San Fran & San Diego Trip: 2011 Begins...

[Jan 4th - 9th, 2011]

There's something about a wall of golden skulls that gets you thinking about life... and death.  Actually, in the last couple of years, I've kind of become obsessed with death - not in a creepy, morbid way - but in the sense of being in awe of it.  Of not really understanding it, but wanting to.  Wanting to look it in the eye and have conversations with it.  So it's fitting that I find myself in this secret, hidden bar in San Diego - with a drink list written in a treasure map type font - with a ceiling of victorian painted portraits, a beautiful chandelier, two bartenders in vests… and an entire wall of golden skulls.  After my server helps me decide upon a champagne, gin, and muddled raspberry cocktail - it is definitely time for my thoughts to take over…  

On a side note, I'm currently on a plane as I write this, and have just ordered an alcoholic beverage from the flight attendant.   [flying home now, sadly]  She's checking my ID, and I can see her computing my age - and as she realizes that I'm 28, she says, "Wow" - and hands me back my ID.  I smile wryly and say "Yes, I know."  YES.  I am aware that I am a 28 year old that looks 16.  Story of my damn life.  I suppose it's funny how I'm still irked every time someone points out that I don't look my age - you'd think by now I'd be at peace with it.

Learning to Be Single

[written October 2009]

I’ve never been much of an athlete, but periodically I pretend to be one. Running is one such pretense; me being a “runner” comes and goes through different phases of my life. It’s a great outlet for relationship-angst – or, more commonly with me, pre relationship-angst. Or sometimes I just get a random inspiration out of nowhere to do it, and I do.

I realize I should specify that I’m talking about outdoor running. I’m really not a treadmill person. So, being that I’m both a fickle and insincere athlete, there are naturally many reasons/excuses to not go running. Like rain… or the whole season of winter… or the fact that I’m less of a morning person than I am an athlete so can only run in the evenings which are much more easily counter-booked with other activities…those kind of things. So, on the off-chance that I do go running (- almost always because the internal forces that be, are so overwhelmed with a recent wave of emotions and angst that I can’t not run)… well, you can imagine, I’m often out of shape.

wishing heart

[lisa loeb]

No teacher to follow, no prophet to tell me how,
But I know what I want, I know what I want now
Like water, it rushes,
It's the last thing you see when you close your eyes
It's the one place you want to be.

But if it doesn't brush my shoulder, and it doesn't beat my heart,
That's not what I want, that's not where I will start.
I never kissed somebody so that they would break my heart,
That's not what I want.

Runnin' South on Lake Shore Drive...

An outsider might have trouble understanding WHY we put up with the horrible Chicago winters each year...  I wouldn't blame them.  However, as much as I loathe Chicago's winters (- yes, I stand behind the word choice of "loathe,") there are a million great things about Chicago that make it completely worth it to live here.  

Holly's Reasons Chicago is amazing: 

* Garfield Park Conservatory
* Driving down Lake Shore Drive on a beautiful day or night - with the windows down and the music up.                                                                                                         

[queue Aliotta Haynes Jeremiah's song: Lake Shore Drive]

* Lake Michigan, clearly

One Less Car!

My brother - the middle one - went to a very unique, liberal college in the Pacific Northwest.  (I have a tendency to call it "Hippie College" - which could come across as derogatory or dismissive, but actually I have a hell of a lot of  respect for the school - AND for my brother, in his choice to go there).  

There are many things I could describe to you about this college to impress upon you how unique a place it really is - such as the fact that some students camp out in the wilderness instead of living in the dorms - but that would be a whole 'nother writing topic entirely.  

Seven Days in Barcelona

[Thurs April 1st - Weds April 7th, 2011]

Barcelona Day 1 / Thurs Apr 1, 2010: Introduction

On this day of tricks it feels a little surreal that I'm traveling overseas to Barcelona - for Easter - with a friend I've had since 6th grade.  Lord knows there a number of other very practical things I should be spending my money on - but none of them seem to be as important as seeing a brand new place in the world and going on a journey, the nature of which you can't even predict, since you've simply got no prior point of reference.   That is, unless, one believes in reincarnation...

so glide away...

[ingrid michaelson]

The sky looks pissed
The wind talks back
My bones are shifting in my skin
And you my love are gone

New Orleans - Traveling ALONE. On Purpose.

[Sun Feb 7th - Weds Feb 10th, 2010]

alternate titles include… “Down the Rabbit Hole” and “A 20-Something’s Version of Eat.Pray.Love.”

Sun Feb 7th – Morning

My journey of self-discovery began, fittingly, with an embarrassing beverage spill at O’Hare airport. As in: a 100% full - hadn't yet been touched - Skinny Dolce Cinnamon Latte that I'd just purchased from Starbucks on a lark. I was getting their oatmeal as my breakfast, saw that on the menu, remembered the RedEye had recently recommended it - and why not? I purchased it all, added said breakfast purchases to the items I was already schlepping - headed over to my gate, grabbed a seat in the mostly full waiting area, set the coffee on the armrest of the chair - and about two movements later, knocked the whole thing over – getting 1/5 of it on my khaki skirt, 1/5 of it on my luggage, and the rest made an amazingly hot & foamy cinammon-smelling puddle on the carpeted floor. AWESOME. 

CTA riders and Match.Com

Picture the olden days... (or my version of them, at least):

A girl sits on a park bench, beautiful hat, pretty dress - reading a book - maybe poetry?

A man in a suit strolls by - enjoying his walk, the sunlight, the birds chirping - and he sees this beautiful woman on the bench, and as he passes her, he says "Good afternoon."  

Though very much enjoying her book, she looks up, smiles and says, "To you as well, sir."  

Their eyes meet.

baby steps to rebellion

[June 2010]

My friend and I are sitting on a park bench on a hot Sunday morning, drinking iced coffee, talking about tattoos. You can tell it’s going to be a hot day because it’s already really hot, and it’s only 9:00am.  She came in town the day before so we could have a fun night out on the city, and in a few hours, she’ll head out back home.  It’s rare that I get alone time with her – usually our hangouts revolve around social events, lots of people – which is great, I’m happy to see her whenever.  But it’s nice to have friend time.

The tattoo she’s thinking of getting would go on her forearm.