A Time to Say 'Thank You'

Yes, yes another blog post about the Olympics...

But I have to say, that with the Olympics coming to a close, it always makes me sad. Fortunately we only have to wait two years for all the records, pageantry, and stories that tug at the heart strings.

Saying that, just in the last week I've been inspired by so many stories of parents supporting the dreams of their children (adult or not, it doesn't matter). So much so, that I called my parents just to say "thanks".

I'm not an Olympic athlete, nor will I ever become one. But my parents gave me life, a roof over my head, higher education, and have supported my decisions in life. I've thanked them many times throughout my life, but an unexpected thank you is always nice.

This one's for you Mom and Dad--thank you for getting me where I wanted to be in life :)

Since when is it pronounced "bay-jing"?

A random thoughts list on the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics:

-the McDonalds commercial that frequently loops (for the new chicken sandwich)--- nasty! Bun, chicken nugget (essentially) and pickle?? wtf?
-Michael Phelps is a mutant
-But Michael Phelps is also AWESOME
-Men's beach volleyball players should wear less clothing
-The little girl whose voice was dubbed for the opening ceremony due to her "features", that IS making the Chinese look worse than if she actually did sing
-Hotties of the games thus far: the Spanish volleyball team, a lot of the eastern European athletes from the opening ceremonies, Ryan Lochte, and Ian Thorpe (even though he is pro and not competing, we still see shots of him gloating at all of the Phelps competitions)
-Bob Costas is so f'ing fake
-I think Dara Torres should've spent more time in the water than the tanning beds during her Olympics hiatus
-I'm getting used to the black blob on Kerry Walsh's shoulder
-Men's gymnastics just isn't as cool this time around without the Hamms

Day 30

And the line outside the Apple Store is finally non-existent!

Lunchtime Voyeurism

I think one of my favorite things about living in a city is people watching. It's a great activity for a lazy Sunday. Or, as I've recently found, on your lunchbreak while 26 stories high, observing rooftops below you.

I happen to work off the "world-famous" Magnificent Mile of Chicago. I would assume most of the high-rise condos in the neighborhood range in the $400K range minimum, and they certainly attract 'special' people. Day traders, the independently wealthy, etc.--these might be the special folk lounging on the rooftop pool I watch almost everyday on my lunch break.

It wasn't until yesterday that things really started to heat up. Call it what you want, but if you think you're about to witness full-on, daylight sex HOW CAN YOU NOT WATCH?!

Sadly, "Roberto and Isabelle"--my nicknamed latin lovers, were not on the roof today during the lunch hour. In fact, no one was up there today. A 90 degree day and the hot and tanned are no where to be seen? There's always tomorrow...

Please, save the postage

Attn: xxxL Fxxxxxx
Coldwell Banker
1959 Halsted Street
Chicago, IL 60614


Dear Mr. Fxxxxxx:

I appreciate your recent correspondence with me, "Current Resident" at 525 W. Cornelia. It is always wonderful to receive mail from people I have never met in my life.

Since we are only a mile away from each other and you feel SO eager to introduce me to the newly reduced condominiums at 643 W. Barry, I thought I would write you a reply back.

I'd like to start by stating that as for my 'assets'--I have none. I hope you realize that lending companies don't gladly loan money towards a down payment for those that say, barely peak out of an income bracket of $34,000. Nor can we afford the monthly payments either. So with that, you're not winning over any new business when you send us postcards. Perhaps, you're hoping that those that can't afford the mortgage can use mom and dad or a sugar daddy? Well, you're barking up the wrong tree.

My advice is save the 42 cents--ooh big spender, it's over postcard size!--and concentrate on those more fortunate and not in danger of foreclosure in another year.

Kindest regards,

Farrah Katz

BoBo the Bigot Clown

Next Monday, I have the great honor of finally starting a permanent position in my new city. For the last four months, I've been doing contract work only and I finally feel like I am rooted here.

Having said this, I thought I would share a story of my most recent coworker (from a contract gig). In this story, she is known as Bobo. You may ask why, and it's easy--she is pasty and has short, cropped, permed red hair. Did I also mention the smile that rivals that of Ronald McDonald?

Ok, so now that you've gotten the image etched into your mind--oh wait! I didn't mention she is also of Scottish ancestry. Maybe even a love child of Ronald? The company's headquarters are based here....

Enough with the tangents....Bobo's biggest problem, sorry problems, were A)she talked too damn much (we had short cubicles that allowed her to make my ears bleed all day, every day) and B)about 80% of what came out of her mouth was either sheer bigotry, hatred, and/or generalizations.

A few gems I've remembered, or should I say don't want to remember:
"Any company that has Hispanics working there, ALWAYS provides Good Friday as a paid holiday."
"If it wasn't for those damned Arabs, our energy bills and gas wouldn't be so high."
Being of Scottish ancestry (read: VERY distantly), she felt it necessary to make crude comments about the Irish, amongst many other ethnic groups.

