funny to cars sitting at the red light in front of me as I unloaded and reloaded my bags, but thanks to some girl also waiting for the bus, we managed to make the switch.
-When I got on the bus, it was so crowded I kept hitting people with my bags. I fell into the handicapped-preferred seating because the bus driver guns it as soon as the last person steps into the car.
-Well, next stop I took the opportunity to move because I saw some older people getting on. I made my way through the crowd to the back of the bus and when some woman let me have her seat, I put my bags down and sat on my loaf of bread when Speedy the bus driver put the pedal to the metal.
I eventually made it home, and all the way I wondered to myself if I would have struggled as much with a dozen eggs, a half gallon of milk and one or two lean cuisine meals. I cursed myself for waiting so long to go shopping, and for being addicted to Target. However, having to depend on public transportation actually bodes well for me; it helps me spend less money and if I'm considering buying something, I have to picture myself walking home with it and that usually forces me to put it back on the shelf!
But this story has a happy ending, as I've already forgotten about the debacle, and will probably put myself in the same position next time. The thing about procrastination is that you never really learn your lesson. And we all know that I will never pass up saving a few bucks for a comfortable ride home. Besides, if I never sat on my bread you wouldn't have anything interesting to read! And FYI, not one single egg was broken in the adventure!
Monday, October 26, 2009
My First Media Project- Oktoberfest
Below is the finished product of the Oktoberfest project I was working on last month. This is the video I created and edited that was part of the first media package project in my Backpack Reporting Class. It was due a couple weeks ago and we got our grades back last week. I received an 18.5 out of a possible 20 points. My second project is due this Wednesday... I did this one on karaoke. I learned so much working on this project, and even more on this second one (which I will post when it is finished). Enjoy! And let me know what you think (also, keep in mind it's the first time I have ever done anything like this!!) :)
Halloween and American Culture
So I was sitting at the Corner Bakery downtown the other day eating my linner (the timing of my classes make it impossible to eat at normal times during the week.. too late for lunch, too early for dinner.. so I combine them). Anyways, I couldn't help but overhear the conversation going on next to me. There was a group of people sitting together, and upon further inspection, I eventually realized it was a group of international students from the Kaplan building around the corner, accompanied by their instructor/guide. The guide was attempting to explain the American "holiday" of Halloween to them, and the highlights of Halloween in this city. What caught my attention--and brought on a case of full eavesdropping--was when she began suggesting costume choices and plans to the students.
"A lot of girls go as sexy french maids, with short skirts (hand skimming the very top of her thigh in an attempt to demonstrate "skirt")," she said, "Or a sexy devil..." The list of recommendations continued, but what induced a giggle out of me in the corner was the fact that every costume she suggested had the word "sexy" in it.
Gone are the days of Halloween as a string of candy-infested, costume-contest fun events. The day has now become a competition of sexiness and sluttyness and who can wear the least amount of clothes. Kids can't even bob for apples anymore without fear of catching H1N1 or some other form of cooties, and I'm afraid to even mention the game fearing it might have a very different connotation at my age... my roommate just told me of a party this weekend that gives a prize to the "sexiest" costume. I can't imagine what kinds of contests will be going on at the bars this weekend, but I will be sure to share.
I sat there in the corner, munching on my turkey sandwich, and contemplating how strange this holiday must seem to an international student. For one night, most women leave their clothes--and their self-respect--at home and transform into someone they would never fathom mimicking except in their wildest dreams. Not only is this behavior considered okay, it's wildly encouraged. Especially here in Chicago-- I have been told by numerous people that Halloween and St. Patrick's Day are the two biggest days here, and if I was planning on dressing up, I better make it "sexy." I hate wearing bathing suits at the beach... I highly doubt I will be prancing around in my underwear on a late October night.
I've home-made my costume this year-- I will post pictures on Sunday, and don't worry Dad, I'm all covered up! Now those poor international students from the Corner Bakery might be in a different boat... Welcome to the good ol' USA. Halloween is merely a reflection of American culture, and pretty much the only aspect of it that actually embodies (literally) and enforces the "less is more" idea. Now if only fast-food and corporate America would catch on...
Trick or Treat!
"A lot of girls go as sexy french maids, with short skirts (hand skimming the very top of her thigh in an attempt to demonstrate "skirt")," she said, "Or a sexy devil..." The list of recommendations continued, but what induced a giggle out of me in the corner was the fact that every costume she suggested had the word "sexy" in it.
Gone are the days of Halloween as a string of candy-infested, costume-contest fun events. The day has now become a competition of sexiness and sluttyness and who can wear the least amount of clothes. Kids can't even bob for apples anymore without fear of catching H1N1 or some other form of cooties, and I'm afraid to even mention the game fearing it might have a very different connotation at my age... my roommate just told me of a party this weekend that gives a prize to the "sexiest" costume. I can't imagine what kinds of contests will be going on at the bars this weekend, but I will be sure to share.
