STOP! Tribune Tower Time.
Sorry, that was super lame.
But I’ll tell you something about time – right before the beginning of a long weekend, it starts moving at a snail’s pace. A snail with a lead shell. On tranquilizers. Stuck in quicksand.
Kill me.
**Correction: That’s the Wrigley Building, not the Tribune Tower. And I call myself a Chicagoan…
If it wasn’t for those scraggly leafless tree branches, I could probably tell you that this photo was taken in the middle of summer and you’d never know the difference.
Unless you got all inquisitive and asked what time of day it was taken and figured out that the Sun is too low in the sky for a summer day. In which case I would become extremely offended and start yelling, “What the hell is wrong with you!? Don’t you TRUST me??”
You really know how to push my buttons, don’t you?
P.S. If you’re wondering why there was no February Photo a Day post yesterday, it was because the topic was “button.” I took a picture of the buttons on my sweater, but it was just so boring. SO boring! I started to post it and promptly fell asleep. So I decided to not waste your time with that one.
Let’s just get something out there: it’s really hard to take a picture on your phone in the city without feeling like a tourist or some sort of creep. And when you’re trying to take a picture of a stranger, that creep factor is amplified.
I nonchalantly snapped this photo of several strangers on the Merchandise Mart brown line platform on my way home from work last Thursday.
My rendition of “nonchalantly” means looking around furtively and quietly humming to myself. Which may not seem all that discreet to you, but public transportation is rampant with weirdos, so I blended right in.
I know it’s blurry, but I amped up the saturation a little, and it kind of looks a little like a painting, no?
Last weekend, Megan and I continued our series of Chicago neighborhood adventures by visiting our friend (and fellow squirrel) Renee in Andersonville. (See our Lincoln Square adventure here!)
Thanks to what seemed like two feet of freshly fallen snow (it wasn’t really that much) and Ugg boots that were determined to prove that they were, in fact, NOT WATERPROOF, our activities mostly included eating brunch at Hamburger Mary’s, walking up Clark Street, walking back down Clark Street, and sloshing back to Renee’s to get our feet dry and drink wine. Despite that lackluster description, good times were had by all!
In case you’re not from around these parts, Andersonville is a neighborhood north of the Loop that has a major Swedish influence. Now that you know that, I bet the photo of the Swedish American Museum above is starting to make a little more sense, ehhh?
We actually stopped in the museum for a second, but turned around as soon as we noticed that admission wasn’t free. We’re still in a recession here, people. Also, our boots were making squishy/sloshing sounds and we were leaving a trail of puddles behind us. My apologies to the museum janitor/intern who had to mop that up.
Really, the best part of the day (besides the fantastic company) was our brunch at Hamburger Mary’s. Once we heard that a FREE mimosa comes with every entree, the decision of where to eat was pretty much made for us.
But that wasn’t the only cool thing about that place. They also have good food, funky/retro decor, and bring the check to the table nestled in a high-heeled shoe. Why? One can’t be sure. But now the photo above of the shoe on the table is also starting to make sense, ehhh?
Other highlights of our Andersonville adventure include checking out Renee’s cute condo (and even cuter dogs!), Megan valiantly saving me from being plowed down by an SUV exiting a grocery store parking lot, and experiencing a crucial tipping point in my life that has led me to finally swear off Uggs. Major breakthrough!! (And I want these as replacements).
Personally, I prefer the seasons of the year when the trees actually have leaves. But while walking to meet my friend Laura for coffee yesterday, I noticed that there’s something to be appreciated about gnarled, naked winter tree limbs highlighted by fresh snow. Against the gray glow of the sky, the branches almost look like a thriving network of human veins.
Gross.
But cool.
These signs are all over the city right now:
Can someone please explain to me exactly how to be cautious in this situation?
Should I suspiciously eye the top of the skyscraper as I walk by?
Should I run past in a quick zigzag motion?
Should I flatten myself against the side of the building and carefully inch my way across?
Should I find something large and heavy to carry over my head? Wear a helmet? Surround myself in a protective shield of ice-melting fire?
Whichever option I choose, I think it’s clear that if you come across me taking caution against falling ice, you yourself should also be cautious – of me.
Image via
I won’t remind the Chicago weather that it’s January if you won’t.
I’ve seen two people on the street wearing shorts today. Shorts. SHORTS!
I think that’s overreacting a bit. And I’m referring to the wearing of the shorts, not me yelling at you. I never overreact. EVER!
Last Saturday, three of Will’s friends from Belleville were in town and one of them just happened to have a pretty awesome connection at Paris Club.
You know what that means: VIP status baby! We were poppin’ bottles and takin’ names!
Actually, the night was way more classy and less douchebaggy than I just made it sound. We “popped” one bottle.
But it was awesome! I gorged myself on the frites frommage and the more adventurous people at the table (NOT me) even gulped down some escargot (while I winced and looked away). They said it was delicious. I’m not completely convinced.
After dinner, we even got to skip the insane line at Studio Paris (the club upstairs), where that line between classiness and douchebaggery blurred just a bit, along with our vision and memory of that part of the evening.
It was a great time. Thanks to Mo for an amazing night!
After I scrounge up $5.8 million.
Details.
Carlie Crash 