My problem on top of that is she looked at me like a confidante, only 40 years younger (she is the same age as my mom). She didn't see through the nodding, lack of eye contact, shiftiness towards my iPod to block out her bantering. Nothing. Since we only worked on contract for two months, the thought had crossed my mind to ask my boss if I could move to a different floor where I knew there were open desks but I knew it would be suspect. Or she might not have even noticed. Either way, I was always pining for the clock to hit 4:30--no big deal that I had 30 more minutes of work, I just wanted her to go home.

The Arab-energy comment obviously stung me, which is why I refused to tell her my specific ethnicity. She even counterattacked me because she had a hard time believing a Caucasian, brunette with brown eyes was strictly of English and French ancestry. Quite common in fact, had she never known what Audrey Hepburn looked like? And what was it to her? I changed my last name to protect myself from the hurtful words and actions of people like this in my hometown. The last thing I needed was to be interrupted during my work and being called a towelhead (I'm half-Arab), sand digger (once again, I'm half-Arab) or getting the stink eye because of news stories coming out of Iran, Israel, Afghanistan or any other nation with a Jewish or Muslim nation (I am neither of those religions).

This woman was baffling. She especially peaked my sociological interests of how she had survived in Chicago for 20 years, without being burned at the stake. Did she just wake up one morning and forget how diverse the city population is? I had to look past the fact that she somehow holds a master's degree and for some time lived in boystown. The fact that she grew up in "border town", Indiana spelled it out in black and white (and red, and yellow, brown....).

I guess what really gave me peace was that this woman hid her unhappiness. An eternal spinster (and former cat lady). She brought it on herself. If she's a bigot into her 60s then she's done it all her life, and who wants to be friends with that?

The Many Faces of Chicago Men, Part III

And now for the conclusion of the enthralling three part series of my quest to discover the Men of Chicago.

As mentioned before the Douchebag is hated by many people. This next species is one of them:

The Hipster
The Hipster can be spotted in a 4-step process: 1)brooding look 2) skin-tight jeans, hoodie, maybe sunglasses (is it me, or does this style say Unabomber?) 3) rolled cigarette hanging out of their mouth 4) can of Pabst in hand. Something tells me that Hipsters unite all around the country and that their styles don't change from coast to coast. Chicago Hipsters tend to live in/around Logan Square, the western part of Lakeview (but far enough from Wrigley), and if they're independently wealthy (or with a roomate), Wicker Park.

The Adam Levine Wannabe
These guys are very hard to pinpoint--are they metrosexual/gay/wannabe hipsters or none of the above? If you notice Figure A to the right, this is the template of these ambiguous men of Chicago. I've often wondered about Adam Levine myself--he's most likely straight because his many conquests are tabloid fodder, yet he dresses in tailored suits, dress shoes--but what's with all the tattoos, the faux hawk you started sporting once your album dropped last year and the Hipster sunglasses??! This isn't junior high, don't try to be someone you're not. Sorry, went off tangent there. Probably because he's too hot to not stare at on a regular basis.

Ok back to the group....They pair pink Lacoste polos and mutton chops. Converse and a few tattoos but a wardrobe full of John Varvatos. I have encountered this specimen in many neighborhoods but I'm willing to pinpoint their main habitat somewhere around the convergence of River North, Old Town, and Wicker Park.

And, last but not least The Jr. Superfan

Readers, at the present time it is baseball season. The Jr. Superfan is in full-force. They are EASILY spotted in a polo of the American Eagle/Abercrombie/Gap, etc. variety (as if they could afford a Lacoste with that shit recruiting job). Usually a dumb-founded look is upon their face, along with a can of beer (nothing light mind you), and a protruding belly. These men represent the future diabetics of Chicago (oh shit, I'm gonna get in trouble for this one). In addition to their stomping grounds in/around Soldier Field, any Big 10 tailgate, Wrigley...you'll see them at pizza joints, hot dog stands, you know the drill. These men make you pine for the low BMI'd, health nuts of Denver.

Once football season is upon us I'm sure I will encounter many more Jr. Superfans. For now, I'm just glad that the majority of the men I see on a day-to-day are young, hot and gay and in no way a threat to me ;)

The Many Faces of Chicago Men, Part II

As promised another installment of a wonderfully, stereotypical series:

The White Sox Fan
Word on the street is they don't run in these parts and I'm beginning to think they don't exist! If I snag one in the wild trenches of the Northside I'll report back with my findings.

