My apartment

Ok, so I have finally finished unpacking and organizing my room (applause, please)! I took some photos of my apartment. Here are a couple for your viewing pleasure. Now that I know how to insert photos into posts, there will be plenty more visual treats coming your way!!

The view from the doorway and the view from my giant walk-in closet:

The living room, and attached to it is a large dining room. I took a picture but it didn't come out good:

The outside of my apartment from the street and the view from my bedroom. We have a little backyard and a little porch that comes off the kitchen.

Ok, that's all for now. Hope you enjoyed it!

Are You Ready to Talk Derby?

This weekend was full of new experiences. I had my first celebrity sighting when I saw tainted ex- Illinois governor Rob Blagojevich running the streets in the Lincoln Square neighborhood. He may be going to jail, but at least he still has a lot of hair. That's probably the only thing he has going for him.

My old college friend, Katie, drove down from Wisconsin on Saturday and she, her sister and I went to a roller derby bout. Her friend plays for the Charm City (Baltimore) All Stars and it was their last regular season game vs. the Windy City Rollers. I had never seen roller derby in person but it is quite exciting! So much so I wanted to become a derby girl myself. Too bad I don't roller skate well, which was only emphasized when I went roller skating for my 25th birthday and the kids were breezing by me at Skylite. It took a while to catch on to the rules of roller derby, but once you have a grasp on the method to the madness, the game is very entertaining. The sport is perceived as a shoving, tripping, violent sport sometimes but these girls were more focused on playing the game than harming the opponent. The pushing comes from the blockers trying to hold off the jammers who are trying to get through the pack to score. Yes, there are collisions, but it's all in the name of the game. I am predicting a rise in awareness and popularity of the sport among females as soon as Drew Barrymore's directorial debut "Whip It" is released, a moving starring Barrymore and Ellen Page (Juno) in which Page finds her niche as a member of the local roller derby team. The pictures above: (top) Charm City makes their entrance lap and (bottom) the teams are set for a round. Those are the jammers behind the pack.

On the walk back from the UIC Pavilion to the hotel (which our balcony had a great view of the Sears Tower... sorry Willis Tower), we walked through the Greek Fest in search of a late dinner. Greek Town is in this area of the city where we were, I think it's also part of what is called the West Loop, and the annual Greek festival was going on. It was cool; Greek music, dancing, games and TONS of food. I got a gyro-- it is pronounced yeer-0w not jie-row like I had always thought. If you pronounce it jie-row, the Greeks kick you out of their town. Luckily I had been warned of this beforehand. I was told that there are all sorts of street festivals like this throughout the city. I can't wait for the next one!

Later in the night, I was at a bar and ran into an old ESPN colleague and his wife. It was so random but awesome. We were friends when we worked there and I knew he lived in Chicago but had no way of getting in touch with him (he is NOT on facebook!). Once again, what a small world.

My first official weekend in Chi-town was exciting and I welcomed all the new experiences, after all, that's what this whole move was about!

Big City, Small World

So here we are... TGIF! Today marks my first official weekend in the Windy City, but more importantly, it marks the day my mom told me to give it until I decided to stay or go. With one week under my belt, I am happy to report that I will be staying!

My wise, wise editor told me the other day that one day the tears would stop coming and I would be ready to face the new challenges I set out to accomplish. It seemed hard to believe at the time, but now I understand what everyone meant when they said it would get better. I would like to send a GIANT thank you to all the friends and family--and even those I haven't been that close with over the years-- who have reached out and helped me get through this tough week.

On Wednesday night I had drinks with a friend and her coworkers at the Sears Tower... excuse me, the Willis Tower. I thought how cool that was, and as I rode the El back through the "loop" (downtown Chicago) and saw the skyline lit up as we passed along, my outlook changed to the sunny side (although the weather took the opposite attitude). Yesterday I was in the shower and thought how amazing it was that I am living in Chicago. And walking through my neighborhood that day the feeling kept coming back. I think that excitement--along with the wonders that are called Skype and webcams-- are dulling the feelings of homesickness.

Over the past two days I have also been learning what a small world it is...

Last night I met two women, one of whom used to live in Medford, MA, but now lives in Chicago. She noticed I was cheering for the Red Sox and not the White Sox, put two and two together and the conversation was started. She owns her own dental practice in the neighborhood.. looks like I found a dentist!