I sat there in the corner, munching on my turkey sandwich, and contemplating how strange this holiday must seem to an international student. For one night, most women leave their clothes--and their self-respect--at home and transform into someone they would never fathom mimicking except in their wildest dreams. Not only is this behavior considered okay, it's wildly encouraged. Especially here in Chicago-- I have been told by numerous people that Halloween and St. Patrick's Day are the two biggest days here, and if I was planning on dressing up, I better make it "sexy." I hate wearing bathing suits at the beach... I highly doubt I will be prancing around in my underwear on a late October night.
I've home-made my costume this year-- I will post pictures on Sunday, and don't worry Dad, I'm all covered up! Now those poor international students from the Corner Bakery might be in a different boat... Welcome to the good ol' USA. Halloween is merely a reflection of American culture, and pretty much the only aspect of it that actually embodies (literally) and enforces the "less is more" idea. Now if only fast-food and corporate America would catch on...
Trick or Treat!
Saturday, October 17, 2009
When in Doubt... Figure It Out
I am procrastinating from doing my homework for 15 minutes to share a story with you. Do you ever spend years, days, weeks, hours in doubt wondering if you picked the right path in life and the right career? I do all of the time, and this week--a hard and busy and stressful one at school--I started to severely doubt my purpose and interest in this very hands-on, video and editing centered journalism program. After all, I love writing and planned to do that after graduation so I was tempted to drop the video camera and surrender. And on top of the doubting, I developed a head cold and was feeling crappy. I was ready to quit it all today. But how things can change in a couple of hours.
Tonight I helped my classmate with her media project covering the 11th Annual Matthew Shepard March for Equal Rights. It is a gay rights parade and rally. I don't have time to explain the back stories, but it was a very powerful experience. As I was running around gathering video and interviews at the event tonight, I realized that I am just where I need to be. I was in the zone, and it was fun and exciting to be out there with those people and trying to learn their stories and help the public understand their story as a group. I realized that maybe television journalism could be for me, I just need the practice and that's why I am here. It's not all going to be fun and exciting or easy, but this is surely my niche.
I needed a night like tonight to remind me that I am in the right field and that there is a method to the madness. I left with renewed energy and spirit, mostly because I had a blast doing the work, but also because I fed off the emotions of those people marching for their rights. What I love about writing and journalism is discovering the human aspect of a story and giving it life. Tonight, I was able to be in the moment and appreciate what those people were fighting for. Life is hard. School is hard. And trying to write papers and concentrate with blocked sinuses is hard. But when the struggle of the moment is over, we come out better people. And ready to face the next one. For me, that's a couple papers and a media project on karaoke. And I can't waste any more time thinking about it.
Tonight I helped my classmate with her media project covering the 11th Annual Matthew Shepard March for Equal Rights. It is a gay rights parade and rally. I don't have time to explain the back stories, but it was a very powerful experience. As I was running around gathering video and interviews at the event tonight, I realized that I am just where I need to be. I was in the zone, and it was fun and exciting to be out there with those people and trying to learn their stories and help the public understand their story as a group. I realized that maybe television journalism could be for me, I just need the practice and that's why I am here. It's not all going to be fun and exciting or easy, but this is surely my niche.
I needed a night like tonight to remind me that I am in the right field and that there is a method to the madness. I left with renewed energy and spirit, mostly because I had a blast doing the work, but also because I fed off the emotions of those people marching for their rights. What I love about writing and journalism is discovering the human aspect of a story and giving it life. Tonight, I was able to be in the moment and appreciate what those people were fighting for. Life is hard. School is hard. And trying to write papers and concentrate with blocked sinuses is hard. But when the struggle of the moment is over, we come out better people. And ready to face the next one. For me, that's a couple papers and a media project on karaoke. And I can't waste any more time thinking about it.
Really Quick Recap of Stories You Won't Want to Miss!
To my faithful blog followers (maybe all two of you??)... I apologize for not writing in awhile. School has kicked into full swing (and my ass along with it!). I am behind in paper writing and have projects coming out of my ears. Good news is, I'm getting pretty good with the video camera! I have to register for winter quarter classes soon and I have decided to take just two classes. This will put me off the one-year-completion track, but three classes is stressing me out with all of the work. No wonder taking two classes is considered full-time for a grad student!