The Guido
Ah, the Guido... He is a charming character found not only in Chicago, but many regions of the US including Los Angeles, Bayonne, NJ and Philadelphia. While Figure A defines the Guido of New England, Figure B (shown at the top) is the standard Guido fare of Chicago.
The Guido may live in several different neighborhoods of Chicago. When encountering one you may not know at first glance if they're Italian, Mexican or Latino. Either way, you'll know you've encountered one if a muscular or chubby fellow like Figure B walks by in requisite wife beater and either tight jeans or track pants and sneakers or sandals.
Guidos often whistle, so you'll know when to run like the wind--just don't run all the way to Pilsen.

Mother's Day conversation

Mom: I heard you called earlier.

Me: Yes, I thought you were still out at brunch.

Mom: Oh, I just got back. It was really nice.

banter
banter
banter

Mom: How was the weather today?

Me: Oh, um...I think it was raining?

Mom: What, you don't know?

Me: No, it's just that I got up at 1.

Mom: Sounds like someone was out.

Me: Yeah, and I'm still hungover. I mean, I puked inside this club last night. And then once we left, I puked outside some more. And now, I'm like still not well. I think most of the sickness ended like 2 hours ago.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

The Many Faces of Chicago Men, Part I

I recently viewed Pemco Insurance's website (werealotlikeyou.com)the other day because their latest campaign is in the national spotlight--and only Pacific Northwesterner's would really get it (hence the reason I checked it out). The campaign started before I moved to Chicago and most of it appeared on wrapped buses, detailing the stereotypical insurer of the Northwest, "The Recumbent Bike Commuter", "The Highway Roadside Chainsaw Carving Artist", etc. This got me thinking--I've been in Chicago nearly two months and it's about time to provide in detail the stereotypical men of Chicago, because there's a lot of them! Here is the first of three parts:

THE DOUCHEBAG
Sometimes known as a "Chad" to compliment a "Trixie". I must say that Chicagoans are not light on their usage of the wordS douchebag, douche-y, douchebaggery, etc. It almost seems like there are more here than any other city in the US. Perhaps to some people, say the Hipster, but we'll get to that later.

Unlike "Chads" who are mythical creatures residing mostly in Lincoln Park, Douchebags are found anywhere, most likely working a day job in the Loop.

Standard "DB" daytime dress includes a suit, tie, dress shirt that is later worn to bar of choice (untucked of course, probably paisley too), and often times brown dress shoes (ewwwww). The DB will talk on his cell phone during his entire commute on the el, particularly Mondays when he'll tell all his 'bros' about the chick he nailed last Saturday from the Lion's Head.

The douchebag will never look a bespectacled woman in the eye, and if in Boystown plays up his homophobia: "Dude! That guy is such a fag!"
No, no dear douchebag, not every guy in Boystown is gay--you just spotted a straight, yuppie married guy who has a mortgage in Boystown because the housing prices are good.

THE CUBS FAN
Commonly seen anywhere in my opinion. Wtf is all the hype anyway, THEY ALWAYS LOSE!

The Cubs fan is sometimes friends with a Douchebag(s), or is sometimes (quite often)both a douchebag and a Cubs fan.

Common daytime apparel outside of work is the requisite Cubs red/blue hat (worn backwards), jacket, t-shirt, and/or hoodie.

Behavior is obnoxious bordering on so annoying you want to slap them silly. When drunk and displaced outside Wrigleyville (say for instance 6 blocks SE in the planter outside your apartment building) an accent is pronounced. Example, "I fuckin' hate those sax" translating to "I fucking hate those [white] sox."

The Cubs Fan doesn't have an "adult" drinking palate, choosing Budweiser, Pabst, etc. over microbrews and $2 you-call-its over any sophisticated cocktail.

The Cubs Fan lives, breathes, and dies a Cub Fan much like a Red Sox fan. If you meet one, don't linger too long--your presence will only constitute half the year.

There are still more exciting stereotypes to come. Please come back and view the next weeks' installment :)

When the bed's a rockin'

WTF? I move to Chicago and no, what happened at 4am Friday morning was not my neighbor having violent sex, but an EARTHQUAKE???
I thought it was an Ambien nightmare. I need to stop with that stuff (or at least get a real Rx). Anyway, special thanks to Matt Lauer for informing me yesterday morning what that really was!

"A customer is...

like a jewel on a velvet pillow". This was honest-to-God part of an email signature I saw the other day at work. I guess the territory sales managers like to get creative, because one of the ones I communicate with frequently has a quote from Stuart Smalley. Are you really good enough and smart enough? Because doggone-it, not too many people like you.
As for the jewel...that's just lame.

Queen Anne ushers in Election 2008

Orgasmically delicious...

...are the turkey samosas (with cilantro dipping sauce) at Metropolitan Market. Get 'em while they're hot and saucy!

My coworker was a former female bodybuilder

And I have no problem with that. I think it really drives the old adage, "don't judge a book by its cover" home.

When I first found out last week, it just blew me away to think that a 5'1" (seriously, she must be) bubbly, early-40's woman with Barbie-perfect hair once had more muscle on her body than Steve Urkell could ever imagine.

