Room with a view

When I was sick for weeks earlier this year, I spent A LOT of time at home. And watched ALL of the Winter Olympics. Anyway, I decided my apartment was a hole and took it upon myself to redecorate. I bought new furniture and figured curtains would change the whole feel of the apt. After months of choosing the right curtains, getting them hemmed and finally charming friends to help me install them with power tools (which I should never be allowed to use unsupervised), here they are.













The one on the left is more sheer to let in light into the living room. The one on the right is linen to soften the light coming into the bedroom. I was ecstatic to have curtains like a grownup and be able to open the blinds without strangers peeking into the windows. Until last night and this morning. I looked out my windows and this is what I saw.
















Last I checked, the damn moving truck was still there, taking up precious parking spaces and blocking my view. Yes, my apt is so small that one moving truck blocks both windows. And yes, my view entails a busy major street and my neighbor's triplex across the street. But dammit, it's still my view.

New stats

Last week, Newsweek published a follow up to their two decade old article on single women of a certain age and their likelihood of getting married. I was only 10 then, so I didn't quite feel the immediate uproar to the infamous line "that a single 40-year-old woman is 'more likely to be killed by a terrorist' than to ever marry, the odds of which the researchers put at 2.6 percent." That's just plain mean. For single 30 year olds, the chances were 20%. The aftereffects of this article always hovered in the background as I got older, probably because of Susan Faludi's fame and references to these stats in movies like Sleepless in Seattle or shows like Sex in the City.
I still hate that I'm part of this statistical data and quantified, but I must say I'm relieved that Newsweek decided to follow up with these women and admit that they were wrong. Who knows how many insecure women were scared into settling because of this original article? Who knows how many frustrated women were spiraled into depression? It pisses me off. Maybe now it'll give some hope to a new generation of insecure and frustrated women.

The Gift That Says It All, The Gift That Never Was

Attempting to buy a thoughtful gift:

Scene: Circuit City Cell phone department

Me: I'd like to buy a cell phone charger for a Motorola phone.
Salesguy: Do you know what kind of phone it is?
Me: Yes, it's a flip phone.
Salesguy: Uh, do you know what kind it is?
Me: Uh I dunno.
Salesguy: OK, do you know the carrier?
Me: Uh, I dunno.
Salesguy: Well, do you know how it looks like?
Me: Yes, it's one of those flip phones with the little window on it. It's not a Razr.
Salesguy: That doesn't really narrow it down. Do you know if it's a two prong or single prong charger?
Me: Uh, I dunno. It's not for me. It's a gift.
Salesguy: Well miss, I don't really want to sell you a product that you don't have the specs for.

The perfect symbolic end to describe the last dating debacle. Good intentions, hapless execution.

Da Vinci = Rambaldi

For you Alias fans, I picked up this postcard at the Da Vinci exhibit in Chicago. Not only is it a beautiful sketch by the master himself, but it reminded me of the Sydney/Rambaldi drawing on Alias. After all, Rambaldi was pretty thinly veiled as a Leonardo type Renaissance man. Yeah, I'm a TV geek.

Chi-Town

They call it the City of Big Shoulders. Is it because it's known as one of the fattest cities in the US? There certainly are enough steakhouses around to feed everybody! Yum...

Anyway, I love this town. Tall beautiful buildings, like the Wrigley Building pictured above, H&M shopping, delicious food, and wonderful museums. There is a great Leonardo da Vinci exhibit going on at the Museum of Science and Industry, where they built several of his inventions. They also have original manuscripts from his notebooks!

My brother indulged me by driving me throughout Chicago as we ate our way through the city. There was Scooter's Frozen Custard, creamier and smoother than any ice cream or gelato I've ever had, Gino's East deep dish pizza, the best tapioca mango freezes at Joy Yee's Noodles, and a great little sandwich chain named Potbelly's that kicks Quizno's ass. Potbelly's even has musicians playing. This particular one we went to, they stuck the poor guy up in the rafters.



Here are two other buildings I loved - big recognizable names such as Bloomingdale's and McDonald's, but not your usual building structure.




Tried to tag along to my brother's business school class, but was strongly shut down by my mortified brother. Frank Lloyd Wright's Robie House is across the street from the business school, but they only had guided tours for $12. No wandering around at your own pace kind of deal. Because the guy at the Robie House bookstore was rude to me and on principle, I refused to pay that much to tour the house and settled for taking a picture of it.



It's my third time in Chicago, and I'm still not sick of it. It's one of the places I don't tire of visiting, like New York, San Francisco, Paris... :) Can't wait to go back next year for my brother's graduation!

Tada!

Are we live here? Midnight seems as good a time as any for the birth of this blog.

I admit it. I'm hooked. I love writing. I love dragging all the thoughts and stories swirling in my head out on paper or in this case out in the scary ethernet world for all to share. Otherwise, all those thoughts in my head... they kinda look like the picture above.