Anyways... I wanted to share some fun stories with you from last weekend. My friend Meg came to visit me from Saturday to Tuesday. Here are some of the highlights:
-Saturday night, while wal
king the streets, we stumbled across the Clark/Belmont music street festival... featuring the one and only Vanilla Ice! It was hilarious. He performed for about a half hour (I didn't realize he had enough material for that long, but to be fair he did just shout and spout yells in a raspy voice, perhaps to redefine his image). He sang the classics "Ice Ice Baby" and "Go Ninja" from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie from back in the day (or as my sister Megan would say, B in the D). Interesting observation, he has a motor home, apparently too broke to afford a tour bus. (Photo: Vanilla Ice rapping on stage)
-Saturday night, while wal
king the streets, we stumbled across the Clark/Belmont music street festival... featuring the one and only Vanilla Ice! It was hilarious. He performed for about a half hour (I didn't realize he had enough material for that long, but to be fair he did just shout and spout yells in a raspy voice, perhaps to redefine his image). He sang the classics "Ice Ice Baby" and "Go Ninja" from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie from back in the day (or as my sister Megan would say, B in the D). Interesting observation, he has a motor home, apparently too broke to afford a tour bus. (Photo: Vanilla Ice rapping on stage)-On Sunday, Meg and I googled and found a couple Patriots and Red Sox bars to spend the Boston-sports filled afternoon. It was so much fun to be surrounded by people wearing the same jerseys and talking about the same crappy suburbs and traffic and so on. And groaning at the same plays. And crying at the same losses. I felt at home (well, as much as a bar can make you feel at home). We're done speaking of last Sunday, the Sox and Pats made sure there was nothing memorable about it other than a double-loss, double-heart breaker.
-On a delicious note (here comes the food part of the post!)... I finally had a C
hicago style hot dog and boy are they delicious!! I am obsessed. Both Meg and I started to crave them for the rest of the weekend once we had our first bites! As I mentioned before, the Chicago hot dogs do not come with ketchup and one is forbidden to put ketchup on it. The list of stuff top include: mustard, onion, tomato, relish, cucumber, pickle spear, celery salt and sport peppers (which are spicy and we both took them off). The owner told me that the sugar in the ketchup takes away from the "salad feel" of the toppings. Just delicious. I'm salivating and craving one as I type this. (Photo: Me threatening to put ketchup on my hot dog.. I didn't and I'm glad I didn't!)
hicago style hot dog and boy are they delicious!! I am obsessed. Both Meg and I started to crave them for the rest of the weekend once we had our first bites! As I mentioned before, the Chicago hot dogs do not come with ketchup and one is forbidden to put ketchup on it. The list of stuff top include: mustard, onion, tomato, relish, cucumber, pickle spear, celery salt and sport peppers (which are spicy and we both took them off). The owner told me that the sugar in the ketchup takes away from the "salad feel" of the toppings. Just delicious. I'm salivating and craving one as I type this. (Photo: Me threatening to put ketchup on my hot dog.. I didn't and I'm glad I didn't!)-Sunday night we ventured to the top of the Hancock Tower. The 96th floor Signature Room offers a unique view of the itty-bitty city. And some fabulous mousse cake and overpriced beverages, even if you get soda (like we did). The elevator ride was a solid couple minutes, and ears do pop. I will come prepared with gum next time!
It was sad to bid farewell to my dear friend Tuesday morning. I was a little homesick for the next couple days reliving the fun we had and laughing at pictures we had taken. I take comfort in knowing that I will see everyone soon and it makes me happy (albeit, not for Thanksgiving..sad face).
Monday, October 5, 2009
The One With Vladimir
Tonight in class we were assigned to go out and practice shooting video with the camera... something that would have been useful two weeks ago, before I had to teach myself filming at Oktoberfest for my other class project. Needless to say tonight was an easy night but it took an unexpected and entertaining turn when my group and I ran into these guys playing an early Halloween trick on people on the street.
We were shooting some footage of a large group of pigeons picking at the sidewalk, I got one even trying to cross the street, when a man (well, more like a boy because he was probably younger than me or the same age) in a bad black wig and fake facial hair and sideburns approached us and started speaking in a Russian accent. "Vladimir" and his friends work at a haunted house in the suburbs and were visiting a new Halloween store on the same street. Two friends dared the third to put on the wig and to do or say "crazy stuff" to people. His accent was pretty good and a lot of people bought it. He asked things like "Where can I find the Chicago Packers?" and even hailed two cabs to see if they would give him a free ride to the corner of Wabash and Jackson, which was the next block over. He was turned down both times.
I was filming the whole thing, and it was very challenging to keep the camera still on my shoulder because it was shaking from me laughing so hard. I even snorted once, when "Vladimir" transformed into an Idaho man whose car broke down and he needed a lift. No one would help the poor man. Probably because he looked so ridiculous. We didn't have to turn in our tapes, but I'm pretty sure other people would get entertainment out of what happened. I know the three of us did!
We were shooting some footage of a large group of pigeons picking at the sidewalk, I got one even trying to cross the street, when a man (well, more like a boy because he was probably younger than me or the same age) in a bad black wig and fake facial hair and sideburns approached us and started speaking in a Russian accent. "Vladimir" and his friends work at a haunted house in the suburbs and were visiting a new Halloween store on the same street. Two friends dared the third to put on the wig and to do or say "crazy stuff" to people. His accent was pretty good and a lot of people bought it. He asked things like "Where can I find the Chicago Packers?" and even hailed two cabs to see if they would give him a free ride to the corner of Wabash and Jackson, which was the next block over. He was turned down both times.