I was just staring blankly at my computer, and then all of sudden she parades her competition photos around the aisle. This was one of those moments where it was hard to remain expression-less. Or at least provide an expression of, "Wow! What an interesting hobby/lifestyle! That's amazing you almost won 1st place in that competition in 1992"--but soon followed by--"oh God, is the person standing to her left actually a woman"?

So many questions...so many more reasons to stare blankily at my computer screen once again.

Seriously!

Will whoever keeps missing the seat in the work bathrooms---just stop already?! Geez...if the company wants to be more "sustainable" and "green" then I need to stop using less seat covers to clean up your mess >;(

The "Do you Like it here/Are you a fit for Seattle?" Quiz

I've felt for sometime, that as a resident of this city, I don't really fit the mold. So just for fun, I've created this "handy" quiz for you to find out--Should I pack up my Birks, with my tail between my legs and find a new city?? That's a picture of a Sasquatch by the way, perhaps you already knew that...

1) Do you like the Dave Mathews Band?

2) Do you own a light therapy lamp for the treatment of SAD or dysthymia?

3) Do you like Starbucks?

4) Do you own a pair of Uggs—and not the fake ones (I'd say the unofficial Birkenstock of the 00’s)?

5) Are you likely to experience orgasm when you hear the latest ski conditions?

6) Do you like hiking?

7) If any of these teams--Seattle Seahawks, Supersonics, Mariners--has a less-than stellar season, do you drop off a 1/4 of the way through it?

8) Would you buy those Uggs at Nordstrom? Or possess a Nordstrom charge card?

9) Do you shop amazon.com over any other retail bookstore?

10) Does living without sunshine for over 75% of the year bother you?

11) Rep or Dem?

12) Are you an REI co-op member?

13) You want to pick up an Odwalla, do you buy it at Whole Foods?

Now for the scoring!! Are you excited?!
Questions 1-7, 9, 12, 13: Give yourself 2 pts if you answered Yes; 0 pts if No
Question 8: Two pts if Yes to either question
Question 10: No, 2pts—and you’re lying by the way!
Question 11: Democrat, 2pts

The Short, 0-5 = You fit in to the Seattle mold, like Paris Hilton in a turtleneck and full-length pants. Time to move!

The Tall, 6-12 = You're about $60 short on those Uggs. Maybe you should apply for a job with Microsoft.

The Grande, 13-19 = Dave Mathews is in town for a special last-minute show at the Paramount on the same day as: your wedding, birth of your child, a full 16 hours of sun-breaks! And you pass it up?? You'll never make it to Venti status.

The Venti, 20-26 = Zip up your Columbia and dash out to your Subaru Impreza with Starbucks Americano in hand. It’s time to release that pent-up dry season called Summer, on the slopes at Stevens!

I scored a 6 by the way. But I'll have know that I've practically retired the Nordstrom card and REI membership usage. Oh, and that last factor in my score? You can probably guess.

A tribute to Heath Leger

As many of you know, Heath Leger passed last Tuesday. He was only 28. I always enjoyed his movies and was glad that the first one I saw was filmed in my hometown.
He was a great actor, and I could never imagine his death being self-inflicted and in relation to illegal drugs.
I'll never think of the American cowboy quite the same. Click on the title's link and see for yourself ;)
I wish we could quit you Heath.

If George Bush is going to give me $600...

....I'm still going to count down the days till he's out of office :)

(intro) Didn't We Almost Have it All

Two years ago, I had the most amazing apartment, met an amazing guy, and well…not such an amazing job, however life was good. And in the blink of an eye it was all gone. No. Seriously.

Soon that amazing apartment notified me via roommate, "oh, our building is building renovated for new condos, starting...in 2 months". That amazing guy told me a week following our first meeting that he didn't want to date anyone at the time (uh huh, riiiiiight). And the not so amazing job gave me the pink slip.

Life certainly hands you lemons at the right time, huh? With that, I decided to make my own blank slate, start over and that is how I landed in Japan for 5 months last year.

Before leaving I thought I'd made a solid plan--I was going to stay for an entire year and after that, relocate from the home I'd known for 25 years, to a city that offered more job opportunities in the industries I was interested in. And of course, it didn't exactly happen that way.

Which brings me to my current state of affairs. It's January 2008, what are you going to do with your life?

I've certainly grown tired of the rollercoaster of good and bad news in my life since 2006. I'm ready to make the relocation I've wanted for so long and actually DO something about my career. I want to know that whoever reads this, it serves as motivation if you're in a similar situation--you've had your ups and downs, do something that you know will make you happy and give you a good outlook on the new year. Find that job, take that vacation, fall in love, get married, throw out your clothes from 1985--just do it now (come on, I'm not completely ripping off Nike's slogan!). And along the way, you can read about what happens next :)