And today, I was walking up and down my street applying to bars and restaurants for a waitressing job and came across a place called The Hidden Shamrock. I almost didn't go in, but boy am I glad I did! The woman greeted me warmly with her Irish accent and we had a pleasant conversation. Although she just hired someone, five minutes into our conversation she took down my number and told me she wanted to hire me as a server as soon as she could. Upon further discussion, I found out that this bar is going to start airing Patriots games as soon as the season starts (most bars in Chicago affiliate themselves with a college and a pro NFL team during football season--it's actually pretty cool, so us out-of-towners can catch our favorite teams in a friendly environment). I was elated to learn that I had found my Sunday viewing spot! And THEN, after I explained that I was a Patriots fan because I had lived in Boston for a few years and had grown up in Worcester, she tells me that one of the owners grew up in Worcester, too! Both owners are from New England, the other from Brighton, MA. Looks like I've found a mini home-away-from-home. Me and Cathy are buddies now.

Although this is a big city, Walt Disney was right... It's a small world after all... (ha ha, now you will have that song in your head for at least an hour!) :)

"Keep Your Eye on the Ball..."

I have always wondered why there were signs posted on the El prohibiting smoking, gambling and soliciting. In Boston, smoking, eating and drinking on the T are against the rules, although no one follows the latter two, myself included. And apparently in Chicago, no one follows the latter two regulations either.

I was riding the El on Tuesday night, crammed in a car with Cubs fans. As soon as we pulled away from Addison, there was just two fans left, both wearing Greg Maddux jerseys. Curious, I looked over (I couldn't help it, I was listening to my ipod and I could still hear him talking) and realized that the two buddies were hosting a gambling ring! One man served as the ringleader, clutching a wad of $100 bills in one hand while the other guy egged him on as his sidekick. "If you have a hundred, win a hundred," he said. It didn't appear to be a scam, he was actually handing out hundreds back to people. If I had a hundred bucks I would have been tempted...and also pretty stupid to be carrying that much money around with me.

The object of the game was to keep you eye on the ball underneath the cup and at the end of his shuffling, to pick the correct cup the ball was under. If you kept your eye on the ball, you won the prize. It got me thinking that perhaps I could use a little of that game in my life.

Tuesday was the first day I was on my own in Chicago, and I spent nearly the entire day crying because I was so homesick. I looked up plan fares home and moving companies. I was back in the mindset that I had bitten off more than I could chew. But thanks to some brilliant advice from a couple friends, who told me to just remember the reasons I came out here, I managed to turn off the waterworks and adapt a more positive outlook. I was promised that this would be worth it, I just had to give life here a chance. In essence, I just had to keep my eye on the prize.

I don't know why I have never picked up the "keep your eye on the ball" idea until I saw the gambling Cubs fan on the El. Growing up playing softball and as a field hockey goalie, my focus was always on the ball. But it didn't come easy.

When I was eight-years-old I was so little I could crouch down at the plate and the minuscule strike zone I created almost always guaranteed a walk. I was the team's secret weapon, so much so that I never got a hit-- I didn't need to, I was always issued the four finger salute. One day my mom, sensing that I was afraid of swinging, promised me $1 and a slush puppy if I could get a hit. A couple games later, I made contact. I hit a foul ball, but it was good enough for my mom and she gave me that $1 and slush puppy. I kept my eye on the ball and earned the prize. The result wasn't perfect, or even a hit, but I did it.

Perhaps if I continue to keep my eye on the ball, I will win the ultimate prize. I just can't be afraid to swing. If I can swing at the plate, take my chances at living in this big city, I just may get what I came here for. Whether the ball lands fair or foul, I will have at least made contact. Maybe I just needed a little encouragement, not a slush puppy but just words of wisdom from friends. And like the people on the El who took a gamble on the game, I need to invest something in order to get a rewarding return.

And if I swing and strike out, I can adopt the mindset of the little boy in Kenny Roger's song, "I Am the Greatest:"

He says I am the greatest that is a fact

But even I didn't know I could pitch like that

I just have to remember that life doesn't always go the way you plan it, but sometimes it turns out better than you can imagine.

"It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do..."