I was filming the whole thing, and it was very challenging to keep the camera still on my shoulder because it was shaking from me laughing so hard. I even snorted once, when "Vladimir" transformed into an Idaho man whose car broke down and he needed a lift. No one would help the poor man. Probably because he looked so ridiculous. We didn't have to turn in our tapes, but I'm pretty sure other people would get entertainment out of what happened. I know the three of us did!
An Apple a Day
I can now add Wisconsin to the list of states I have visited. That list, while enhanced by this addition, is still pretty unimpressive. However, the reason I went to Wisconsin on Sunday in the point of this post...
Yesterday, my friend and I went on an adventure to go apple picking. It was only about an hour ride--not too far over the Illinois border-- and our hopes were high thanks to the beautiful weather. But what we found when we got there was a tad disappointing and spoiled our plan:
-We pulled into the parking lot... $5 to park.
-We went to go buy a bag for the purpose of picking apples... we were told that it would be $40.
At first, I was in fury that commercialism has managed to attack and ruin yet another American tradition and one of my personal favorite pastimes! However, Apple Holler Farm was festive and I was sure the hefty price for picking also included the smell of manure, I mean the goats available for petting, a barn with live family music and the delicious smell of freshly baked apple pastries. We abandoned the idea of picking our own apples and instead I picked four pounds of apples from the barrels in the market section of the Farm. We then indulged in apple turnovers and apple donuts, which were still warm they were so fresh. And I fought the urge to buy a caramel apple, as I couldn't decide if I wanted a Packers themed (green and yellow sprinkle topping) or a Bears themed (blue and orange sprinkles) apple.
Our stomachs full and our craving for apple-themed goodies sated, we left the
Farm and took the scenic route home along the lake. The weather was an ideal fall day; just cool enough to remind you that the seasons have officially changed but the sun was shining enough to warm those who still refuse to wear an appropriate jacket (you can't yell at me through a blog mom!). On the way back to the big city, we stopped in the town of Lake Bluff, which is about 20 miles north of Chicago. We walked down the cliff and onto the beach area, spending a few minutes admiring the blue water and boats that were out for a Sunday sail. The area reminded me of a coastal Maine town; beautiful houses in a such a serene atmosphere. (Photo: a view from the cliff)
The day was capped with one of the best cheeseburgers I have ever had and a side of tater tots (tater tots are the thing around here. No french fries for me!). And I am sure that none of you are in the least bit surprised that I have spent an entire blog post talking about food.
So, just to recap: Parking... $5.. Apples... $40... a fun-filled fall day and a new state experience... Priceless. Awesome cheeseburger... $8 (sorry, I couldn't leave it out... it was that good!). Great food, great weather and great company made for a very fun Sunday. Too bad it had to end with a flurry of paper writing.
Yesterday, my friend and I went on an adventure to go apple picking. It was only about an hour ride--not too far over the Illinois border-- and our hopes were high thanks to the beautiful weather. But what we found when we got there was a tad disappointing and spoiled our plan:
-We pulled into the parking lot... $5 to park.
-We went to go buy a bag for the purpose of picking apples... we were told that it would be $40.
At first, I was in fury that commercialism has managed to attack and ruin yet another American tradition and one of my personal favorite pastimes! However, Apple Holler Farm was festive and I was sure the hefty price for picking also included the smell of manure, I mean the goats available for petting, a barn with live family music and the delicious smell of freshly baked apple pastries. We abandoned the idea of picking our own apples and instead I picked four pounds of apples from the barrels in the market section of the Farm. We then indulged in apple turnovers and apple donuts, which were still warm they were so fresh. And I fought the urge to buy a caramel apple, as I couldn't decide if I wanted a Packers themed (green and yellow sprinkle topping) or a Bears themed (blue and orange sprinkles) apple.
Our stomachs full and our craving for apple-themed goodies sated, we left the
Farm and took the scenic route home along the lake. The weather was an ideal fall day; just cool enough to remind you that the seasons have officially changed but the sun was shining enough to warm those who still refuse to wear an appropriate jacket (you can't yell at me through a blog mom!). On the way back to the big city, we stopped in the town of Lake Bluff, which is about 20 miles north of Chicago. We walked down the cliff and onto the beach area, spending a few minutes admiring the blue water and boats that were out for a Sunday sail. The area reminded me of a coastal Maine town; beautiful houses in a such a serene atmosphere. (Photo: a view from the cliff)The day was capped with one of the best cheeseburgers I have ever had and a side of tater tots (tater tots are the thing around here. No french fries for me!). And I am sure that none of you are in the least bit surprised that I have spent an entire blog post talking about food.
So, just to recap: Parking... $5.. Apples... $40... a fun-filled fall day and a new state experience... Priceless. Awesome cheeseburger... $8 (sorry, I couldn't leave it out... it was that good!). Great food, great weather and great company made for a very fun Sunday. Too bad it had to end with a flurry of paper writing.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
A Different Kind of Fall
October is one of my favorite times of the year because it offers a trifecta of sense-sational events. It's when you can smell summer changing to fall, see the leaves shedding the long year from their branches, and hear the sound of a ref's whistle as if he were telling you that football season is in full swing.
This used to be one of the greatest times of the year for me. Going ap
ple picking with the friends or family I dragged to the orchard on terms of nostalgia, pumpkin carving, and lazy Sundays watching football. This year, because of an off season trade from New England to Chicago, I've had to live vicariously through the Facebook statuses of those who have taken trips to the orchard and of those who are still able to watch the Patriots every Sunday (that means you, New Englanders, keep those statuses coming!).
(Photo: Dad, Megan and I apple picking many years ago... Mom was the photographer and Sean was too cool.)
The cooler October weather promotes that there's-nothing-better-than-this feeling, inviting you to sit around in sweats with a laptop or a notebook doing some work while watching men run around in tights chasing a pigskin. This year, that feeling is diminished for me because those men I'm watching aren't my beloved Patriots; they are Bears, Packers and Bengals (oh my!). I guess I could venture out and find a bar to cheer on Brady and his Bunch, but seriously, who wants to go to a bar at noon? And I can't do my homework at the same time OR wear sweatpants. I've settled on following the Red Sox, Bruins and Patriots scores via Boston.com's "at the stadium" blogs. And those Facebook statuses.
Football just isn't the same for me anymore. Being in a city filled with fans from many different teams blurs my passion for the sport. People love the Bears here, a team that's not even in the same league as the AFC Patriots. There aren't even any rivals around here to care enough about my hometown team to trash talk once in a while. I can't believe I'm about to admit this, but hearing people hate on your team is better than nothing at all. I still get to hold on to the Red Sox because fans of the AL White Sox care enough to throw $6 ballpark hotdogs at Boston fans. See this earlier post in case you missed that story.
But what makes me most sad about the changes I've undergone by switching camps, and something that can't be solved by a Facebook status, online blog or local bar, is that I can't watch football games with my Dad anymore. I used to watch them with him nearly every Sunday. I'd drive home, do laundry, enjoy some of mom's home cooking and lounge on the couch talking shop with my pop. Now 900 miles away, I can call and he can give me a play-by-play of the game, but it's not the same kind of bonding experience. I can't yell at the refs with him because I don't know what happened, nor can I curse a wide receiver with slippery fingers because I didn't see him drop the pass to know if he should have caught it or not. If it was Ben Watson I can guess that he probably should have caught it, but other than that I'm useless.
My Dad and I used to watch the Patriots together way before they were good and before Tom Brady was even tossing passes as a Wolverine. I remember vividly watching a game together in 1
996, a match up between the Patriots and the then expansion Jaguars, I'm pretty sure it was the AFC Championship. I discovered my love of sports by listening to the Bruins on the radio with my Dad as he worked in his basement workshop (we didn't have that fancy cable). He coached me on my softball teams for years and taught me some hard lessons (for a 12-year-old that is) because he never played me just because I was his daughter. To me, sports aren't just a hobby or a career aspiration. Sports are something I will always associate with my Dad. It's our "thing." (Photo: My Dad and I toasting to my 21st birthday)
Some changes are easier to deal with than others. The changing of the leaves and the changing of the seasons are aesthetically pleasing. The changing of a wardrobe can get complicated. But those things are mastered after years of habitual practice. The changing of the way football Sundays feel to me was not something for which I was prepared. Each Sunday brings on a pang of loneliness and homesickness as it is a reminder of what I have sacrificed by moving, like an athlete who gives up being a fan favorite in order to move to a team in playoff contention.
I guess I just have to learn how to make it work and transfer those feelings in a different manner now that I am a time zone away. Or just learn to enjoy going to a bar at 10 a.m. to get a good seat for the Patriots game. But one thing's for sure: next time I am home, I won't take those Sundays watching football with my Dad for granted. I just hope it isn't a bye week.
This used to be one of the greatest times of the year for me. Going ap
ple picking with the friends or family I dragged to the orchard on terms of nostalgia, pumpkin carving, and lazy Sundays watching football. This year, because of an off season trade from New England to Chicago, I've had to live vicariously through the Facebook statuses of those who have taken trips to the orchard and of those who are still able to watch the Patriots every Sunday (that means you, New Englanders, keep those statuses coming!).(Photo: Dad, Megan and I apple picking many years ago... Mom was the photographer and Sean was too cool.)
The cooler October weather promotes that there's-nothing-better-than-this feeling, inviting you to sit around in sweats with a laptop or a notebook doing some work while watching men run around in tights chasing a pigskin. This year, that feeling is diminished for me because those men I'm watching aren't my beloved Patriots; they are Bears, Packers and Bengals (oh my!). I guess I could venture out and find a bar to cheer on Brady and his Bunch, but seriously, who wants to go to a bar at noon? And I can't do my homework at the same time OR wear sweatpants. I've settled on following the Red Sox, Bruins and Patriots scores via Boston.com's "at the stadium" blogs. And those Facebook statuses.