For the entire second half of this day, I have been running the chorus of "Hardest Thing" by 98 Degrees in my head. Not because it was on my ipod or anything, but because saying goodbye to my mother today before and at the airport was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

A little background: My mom and I flew out to Chicago on Thursday night-- Logan was the first airport I cried at when I had to say goodbye to my sister and father. We spent the weekend together getting stuff for my apartment (we only had one mini crying moment in Target when I caught her hiding in an aisle tearing up and saying something about laundry detergent to cover it up), assembling Ikea furniture (I fully understand why the directions require you to have a pencil and a buddy to put their crap together--the pencil to stab your eyes out when the going gets rough) and sightseeing around the city (I got to show her a taste of all the reasons why I love the Windy City). After a few nights in a cozy hotel with a kick ass car (I highly recommend hotwire to anyone looking for good prices on either of these), we spent the first night at my apartment on Sunday. Everything was going well.

Then I woke up this morning, realizing what was to come later in the day and what was really happening. I was going to be left alone. My mom was leaving and I was staying. This wasn't a long weekend trip to Chicago like I was used to, I was not going back to Boston. When my mom caught me mid-breakdown on the couch, she realized there weren't just goodbye tears streaming down my pale cheeks; these were tears of sheer panic. I wanted to go home with her, I didn't believe I could do this anymore, even though it was something I was determined to make happen and that I thought I wanted. Sometimes people think they want something and when they try it out, it just doesn't fit (now I understand why there are so many divorces in this world...). Maybe that's what I was experiencing. My mom comforted me, hugged me and talked to me. I felt awful.. I thought I would be the one comforting her when she was left and now I just made her feel worse, thinking she was not only leaving me in a strange city, but as an absolute mess. She is a strong person and doesn't realize it; by holding back her own tears and putting on a brave face for the both of us, it was the only thing that stopped me from boarding her United flight to Logan.

I held it together for the train ride to the airport, but then we became the hugging, crying couple by the security gates I always felt bad for when I passed them. She assured me I could do this, and that if I couldn't I wouldn't be a considered a failure. Those words coming from her meant so much and were comforting. I wiped my eyes with the paper towel I had taken from the bathroom, in anticipation of this very moment, and then she disappeared around the corner.

I spent the next hour and a half on the El contemplating my strength and courage. Could I do this or was it just too much? I decided I couldn't, and as soon as I burst into my apartment door I just as soon burst into tears. It probably wasn't a good time to start opening my mail that was sitting there for me... I think I discarded some kind of credit card notice in the process. Anyhoo...

During my sobbing fest, I remembered something my mom told me on the very same couch a couple hours earlier: You are never alone. There is always someone around who cares, even if it requires a phone call to prove it. She told me I had to stay connected to my friends and my family back in Massachusetts whenever I felt alone, so I dialed my sister. I told her that she and my mom are my best friends and I couldn't stand being so far from them. I wasn't sure if what I was feeling was nostalgia after a great weekend with mom or if I was really just terribly homesick. I went with nostalgia, seeing I cried when I looked at a banana my mom bought me in a grocery run and the leftover bag of Garrett's popcorn we shared the day before. My sister told me I could do this adventure and feeling homesick was natural and a whole bunch of other stuff that made sense and made me feel a lot better. She is wise and doesn't give herself enough credit for it.

Under my sister's orders, I brushed my hair, got it together and joined my roommates and their friend for a long walk for some dinner and shopping. I still felt sad, but was refreshed and more confident. My window for pity crying was over for the day, and I looked for the positives as I chipped away at the situation on my bed that looked like two U-Haul boxes threw up on it. I cleaned as I watched the Red Sox beat the White Sox on my teeny tiny TV, and all was right in my world for the moment.

Now, as I sit here writing this, I am reliving the moments without near as much panic in my body as I had earlier. Still sad and very homesick, I'm trying to follow the advice of a friend who told me to "toughen up cupcake" and to embrace "you know, I'm every woman and all that crap." He told me he'd keep a spot warm for me in Worcester. But who knows how long it will be until I come back... Friday (the day my mom told me we would figure something out if things really didn't get better), Thanksgiving (when fall quarter ends) or in a year or so when I finish my program. For now, I'm taking it one day at a time. I've decided that life is pretty sweet, even if this caramel macadamia nut popcorn from Garrett's is a little stale...