Football just isn't the same for me anymore. Being in a city filled with fans from many different teams blurs my passion for the sport. People love the Bears here, a team that's not even in the same league as the AFC Patriots. There aren't even any rivals around here to care enough about my hometown team to trash talk once in a while. I can't believe I'm about to admit this, but hearing people hate on your team is better than nothing at all. I still get to hold on to the Red Sox because fans of the AL White Sox care enough to throw $6 ballpark hotdogs at Boston fans. See this earlier post in case you missed that story.
But what makes me most sad about the changes I've undergone by switching camps, and something that can't be solved by a Facebook status, online blog or local bar, is that I can't watch football games with my Dad anymore. I used to watch them with him nearly every Sunday. I'd drive home, do laundry, enjoy some of mom's home cooking and lounge on the couch talking shop with my pop. Now 900 miles away, I can call and he can give me a play-by-play of the game, but it's not the same kind of bonding experience. I can't yell at the refs with him because I don't know what happened, nor can I curse a wide receiver with slippery fingers because I didn't see him drop the pass to know if he should have caught it or not. If it was Ben Watson I can guess that he probably should have caught it, but other than that I'm useless.
My Dad and I used to watch the Patriots together way before they were good and before Tom Brady was even tossing passes as a Wolverine. I remember vividly watching a game together in 1
996, a match up between the Patriots and the then expansion Jaguars, I'm pretty sure it was the AFC Championship. I discovered my love of sports by listening to the Bruins on the radio with my Dad as he worked in his basement workshop (we didn't have that fancy cable). He coached me on my softball teams for years and taught me some hard lessons (for a 12-year-old that is) because he never played me just because I was his daughter. To me, sports aren't just a hobby or a career aspiration. Sports are something I will always associate with my Dad. It's our "thing." (Photo: My Dad and I toasting to my 21st birthday) Some changes are easier to deal with than others. The changing of the leaves and the changing of the seasons are aesthetically pleasing. The changing of a wardrobe can get complicated. But those things are mastered after years of habitual practice. The changing of the way football Sundays feel to me was not something for which I was prepared. Each Sunday brings on a pang of loneliness and homesickness as it is a reminder of what I have sacrificed by moving, like an athlete who gives up being a fan favorite in order to move to a team in playoff contention.
I guess I just have to learn how to make it work and transfer those feelings in a different manner now that I am a time zone away. Or just learn to enjoy going to a bar at 10 a.m. to get a good seat for the Patriots game. But one thing's for sure: next time I am home, I won't take those Sundays watching football with my Dad for granted. I just hope it isn't a bye week.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Chicago's Got No Games
This is Kim Dunbar reporting live from Chicago, where the city has just found out that they will NOT be hosting the 2016 Olympic Games. Gasps fell across the crowd gathered at Daley Plaza in downtown Chicago this morning as they watched the IOC oust the city's Olympic bid in the first round. A wave of disappointment followed...
So I hear. I abandoned the idea of heading downtown this morning and opted to watch the announcement of the winner in the comfort of my pajamas and warm apartment. I hate big crowds.
I'm not sure if the city's disappointment was a result of this giant letdown or if people were bummed that the city wouldn't be able to throw the celebratory party planned for this afternoon. Chicago's Olympic bid has been clogging the news and has been the topic of conversation everywhere one goes in the city. DePaul even offered a special class about the Olympics this fall. I am glad it is over, but am amazed at the uneventful and screeching-halt manner in which it all ended.
Image above right: My roommate took this photo downtown yesterday of the Daley Plaza getting ready for the viewing party. This Picasso statue is wearing a medal around its neck and what looks to be a crown.
It is safe to say that while there were some against the Games coming here, the majority of Chicagoans did want them and their moods now match this cloudy, gray weather. Ironically, we didn't need Mother Nature to rain on our parade today, the IOC did it for us. People on Twitter are suggest that perhaps Kanye West should have shown up, or maybe Oprah should have bought the members of the IOC committee Pontiacs. I suspect for the next several days we will continue to hear about the reasons Chicago lost, including a nasty flurry of political accusations which will no doubt intensify the already rocky relationship we have with the IOC and harm the country's chances of hosting the Games in America anytime soon. There are already several articles being published which blame Obama.
Most disappointed Chicagoans probably didn't hear what the IOC president said before opening the winning envelope, as they were probably already headed home, heads hanging. He said that "in every competition there is a winner and there is a loser." Today, Rio was the winner and we should embrace the heart-warming story of a continent which has never hosted the Olympic Games before. We would expect the same respect and congratulations if Chicago had won. It is okay to be disappointed, but people should just remember that we still live in the great city of Chicago, and therefore we are all winners. Now go eat some pizza and feel better!
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Numbers Don't Lie
Today is my 42nd day living in Chicago. When I think about that number in days, it seems like a long time! That's more than a whole Lenten period! Seeing I have given up my family and friends for 42 days, does that mean I can get out of giving something up for Lent this spring? I think I'm going to need to keep the usual sacrifices of chocolate, ice cream, caffeine, etc. to get me through school!
Other interesting things associated with the number 42:
*It is the atomic number for molybdenum, aka Mo, or the Ancient Greek word for lead.
*Another Mo associated with the number 42... Yankees closer Mariano Rivera (eww, I just referenced the Yankees in my blog post). I always wondered how Rivera still gets to wear that number, despite the fact that the 42 jersey is retired across all of Major League Baseball in honor of Jackie Robinson. It is also retired by Arizona State University in honor of Pat Tillman, an alum and NFL player until his death in Iraq in 2004.
*42 is the name of a track on Coldplay's latest album (the lyrics are kind of creepy... raise your hand if you are now going to google them. Did you seriously just raise your hand?)
*A rainbow appears at 42 degrees.
*And finally, 42 is probably most known as the answer to "the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything." Well, at least according to Douglas Adams in his book trilogy Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (I think they made that into a movie featuring The Rock).
Forty-two days into my new life adventure, I haven't found the answer to life, the universe or everything. Or anything really at that. Last night in class I had a hard time trying to figure out how to edit the footage I took last weekend at Oktoberfest for my project and got discouraged and frustrated. I'm not comfortable trying to navigate my way through a new field or not knowing what I'm doing. However, after thinking it over for a day, I realized that's the reason I came here in the first place. I'm not comfortable in front of a camera or shooting video, but after last weekend I'm getting more comfortable with that. So, this too shall come.
But--and I really hope this doesn't sound as cheesy as I think it is going to--I have learned some stuff about myself that I didn't know before I changed time zones. Most important of those things: I've realized that I can live on my own in a strange city and embrace new things as they present themselves. However, I couldn't have made it through without my friends or family. So in my version of Adams' world, 42 equals friends and family. Not because I have 42 of them, but because my friends and family have been the answers for me during these 42 days I have been living in Chicago. I guess I never really gave them up after all.
Strangely, it's 8:42 p.m. central time. Seems like a good time to end this thing, and a good time to start thinking about what I'll give up for Lent this year...
Other interesting things associated with the number 42:
*It is the atomic number for molybdenum, aka Mo, or the Ancient Greek word for lead.
*Another Mo associated with the number 42... Yankees closer Mariano Rivera (eww, I just referenced the Yankees in my blog post). I always wondered how Rivera still gets to wear that number, despite the fact that the 42 jersey is retired across all of Major League Baseball in honor of Jackie Robinson. It is also retired by Arizona State University in honor of Pat Tillman, an alum and NFL player until his death in Iraq in 2004.
*42 is the name of a track on Coldplay's latest album (the lyrics are kind of creepy... raise your hand if you are now going to google them. Did you seriously just raise your hand?)
*A rainbow appears at 42 degrees.
*And finally, 42 is probably most known as the answer to "the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything." Well, at least according to Douglas Adams in his book trilogy Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (I think they made that into a movie featuring The Rock).
Forty-two days into my new life adventure, I haven't found the answer to life, the universe or everything. Or anything really at that. Last night in class I had a hard time trying to figure out how to edit the footage I took last weekend at Oktoberfest for my project and got discouraged and frustrated. I'm not comfortable trying to navigate my way through a new field or not knowing what I'm doing. However, after thinking it over for a day, I realized that's the reason I came here in the first place. I'm not comfortable in front of a camera or shooting video, but after last weekend I'm getting more comfortable with that. So, this too shall come.
But--and I really hope this doesn't sound as cheesy as I think it is going to--I have learned some stuff about myself that I didn't know before I changed time zones. Most important of those things: I've realized that I can live on my own in a strange city and embrace new things as they present themselves. However, I couldn't have made it through without my friends or family. So in my version of Adams' world, 42 equals friends and family. Not because I have 42 of them, but because my friends and family have been the answers for me during these 42 days I have been living in Chicago. I guess I never really gave them up after all.
Strangely, it's 8:42 p.m. central time. Seems like a good time to end this thing, and a good time to start thinking about what I'll give up for Lent this year...
Monday, September 28, 2009
Mond-A!!
Well, I didn't sleep too well last night because it was extremely windy out and I was still paranoid about tornadoes. My friend assured me that the warnings happen here, but the funnels never touch down in the city, just the suburbs if they even do at all. I will be prepared--and not so worried--next time.
Tonight, I got my first A of grad school!! The professor handed back the obits we had to write about ourselves, and she commented that mine was excellent and very creative. I killed myself via brain aneurysm, a compromise from the heart attack I originally had planned and the flesh-eating bacteria virus my dad thought would be much cooler or more interesting to die from. This week, we had to read our column articles we wrote to the class. Mine was called: "When it comes to sports... it's still a man's world." You can guess what that was about ;) She really liked it and said that it could be a real column because she had never read anything like it. Hopefully that will be my second A of grad school!!
I forgot to mention that last week, I wrote my first piece for the website Breaking Tweets Sports. I decided to start getting involved in campus and other writing activities (even if they were unpaid) in order to add more experience to my resume. Breaking Tweets is a website created last winter by a then-DePaul student and is a world news website done twitter style; someone writes a news story and shows how the twitter world reacts to the story around the world. It embraces the idea of citizen journalism. Anyways, here is my first contribution.
http://www.breakingtweets.com/sports/2009/09/22/plaxico-burress-sentenced-to-two-years-in-prison/
OK, time to start writing a paper due tomorrow!
Tonight, I got my first A of grad school!! The professor handed back the obits we had to write about ourselves, and she commented that mine was excellent and very creative. I killed myself via brain aneurysm, a compromise from the heart attack I originally had planned and the flesh-eating bacteria virus my dad thought would be much cooler or more interesting to die from. This week, we had to read our column articles we wrote to the class. Mine was called: "When it comes to sports... it's still a man's world." You can guess what that was about ;) She really liked it and said that it could be a real column because she had never read anything like it. Hopefully that will be my second A of grad school!!
I forgot to mention that last week, I wrote my first piece for the website Breaking Tweets Sports. I decided to start getting involved in campus and other writing activities (even if they were unpaid) in order to add more experience to my resume. Breaking Tweets is a website created last winter by a then-DePaul student and is a world news website done twitter style; someone writes a news story and shows how the twitter world reacts to the story around the world. It embraces the idea of citizen journalism. Anyways, here is my first contribution.
http://www.breakingtweets.com/sports/2009/09/22/plaxico-burress-sentenced-to-two-years-in-prison/
OK, time to start writing a paper due tomorrow!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Tornadoes... not the Worcester baseball team
I just survived my first tornado warning. There had been a tornado watch through the night and I knew the Midwest gets a lot of those. Then the TV went black and the tornado warning came up with the beeps, and the voice advising to take cover and a timeline of when the tornado would hit (I missed half of it because I was about to have an anxiety attack). I freaked out because I was alone in my apartment and didn't know what to do (I would like to apologize to my mom for calling her frantically. But would also like to thank her for helping me get through it).
I am extremely afraid of tornadoes; I was traumatized in elementary school when my teacher thought it would be a good idea to study the Worcester tornado of 1940-something. But, for some reason I love the movie Twister. So when the beeping on the TV came on, I freaked out and wished I was roommates with Helen Hunt or Bill Paxton.
I really hope that never happens again, or at least when I'm alone.
I am extremely afraid of tornadoes; I was traumatized in elementary school when my teacher thought it would be a good idea to study the Worcester tornado of 1940-something. But, for some reason I love the movie Twister. So when the beeping on the TV came on, I freaked out and wished I was roommates with Helen Hunt or Bill Paxton.
I really hope that never happens again, or at least when I'm alone.
Brats, Beer and Fun!
I sit here on Sunday, taking a break from reading and writing, to recap on my Oktoberfest adventures from yesterday.
As I mentioned before, my Backpack Reporting class requires me to create a media package on something in which I have to film video, do interviewing, an on ca
mera bit, etc. I decided to cover the Oktoberfest festival at St. Alphonsus church, about a 10 minute walk from where I live. My classmate and friend, Audrey, came with me and helped me do the filming part. She has previous experience and already filmed hers, so she knew what she was doing and guided me through it, making it so much easier. However, I thought I would have a panic attack when we discovered we didn't have the correct microphone cord and would have to use the camera mike for everything (which is difficult to do at a festival with lots of background noise). The camera tripod was also problematic, there was a jammed screw where the camera connects, so we had to improvise.
mera bit, etc. I decided to cover the Oktoberfest festival at St. Alphonsus church, about a 10 minute walk from where I live. My classmate and friend, Audrey, came with me and helped me do the filming part. She has previous experience and already filmed hers, so she knew what she was doing and guided me through it, making it so much easier. However, I thought I would have a panic attack when we discovered we didn't have the correct microphone cord and would have to use the camera mike for everything (which is difficult to do at a festival with lots of background noise). The camera tripod was also problematic, there was a jammed screw where the camera connects, so we had to improvise. But all went very well. Everyone was so nice and we made friends with the grilling team. They gave us some handmade brats to eat, which were absolutely delicious, and homemade tarts and some soda. They also gave us the background of the church fair and how the festival came to be. Before the festival some older German women hand make 10,000 pounds of brats and hand roll them, as well as the secret recipe potato salad and sauerkraut. I got more than I needed for my project and it was really fun.
I did my on-camera stand up in between two of the grillers at the grill holding a stein, so I am hoping my creativity will make up for my lousy camera appearance. I was shaking the stein while talking too fast, so I need some practice for sure! However, I noticed I wasn't super uncomfortable and didn't turn red like I thought I would (you heard that before!). I can already notice how this program is helping my confidence and I keep getting more and more encouraged. Now off to the editing process!
Afer I got back from filming, my roommate and I returned to the festival for some more fun. There was an awesome 80's cover band called "16 Candles" that sang the BEST 80's songs for over two hours. Such a blast!
Above are some photos from the festival: Brats and German Potato Salad (it's warm and has a sweet taste to it) and the first band to hit the stage (they have some complicated German name so I am going to leave them anonymous).
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